Is he not going with you to
New Orleans, St. Gre?"
I took up the name involuntarily.
"Captain Temple," I repeated, while they stared at me. "Nicholas
Temple?"
It was Auguste de St. Gre who replied.
"The sem," he said. "I recall he was along with you in Nouvelle Orleans.
He is at ze tavern, and he has had one gran' fight, and he is ver'--I am
sorry--intoxicate--"
I know not how I made my way through the black woods to Fort Finney,
where I discovered Jake Landrasse and his canoe. The road was long, and
yet short, for my brain whirled with the expectation of seeing Nick
again, and the thought of this poor, pathetic, ludicrous expedition
compared to the sublime one I had known.
George Rogers Clark had come to this!
CHAPTER III
LOUISVILLE CELEBRATES
"They have gran' time in Louisville to-night, Davy," said Jake Landrasse,
as he paddled me towards the Kentucky shore; "you hear?"
"I should be stone deaf if I didn't," I answered, for the shouting which
came from the town filled me with forebodings.
"They come back from the barbecue full of whiskey," said Jake, "and a
young man at the tavern come out on the porch and he say, 'Get ready you
all to go to Louisiana! You been hole back long enough by tyranny.' Sam
Barker come along and say he a Federalist. They done have a gran' fight,
he and the young feller, and Sam got licked.
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