Burr marked him, talked to him, walked with him,
took him a day or two's voyage in his flat-boat, and, in short,
fascinated him. For the next year, barrack-life was very tame to poor
Nolan. He occasionally availed of the permission the great man had given
him to write to him. Long, high-worded, stilted letters the poor boy
wrote and rewrote and copied. But never a line did he have in reply from
the gay deceiver. The other boys in the garrison sneered at him, because
he sacrificed in this unrequited affection for a politician the time
which they devoted to Monongahela, sledge, and high-low-jack. Bourbon,
euchre, and poker were still unknown. But one day Nolan had his revenge.
This time Burr came down the river, not as an attorney seeking a place
for his office, but as a disguised conqueror. He had defeated I know not
how many district-attorneys; he had dined at I know not how many public
dinners; he had been heralded in I know not how many Weekly Arguses; and
it was rumored that he had an army behind him and an empire before him.
It was a great day--his arrival--to poor Nolan. Burr had not been at the
fort an hour before he sent for him.
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