For a while he did
not speak, but busied himself with his papers, I having lighted the
candles for him. Presently he spoke my name, and I stood before him.
"I will give you a piece of advice, Davy," said he. "If you want a
thing, go straight to the man that has it. McChesney has spoken to me
about this wild notion of yours of going to Vincennes, and Cowan and
McCann and Ray and a dozen others have dogged my footsteps."
"I only spoke to Terence because he asked me, sir," I answered. "I said
nothing to any one else."
He laid down his pen and looked at me with an odd expression.
"What a weird little piece you are," he exclaimed; "you seem to have
wormed your way into the hearts of these men. Do you know that you will
probably never get to Vincennes alive?"
"I don't care, sir," I said. A happy thought struck me. "If they see a
boy going through the water, sir--" I hesitated, abashed.
"What then?" said Clark, shortly.
"It may keep some from going back," I finished.
At that he gave a sort of gasp, and stared at me the more.
"Egad," he said, "I believe the good Lord launched you wrong end to.
Perchance you will be a child when you are fifty."
He was silent a long time, and fell to musing. And I thought he had
forgotten.
"May I go, sir?" I asked at length.
He started.
"Come here," said he.
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