e as she gave me this array of virtues) "can be perfectly
established. When he came to New Orleans some years ago he brought
letters to Monsieur de St. Gre from Monsieur Gratiot and Colonel Chouteau
of St. Louis, and he is known to Mr. Clark and to Monsieur Vigo. He is a
Federalist, as you know, and has no sympathy with the Jacobins."

"Eh bien, Mr. Ritchie," said the Baron, getting his breath, "you are
fortunate in your advocate. Madame la Vicomtesse neglected to say that
she was your friend, the greatest of all recommendations in my eyes."

"You are delightful, Monsieur le Baron," said the Vicomtesse.

"Perhaps Mr. Ritchie can tell me something of this expedition," said the
Baron, his eyes growing smaller as he looked at me.

"Willingly," I answered. "Although I know that your Excellency is well
informed, and that Monsieur Vigo has doubtless given you many of the
details that I know."

He interrupted me with a grunt.

"You Americans are clever people, Monsieur," he said; "you contrive to
combine shrewdness with frankness."

"If I had anything to hide from your Excellency, I should not be here," I
answered. "The expedition, as you know, has been as much of a farce as
Citizen Genet's commissions. But it has been a sad farce to me, inasmuch
as it involves the honor of my old friend and Colonel, General Clark, and
the safety of my cousin, Mr. Temple."

"So you were with Clark in Illinois?" said the Baron, craftily. "Pardon
me, Mr. Ritchie, but I should have said that you are too young."

"Monsieur Vigo will tell you that I was the drummer boy of the regiment,
and a sort of ward of the Colonel's. I used to clean his guns and cook
his food."

"And you did not see fit to follow your Colonel to Louisiana?" said his
Excellency, for he had been trained in a service of suspicion.

"General Clark is not what he was," I replied, chafing a little at his
manner; "your Excellency knows that, and I put loyalty to my government
before friendship. And I might remind your Excellency that I am neither
an adventurer nor a fool."

The little Baron surprised me by laughing. His irritability and his good
nature ran in streaks.

"There is no occasion to, Mr. Ritchie," he answered. "I have seen
something of men in my time. In which category do you place your cousin,
Mr. Temple?"

"If a love of travel and excitement and danger constitutes an adventurer,
Mr. Temple is such," I said. "Fortunately the main spur of the
adventurer's