d, but he had not dragged me twice the length of the
esplanade ere his eye was caught by a young lady in pink who sauntered
between an elderly gentleman in black silk and a young man more gayly
dressed.

"Egad," said Nick, "there is my divinity, and I need not look a step
farther."

I laughed.

"You have but to choose, I suppose, and all falls your way," I answered.

"But look!" he cried, halting me to stare after the girl, "what a face,
and what a form! And what a carriage, by Jove! There is breeding for
you! And Davy, did you mark the gentle, rounded arm? Thank heaven these
short sleeves are the fashion."

"You are mad, Nick," I answered, pulling him on, "these people are not to
be stared at so. And once I present our letters to Monsieur de
Saint-Gre, it will not be difficult to know any of them."

"Look!" said he, "that young man, lover or husband, is a brute. On my
soul, they are quarrelling."

The three had stopped by a bench under a tree. The young man, who wore
claret silk and a sword, had one of those thin faces of dirty complexion
which show the ravages of dissipation, and he was talking with a rapidity
and vehemence of which only a Latin tongue will admit. We could see,
likewise, that the girl was answering with spirit,--indeed, I should
write a stronger word than spirit,--while the elderly gentleman, who had
a good-humored, fleshy face and figure, was plainly doing his best to
calm them both. People who were passing stared curiously at the three.

"Your divinity evidently has a temper," I remarked.

"For that scoundel--certainly," said Nick; "but come, they are moving
on."

"You mean to follow them?" I exclaimed.

"Why not?" said he. "We will find out where they live and who they are,
at least."

"And you have taken a fancy to this girl?"

"I have looked them all over, and she's by far the best I've seen. I can
say so much honestly."

"But she may be married," I said weakly.

"Tut, Davy," he answered, "it's more than likely, from the violence of
their quarrel. But if so, we will try again."

"We!" I exclaimed.

"Oh, come on!" he cried, dragging me by the sleeve, "or we shall lose
them."

I resisted no longer, but followed him down the levee, in my heart
thanking heaven that he had not taken a fancy to an octoroon. Twilight
had set in strongly, the gay crowd was beginning to disperse, and in the
distance the three figures could be seen making their way across the
Place d'Armes, the gir