"Resume
your chair."
"At least join me in a glass."
"There is blood in it," said Pisgah.
"I swear to you, no! Let me ring for your old beverage, absinthe."
The soldier halted, irresolutely; the liquor came before he could
refuse. When once his lips touched the vessel, Mr. Plade knew that there
was still a chance for life.
In an hour Mr. Pisgah was impotent from intoxication; his musket was
flung down the stairway, the door was bolted upon him, and the prisoner
was gone.
He gained the Planter's deck as the screw made its first revolution;
they turned the channel-piles with a good-by gun; the motley crew
cheered heartily as they cleared the mole.
The pirate was at sea on her mission of plunder--the murderer was free!
The engines stopped abreast the city; the steamer lay almost motionless,
for there were lights upon the beach; a shrill "Ahoy!" broke over the
intervening waters, and the dip of oars indicated some pursuit. The
crew, half drunken, rallied to the edge of the vessel; knives glittered
amid the confusion of oaths and the click of pistols, while Mr. Plade
hastened to the skipper's side, and urged him for pity and mercy to
hasten seaward.
The other motioned him back, coldly, and the boatswain piped all hands
upon deck.
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