"A citizen of the world, like Monsieur Vigo," I answered at a hazard.

"Pardieu!" said Monsieur Gratiot, "you are not far away. Like Monsieur
Vigo I keep a store here at Cahokia. Like Monsieur Vigo, I have
travelled much in my day. Do you know where Switzerland is, Davy?"

I did not.

"It is a country set like a cluster of jewels in the heart of Europe,"
said Monsieur Gratiot, "and there are mountains there that rise among the
clouds and are covered with perpetual snows. And when the sun sets on
those snows they are rubies, and the skies above them sapphire."

"I was born amongst the mountains, sir," I answered, my pulse quickening
at his description, "but they were not so high as those you speak of."

"Then," said Monsieur Gratiot, "you can understand a little my sorrow as
a lad when I left it. From Switzerland I went to a foggy place called
London, and thence I crossed the ocean to the solemn forests of the north
of Canada, where I was many years, learning the characters of these
gentlemen who are looking in upon us." And he waved his arm at the line
of peering red faces by the pickets. Monsieur Gratiot smiled at Clark.
"And there's another point of resemblance between myself and Monsieur
Vigo."

"Have you taken the paper money?" I demanded.

Monsieur Gratiot slapped his linen breeches. "That I have," and this
time I thought he was going to laugh. But he did not, though his eyes
sparkled. "And do you think that the good Congress will ever repay me,