the promised packet of letters was delivered to me at the plow shortly after dark, by the man who had served coffee at the colonel's. it was accompanied by a note in which mr. burr pleaded pressing business as an excuse for not delivering the packet in person. to this he had added a postscript empowering me to break the seal of the packet upon my arrival at st. louis.

it struck me as most odd that the packet should have been sealed at all. but upon reflection, i concluded that this was a very proper precaution against a chance inspection of the contents by prying busy-bodies who should happen to handle the packet. the letters might well contain statements open to misconstruction by the colonel's numerous and powerful enemies, or details of plans, publicity of which, owing to the necessity of secrecy, might disconcert the progress of the great project. the instruction to me to open the packet upon my arrival prevented any questioning of the colonel's confidence in myself.

thanks to a large hostler-fee, my horse came from the stable after his day of rest as fresh as when we left washington, and hardened by the trip. he had need for all the endurance within his nature. before dawn his hoofs were clattering across the great new bridge over the schuylkill.

in the dense night of the bridge's enclosed roof and sides, it was like riding through a hall of vast length, with no guidance other than the faint starlight at the far end. the thought struck me that this was apt symbol of my love-quest. the darkness was as the night of my lady's fathomless eyes, through which in the uncertain distance i could no more than fancy a dim starlight of hope.

musing on the conceit, i continued the allegory as we left the bridge and splattered away on the old colonial road to the monongahela, with the fancy that in spirit, as in body, i had passed from the shut-in blackness out into the openness of space, and that before me was promise of fair dawn.

the day's dawn came as promised, bringing me still greater elevation of spirit. and within the mile a mischievous farmer's brat by the wayside tumbled me from heaven to muddy earth by howling in a voice of lively concern that my horse had lost his tail. so near does the ridiculous skirt the sublime! i had begun my journey on the day of all fools.

perish superstition! who but the ignorant believes in signs and omens? and if mine was in truth a wild-goose chase, the sooner i reached the end of my running the better. i neither would nor could have checked myself had the thought come to me to turn back.

a journey tedious enough in the best of seasons is not improved by april rains and boggy roads. on the other hand, i had that drawing me westward which would have spurred the tortoise into striving for the hare's leap. it is sufficient evidence of my haste to state that, for all the condition of the roads, i made in fifteen days the trip which is considered well covered if ridden in nineteen.

let me hasten to add that this was not done on one nag. even had not my love of man's second friend served to prevent so brutal an attempt, failure would have been inevitable. with the best of roads, not a horse in the republic could have carried through a man of my weight in the time. the attempt was not necessary. thanks to a kindly acquaintance here and there along my route and to a sufficiency of silver in my saddlebags, i managed to obtain a fresh mount on an average of twice in every three days. with such relays, i was able to ride post-haste, yet leave behind me each horse, in turn, none the worse for his part in the race.

up hill and down dale, pound, splatter, and chug, i pushed my mounts to their best pace, along the old philadelphia road. in other circumstances and under clearer skies i might have paused now and again to enjoy the pleasant aspect of the alleghany scenery,—its winding rivers and brooks, its romantic heights and budding woods. but from the first my thoughts were ever flying ahead to the monongahela, and the sole interest i turned to my surroundings was centred upon such urgent matters as food, lodging, and fresh mounts.

at the end of the journey i found myself in clear memory of but three incidents,—a tavern brawl with a dozen or more carousing young farmers, who chose to consider themselves insulted by my refusal to take more than one glass of their raw whiskey; the swimming of the susquehanna river, because of a disablement of the ferry; and a brush with a trio of highwaymen at nightfall in the thick of a dense wood. the rascals did not catch me with damp priming. when they sprang out at me, i knocked over the foremost, as he reached for the bridle, with a thrust of my rifle muzzle, and swung the barrel around in time to shatter the shoulder of the second fellow with a shot fired from the hip. the third would have done for me had not his priming flashed in the pan. he turned and leaped back into the thicket, while i was quite content to clap spurs to my horse and gallop on up the road.

but even this last adventure failed to hold a place in my thoughts when at last, near mid-afternoon of the fifteenth day, i came in view of elizabethtown on the monongahela. here it was i had reason to hope that i might overtake señor vallois and his party. with roads so difficult, it was more to be expected that he would take boat from this lively little shipping point than rag on through the mire to pittsburg.

cheered by the thought, i urged my horse into a jog trot, which, however, soon fell back into a walk as the weary beast floundered through the deeper mire of the town's main street. i rode as directly as possible toward the leading tavern. señor vallois was not the man to lie at any other than the best of inns when choice offered.

with quick-beating heart i made out the sign of the tavern i sought, and again attempted to urge my horse into a jog. he was slow to respond either to word or spur, and i suddenly gave over the effort at sight of a tall and dignified figure which stepped from the inn door and swung easily upon the horse which a half-grown lad had been holding in wait.

the first glance had told me what i most wished to know. my chase had not been fruitless. the spanish cloak and hat and high riding boots of the don were unmistakable, even had i not recognized the spanish dignity of his bearing. certain of his identity, i would have preferred to postpone a meeting until i had found opportunity to bathe and to change to the one shift of linen and clothes which i carried behind the cantle of my saddle. yet i made no attempt to avoid him when he wheeled his horse about and rode directly toward me.

had it not been for our first meeting in the yellow clay of washington's famous avenue, i doubt if the don were unmistakable, even had i not recognized buckskins. with that memory in mind, it is not unlikely that my mud-smirched condition only served to add to the quickness of his perception. we were almost passing, when he raised his eyes, which had been staring down into the miry road in frowning abstraction. his glance swept over me and rested on my face. a moment later he had drawn rein and was bowing to me.

"por dios! it is our gallant caballero of the mire!—buenos dias, dr. robinson!"

"to you the same, señor vallois!" i returned.

"it is a strange chance which brings us to a meeting in this wilderness bog," he remarked, with what i thought was a shade of suspicion in his proud black eyes.

there was every reason for me to seek at once to place myself on the footing with him that i desired. meeting his glance with a careless nod, i answered readily: "it is a pleasant chance which brings us together here, but not a strange one. little travel comes from philadelphia to the ohio other than on the road we both have such cause to remember."

"from philadelphia?" he questioned.

"i carry despatches from colonel burr."

"you!" he cried, thrown out of his aristocratic reserve. but in the same breath he was bowing his apologies. "your pardon, señor! i was not aware that you and colonel burr—"

"nor he, señor, until a few days ago," i hastened to explain. "senator adair of kentucky was formerly my father's friend and camp-mate. he advised me to see colonel burr. when i started upon my return west, i came by way of philadelphia. it did not take me long to come to an agreement with—" i lowered my voice and leaned nearer the don—"the man who professes an intention to strike off the fetters of a land dear to señor vallois."

"poder de dios!" cried the don, reaching his hand to me with a fiery impetuosity of which i had believed him incapable—"santisima virgen! you are one of us! you have cast in your lot with the new league of freedom!"

it angered me that i must qualify. "hold, señor! i did not say that. i have not gone so far—as yet."

"as yet?" he demanded.

"your pardon, señor, but many such projects are schemed, and in the end prove to be—'castles in spain.'"

he smiled gravely and without offence. "señor, i give you my word that i and my friends are prepared to build the western wall of the castle."

"your word, señor, is sufficient. but there remains the eastern wall, and i am doubtful of the builders. i did not ask for colonel burr's word. i preferred something more substantial. he has promised that i shall receive such proof upon my arrival at st. louis."

"then you, too, go to the—to st. louis?"

"to the general," i responded, surmising that it was general wilkinson whom he had hesitated to name.

"you spoke of despatches."

"letters from the colonel to parties we both seek, in st. louis and new orleans."

"colonel burr entrusted me with numerous despatches."

"he mentioned the day of my visit with him in philadelphia as the eighth after your departure. that week may have seen developments or changes which required fresh despatches."

"poder de dios!" he exclaimed. "you left philadelphia eight days later—and are here!"

"at your service, señor."

"santisima virgen! and i had four horses to my carriage!"

"i had nine horses beneath my saddle, in succession."

"virgen! what a caballero!"

"when a man is in haste to see his journey's end, señor, he does not loll about taverns on the way. you came in yesterday?" he bowed. "then you may be able to tell me what are the chances of obtaining quick passage down the river."

he looked across toward the shipyards with a frown.

"i am now on my way to inquire, señor," he answered. "against the better counsel of colonel burr, i was so ill advised as to bring a seaman from the seaboard to have charge of the water journey."

"a salt-water sailor on an ohio flat!" i exclaimed.

"the señor forgets that i am a stranger to his forest wilderness."

"your pardon, señor vallois!—permit me to ride with you. it may be i can assist you."

"na-da-a!" he protested. "i cannot permit it. you have ridden for fifteen days at more than post speed. you must first refresh yourself."

"the señor forgets that i am no less eager than himself to arrange for the river passage. rest assured i am good for another day in the saddle, if need be, at your service, señor."

as i wheeled around, and we started for the riverside, he looked me up and down with a wondering glance.

"por dios!" he muttered. "i had thought none could ride as ride our vaqueros. you are a man of iron."

"i am the son of my father," i replied. "how other than hard could be the sons of the men who wrested this western land from the savages,—who have driven the cherokees, creeks, and choctaws south of tennessee, and pressed back the northwest indians to their present fastnesses about the great lakes?"

"it is true," he said. "i have been told no little of that most cruel and ferocious warfare waged by your savage enemies. i myself know the fearsomeness of the raids of our equally ferocious apaches and yaquis. therefore i do not wonder that the men and the sons of the men who met their painted enemies in this gloomy wilderness should have become not only hard, but rude and harsh in their manners."

"given that and the prevailing craze for raw whiskey, and we have—what we have. yet they are the men whose fathers met the indian on his own ground; who themselves have met the ravaging war parties, and who will doubtless again meet them,—though i trust not again on the banks of the ohio."

"may the virgin grant that your trust is well founded!" returned the señor, with deep earnestness. "yet the british soldiers still hold your lake forts, and it is rumored that the british agents are ever at work conspiring with the northern tribes against the interests of your people. let me predict that unless britain is humbled by the great emperor, she will make excuse of your many differences to crush your republic and regain these lost colonies."

"let her try!" i cried. "let her turn loose her savage allies upon us, and we will hurl them back into the lakes! we will cross over and drive redcoats and redskins alike down the st. lawrence into the sea! even the abject people of the seaboard, who now lick the foot that spurns them, will remember their fathers of the revolution, and strike the enemy as paul jones and his fellows struck them,—on the sea."

the señor met my enthused glance with unmoved gravity. "i have heard mention of what is called president jefferson's mosquito fleet."

our arrival at the shipyards gave me welcome excuse to change the subject. i pointed to the scores of river craft, afloat in the stream or in course of construction. "had you in mind, señor, to take a bateau or a flat?"

"bateau?—flat?" he repeated. "your pardon, doctor, but the terms—?"

"a bateau is a boat of flat bottom but with keel. a flat is a great scow without keel, and often provided with deal cabins."

"i had been told how to proceed, but left all to that rascal of a seaman. immediately upon our arrival, he told me, with many foul oaths, that he intended to make no ventures on fresh water, and to show his contempt for the saltless fluid, has sat ever since in the taproom of the inn, guzzling whiskey."

"you are better off without the fellow," i said. "there are scores of men to be hired here who are well used to river travel. is it your intention to hire passage, or to purchase your own boat?"

"privacy is desirable. i have disposed of my coach and horses with less loss than i had feared. if boats are not too high in price—"

"rest easy as to that, señor. boats are one of the cheapest products of the shipping towns. the question first to decide is whether you prefer a keelboat or a flat."

"señor, i must rely upon your good advice," he replied.

i pointed at the swollen, turbid current of the monongahela, swirling high along its banks. "as you see, the river is in full flood. it is what the rivermen term the spring fresh. the ohio now runs no less swiftly, at times fully eight miles an hour. i should advise you to choose a flat, because it will travel little less speedily than a bateau, and with its house, will prove a far more comfortable craft for so long a voyage."

"comfort is an important consideration, doctor. with me travels my niece, whom you may remember."

i kept such command of my features as i could. "i have a clear memory of señorita vallois. it is unfortunate."

"unfortunate!" he exclaimed, with a lift of his black brows.

"that you have no servant skilled in handling a river boat."

"ah—that!"

"a single man could manage your flat, provided you were willing to lend a hand on occasion at steer-oar or pole—a few minutes, it might be, once or twice a day. there are, as i have said, numbers of skilled rivermen to be hired. but—" i paused as if to consider—"no. i could bring you more than one for whose faithfulness i could vouch, but none who is not foul-mouthed and—to a foreigner—insolent."

shifting my gaze to the nearest flat, i waited in eager suspense. he answered with a question: "do i understand you to say that with my help one man could guide so clumsy a craft?" i nodded, with assumed carelessness. "and you are yourself skilled as a riverman, señor?" again i nodded. i could not trust myself to speak. he continued with polite hesitancy: "would you, then, think it odd, dr. robinson, if i requested you to make the river journey with me?"

"señor!" i cried, "it would give me great pleasure!"

"carambo!" he muttered, at sight of my glowing face.

a moment's hesitancy would have lost me all the vantage i had gained. i held my left hand level before me, and swept off the upturned palm with my right. there are few of the indian signs which do not pass current from the lakes of the north and the swamps of the south to the most remote of the tribes in the far west. i was right in my surmise that they were known even across the spanish borders.

the señor bowed in quick apology: "a thousand pardons, señor robinson!"

"a man does not ride post-haste without expense," i said, with a seriousness which was not all feigned.

"a thousand pardons!" he repeated. "my purse is at your disposal, señor robinson. i do not speak in empty compliment. such funds as you may require—"

"muchas gracias!" i broke in. "i have enough silver left to jingle in my pocket. my thought was that it would be more agreeable to work my passage with an acquaintance than with strangers. at this season it is unusual for persons of culture to undertake the river trip. the voyage is becoming quite the fashion among young gentlemen of means and enterprise, but they seldom venture over the mountains before settled weather, and the rivermen, as i have remarked, are not always the best of company."

"señor, no more! we share this voyage as fellow-travellers—my boat and your skill. is it not so?"

"señor, my thanks!" i replied. "yet first, there is the question of señorita vallois's pleasure. it is a long voyage. i would not thrust myself upon your intimacy against the lady's inclinations."

"my niece will be no less pleased than myself to travel in company with a gentleman of your acquaintance. i will answer for that. my niece has lived for three years in england. while we travel in anglo-america, we are agreed to comply with such customs of the country as do not differ too widely from our own."

i bowed low to hide my extreme satisfaction. it was the rarest of good fortune to have penetrated the reserve with which a spanish gentleman surrounds the ladies of his family. but it was not my part to dwell upon the fact. i hastened to point out a flatboat which had caught my eye when we first rode down to the bank.

"what is your opinion of that craft?" i asked.

"so large a boat—for two men? santa maria!"

"hardly forty feet over all," i replied. "let us go aboard."

he swung to the ground as quickly as myself, and we hitched our horses to the nearest stump. as the flat was moored alongside the rough wharf, we had only to step aboard. the height of the water brought the craft almost on a level with the wharf.

a glance or two showed me that the boat was already fitted out with steer-oar, sweeps and poles, a kedge with ample line, and a light skiff, snugly stowed in the ten-foot space of open prow. having next made sure that she was well calked and dry, i led the señor through the house. it was divided into three apartments or rooms, of which the one nearest the stern was some five feet the longest.

"here," i said, pointing to the rude but well-built fireplace, "is the kitchen, salon, and dining-room of our floating inn."

we passed on through the middle and forward rooms. like the kitchen, both were limited to a width of seven feet by the need of a runway without, along each side of the boat. but señor vallois looked about approvingly.

"we could share this cabin," he said, glancing about the forward room.

"my thanks, señor, but i can make shift to sleep on deck," i replied.

"there will be rain—there is always rain in this northern country of yours. no. you will do me the favor of sharing this cabin with me. there are two berths, as you see."

i looked gravely at the rude bunks built, one above the other, on the left wall, and bowed my acceptance of the offer.

"it is well," he continued. "my niece and her woman will share the middle room. there remains only the question of purchase."

"leave the bargaining to me," i said quickly, at sight of the shrewd-faced yankee who came down the wharf as we stepped out into the open prow.

"the affair is entirely in your hands, doctor," assented the señor.

the yankee stepped aboard with an air of brisk business.

"i cal'clate ye want a boat," he began. "let ye have this 'un dirt cheap."

"how much?" i demanded.

"one seventy-five."

"lumber cordelled by keelboat from new orleans?" i rallied him in smiling irony.

he looked me up and down with a speculative eye.

"we-ell, stranger, i might knock off ten dollars."

"you mean fifty."

again he surveyed me; then appraised the rich broadcloth of my companion.

"be ye buyin' fer him?" he queried.

"we make the trip together. i can go as high as a hundred and twenty-five. we could do better at pittsburg, but are willing to give you the bargain, to save our boots."

he looked again from my mud-smeared buckskins to the señor's fine apparel, and smiled sourly. "ye'll git no such boat at the price, here or at pittsburg, if ye wait till the next freeze. one fifty is my best offer. take it or leave it."

"skiff, kedge, sweeps, poles, and steer-oar included," i stipulated.

he assented, with well-feigned reluctance: "as she stands—lock, stock, and barrel."

i handed him a five-bit piece. "taken! yet i'd have had you down fifteen more if we were not in haste."

"i'd ha' eased your high-nosed don of a round two hundred, my lad, had he done his own dickering," muttered he, as, at a word from me, the señor drew out a bulging purse and counted into my palm the hundred and fifty dollars in american gold.