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"You make it your business to hear a great deal, Monsieur Gignoux," I retorted, my temper slipping a little. He hastened to apologize. "Mille pardons, Monsieur," he said; "I see you are Federalist but drunk. Is it not so? Monsieur, you tink this ver' silly thing this expedition." "Whatever I think, Monsieur," I answered, "I am a friend of General Clark's." "An enemy of ze cause?" he put in.
"I saw Monsieur Gignoux in conference with some of your officers who came out of this hotel." "You have sharp eyes, Monsieur," he remarked. "I suspected the man when I met him in Kentucky," I continued, not heeding this. "Monsieur Vigo himself distrusted him.
To say that Gignoux were deep in the councils of the expedition, that he held a commission from Citizen Genet, I realize will have no weight with your Excellency, provided the man is in the secret service of his Majesty the King of Spain." "Mr. Ritchie," said the Baron, "you are a young man and I an old one.
"I give you one toast," said the little Citizen Gignoux, slyly, "we all bring back one wife from Nouvelle Orleans! "Ha," exclaimed the Sieur de St. Gre, laughing, "the Citizen Captain Depeau he has already one wife in Nouvelle Orleans." It is unnecessary for the editor to remind the reader that these are not Mr. Ritchie's words, but those of an adventurer. Mr.
This was another shock, under which the Baron fairly staggered. "Diable! is Madame la Vicomtesse in the plot?" he cried. "What does Madame know of Gignoux?" Madame's manner suddenly froze. "I am likely to be in the plot, Monsieur," she said.
"Since when did Monsieur assume this intimate position in my family?" he said, glancing at the Vicomtesse. "Monsieur de St. Gre," I replied with difficulty, "you will confine yourself to the matter in hand. You are in no situation to demand terms; you must take or leave what is offered you. Last night the man called Gignoux, who was of your party, was at the Governor's house."
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.
Gre and I were joined above Natchez by that little pig, Citizen Gignoux, and we shot past De Lemos in the night. Since then we have been permitted to sleep no more at various plantations. We have been waked up at barbarous hours in the morning and handed on, as it were. They were all fond of us, but likewise they were all afraid of the Baron. What day is to-day? Monday?
"I give you one toast," said the little Citizen Gignoux, slyly, "we all bring back one wife from Nouvelle Orleans! "Ha," exclaimed the Sieur de St. Gre, laughing, "the Citizen Captain Depeau he has already one wife in Nouvelle Orleans." It is unnecessary for the editor to remind the reader that these are not Mr. Ritchie's words, but those of an adventurer. Mr.
There was no question of sleep, for the events of the day and surmises for the morrow tortured me as I tossed in the heat. Had the man been Gignoux? If so, he was in league with Carondelet's police. I believed him fully capable of this. And if he knew Nick's whereabouts and St. Gre's, they would both be behind the iron gateway of the calabozo in the morning.
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