"Young man," said an elderly American, "you are in Louisiana state, and see before you citizens of the United States of America. That man there"--he pointed to green-coat--"is the constable. Jokin' is out of place here." "I come from on board my ship, if you must know." "From on board his ship!" repeated every body, and every brow visibly knit, and a low murmur ran through the crowd. The news of the landing of British troops had just reached the town, and the same courier had brought the unwelcome intelligence of the capture of the American gunboats on the Mississippi. Trifling as this disaster was, compared with the brilliant victories achieved on Lakes Champlain and Erie, and on the ocean, at every meeting, by American ships over British, it had, nevertheless, produced a general feeling of exasperation. The constable stepped aside with several other men, and talked with them in a low voice. When they returned, and again surrounded the Englishman, their conference had produced a marked change in their manner. Their rough familiarity and friendly inquisitiveness had given place to a repulsive coldness; the humorous cheerfulness of their countenances was exchanged for a proud, cold earnestness, and they measured Hodges with keen distrustful glances. "Stranger," said the constable, in a tone of command, "you are a suspicious person, and must follow me." "And who may you be, who take upon yourself to show me the way?" demanded the midshipman. "You have already heard who I am. These men are citizens of the United States, presently at war with your country, as you probably know." The green-clad functionary spoke these words with a certain emphasis, and even dignity, which caused the young man to look with rather less disdain at his shining beaver-hat, and verdant inexpressibles. "I am ready to follow," said he; "but I trust I am in safety amongst you." "That you will soon see," replied the constable, dryly. And so saying, he, his prisoner, and the crowd, set off in the direction of the town.