"It was the answer I'd make to any man's challenge." "You are not afraid, then," and the eyes of the uncle devoured him, "of being thought a coward?" Anthony smiled. "The man who is afraid of being thought one, is one," said he. "By God!" said Charles. "That's what your grandfather would have said! They are the very words." Here Captain Weir was shown in, and after greeting Anthony he sat down at the far end of the room with the merchant, while Anthony talked with Dr. King. "Well," said the physician humorously, "he seems to approve your doings, even though they've been a trifle heady." "At any rate," said the young man, "he is no friend of Tarrant's; and that is in my favor." Dr. King lost his jocular expression, and shook his head gravely. "The time was when the American merchant had only the elements, falling markets, and an occasional corsair to contend with," said he. "But, now that he is growing prosperous and takes his share of the world's wealth, the birds of prey have gathered. Let him show a sign, however slight, of financial weakness; then his sky is dark with them, their beaks whetted to pick his bones. This is the first hint I've had that Tarrant is concerned with the filthy tribe; but I shouldn't wonder if it were true." "I can understand money-lenders and note-shavers thriving in a port like New Orleans," said Anthony; "for under the hands of the Spanish governors honesty must always pay a toll. But in a city as well managed as this, where banks are numerous, why should a merchant in need of funds go to a usurer?" Dr. King smiled and shook his head. "After you are here a while,--if you make up your mind to stay,--you may learn that even a soberly governed place like this has its public tricksters. There are many things a money-lender dare not do--openly. But it is the habit of some of them--as your uncle just now said of Tarrant--to carry on certain operations underground." The dining-room of Charles Stevens on the floor below was appointed with the same high-pitched taste as the others Anthony had seen; indeed, so lavish had become the exhibition of treasure that it resembled the heaped-up loot of a commercial conqueror. "Every ship of ours that enters port carries something that I cannot find it in me to sell. It may be a rug, or a gold cup, a cushion, a bolt of rare silk, or an ivory or bronze carving. I have amulets and arms and precious stones from places that are in the books of few traders," added Charles, who had read his nephew's look. "Unfortunately," and he laughed a little ruefully, "I am a collector, as well as a merchant." There was a soup of terrapin, into which a deft cook had introduced the faint fragrance of a very old sherry. Sturgeon steaks followed, with a wonderful sauce, and with them deviled oysters and a Johannisberger that made Anthony's palate curl in rapture.