"What was the matter with him ?" inquired Boyton, somewhat alarmed.
"Oh, it wasn't the fever, you need have no fear." Paul decided to land and wait until the fleet had passed at any rate, then he lighted his lamp and pushed off through the fog, preferring the solitude of the river to the society of the grief stricken Frenchman.
The fog lifted in the morning and he found that he was on time.

Ten miles above New Orleans, he was met by excursion steamers with enthusiastic crowds aboard.

Captain Leathers of the famous old boat, Natchez, was determined to outdo the others in the way of welcoming the voyager, for Boyton was an old friend.

He had a cannon placed on the deck of his boat, loaded to the muzzle.

A crowd of negroes were jammed on a lot of cotton bales, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of Paul and Captain Leathers fired right in amongst them.