The Quadroon: Adventures in the Far West. Майн Рид

at that moment she flung herself into a chair.

      It was of the kind known as a “rocking-chair,” and its motions displayed the fine proportion and outlines of her form. As she now sat she was facing the door, and her eye for the first time rested upon me. By Heavens! she was gazing on me just as before! What meant that strange glance? those burning eyes?

      Stedfast and fixed, they remained bent upon mine—and mine trembled to answer them!

      Thus for some moments her eyes dwelt upon me, without motion or change of direction. I was too young at that time to understand the expression that was in them. I could translate such an one afterwards, but not then.

      At length she rose from her seat with an air of uneasiness, as if displeased either with herself or me; and, turning away her head, she opened the latticed door and passed into her state-room.

      Had I done anything to give offence? No! not by word, nor look, nor gesture. I had not spoken—I had not moved, and my timid glance could not have been construed into one of rudeness.

      I was somewhat bewildered by the conduct of Mademoiselle Besançon; and, in the full belief that I should never see her again, I hurried away from the saloon, and once more climbed up to the hurricane-deck.

Chapter Ten.

       Table of Contents

      A New Mode of raising the Steam.

      It was near sunset—the fiery disc was going down behind the dark outline of cypress forest that belted the western horizon, and a yellow light fell upon the river. Promenading back and forward upon the canvas-covered roof, I was gazing upon the scene, wrapt in admiration of its glowing beauty.

      My reverie was interrupted. On looking down the river I saw that a large boat was in our wake, and coming rapidly after us. The volume of smoke rolling up out of her tall funnels, and the red glowing of her fires, showed that she was moving under a full head of steam. Her size, as well as the loud reports of her ’scape-pipe, told that she was a boat of the first-class. She was the “Magnolia.” She was moving with great velocity, and I had not watched her long, before I perceived that she was fast gaining upon us.

      At this moment my ears were assailed by a variety of sounds coming from below. Loud voices in earnest tones, the stamping and pattering of feet, as of men rushing over the wooden decks and along the guard-ways. The voices of women, too, were mingled in the medley.

      I surmised what all this meant. The approach of the rival boat was the cause of the excitement.

      Up to this time the boat-race seemed to have been nearly forgotten. It had got abroad among both “hands” and passengers that the Captain did not intend to “run;” and although this backing-out had been loudly censured at first, the feeling of disappointment had partially subsided. The crew had been busy at their work of stowage—the firemen with their huge billets of cord-wood—the gamblers with their cards—and the passengers, in general, with their portmanteaus, or the journal of the day. The other boat not starting at the same time, had been out of sight until now, and the feeling of rivalry almost “out of mind.”

      The appearance of the rival produced a sudden change. The gamblers flung down the half-dealt pack, in hopes of having something more exciting to bet upon; the readers hastily closed their books, and tossed aside their newspapers; the rummagers of trunks banged down the lids; the fair occupants of rocking-chairs suddenly sprang to their feet; and all ran out of the cabins, and pressed towards the after-part of the boat.

      My position on the hurricane-deck was the best possible for a good view of the rival boat, and I was soon joined by a number of my fellow-passengers. I wished, however, to witness the scene on the cabin-deck, and went below.

      On reaching the main saloon, I found it quite forsaken. All the passengers, both male and female, had gone out upon the guard-way; and leaning against the guards were anxiously watching the approach of the Magnolia.

      I found the Captain under the front-cabin awning. He was surrounded by a crowd of gentlemen-passengers, all of whom appeared to be in a high state of excitement. One after the other was proffering speech to him. They were urging him to “raise the steam.”

      The Captain, evidently wishing to escape from these importunities, kept passing from place to place. It was to no purpose. Wherever he went he was met or followed by a knot of individuals, all with the same request in their mouths—some even begging him for “God’s sake” not to let the Magnolia pass him!

      “Wal, Cap!” cried one, “if the Belle don’t run, I guess she’ll never be heerd of on these waters agin, she won’t.”

      “You’re right!” added another. “For my part the next trip I make I’ll try the Magnolia.”

      “She’s a fast boat that ’ere Magnolia!” remarked a third.

      “She ain’t anything else,” rejoined the first speaker: “she’s got her steam on a few, I reckon.”

      I walked out on the guard-way in the direction of the ladies’ cabin. The inmates of the latter were clustered along the guards, and seemingly as much interested in the boat-race as the men. I could hear several of them expressing their wishes aloud that the boats would run. All idea of risk or fear of consequences had departed; and I believe that if the company had been “polled” at the moment in favour of the race, there would not have been three dissentient voices. I confess that I, myself, would have voted for running—I had caught the infection, and no longer thought of “snags,” “sawyers,” or bursting boilers.

      As the Magnolia drew near the excitement increased. It was evident that in a few minutes more she would be alongside, and then pass us. The idea was unsupportable to some of the passengers; and loud words could be heard, now and then interspersed with an angry oath. The poor Captain had to bear all this—for it was known that the rest of the officers were well disposed for a trial of speed. It was the Captain only who “showed the white feather.”

      The Magnolia was close in our wake; her head bearing a little to one side. She was evidently preparing to pass us!

      Her officers and crew were moving actively about; both pilots were seen above at the wheel-house; the firemen were all at work upon the deck; the furnace-doors were glowing red-hot; and the bright blaze stood several feet above the tops of her tall funnels! One might have fancied she was on fire!

      “They are burning bacon hams!” shouted a voice.

      “They are by—!” exclaimed another. “See, yonder’s a pile of them in front of the furnace!”

      I turned my eyes in that direction. It was quite true. A pyramidal-shaped mass of dark-brown objects lay upon the deck in front of the fires. Their size, shape, and colour told what they were—dried hams of bacon. The firemen were seen taking them from the pile, and thrusting them one after another up the red tunnels of the furnace!

      The Magnolia was still gaining upon us. Already her head was even with the wheel-house of the Belle. On the latter boat the excitement increased, and the noise along with it. An occasional taunt from the passengers of the rival boat added fuel to the flame; and the Captain was once more abjured to run. Men almost threatened him with violence!

      The Magnolia continued to advance. She was now head for head with us. Another minute passed—a minute of deep silence—the crews and passengers of both boats watched their progress with hearts too full for utterance. Another minute, and the Magnolia had shot ahead!

      A triumphant cheer rang along her decks, mingled with taunting shouts and expressions of insult.

      “Throw us a line, and we’ll tow you!” cried one.

      “Whar’s yer old ark now?” shouted another.

      “Hurraw for the Magnolia! Three groans for the Belle of the West! Three