was smooth-faced,
and his fresh skin and well-developed figure bespoke the man in
good physical condition through active exercise, yet well content
with the world's apportionment. His limbs were long, his hands
bony and strong. His air, of self-confident assurance, seemed that
of a man well used to having his own way. His forehead was high
and somewhat rugged. Indeed, all his features were in large mold,
like the man himself, as though he had come from a day when skin
garments made the proper garb of men. As though to keep up this
air of an older age, his long fair hair was cut almost square, low
down on the neck, as though he were some Frank fresh from the
ancient forests. Over the forehead also this square cut was
affected, so that, as he stood, large and confident, not quite
_outre_, scarce eccentric, certainly distinguished in appearance,
he had a half-savage look, as though ignorant or scornful of the
tenderer ways of civilization. A leader this man might be, a poor
follower always.

Yet the first words he uttered showed the voice and diction of a
gentleman. "My dear Captain," he began, extending his hand as he
approached, "I am indeed charmed! What a delight to see you again
in our part of the world! I must claim the pleasure of having met
you once--two years ago, in St. Louis. Are you again on your way
to the frontiers?"

The tone of inquiry in his voice was just short of curious, indeed
might have been called expectant. His gaze, admiring yet polite,
had not wholly lost opportunity to list the attractions of this
lady, whose name had not yet been given him.

The gentleman accosted declined to be thus definite; adding only,
after the usual felicitations, "Yes, we are going down the river a
little way on the Vernon here."

"For some distance?"

"For quite a distance."

"At least, this is not your first journey down our river?"

"I wish it might be the last. The railway is opening up a new
world to us. The stage-coach is a thing of the past."

"I wish it might be, for me!" rejoined the stranger.
"Unfortunately, I am obliged to go West from here over the National
Road, to look at some lands I own out in Indiana. I very much
regret--"

There was by this time yet more expectancy in his voice. He still
bowed, with respectful glances bent upon the lady. No presentation
came, although in the easy habit of the place and time, such
courtesy might perhaps have been expected. Why this stiffne