the tears almost forcing themselves to my eyes at the
pathetic sordidness of what I had heard.

"It can come to nothing," continued the Captain, in a changed voice.
"General Clark's mind is unhinged by--disappointment. Mad Anthony(1) is
not a man to be caught sleeping, and he has already attended to a little
expedition from the Cumberland. Mad Anthony loves the General, as we all
do, and the Federal government is wiser than the Jacobins think. It may
not be necessary to do anything." Captain Wendell paused, and looked
at me fixedly. "Ritchie, General Clark likes you, and you have never
offended him. Why not go to his little house in Clarksville when you get
to Louisville and talk to him plainly, as I know you can? Perhaps you
might have some influence."

(1) General Wayne of Revolutionary fame was then in command of that
district.

I shook my head sadly.

"I intend to go," I answered, "but I will have no influence."

CHAPTER II. THE HOUSE ABOVE THE FALLS

It was May-day, and shortly after dawn we slipped into the quiet water
which is banked up for many miles above the Falls. The Captain and I sat
forward on the deck, breathing deeply the sharp odor which comes from
the wet forest in the early morning, listening to the soft splash of the
oars, and watching the green form of Eighteen Mile Island as it gently
drew nearer and nearer. And ere the sun had risen greatly we had passed
Twelve Mile Island, and emerging from the narrow channel which divides
Six Mile Island from the northern shore, we beheld, on its terrace above
the Bear Grass, Louisville shining white in the morning sun. Majestic in
its mile of width, calm, as though gathering courage, the river seemed
to straighten for the ordeal to come, and the sound of its waters crying
over the rocks far below came faintly to my ear and awoke memories of a
day gone by. Fearful of the suck, we crept along the Indian shore until
we counted the boats moored in the Bear Grass, and presently above the
trees on our right we saw the Stars and Stripes floating from the log
bastion of Fort Finney. And below the fort, on the gentle sunny slope to
the river's brink, was spread the green garden of the garrison, with its
sprouting vegetables and fruit trees blooming pink and white.

We were greeted by a company of buff and blue officers at the landing,
and I was bidden to breakfast at their mess, Captain Wendell promising
to take me over to Louisville afterwards. He had