Once more entirely alone in a strange city, Helen considered the next step to be taken in her eventful journey. The following morning, the 4th of February, she proceeded to the agency of the steamer Morning Star, advertised to sail on the 8th, and purchased a ticket, but was informed that she must procure a pass from the provost-marshal before attempting to go on board the steamship. The pass could only be obtained in person. Here was indeed a difficulty, but she soon decided to confront the danger boldly, and trust to unforeseen circumstances to suggest some way of extricating herself. Without delay our heroine reached Carondelet street. Ascending to the second story of a conspicuous building where the marshal's office was located, she became one of a crowd impatiently pressing for an audience and separated by an iron railing from the functionary who presided over the scene. While awaiting her chance she had an opportunity carefully to study his handsome features, and quickly discerned him to be a man of action and decision. His keen, dark-gray eye--that gray so often mistaken for black--also cautioned her to beware. It was soon apparent that he had singled out the attractive young lady from the motley crowd as one who merited unusual attention, for he ordered his clerk to open the gate and admit her within the official domain. As she entered the marshal signalled to her to take a seat at his side, while he continued signing passes. But Helen was conscious that he was furtively observing her quite as much as the paper on which he was writing. Suddenly he turned and inquired of her, "To what place do you wish a pass?" "To New York," she answered. "Have you taken the oath?" he asked again. "Not yet," she said: "I should like to do so unobserved." Folding and placing a large folio under his arm, the officer said, "Follow me to my private office, where I will administer it." So saying, he led the way up another flight of stairs to a spacious room. Spreading the registry of oaths on the table, he bade her be seated. "Never in the presence of a Yankee officer," she exclaimed. "Well, as you please," he said impatiently: "now hold up your right hand." "Nor will I take the oath of allegiance," she added with an emphasis and audacity that made him start. "What?" he exclaimed. "Who are you? and where did you come from?" In a few brief words Miss Gerard told her story. "And after this you presume to ask a pass of me!" said the officer; and, putting his pen behind his ear and springing impetuously to his feet, he led her by one hand to the window, while with his other he pointed to a gloomy-looking brick building plainly in sight, and sternly said, "Do you see that parish prison?" "I do." "Well, I shall have to put you there unless you consent to take the oath of allegiance."