derstan' me, you saw,
Monsieur, he does not appreciate--that is the Engleesh. Mon Dieu, you
saw it this night. I, who spik to you, am made for a courtier, a noble.
I have the gift. La Louisiane--she is not so big enough for me." He
lowered his voice still further, and bent nearer to me. "Monsieur, I
run away to France. My cousin the Marquis will help me. You will hear
of Auguste de St. Gre at Versailles, at Trianon, at Chantilly, and
peut-etre--"

"It is a worthy campaign, Monsieur," I interrupted.

A distant sound broke the stillness, and Auguste was near to dropping
the candle on me.

"Adieu, Monsieur," he whispered; "milles tonneres, I have done one
extraordinaire foolish thing when I am come to this house to-night."

And he disappeared, shading his candle, as he had come.

CHAPTER XIV. RETRIBUTION

During the next two days I had more evidence of Monsieur de St. Gre's
ability, and, thanks to his conduct of my campaign, not the least
suspicion of my mission to New Orleans got abroad. Certain gentlemen
were asked to dine, we called on others, and met still others casually
in their haunts of business or pleasure. I was troubled because of
the inconvenience and discomfort to which my host put himself, for New
Orleans in the dog-days may be likened in climate to the under side of
the lid of a steam kettle. But at length, on the second evening, after
we had supped on jambalaya and rice cakes and other dainties, and the
last guest had gone, my host turned to me.

"The rest of the burrow is the same, Mr. Ritchie, until it comes to the
light again."

"And the fox has crawled out of the other end," I said.

"Precisely," he answered, laughing; "in short, if you were to remain in
New Orleans until New Year's, you would not learn a whit more. To-morrow
morning I have a little business of my own to transact, and we shall
get to Les Iles in time for dinner. No, don't thank me," he protested;
"there's a certain rough honesty and earnestness ingrained in you
which I like. And besides," he added, smiling, "you are poor indeed at
thanking, Mr. Ritchie. You could never do it gracefully. But if ever I
were in trouble, I believe that I might safely call on you."

The next day was a rare one, for a wind from somewhere had blown the
moisture away a little, the shadows were clearer cut, and by noon
Monsieur de St. Gre and I were walking our horses in the shady road
behind the levee. We were followed at a respectful distance b