om, and think no more on what you have lost."

Whether it was the late excitement consequent upon the false alarm, or
whether it was the strange development I had just listened to, aided by
the cool river breeze, I know not; but the intoxication passed away, and
my brain became clear. I doubted not for a moment that the young Creole
had told me the truth. His manner as well as words, connected with the
circumstances that had just transpired, produced full conviction.

I felt impressed with a deep sense of gratitude to him for the service
he had rendered, and at such risk to himself--for even the _ruse_ he had
adopted might have had an awkward ending for him, had any one seen him
fire off his pistols.

Why had he acted thus? Why this interest in my affairs? Had he
assigned the true reason? Was it a feeling of pure chivalry that had
prompted him? I had heard of just such instances of noble nature among
the Creole-French of Louisiana. Was this another illustration of that
character?

I say I was impressed with a deep sense of gratitude, and resolved to
follow his advice.

"I shall do as you say," I replied, "on one condition."

"Name it, Monsieur."

"That you will give me your address, so that when we arrive in New
Orleans, I may have the opportunity of renewing your acquaintance, and
proving to you my gratitude."

"Alas, Monsieur! I have no address."

I felt embarrassed. The melancholy tone in which these words were
uttered was not to be mistaken; some grief pressed heavily on that young
and generous heart.

It was not for me to inquire into its cause, least of all at that time;
but my own secret sorrow enabled me to sympathise the more deeply with
others, and I felt I stood beside one whose sky was far from serene. I
felt embarrassed by his answer. It left me in a delicate position to
make reply. I said at length--

"Perhaps you will do me the favour to call upon me? I live at the Hotel
Saint Luis."

"I shall do so with pleasure."

"To-morrow?"

"To-morrow night."

"I shall stay at home for you. _Bon soir_, Monsieur."

We parted, each taking the way to his state-room.

In ten minutes after I lay in my shelf-like bed, asleep; and in ten
hours after I was drinking my _cafe_ in the Hotel Saint Luis.

CHAPTER FIFTY.

THE CITY.

I am strongly in favour of a country life. I am a lover of the chase
and the angle.

Perhaps if I were to analyse the feeling, I might find that these