"To me the leadership of the scouts!" I cried. "I am doubly hot to take the road. Dawn shall see me in the saddle!" "The fire of youth!" he exclaimed, again clasping my hand. "Go, make your preparations. You will ride none the less swiftly that you carry a packet of letters for me." "Willingly!" "You think to go south to New Orleans?" I bowed. "Then a letter as well to Daniel Clark." "I am known to him." "True; but I have word to send him--no less to Wilkinson--regarding the death of Pitt." "It is months since that event," I remarked. "The Prime Minister died in January." "The post to Louisiana is uncertain. Wilkinson at least may not have heard, and I have comments to make. You will deliver the letters for me?" "I should be pleased to do so, sir. It is a small enough favor to undertake, even for a chance acquaintance." "But a favor that shall be remembered, doctor. Your lodging?" "The Plow Inn." "The packet shall be in your hands by evening," he replied. I rose at the words, and he showed me to the door, with repeated assurances of confidence and esteem. CHAPTER VII SHIP AND CREW The promised packet of letters was delivered to me at the Plow shortly after dark, by the man who had served coffee at the Colonel's. It was accompanied by a note in which Mr. Burr pleaded pressing business as an excuse for not delivering the packet in person. To this he had added a postscript empowering me to break the seal of the packet upon my arrival at St. Louis. It struck me as most odd that the packet should have been sealed at all. But upon reflection, I concluded that this was a very proper precaution against a chance inspection of the contents by prying busy-bodies who should happen to handle the packet. The letters might well contain statements open to misconstruction by the Colonel's numerous and powerful enemies, or details of plans, publicity of which, owing to the necessity of secrecy, might disconcert the progress of the great project. The instruction to me to open the packet upon my arrival prevented any questioning of the Colonel's confidence in myself. Thanks to a large hostler-fee, my horse came from the stable after his day of rest as fresh as when we left Washington, and hardened by the trip. He had need for all the endurance within his nature. Before dawn his hoofs were clattering across the great new bridge over the Schuylkill. In the dense night of the bridge's enclosed roof and sides, it was like riding through a hall of vast length, with no guidance other than the faint starlight at the far end. The thought struck me that this was apt symbol of my love-quest. The darkness was as the night of my lady's fathomless eyes, through which in the uncertain distance I could no more than fancy a dim starlight of hope.