Nick's actions, but the more I reflected, the more incredible it
seemed to me that he should have gone there, of all places. And yet I
had had it from Clark's own lips (indiscreet enough now!) that Nick and
St. Gre were to prepare the way for an insurrection there. My thoughts
ran on to other possibilities; would he see his mother? But he had no
reason to know that Mrs. Temple was still in New Orleans. Then my glance
fell on her letters, lying open on the table. Had he read them? I put
this down as improbable, for he was a man who held strictly to a point of
honor.

And then there was Antoinette de St. Gre! I ceased to conjecture here,
dashed some water in my eyes, pulled myself together, and, seizing my
hat, hurried out into the street. I made a sufficiently indecorous
figure as I ran towards the water-side, barely nodding to my
acquaintances on the way. It was a fresh morning, a river breeze stirred
the waters of the Bear Grass, and as I stood, scanning the line of boats
there, I heard footsteps behind me. I turned to confront a little man
with grizzled, chestnut eyebrows. He was none other than the Citizen
Gignoux.

"You tek ze air, Monsieur Reetchie?" said he. "You look for some one,
yes? You git up too late see him off."

I made a swift resolve never to quibble with this man.

"So Mr. Temple has gone to New Orleans with the Sieur de St. Gre," I
said.

Citizen Gignoux laid a fat finger on one side of his great nose. The
nose was red and shiny, I remember, and glistened in the sunlight.

"Ah," said he, "'tis no use tryin' hide from you. However, Monsieur
Reetchie, you are the ver' soul of honor. And then your frien'! I know
you not betray the Sieur de St. Gre. He is ver' fon' of you."

"Betray!" I exclaimed; "there is no question of betrayal. As far as I
can see, your plans are carried on openly, with a fine contempt for the
Federal government."

He shrugged his shoulders.

"'Tis not my doin'," he said, "but I am--what you call it?--a cipher.
Sicrecy is what I believe. But drink too much, talk too much--is it not
so, Monsieur? And if Monsieur le Baron de Carondelet, ze governor, hear
they are in New Orleans, I think they go to Havana or Brazil." He
smiled, but perhaps the expression of my face caused him to sober
abruptly. "It is necessair for the cause. We must have good Revolution
in Louisiane."

A suspicion of this man came over me, for a childlike simplicity
characterized the other ringleaders in th