"Come, sir"—and Norton felt Ayres pluck his arm. "They will lodge the two men in jail, but we must not be detained as witnesses."
In a flash the real meaning of the scene broke upon the Louisianian, and with a grunt he strode off beside Ayres. Something most amazing must have happened in the city of Louisville, he thought. A week previously, mention of Blacknose had been enough to get a man his death; now, two members of the mysterious gang were openly assaulted in the streets! His last view of the combat, through the gathering crowd, showed one of the farmers perched on the body of a riverman and industriously gouging for the eyes of his enemy in true border fashion.
Five minutes later Norton found himself led toward a good-sized brick house which stood back from the street amid spacious gardens. This, announced Ayres, belonged to Mr. Tarascon, a prominent merchant, who expected Norton as his guest. Comprehending dimly that the schoolmaster must have moved with tremendous activity in his absence, the Louisianian strode up the steps to be greeted quietly by a small elderly Frenchman—no other than the owner of the place. He was unmarried, it appeared, and when Norton addressed him in his own tongue, he cried effusively that the house no longer belonged to him but to his honoured guest. Moreover, the words were quite sincere.
The afternoon being practically over, Tarascon and Ayres accompanied Norton to his room—a spacious bedroom on the ground floor, and there left him with a darkie to attend his personal wants, and a great variety of clothes to choose from. With a sigh of relief, Norton bathed and discarded his buckskin for a plum-coloured suit; he was a gentleman once more in place of a woods rover; and when he inspected the cravat which the grinning darkie had adjusted, he could scarce believe that at daybreak he had been sitting in a canoe with an acknowledged Indian-slayer, rifle in hand. The day was far from done, however. When he was dressed, the negro ted him through a dark corridor to two rooms blazing with candles: one a dining-room of gigantic size, the other an equally large music-room. Still blinking at the lights, Norton found his hand gripped by Audubon and then perceived that he had come into a gathering of men.
"Gentlemen, Captain John Norton!" announced Mr. Tarascon, and turned, smiling. "Perhaps you had best introduce our friends piecemeal, Mr. Audubon!"
A dozen men were present—Colonel Taylor, Rosier, Ayres, and others of the Louisville merchants to whom Audubon introduced the Louisianian. Colonel Boone had returned home to Missouri, while Norton found that his friend, Zach Taylor, had been ordered to Vincennes to join General Harrison; barely had he been made acquainted with all there, however, when Colonel Taylor rose and with a gesture obtained silence.
"Mr. Norton"—and it was easy to see that the old border fighter felt bitterly the shame of his words—"when you were here last, this town was in a peculiar state, sir. As you are only too well aware, the very name of Blacknose spread terror; men were murdered and property destroyed almost with impunity; the secrecy of this gang of river-pirates and its thorough organization seemed to hold us all spellbound. I acknowledge it with shame, sir. Then, with your coming, all this was changed."
As Colonel Dick paused, Norton felt himself the centre of attention. He was himself too interested in what was coming to heed this, however, and merely nodded.
"You had barely arrived, Mr. Norton, when an attempt was made upon your life; a few hours later you were accused of a dastardly murder and only the quick wit of Mr. Ayres threw the pursuers from your track. We had given you up for lost, sir, when Mr. Audubon returned to town and at once communicated with Mr. Ayres. The result, you see here."
"I fancy I have seen the results before this," smiled Norton drily, and told of the encounter he had witnessed in town. A quick nod passed around.