ut not the sem lil drummer boy who would
not come into my store. Reech lawyer now,--I hear you make much money
now, Davy."

"Congress money?" I said.

Monsieur Vigo threw out his hands, and laughed exactly as he had done in
his log store at Kaskaskia.

"Congress have never repay me one sou," said Monsieur Vigo, making a
face. "I have try--I have talk--I have represent--it is no good. Davy,
it is your fault. You tell me tek dat money. You call dat finance?"

"David," said Mr. Marshall, sharply, "what the devil is this I hear of
your carrying a torch in a Jacobin procession?"

"You may put it down to liquor, Mr. Marshall," I answered.

"Then you must have had a cask, egad," said Mr. Marshall, "for I never
saw you drunk."

I laughed.

"I shall not attempt to explain it, sir," I answered.

"You must not allow your drum to drag you into bad company again," said
he, and resumed his conversation. As I suspected, it was a vigorous
condemnation of General Clark and his new expedition. I expressed my
belief that the government did not regard it seriously, and would forbid
the enterprise at the proper time.

"You are right, sir," said Mr. Marshall, bringing down his fist on the
table. "I have private advices from Philadelphia that the President's
consideration for Governor Shelby is worn out, and that he will issue a
proclamation within the next few days warning all citizens at their peril
from any connection with the pirates."

I laughed.

"As a matter of fact, Mr. Marshall," said I, "Citizen Genet has been
liberal with nothing except commissions, and they have neither money nor
men."

"The rascals have all left town," said Mr. Marshall. "Citizen
Quartermaster Depeau, their local financier, has gone back to his store
at Knob Licks. The Sieur de St. Gre and a Mr. Temple, as doubtless you
know, have gone to New Orleans. And the most mysterious and therefore
the most dangerous of the lot, Citizen Gignoux, has vanished like an evil
spirit. It is commonly supposed that he, too, has gone down the river.
You may see him, Vigo," said Mr. Marshall, turning to the trader; "he is
a little man with a big nose and grizzled chestnut eyebrows."

"Ah, I know a lil 'bout him," said Monsieur Vigo; "he was on my boat two
days ago, asking me questions."

"The devil he was!" said Mr. Marshall.

I had another disquieting night, and by the morning I had made up my
mind. The sun was glinting on the placid waters of the river when I