"Pssst! Boy!", the dark stranger with the pearlhandled derringer calls down the shadowed promenade deck.

"Was that note from Miss Fontaine? Give it here, boy! Now! Save you a hiding, so be quick! Hold by there ... you can deliver it momentarily."

He scans the note with a wry grin in the flickering oil-light from the deck lamps.

"Soooo...that little minx is making herself a new start, is she now? Nice to know how the cards are stacked, proud Mary...cousin, indeed. P'raps we two should have a l'il chat just a bit later!"

He draws an eagle out of his vest pocket.

"That's for saying nothing, boy! Y'heah me? Not a damn word, or you'll find that eagle coming out o' yer worthless bottom!".

He strolls on down toward the ships lively saloon room, chuckling.

Out beyond the bright white-painted gingerbread the dark wind-blown waters of what is now truly the Mississippi roll, whisper, and move on toward the great oceans in the south, and the madness which is New Orleans.