第166章 OF A SUDDEN RESOLUTION(1)

It was nearly morning when I fell asleep in my chair, from sheer exhaustion, for the day before had been a hard one, even for me.I awoke with a start, and sat for some minutes trying to collect my scattered senses.The sun streamed in at my open door, the birds hopped on the lawn, and the various sounds of the bustling life of the little town came to me from beyond.Suddenly, with a glimmering of the mad events of the night, I stood up, walked uncertainly into the back room, and stared at the bed.

It was empty.I went back into the outer room; my eye wandered from the shattered whiskey bottle, which was still on the floor, to the table littered with Mrs.

Temple's letters.And there, in the midst of them, lay a note addressed with my name in a big, unformed hand.Iopened it mechanically.

``Dear Davy,''--so it ran,--``I have gone away, I cannot tell you where.Some day I will come back and you will forgive me.God bless you! NICK.''

He had gone away! To New Orleans? I had long ceased trying to account for Nick's actions, but the more I reflected, the more incredible it seemed to me that he should have gone there, of all places.And yet I had had it from Clark's own lips (indiscreet enough now!) that Nick and St.Gre were to prepare the way for an insurrection there.My thoughts ran on to other possibilities;would he see his mother? But he had no reason to know that Mrs.Temple was still in New Orleans.Then my glance fell on her letters, lying open on the table.Had he read them? I put this down as improbable, for he was a man who held strictly to a point of honor.

And then there was Antoinette de St.Gre! I ceased to conjecture here, dashed some water in my eyes, pulled myself together, and, seizing my hat, hurried out into the street.I made a sufficiently indecorous figure as I ran towards the water-side, barely nodding to my acquaintances on the way.It was a fresh morning, a river breeze stirred the waters of the Bear Grass, and as I stood, scanning the line of boats there, I heard footsteps behind me.

I turned to confront a little man with grizzled, chestnut eyebrows.He was none other than the Citizen Gignoux.

``You tek ze air, Monsieur Reetchie?'' said he.``You look for some one, yes? You git up too late see him off.''

I made a swift resolve never to quibble with this man.

``So Mr.Temple has gone to New Orleans with the Sieur de St.Gre,'' I said.

Citizen Gignoux laid a fat finger on one side of his great nose.The nose was red and shiny, I remember, and glistened in the sunlight.

``Ah,'' said he, `` 'tis no use tryin' hide from you.

However, Monsieur Reetchie, you are the ver' soul of honor.

And then your frien'! I know you not betray the Sieur de St.Gre.He is ver' fon' of you.''

``Betray!'' I exclaimed; ``there is no question of betrayal.As far as I can see, your plans are carried on openly, with a fine contempt for the Federal government.''

He shrugged his shoulders.

`` 'Tis not my doin','' he said, ``but I am--what you call it?--a cipher.Sicrecy is what I believe.But drink too much, talk too much--is it not so, Monsieur? And if Monsieur le Baron de Carondelet, ze governor, hear they are in New Orleans, I think they go to Havana or Brazil.''

He smiled, but perhaps the expression of my face caused him to sober abruptly.``It is necessair for the cause.

We must have good Revolution in Louisiane.''

A suspicion of this man came over me, for a childlike simplicity characterized the other ringleaders in this expedition.Clark had had acumen once, and lost it; St.Gre was a fool; Nick Temple was leading purposely a reckless life; the Citizens Sullivan and Depeau had, to say the least, a limited knowledge of affairs.All of these were responding more or less sincerely to the cry of the people of Kentucky (every day more passionate) that something be done about Louisiana.But Gignoux seemed of a different feather.Moreover, he had been too shrewd to deny what Colonel Clark would have denied in a soberer moment,--that St.Gre and Nick had gone to New Orleans.

``You not spik, Monsieur.You not think they have success.You are not Federalist, no, for I hear you march las night with your frien',--I hear you wave torch.''

``You make it your business to hear a great deal, Monsieur Gignoux,'' I retorted, my temper slipping a little.

He hastened to apologize.

``Mille pardons, Monsieur,'' he said; ``I see you are Federalist--but drunk.Is it not so? Monsieur, you tink this ver' silly thing--this expedition.''

``Whatever I think, Monsieur,'' I answered, ``I am a friend of General Clark's.''

``An enemy of ze cause?'' he put in.

``Monsieur,'' I said, ``if President Washington and General Wayne do not think it worth while to interfere with your plans, neither do I.''

I left him abruptly, and went back to my long-delayed affairs with a heavy heart.The more I thought, the more criminally foolish Nick's journey seemed to me.However puerile the undertaking, De Lemos at Natchez and Carondelet at New Orleans had not the reputation of sleeping at their posts, and their hatred for Americans was well known.

I sought General Clark, but he had gone to Knob Licks, and in my anxiety I lay awake at nights tossing in my bed.

One evening, perhaps four days after Nick's departure, I went into the common room of the tavern, and there I was surprised to see an old friend.His square, saffron face was just the same, his little jet eyes snapped as brightly as ever, his hair--which was swept high above his forehead and tied in an eelskin behind--was as black as when I had seen it at Kaskaskia.I had met Monsieur Vigo many times since, for he was a familiar figure amongst the towns of the Ohio and the Mississippi, and from Vincennes to Anse a la Graisse, and even to New Orleans.His reputation as a financier was greater than ever.He was talking to my friend, Mr.Marshall, but he rose when he saw me, with a beaming smile.

``Ha, it is Davy,'' he cried, ``but not the sem lil drummer boy who would not come into my store.Reech lawyer now,--I hear you make much money now, Davy.''

``Congress money?'' I said.