His forebodings were drowned in Oporto, however. Next morning the four again gathered at breakfast, after which all mounted and rode through town toward Shippingsport to see Norton off. It was early, and few people were astir, for Brookfield was making a swift trip to Henderson and wanted to make the most of the day. As they passed the "Steuben Arms," Norton sent a casual glance at the place; then he reined in suddenly.
His quick eye had caught sight of a negro just emerging on the courtyard, a wicker cage in his hand. With a sudden thrill of excitement, he spurred from the road and clattered down on the startled slave. The cage held a pigeon.
"Give me that bird, boy," he said, leaning over.
"Dishyer bird b' longs to Mr. Duval, suh"—and the darkie drew back. The other three had followed Norton, however, and hemmed in the slave so that his escape to the doorway behind was cut off.
"Watch him, Audubon!" cried Norton.
Without further parley he leaned down and grasped the cage from the shrinking negro. Opening it eagerly, he found a tiny slip of paper under the bird's wing, and carefully loosened it.
A glance around showed him three saddled horses to one side, and he knew they had been just in time. Then, unfolding the paper, he read the message written thereon. It was unsigned.
A.G.—
Meet me as planned. B's boat leaves to-day. Have arranged all satisfactorily. Norton goes with boat.
Silently he passed the note to Ayres, and the others crowded together over it, while the negro watched in affright. Ayres looked up.
"It is Duval's hand," he said, his voice quivering with excitement. "What's to be done?"