"Yes?" "The lady----" "Does not return with us, sir." The captain stepped back and signed to his men. Of these there were ten--all big, bearded men who kept silent for the whole trip, though Duval tried to converse with them more than once. Nor did any address Norton after he was aboard. Save for the captain's orders, the trip was made in silence. When they were rowing past the bluff behind which Red Hugh dwelt, Norton searched the woods in vain for any sign of his friends, and caught Duval's eye roving over the bluff as well. Buck Creek and Salt River were passed without stoppage, and when Norton offered to pay his passage, he was informed that it has been paid; Duval, a little later, was taxed a dollar, which he paid promptly. At length Sullivan's ferry swept by and Shippingsport hove in sight ahead. Norton knew nothing of what had been going on in his absence, but there were a large number of craft, both keel and flatboats, in the Louisville harbour, while loading of freight was proceeding busily. The skiff rowed in through the vessels to a wharf, and Norton saw a small figure in scarlet breeches and fustian greatcoat waiting for their landing. He leaped out with a cry of joy, and greeted Elisha Ayres with a strong grip of the hand. The little schoolmaster straightened his greasy wig, and turned to meet Duval with a low bow. "Your servant, Mr. Duval!" he said, in his dry precise manner. The lawyer bowed slightly, fastened his cold gaze on the pinched, twinkling-eyed face of Ayres, and passed on without speaking. With a chuckle, Ayres passed his arm under Norton's and turned. "Come, Mr. Norton. Do not talk, if you please." In no little wonder, Norton accommodated his step to that of the other, and they walked through the little town toward Louisville. Ayres placed no ban of silence upon his own tongue, however; he chattered volubly, pointed out various objects of interest, and paused at the top of the hill to turn Norton toward the harbour. "Just to our right, Mr. Norton, is the Berthoud rope-walk--one of the finest, I may say, in the United States. There is Mr. Berthoud's residence just beyond us. Now from here we get a truly remarkable view of the shipping; you will observe that a half-dozen keels are being laden for New Orleans, under command of Commodore Peters. The outside craft is the gunboat of Captain Nevitt, which carries a small cannon. To the left you will see Captain Brookfield's horse-boat--a most ingenious contrivance, sir."