Suddenly a thought of more practical sort came to my mind. "Jimmy," I
called.
"Aye, aye, Sir;" and L'Olonnois saluted.
"You remember all those bottles floating around in the bayou--did you
take them all up?"
"Aye, aye, Sir, an' she throwed a lot more in, out o' the cabin
window. I was shootin' at 'em with the twenty-two, an' busted some."
"But not all?"
"Oh, no, some was left."
"And we sailed away, leaving there, no doubt, the full story of our
voyage."
"Like enough," said L'Olonnois. "I didn't think of that."
"Nor I. For once, the vigilance of Black Bart faltered, L'Olonnois,
and he must yet, mayhap, make better amends for his fault. Full speed
ahead, now, Peterson," I added later as I went forward. "Run for New
Orleans and with all you can get out of her."
"Very good, Mr. Harry," said the old man; and I could feel the throb
of her whole superstructure, from stack to keelson, when he called on
the double-sixties of the Belle Helène for all their power. Nor did
any seek to stay us in our swift rush down the river.