de keys; den I knew you was safe, if you could only git ’em.  So I hired ole Dinah to make some extry bread and slip into your basket after your wife had fixed your supper.  Dat was all I could do.  I heard de trial was to come off to-morrow, and but for de rheumatiz, de keys would have been ready a week ago.  You know, Mars’ Emile, old Peter part Affikin, and what he can’t do, no udder nigger need try.  He, he, he!”

“But where are you going?” interrupted Emile.

“Well, Mars’ Emile, der’s a blockader lying off de Bar.  I’se gwine to take you to it.”  Emile shuddered.

“Nebber fear.  If you stays on land, dey’ll git you, shure, an’ I knows ebry foot ob de harbor as well as I do de city.  Ain’t Peter Martinet been here eber since the Revolution War?  No man here knows de harbor better dan me, tripedoes or no tripedoes.  Dey can’t blow me up, dat’s shure.  Come, let’s go, be quick, and be sly too.”

Emile followed as one in a dream.  Not daring, or caring, to question his guide, until they were safely on the edge of a pier that was several feet above the sea.

“What now?” he said.

“All right.  I have a bateau tied down da, waitin’ for us.  Her’s de rope to slide down.  But as you’se afeerd, mebbe I’d better go down fust.  Here goes!  I’se afeerd of nuffin, ’specially in de harbor.”  Emile peered over the edge of the pier, and shuddered, as he saw the dark figure disappear below.

“All right agin, safe and sound.  Come on.  Mind yer hold.  Be brave, man, don’t lose yer courage now, or you may be a jail-bird de rest of yer days.  He, he, he!”

Stimulated to action by this stinging remark of old Peter, Emile seized the rope, glided slowly down the wall, and landed safely in the boat below.

“Now I guess we’s safe; no one can git us now,” chuckled old Peter, as he grasped the oars and rowed away.

Emile made no reply, and for a time the plash of the oars was the only sound that broke the stillness.

“Do you know that they’ll receive me?” at length said Emile, as he saw the shore receding.

“Oh, yes; more’n once have I carried men to the blockaders-some who didn’t want to fight, and some who had friends on the udder side.  Dey allus paid ole Peter well, and he nebber fail to git ’em away safe.  He, he, he.”

“Why did you do this for me, Peter?  For me who had scarcely a friend in the world; for me, who can repay you in nothing but gratitude?” asked Emile with emotion.

“Oh, old Peter don’t always work for money; sometime he do for love.  It’s for love this time, Mars’ Emile.”

“How far is the vessel away, Peter?”

“Five mile from de pier; you see de lights ob de vessel yonder, sir.”

Emile was silent, thinking of the desolate wife and unfortunate child whom he was leaving farther behind at every stroke of the oars.

“I must send a letter back by you, Peter; promise me that my wife shall get it.”