"Haven't you a knife about you, Nick?" exclaimed Turner. The danger increased every moment: a few minutes more must decide their fate. "Come quick!--come both of you, then, in the name of all the devils in hell!--only quickly!" he cried, at last, in a rage, for he knew how invaluable every second was. But even if he could have made the combatants comprehend his wish, Normann, after what had taken place, would not, on any account, have put himself into the hands of his treacherous companions; but as it was, neither of the two enraged men heard even a syllable of the proposal. Nick had, with infinite trouble, got his hand into his pocket, and pulled out a small pocket pistol, which he quickly and secretly turned towards the German's forehead. But this movement of his opponent had not remained unobserved by the latter, and he threw his arm upward, and struck the weapon aside, at the very moment the mulatto was pulling the trigger: the ball even grazed his ear, and the powder singed his face. But now, driven to the extremity of rage, he no longer heard even the approaching galloping of the horses, but seizing the slim figure of the negro with all the strength he possessed, he threw him to the ground. In the same moment, the pursuers appeared on the river bank, close above the two wrestlers, and Turner's boat glided out beneath the shadow of the bushes into the Mississippi. "Confusion!" said the Yankee, gnashing his teeth, finding he had to handle the two heavy oars in tholes which did not correspond. "Confusion seize that awkward brute of a nigger! to let himself be upset like that by a Dutchman; if they only hang the varmint, and I hear of it, that'll be some comfort! Well, my pretty, now we two must make the journey alone," he said, turning grinning to the prisoner lying before him; "didn't I tell you, my poppet, that you----" "Help, help, here! Help!" suddenly cried with a loud voice, the unhappy girl, who had, meanwhile, with the most fearful exertions, freed herself from the gag. "Help, here! Help!" In the next instant, the palm of the American's hand was on her lips, and he whispered to her, through his clenched teeth-- "Ho-ho! my pretty little dove, must I draw the bit a little tighter? So," he continued, whilst he made any further attempt at screaming futile, by a large woollen cloth--"so! if it should be a little close for you, you must bear it; over in Arkansas, I'll make you more comfortable." He seized the oars once more, and pulled away till the tumid veins on his forehead threatened to burst the skin;--"Stop!" resounded across from the shore, and, as he was gazing thither, to see to whom the call was addressed, for he was himself too far for it to have reference to him--a flash gleamed in the obscurity and the report of a shot followed.