It was late at night when the Montezuma arrived at New Orleans.  The steamer quietly took her berth at the levee, so that few of the passengers took any notice of their arrival, and contentedly turned over in their berths to wait the advent of the coming day.

Hatchie, who occupied a room near the boiler deck, had been awakened by the confusion of making fast the steamer.  His watchful vigil over the safety of his mistress did not permit him to slumber while the possibility of danger existed.  He had, therefore, risen; but scarcely had he completed his dress, when the door of his room was suddenly opened, and himself violently seized by two stout men.  The attack had been so sudden, and the movements of the assailants so well directed, that resistance was hopeless.  Before he fully realized the presence of his foes, his hands were pinioned behind him.  In this condition, without knowing why or by whom he was assailed, he was hurried away to the calaboose.

At an early hour in the morning carriages and drays began to assemble on the levee, and all the noise and bustle of landing passengers, baggage and freight, commenced.

Emily Dumont, as soon as it was fairly light, rose from her couch, and made her preparations to leave the steamer.  Fully equipped for her journey to Bellevue, she entered the cabin, where De Guy soon presented himself.

“Where is Hatchie?” was the first question she asked; for Hatchie had always been on the spot whenever and wherever she needed his services.

“I have taken the liberty to send him up to the St. Charles with your luggage.  You will, of course, breakfast there,” said the attorney, blandly.

“Such was not my intention,” replied she, as a cold tremor—­she knew not why—­agitated her.

“I am sorry to have mistaken your purpose; the ride to Bellevue is a long one to take without any refreshment.”

“I mind it not; my haste is too great to admit of any delay.”

“I sent by your servant to order an early breakfast, and a carriage at seven o’clock.”

“Very well, I will conform to the arrangement you have made,” replied Emily, with a dissatisfied air.

A carriage was called from the mass which had congregated, whose drivers were not a whit behind those of the metropolitan city in earnest perseverance; and De Guy assisted her into it, seating himself at a respectful distance on the forward seat.

Now, the act of engaging a cab or a carriage is of itself quite an easy matter; but we question whether passengers are generally as well suited as in the present instance.  Without troubling the worthy Mr. De Guy with any foolish queries as to where he should drive them, the Jehu mounted his box, and conducted his team apparently to the entire satisfaction of his fare.  It may be that the intelligent driver had a way of divining the wishes of his customers; or it may be that De Guy, in deference to any supposed repugnance to business matters on the part of his companion, had previously discussed this topic.  Without any design of prejudicing the reader’s mind in favor of the latter supposition, we confess our inclination to accept it as correct.