The commander of the Middy seemed to be much troubled when his little first-lieutenant had gone to execute the order. He did not speak for some time; and, as it was not proper to submit his doubts to a quartermaster, we must add that the want of a suitable officer to conduct the expedition was the occasion of his perplexity. Mr. Dickey was the only officer who was available for the important duty, and it was not proper that the captain should go himself. Mr. Dickey was young, brave and smart in double sense; but he was hardly qualified to execute so difficult an undertaking. Captain Bankhead had seen one expedition fail for want of discretion on the part of an officer; and he was very much inclined to leave Mr. Dickey in charge of the Middy, and perform the duty himself. This plan was rejected; for the steamer herself might be captured in his absence. There was no alternative but to commit the charge of the expedition to Mr. Dickey; and accordingly that little officer was duly instructed for the purpose. The best men on board were detailed to form his crew, all of them armed to the teeth. Mr. Dickey was solemnly charged to be prudent, and to act with vigor and determination. The chief engineer was ordered to go in the boat, as his services would be required in case the enterprise should be successful. Mr. Dickey was directed to consult with him in any emergency. Captain Bankhead had decided to make a demonstration with the Middy in order to cover up the movements of the boat-party. The anchor was weighed, and she stood over to the other side of the river, where, under the shadow of the high bank, the boat cast off, and pulled up the river with muffled oars. The Middy was then headed down the river; and those who were watching no doubt congratulated themselves that they had driven her off. Curled up in the bow of the cutter, Jack Somers related his adventures to Tom Longstone, who was one of the party. He spoke in whispers; and Tom did not speak at all, so deeply was he absorbed in the exciting story. The oarsmen pulled for two hours against the current, when she was in the vicinity of the bayou where the cotton-steamer lay. Of course, none of the party knew precisely where to find the mouth of the stream they were to ascend. Jack Somers was in the bow of the cutter, on the lookout for anything like an opening in the bank of the river. The boat still kept under the shadow of the left bank of the river; and Mr. Dickey had carefully observed his instructions to preserve entire silence. While Jack was on the watch, straining his eyes to find the bayou, he discovered a light on the opposite shore; and, when the boat had advanced a little farther, he clearly discerned the opening for which he had been in search. But the light was ominous. It was clearly a lantern in the hands of a man, as its occasional motion plainly showed.