and the others had actually given to me the credit of
this coup. "He never failed us yet. Hain't that truth, boys? Hain't we
a-goin' on to St. Vincent because he seen the Ha'r Buyer sculped on the
Ohio?"

The rest assented so heartily but withal so gravely, that I am between
laughter and tears over the remembrance of it.

"At noon you come back," said Monsieur Vigo. "I think till then about
rate of exchange, and talk with your Colonel. Davy, you stay here."

I remained, while the others filed out, and at length I was alone with
him and Jules, his clerk.

"Davy, how you like to be trader?" asked Monsieur Vigo.

It was a new thought to me, and I turned it over in my mind. To see the
strange places of the world, and the stranger people; to become a man of
wealth and influence such as Monsieur Vigo; and (I fear I loved it
best) to match my brains with others at a bargain,--I turned it all over
slowly, gravely, in my boyish mind, rubbing the hard dirt on the floor
with the toe of my moccasin. And suddenly the thought came to me that I
was a traitor to my friends, a deserter from the little army that loved
me so well.

"Eh bien?" said Monsieur Vigo.

I shook my head, but in spite of me I felt the tears welling into my
eyes and brushed them away shamefully. At such times of stress some of
my paternal Scotch crept into my speech.

"I will no be leaving Colonel Clark and the boys," I cried, "not for all
the money in the world."

"Congress money?" said Monsieur Vigo, with a queer expression.

It was then I laughed through my tears, and that cemented the friendship
between us. It was a lifelong friendship, though I little suspected it
then.

In the days that followed he never met me on the street that he did not
stop to pass the time of day, and ask me if I had changed my mind. He
came every morning to headquarters, where he and Colonel Clark sat by
the hour with brows knit. Monsieur Vigo was as good as his word, and
took the Congress money, though not at such a value as many would have
had him. I have often thought that we were all children then, and knew
nothing of the ingratitude of republics. Monsieur Vigo took the money,
and was all his life many, many thousand dollars the poorer. Father
Gibault advanced his little store, and lived to feel the pangs of want.
And Colonel Clark? But I must not go beyond the troubles of that summer,
and the problems that vexed our commander. One night I missed him from
the room wh