"Where is that?"

"At the old fort; follow the crowd, and you'll not go astray. Have you a
ticket?"

"Captain André honored me with one this morning."

"Then you are good for the first row. Don't miss it, man," with
enthusiasm. "'T will be such a sight as has not been witnessed since the
Field of the Cloth of Gold."

"A passage at arms, you mean?"

"Ay! as gorgeous as those of the old-time knights; a fair conceit as I
read the programme. I'd be there now but for the damned orders that hold
me here. If you ride hard you can make the spot before they come ashore."

There was no reason I should not go, and much in the glittering prospect
appealed to me. Five minutes later I was trotting out of the Yager camp,
pressing passage through the crowds, already headed southward, the
dragoon riding silently at my heels. Mounted men that day were few, and,
doubtless believing we were connected with the pageant, the jam sullenly
parted, and gave us opening, so we reached the site of the old fort as
the barges began discharging their occupants. A glance about, however,
convinced me as to where the lists were to be run, and I headed my horse
in that direction, anxious to gain some point of vantage, before the
throng poured in. Yet, Heaven knows, there were enough present even then,
the green sward overrun, and the few stands crowded. Quite a considerable
space, leading back from the river landing, had been roped off, and Light