"That's the no-torious Dan Holt, the wickedest
Irish loafer that ever 'listed in pay of them
cheatin' cowards, the Underground Railway
Abolition men," Gregg broke in with a vigorous
oath; "twice we've met, Dan Holt and I,
and twice the snake's got off with a whole
skin; but let me on'y get a grip, once more,
that's all!"

The marshal observed the disgust with
which I heard this ruffian's threats. He was
himself calm and resolute, but it was with him
a matter of duty, not a labour of love, to hunt
down slaves and their abettors. He therefore
briefly noted down my residence, the name of
the yacht, and the names of my crew, Bill
Bradstreet and Eli Cobb, and coaxed his rough ally
into the shore boat again. As the boathook
was pressed against the vessel's side, to push
off, the marshal seemed to remember something.

"Hold on a moment, mister!" cried he to the
waterman. "I say, Captain Pownall! I quite
forgot to ask—have you any company on
board?"

"Only one friend, Mr. Patrick Gartmore, a
naturalised American, here by invitation."

"None of them canting Quaker-cut venomous
abolitionists?" growled the man-hunter
from the stern-sheets.

"By no means," answered I, quite tickled
by the comparison of my sporting friend to a
Quaker; "Mr, Gartmore holds opinions very
much like yours on the subject of slavery. I
doubt if he thinks niggers have souls at all,
or are more than flesh and blood machines for
picking cotton and hoeing rice."

This was conclusive. The negro hunter
grinned; the marshal bade the waterman "give
way;" and off went my unwelcome visitors
shoreward.

"But where is Mr. Gartmore?" I asked in
some surprise, as old Bill, who was steward
and cook as well as foremast man, bustled by
with hot coffee and waffle cakes. Indeed my
guest was habitually an early riser. He had
never been so slow to appear on deck before.
The old sailor said Mr. Gartmore had a bad
headache. He had sent me his compliments,
and should join me presently if he felt well
enough to get up.

"Nothing serious, Bill, I hope? No signs
of fever? " I asked in some alarm.

Bill said, "No, not as he knowed on. The
gen'leman said perhaps the punch last night had
been brewed too strong, but afore noon he'd be
as right as a trivet."

"Very well, Bill; when breakfast's over, we'll
weigh, and stand out."

The punch; very odd! It had been, to my
fancy, a very moderately potent brewage, and
I had noticed that my guest's head was a
strong and cool one. But the ice, the ice
which in that sultry climate turned liquor into
nectar, perhaps that made a difference. Well!
We weighed and stood out for the eastward.
The shore lessened from view, and on deck came
Mr. Gartmore, apologising for the late hours he
had kept, and looking remarkably well in health.

The coffee, he said, how splendaciously my
steward made it! had swept the cobwebs
out of his brain. His headache was all but
gone.

He was very cheerful and chatty, and laughed
heartily as I recounted the visit I had received
that morning, and as I described the threatening
aspect of the formidable Joshua Gregg.

"One of those men, sir, who resemble na-tive
gold, rough-hewn from the mine; " said he,
eulogistically; "I have read of that energetic
citizen, sir, in the New Orleens Picayane and
other papers. He is unpolished, but such are
Columbia's props."

"Every man to his taste, Gartmore," said
I; "for my part, I had rather come down with
a crash, were I a country, than rest on such
precious pillars as your amiable fellow-citizen."

Gartmore laughed with perfect good nature.
He was as blithe as a bird, all day. We
were once becalmed, but a friendly breeze came
to ruffle the lake, and we ran down to Buffalo,
and dropped anchor at moon-rise. We spent the
greater part of the next day in rambling about
the city, and I afterwards remembered that
Gartmore left me deeply engaged in a match
at billiards, slipped out, and did not return
for more than two hours. In fact, as I left
the billiard-room to go on board, he came up
and passed his arm through mine.

"I have taken a great liberty, Pownall, my
dear boy," said he; "I have ventured to give
a sort of half promise to an old friend, that you
would give a pleasure-trip to him and his wife
along the summer lake. Will you, like a
hospitable good fellow?"

"To be sure. Any friend of yours!"

"Ah! " said Gartmore, " there is the individual,
just across the street, looking into that dry
goods store. He's too short-sighted to make us
out, so we'll go over, and I'll introduce you.
He's a man of high principles, and his wife is a
most accomplished matron." So saying, Gartmore
half dragged me to the opposite pavement,
where his friend stood, and nudged the latter's
elbow.

"Well met, again, Kinder! This is my kind
host. Professor Kinder, Captain Pownall. I
have been mentioning the whim of your respected
lady, Kinder. Poor Mrs. K. is a sad invalid,
though a charming person, Pownall."

An odd-looking man the professor! I could
not doubt his being short-sighted, for he not
only wore spectacles, but blinked like an owl in
the daylight. He was short of stature, but a
wiry man in make, and appeared to be neither
young nor old, with a very palpable wig, a sallow
complexion, and high cheek-bones. He wore
the regular civilian costume of tail-coat, black
satin vest, long cravat, ill-made pantaloons, and
dusty varnished boots. And so Mrs. Kinder
was an invalid, poor soul? Dear me, my yacht
was never intended for sufferers of the fair sex!
A party of merry Canadian girls would have
been all very well, used as they are to rough it
in all manner of holiday expeditions; but I
rather shuddered at the idea of a dieaway