“Now see here, Pete,” I began earnestly.  “How did you learn what my name was?”

“De docthar he foun’ dat out, sah.  I reckon’ he thought maybe he ought ter know; fearin’ as how ye might die.  He done looked through yer pockets, sah, an’ he took two papers whut he foun’ dar away wid him.  He done tol’ me as how yer wus an offercer in de army—­a leftenant, er sumthin’—­an’ thet dem papers ought fer ter be sint ter de Gov’ner et onct.  De las’ time he wus yere he tol’ me thet he wint down ter Saint Louee hisself, an’ done gif bof dem papers ter Gov’ner Clark.  So yer don’t need worry none ’bout dem no mor’.”

I sank back onto the hard pillow, greatly relieved by this information.  The burden of official duty had been taken from me.  I was now on furlough, and free to act as I pleased.  I suddenly became conscious that I was hungry.  I expressed this desire for food, and the negro instantly busied himself over the fire.  I watched his movements with interest, although my thoughts quickly drifted to other matters.

“Have you picked up any news lately from the Beaucaire plantation?” I asked, at last.

He twisted his head about at sound of my voice.

“I heerd said dey done brought de body ob de ol’ Jedge home, sah—­he died mighty sudden sumwhar up de ribber.  Thet’s ’bout all I know.”

“When was this?”

“’Bout a week maybe mor’n dat ago.  De Warrior brought de body down, sah.”

“The Warrior?  Did anyone go ashore with it?”

“Pears like thar wus two men stopped off at de Landin’.  I disremember de names, but one ob ’em wus an ol’ friend ob de Jedge’s.”

I turned my head away silently, but only for a moment.  The two men were in all probability Kirby and his satellite, Carver.  Evidently they intended to lose no time.  The accident, the period of my unconsciousness, had left the villains ample opportunity in which to carry out the details of their devilish plot.  The silence had convinced them of my death, leaving them nothing to fear, no opposition to guard against.  Doubtless the Beaucaire property was already legally in Kirby’s possession, and any possible chance I might have once had to foil him in his nefarious purpose had now completely vanished.

To be sure I had reasoned out no definite means whereby I could circumvent his theft, except to take legal advice, confer with Governor Clark, and warn those threatened girls of their danger.  But now it was too late even to do this.  And yet it might not be.  If Kirby and his confederate believed that I was dead, were convinced that I had perished beneath the waters of the river, they might feel safe in taking time to strengthen their position; might delay final action, hoping thus to make their case seem more plausible.  If Kirby was really serious in his intention of marrying Beaucaire’s daughter he would naturally hesitate immediately to acknowledge