in addition to his queer attire, neither was Lafitte armed for hunting, as well as I was able to determine.
"More men have sought these swamps with serious intent than have come for pleasure," moodily answered Lafitte, breaking the thread of my thoughts. There was another flash of that latent ferocity I had previously noted as he added, "Some few have come to bide here the hour of vengeance!"
I made no comment; nor did Lafitte seem to expect any. I could make neither heads nor tails of his erratic talk, and, what with the wild and positively uncanny expression that frequently replaced the air of calm melancholy I had grown to associate with him, I began to entertain an uneasy suspicion that the fellow might lie more or less unbalanced mentally—although the idea was certainly discounted by what I knew of him.
At about this time, however, I was further perplexed to observe that, although we were almost constantly on boggy ground, and frequently wading in mud or shallow water, Lafitte's boots and long cloak were utterly free of any stain in witness of the fact. The full shock of this phenomenon did not strike me until I afterward recalled it, in the light of later events. My attention was diverted, at the moment, by the appearance of the Mississippi River levee, which confronted us as we broke through a concealing patch of tall sugar-cane.
The wretched little railroad track ran almost in the shadow of the levee, and Lafitte informed me that Le Boeuf station was only about two miles above us, around the bend of the river. He suggested that I might see for myself from the embankment, and as its summit furnished an easy and natural highway to my destination, we made the ascent.
Sure enough, I discerned the settlement at no great distance up the river.
At this juncture, Lafitte called my attention to a vessel that was rounding a lower bend of the great river which rolled majestically below us, and forging slowly upstream in our direction. His face retained a mask of impassivity, but his eyes were like glowing coals, alive with suppressed but exultant excitement
Examining the craft, which was smaller than the usual ships of commerce, and yet had one funnel more than is customary, I remarked to Lafitte that she seemed to be some sort of small warship. This fact, in itself, afforded me no clue to the reason of his interest, but he nodded an eager affirmative.
"Ah!" he exclaimed; "a warship, indeed! And does Monsieur observe the flag she flaunts?"
"Why yes," I acknowledged, after a moment's further gazing, "it is the Mexican flag; and, as we are expecting her arrival for general overhauling in the dry dock of my company at Algiers, I assume her to be the gunboat Tampico."
"It is the Tampico," agreed Lafitte. It did not occur to me to ask how he came to be so assured of this fact, since I happened to know that the gunboat carried no nameplate—and even if it had, he could not possibly have made it out at that distance. Instead, I remarked, as an afterthought:
"It is quite possible that I shall go with her when she returns to Mexico, if the authorities will permit it. Her commander is an old friend of mine, and he has several times asked me to make a voyage with him. As I have to go to Vera Cruz, anyway, to inspect another gunboat before placing a bid to repair it also, I may take advantage of his offer at this time."
To my great surprize, Lafitte vehemently shook his head, and urged,
