kings,
The final stage, where time shall introduce
Renowned characters and glorious works.'"

Flattered to hear his own verse recited by the ex-Vice-president, the
judge returned a quick response:

"It is seldom that a poet lives to hear his own prophecies fulfilled.
The 'renowned characters' are entering upon the stage; I dare say the
'glorious works' will be accomplished according to prophecy."

The conversation returned to general themes: prospects of trade,
routes of migration, growth of western towns, literature, and
education. A passing comment on the recent purchase and organization
of Louisiana led Colonel Neville to ask:

"When did you last see your former comrade-in-arms, General
Wilkinson?"

"Not lately. I thought I might meet him here in Pittsburg. Is he not
due here?"

"Yes, he is on the way from Philadelphia, but he travels with his
family, and is liable to many detentions. His barge lies at the wharf,
to convey him to Fort Massac."

"So I learn," said Burr. "I fear I shall miss him. He is a jovial
companion."

"A bon-vivant," ejaculated the Judge. "Few men enjoy a convivial
occasion with his gusto, or have the constitution to indulge as he
does. Gossip charges him with living beyond his purse. Some
ill-natured rumors assert that he allows the rites of Bacchus to
interfere with the duties of Mars."

"Bacchus is a gross and vicious god. But your gossips traduce
Wilkinson. He is a brave man and a fine officer," said Burr with an
emphasis of finality.

"O undoubtedly! Apropos of the wine-god, Colonel Burr, do not fail to
tie up your boat at Bacchus Island, you and Mr. Arlington, and call on
my friends the Blennerhassetts. Harman Blennerhassett is an agreeable
man, though peculiar, and his wife is charming."

"A fine woman, is she?" responded Burr.

"Both beautiful and opulent. A sultana, sir!"

"Then, gentlemen," said Burr, rising with glass in hand, "let us do
ourselves the honor of drinking the health of Madam Blennerhassett."

When, at six o'clock in the evening, the travellers went down to the
boat, not a soul did they find on board. Seven o'clock came, but no
Captain Pierce, no minion of his. Burr made inquiry of the agent, the
tavern-keeper and others, without obtaining information concerning any
of the missing men.

Much incensed, he and Arlington were compelled to lodge another night
in the best bedchamber of the Green Tree.

III. PILLARS OF SMOKE.

On the morn