[Illustration: Elsin Grey. ]

_The_

RECKONING

BY

ROBERT W. CHAMBERS

AUTHOR OF "CARDIGAN, " "THE MAID-AT-ARMS, " "THE KING IN YELLOW, " ETC. 

NEW YORKA. WESSELS COMPANY1907

Copyright, 1905, byROBERT W. CHAMBERS

_Published September, 1905_

PRESS OFBRAUNWORTH & CO. BOOKBINDERS AND PRINTERSBROOKLYN, N. Y. 

PREFACE

The author's intention is to treat, in a series of four or fiveromances, that part of the war for independence which particularlyaffected the great landed families of northern New York: the Johnsons, represented by Sir William, Sir John, Guy Johnson, and Colonel Claus;the notorious Butlers, father and son; the Schuylers, Van Rensselaers, and others. 

The first romance of the series, Cardigan, was followed by the second, The Maid-at-Arms. The third in order is not completed. The fourth is thepresent volume. 

As Cardigan pretended to portray life on the baronial estate of SirWilliam Johnson, the first uneasiness concerning the coming trouble, thefirst discordant note struck in the harmonious councils of the LongHouse, so, in The Maid-at-Arms, which followed in order, the authorattempted to paint a patroon family disturbed by the approaching rumbleof battle. That romance dealt with the first serious split in theIroquois Confederacy; it showed the Long House shattered though notfallen; the demoralization and final flight of the great landed familieswho remained loyal to the British Crown; and it struck the key-note tothe future attitude of the Iroquois toward the patriots of thefrontier--revenge for their losses at the battle of Oriskany--and endedwith the march of the militia and Continental troops on Saratoga. 

The third romance, as yet incomplete and unpublished, deals with thewar-path and those who followed it, led by the landed gentry of TryonCounty, and ends with the first solid blow delivered at the Long House, and the terrible punishment of the Great Confederacy. 

The present romance, the fourth in chronological order, picks up thethread at that point. 

The author is not conscious of having taken any liberties with historyin preparing a framework of facts for a mantle of romance. 

ROBERT W. CHAMBERS. 

NEW YORK, _May 26, 1904_. 

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

 I. --THE SPY 1

 II. --THE HOUSEHOLD 24

 III. --THE COQ D'OR 44

 IV. --SUNSET AND DARK 67

 V. --THE ARTILLERY BALL 97

 VI. --A NIGHT AND A MORNING 127

 VII. --THE BLUE FOX 164

VIII. --DESTINY 188

 IX. --INTO THE NORTH 212

 X. --SERMONS IN STONES 239

 XI. --THE TEST 266

 XII. --THENDARA 289

XIII. --THENDARA NO MORE 313

 XIV. --THE BATTLE OF JOHNSTOWN 336

 XV. --BUTLER'S FORD 366

TO MY FRIEND

J. HAMBLEN SEARS

WHOSE UNSELFISH FRIENDSHIP AND SOUND ADVICE

I ACKNOWLEDGE IN THIS

DEDICATION

 I

 _His muscle to the ax and plow, His calm eye to the rifle sight, Or at his country's beck and bow, Setting the fiery cross alight, Or, in the city's pageantry, Serving the Cause in secrecy, -- Behold him now, haranguing kings While through the shallow court there rings The light laugh of the courtezan; This the New Yorker, this the Man!_

 II

 _Standing upon his blackened land, He saw the flames mount up to God, He saw the death tracks in the sand, And the dead children on the sod, He saw the half-charred door, unbarred, The dying hound he left on guard, And that still thing he once had wed Sprawled on the threshold dripping red: Dry-eyed he primed his rifle pan; This the New Yorker, this the Man!_

 III

 He plowed the graveyard of his dead And sowed the grain to feed a host; In silent lands untenanted Save by the Sachems' painted ghost He set the ensign of the sun; A thousand axes rang as one In the black forest's falling roar, And through the glade the plowshare tore Like God's own blade in Freedom's van; This the New Yorker, and the Man!

R. W. C. 

PROLOGUE

ECHOES OF YESTERDAY

His Excellency's system of intelligence in the City of New York I neverpretended to comprehend. That I was one of many agents I could have nodoubt; yet as long as I remained there I never knew but three or fourestablished spies with residence in town. Although I had no illusionsconcerning Mr. Gaine and his "Gazette, " at intervals I violentlysuspected Mr. Rivington of friendliness to us, and this in spite of hisTory newspaper and the fierce broadsides he fired at rebels andrebellion. But I must confess that in my long and amiable acquaintancewith the gentleman he never, by word or hint or inference, so much asby the quiver of an eyelash, corroborated my suspicion, and to this dayI do not know whether or not Mr. Rivington furnished secret informationto his Excellency while publicly in print he raged and sneered. 

Itinerant spies were always in the city in spite of the deadly watchkept up by regular and partizan, and sometimes they bore messages forme, the words "Pro Gloria" establishing their credentials as well asmine. They entered the city in all guises and under all pretexts, someas refugees, some as traitors, some wearing the uniform of Torypartizan corps, others attired as tradesmen, farmers, fishermen, andoften bearing passes, too, though where they contrived to find passes Inever understood. 

It was a time of sullenness and quick suspicion; few were free fromdoubt, but of those few I made one--until that day when my enemyarrived--but of that in its place, for now I mean to say a word aboutthis city that I love--that we all love, understanding how alone shestood in seven years' chains, yet dauntless, dangerous, and defiant. 

For upon New York fell the brunt of British wrath, and the judgment ofGod fell, too, passing twice in fire that laid one-quarter of the townin cinders. Nor was that enough, for His lightning smote thepowder-ship, the _Morning Star_, where she swung at her moorings offfrom Burling Slip, and the very sky seemed falling in the thunder thatshook the shoreward houses into ruins. 

I think that, take it all in all, New York met and withstood everyseparate horror that war can bring, save actual assault and sack. Greater hardships fell to the lot of no other city in America, for welost more than a half of our population, more than a fourth of the cityby the two great fires. Want, with the rich, meant famine for the poorand sad privation for the well-to-do; smallpox and typhus swept us;commerce by water died, and slowly our loneliness became a maddeningisolation, when his Excellency flung out his blue dragoons to the veryedges of the river there at Harlem Bridge. 

I often think it strange that New York town remained so loyal to thecause, for loyalty to the king was inherent among the better classes. Many had vast estates, farms, acres on acres of game parks, and livedlike the landed gentry of old England. Yet, save for the DeLanceys, theCrugers, their kinsmen, the Fannings, kin to the Tryons, FrederickRhinelander, the Waltons, and others too tedious to mention, thegentlemen who had the most to lose through friendliness to the cause ofliberty, chose to espouse that cause. 

As for the British residents there, they remained in blameless loyaltyto their King, and I, for one, have never said one word to cast a doubtupon the purity of their sentiments. 

But with all this, knowing what must come, no other city in America sogaily set forth upon the road to ruin as did patriotic New York. Andfrom that dreadful hour when, through the cannon smoke on BrooklynHeights, she beheld the ghastly face of ruin leering at her across thefoggy water--from that heart-breaking hour when the British drumsrolled from the east, and the tall war-ships covered themselves withsmoke, and the last flag flying was hacked from the halyards, and thetramp of the grenadiers awoke the silence of Broadway, she neverfaltered in her allegiance, never doubted, never failed throughoutthose seven years the while she lay beneath the British heel, arattlesnake, stunned only, but deadly still while the last spark oflife remained. 

Were I to tell a tithe of all I know of what took place during thegreat siege, the incidents might shame the wildest fancies ofromance--how intrigue swayed with intrigue there, struggling hilt tohilt; how plot and plot were thwarted by the counterplot; how all trustin man was destroyed in that dark year that Arnold died, and a fiendtook his fair shape to scandalize two hemispheres!

Yet I am living witness of those years. I heard and saw much that Ishall not now revive, as where the victims of a pest lie buried it isnot wise to dig, lest the unseen be loosened once again. Yet somethingit may be well to record of that time--the curtain lifted for aglimpse, then dropped in silence--to teach our children that the menwho stood against their King stood with hope of no reward save liberty, but faced the tempest that they had unchained with souls self-shrivenand each heart washed free of selfishness. 

So if I speak of prisons where our thousands died--hind and gentlemanpiled thick as shad in the fly market--sick and well and wounded alltogether--it shall not be at length, only a scene or two that sticks inmemory. 

Once, in the suffocating heat of mid-July, I saw a prison where everynarrow window was filled with human heads, face above face, seeking aportion of the external air. And from that day, for many, many weeksthe dead-carts took the corpses to the outer ditches, passing steadilyfrom dawn to midnight. 

All day, all night, they died around us in ship and prison, some fromsuffocation, some from starvation, others delivered by prison feverswhich rotted them so slowly that I think even death shrank backreluctant to touch them with his icy finger. 

So piteous their plight, these crowded thousands, crushed in putridmasses, clinging to the filthy prison bars, that they arousedcompassion in that strange and ancient guild that once had claimed theMagdalen in its sad sisterhood, and these aided them with food, yearafter year, until deliverance. 

They had no other food, no water except from polluted drains, no firein winter, no barriers to the blackest cold that ever seared the cityfrom the times that man remembers. I say they had no other food and nofire to cook the offal flung to them. That is not all true, because wedid our best, being permitted to furnish what we had--we and thestrange sisterhood--yet they were thousands upon thousands, and we werefew. 

It is best that I say no more, for that proud England's sake from whoseloins we sprang--it is best that I speak not of Captain Cunningham theProvost, nor of his deputy, O'Keefe, nor of Sproat and Loring. Therewas butchers' work in my own North, and I shall not shrink from thetelling; there was massacre, and scalps taken from children too smallto lisp their prayers for mercy; that was devils' work, and may betold. But Cunningham and those who served him were alone in their awfultrade; cruelty unspeakable and frenzied vice are terms which fallimpotent to measure the ghastly depths of an infamy in which theycrawled and squirmed, battening like maggots on hell's own pollution. 

Long since, I think, we have clasped hands with England over CherryValley and Wyoming, forgiving her the loosened fury of her red alliesand her Butlers and McDonalds. The scar remains, but is remembered onlyas a glory. 

How shall we take old England's wrinkled hand, stretched out above thespots that mark the prisons of New York?--above the twelve thousandunnamed graves of those who died for lack of air and water aboard the_Jersey_? God knows; and yet all things are possible with Him--even thismiracle which I shall never live to see. 

Without malice, without prejudice, judging only as one whose judgmenterrs, I leave this darkened path for a free road in the open, and soshall strive to tell as simply and sincerely as I may what only befellmyself and those with whom I had been long associated. And if thepleasures that I now recall seem tinged with bitter, and if the gaietywas but a phase of that greater prison fever that burnt us all in thebeleaguered city, still there was much to live for in those timesthrough which I, among many, passed; and by God's mercy, not my ownendeavor, passed safely, soul and body. 

THE RECKONING

CHAPTER I

THE SPY

Having finished my duties in connection with Sir Peter's private estateand his voluminous correspondence--and the door of my chamber beingdoubly locked and bolted--I made free to attend to certain secretcorrespondence of my own, which for four years now had continued, without discovery, between the Military Intelligence Department of theContinental army and myself through the medium of one John Ennis, thetobacconist at the Sign of the Silver Box in Hanover Square. 

Made confident by long immunity from the slightest shadow of suspicion, apprehension of danger seldom troubled my sense of security. It didsometimes, as when the awful treason at West Point became known to me;and for weeks as I lay abed I thought to hear in every footfall onBroadway the measured tread of a patrol come to take me. Yet thetraitor continued in New York without sinister consequence to me; and, though my nights were none the pleasanter during that sad week whichended in the execution of the British adjutant-general, no harm came tome. Habit is the great sedative; at times, penning my spy's journal, Ismiled to remember how it was with me when first I came to New York in1777, four years since, a country lad of nineteen, fresh from thefrontier, where all my life had been spent among the Oneidas and thefew neighbors nearest Broadalbin Bush--a raw youth, frightened butresolved; and how I lived through those first months of mental terror, now appalled by the fate of our Captain Nathan Hale, now burning with ahigh purpose and buoyed up by pride that his Excellency should havefound in me a fit instrument for his designs. 

I have never known whether or not I am what men call brave, for Iunderstand fear and I turn cold at thought of death. Often I have satalone in the house watching the sober folk along Broadway and WallStreet, knowing all the while that these same good people mightto-morrow all go flocking to Catiemuts Hill near the Fresh Water, or tothat open space in the "Fields" between the jail and the Almshouse, tosee me on the gallows. If such thoughts do not assail the brave--ifrestless nights, wakeful dawns, dull days are not their portion--I mustown that all these were mine, not often, perhaps, but too frequent toflatter self-esteem. And, fight them as I might, it was useless; forsuch moments came without warning--often when I had been merry withfriends, at times when, lulled by long-continued security, I had nighforgotten through eventless months that there was a war and that I hadbecome a New Yorker only because of war. 

It was harder now, in one sense; four years as secretary to my kinsman, Sir Peter Coleville, had admitted me to those social intimacies sonecessary to my secret office; and, alas! friendships had been made andties formed not only in the line of duty, but from impulse and out ofpure affection. 

I had never found it was required of me to pose as a rabid loyalist, and so did not, being known as disinterested and indifferent, andperhaps for that reason not suspected. My friends were from necessityamong the best among the loyalists--from choice, too, for I liked themfor their own sakes, and it was against their cause I worked, notagainst them. 

It went hard with me to use them as I did--I so loathing perfidy inothers; yet if it be perfidy to continue in duty as I understood duty, then I practised it, and at times could scarce tolerate myself, whichwas a weakness, because in my own heart I knew that his Excellency couldset no man a task unworthy of his manhood. Yet it were pleasanter had myduties thrown me with the army, or with Colonel Willett in my nativenorth, whence, at his request, I had come to live a life of physicalsloth and mental intrigue under the British cannon of New York--here inthe household of Sir Peter Coleville, his secretary, his friend, hiswelcomed guest, the intimate of his family, his friends!--_that_ was thehardest of all; and though for months at a time I managed to forget it, the recurring thought of what I _was_, and what they believed me to be, stabbed me at intervals so I could scarce endure it. 

Nothing, not even the belief that God was with us, I fear, could haveheld me there when the stress of such emotion left me staring at thedarkness in my restless bed--only blind faith in his Excellency that hewould do no man this shame, if shame it was--that he knew as well as Ithat the land's salvation was not to be secured through the barter ofmen's honor and the death of souls. 

 * * * * *

The door being secured, as I say, and the heat of that July day abatingnothing, though the sun hung low over Staten Island, I opened mywindows, removed coat and waistcoat, and, drawing a table to thewindow, prepared to write up that portion of my daily journal neglectedlately, and which, when convenient opportunity offered, was to find itsway into the hands of Colonel Marinus Willett in Albany. Before I wroteI turned back a leaf or two so that I might correct my report in thelight of later events; and I read rapidly:

 _July 12, 1781. _--Nothing remarkable. Very warm weather, and a bad odor from the markets. There is some talk in the city of rebuilding the burned district. Two new cannon have been mounted in the southwest bastion of the fort (George). I shall report caliber and particulars later. 

 _July 13th. _--This day Sir Peter left to look over the lands in Westchester which he is, I believe, prepared to purchase from Mr. Rutgers. The soldiers are very idle; a dozen of 'em caught drawing a seine in the Collect, and sent to the guard-house--a dirty trick for anybody but Hessians, who are accustomed to fish in that manner. The cannon in the southwest bastion are twelve-pounders and old--trunnions rusted, carriages rotten. It seems they are trophies taken from the Carolina militia. 

 _July 14th. _--A ship arrived in the lower bay. Details later. In Nassau Street, about noon, a tall fellow, clothed like a drover, muttered a word or two as I passed, and I had gone on ere it struck me that he had meant his words for my ear. To find him I turned leisurely, retracing my steps as though I had forgotten something, and as I brushed him again, he muttered, "Thendara; tell me where it is. "

 At that moment Captain Enderley of the Fifty-fourth Foot greeted me, linking his arm in mine, and I had no excuse to avoid him. More of this to-night, when, if the message was truly for me, I shall doubtless be watched and followed when I leave the house for a stroll. 

 _July 15th. _--Last night there was no chance, Enderley and Captain O'Neil coming to take me to the theater, where the Thirty-eighth Regiment gave a frolic and a play--the latter most indifferent, save for Mrs. Barry's acting. I saw my drover in John Street, too, but could not speak to him. 

 This morning, however, I met the drover, and he was drunk, or made most marvelous pretense--a great six-foot, blue-eyed lout in smock and boots, reeking of Bull's Head gin, his drover's whip a-trail in the dust, and he a-swaggering down Nassau Street, gawking at the shop-windows and whistling Roslyn Castle with prodigious gusto. 

 I made it convenient to pause before Berry and Roger's show of jewels, and he stopped, too, swaying there gravely, balanced now on hobnail heel, now on toe. Presently he ceased his whistling of Roslyn Castle, and in a low but perfectly distinct voice he said, "Where is the town of Thendara, Mr. Renault?" Without looking at him or even turning my head, I answered, "Why do you ask me?"

 He stared stupidly at the show-window. "Pro patria et gloria, " he replied under his breath; "why do you serve the land?"

 "Pro gloria, " I muttered. "Give your message; hasten. "

 He scratched his curly head, staring at the gewgaws. "It is this, " he said coolly; "find out if there be a lost town in the north called Thendara, or if the name be used to mask the name of Fort Niagara. When you have learned all that is possible, walk some evening up Broadway and out along Great George Street. We will follow. "

 "Who else besides yourself?"

 "A brother drover--of men, " he said slyly; "a little wrinkled fellow, withered to the bone, wide-eared, mild-eyed. He is my running mate, sir, and we run sometimes, now this way, now that, but always at your service, Mr. Renault. "

 "Are you drunk, or is it a pretense?" I demanded. 

 "Not _too_ drunk, " he replied, with elaborate emphasis. "But once this matter of Thendara is settled I hope to be so drunk that no friend of mine need be ashamed of me. Good day, sir. God save our country!"

 "Have a care, " I motioned, turning away. And so I left him to enter the shop and purchase a trinket, thinking it prudent in case any passer-by had observed how long I lingered. 

 _July 16th. _--Sir Peter not yet returned from Mr. Rutgers. The name "Thendara" ringing in my ears like a dull bell all night, and I awake, lying there a-thinking. Somewhere, in some long-forgotten year, I had heard a whispering echo of that name--or so it seemed to me--and, musing, I thought to savor a breeze from the pines, and hear water flowing, unseen, far in the forest silence. 

 Thendara! Thendara!

 The name is not Iroquois--yet it may be, too--a soft, gracious trisyllable stolen from the Lenape. Lord! how the name intrigues me, sweetly sonorous, throbbing in my ears--Thendara, Thendara--and always I hear the pine breeze high blowing and the flowing undertone of waters. 

 _July 17th. _--Nothing extraordinary. The Hon. Elsin Grey arrived from Halifax by the Swan packet to visit Sir Peter's family, she being cousin twice removed to Lady Coleville. I have not seen her; she keeps her chamber with the migraine. As she comes from her kinsman, General Sir Frederick Haldimand, Governor of Canada, she may be useful, being lately untethered from the convent and no more than seventeen or eighteen, and vain, no doubt, of her beauty, and so, I conclude, prone to babble if flattered. 

Here my journal ended; I dipped my quill into the inkhorn and wroteslowly:

 _July 18th. _--Nothing remarkable. The Hon. Elsin Grey still keeps her chamber. The heat in New York is very great. I am, without suspicion, sending money through Ennis to our prisoners aboard the ships in the Wallabout, and next week shall have more for the unfortunates in the Provost, the prisons, jails, and the sugar-house--my salary being due on the 20th inst. I have ever in mind a plan for a general jail delivery the instant his Excellency assaults by land and sea, but at present it is utterly hopeless, Mr. Cunningham executing the laws with terrible rigor, and double guards patrolling the common. As for those wretched patriots aboard the "_Hell_" and on those hulks--the _Falconer_, _Good Hope_, and _Scorpion_--which lie southeast of the _Jersey_, there can be no delivery save through compassion of that Dark Jailer who one day shall free us all. 

I dropped my pen, listening intently. Close to my door the garretstairs creaked, ever so lightly; and I bent forward across the table, gathering my papers, on which the ink lay still wet. 

Listening, I heard nothing more. Perhaps the great heat was warping thenew stairway, which led past my door, up through the attic, and out tothe railed cupola upon the roof. 

I glanced at my journal; there was nothing more to add, and so, sandingthe sheets, I laid them back behind the swinging panel which I myselfhad fashioned so cunningly that none might suspect a cupboard in thesimple wainscot. Then to wash hands and face in fresh water, and put onmy coat without the waistcoat, prepared to take the air on the cupola, where it should soon blow cool from the bay. 

Slipping lock and bolt, I paused, hand on the knob, to glance backaround the room--a habit formed of caution. Then, satisfied, I openedthe door and left it standing wide so that the room might air. As Iascended the attic stairs a little fresh puff of wind cooled me. Doubtless a servant had opened the flaps to the cupola, for they werelaid back; and as I mounted, I could see a square of blue sky overhead. 

I had taken my pipe, and paused on the stairs to light it; then, pouching flint and tinder-box, I emerged upon the roof, to find myselfface to face with a young girl I had never before seen--the Hon. MissGrey, no doubt--and very dainty in her powder and one coquette patchthat emphasized the slow color tinting a skin of snow. 

My bow, I think, covered my vexation--I being all unpowdered andwearing no waistcoat over an unfrilled shirt, for I do love fineclothes when circumstances require; but the lady was none the lesspunctilious, and as I made to toss my pipe into the street below, sheforbade me with perfect courtesy and a smile that only accented heryouthful self-possession. 

"Mr. Renault need neither retire nor sacrifice his pleasure, " she said. "I have missed Sir Frederick's pipe-smoke dreadfully--so much, indeed, that I had even thought to try Sir Peter's snuff to soothe me. "

"Shall I fetch it, madam?" I asked instantly; but she raised a smallhand in laughing horror. 

"Snuff and picquet I am preparing for--a youth of folly--an old age ofsnuff and cards, you know. At present folly suffices, thank you. "

And as I stood smiling before her, she said: "Pray you be seated, sir, if you so desire. There should be sufficient air for two in thishalf-charred furnace which you call New York. Tell me, Mr. Renault, arethe winters here also extreme in cold?"

"Sometimes, " I said. "Last winter the bay was frozen to Staten Islandso that the artillery crossed on the ice from the city. "

She turned her head, looking out over the water, which was now all agolden sparkle under the westering sun. Then her eyes dropped to theburned district--that waste of blackened ruins stretching south alongBroadway to Beaver Street and west to Greenwich Street. 

"Is that the work of rebels?" she asked, frowning. 

"No, madam; it was an accident. "

"Why do the New Yorkers not rebuild?"

"I think it is because General Washington interrupts localimprovements, " I said, laughing. 

She looked around at me, pretty brows raised in quaint displeasure. 

"Does the insolence of a rebel really amuse you, Mr. Renault?"

I was taken aback. Even among the British officers here in the city ithad become the fashion to speak respectfully of the enemy, and aboveall of his Excellency. 

"Why should it not amuse me?" I asked lightly. 

She had moved her head again, and appeared to be absorbed in the view. Presently she said, still looking out over the city: "That was a noblechurch once, that blackened arch across the way. "

"That is Trinity--all that is left of it, " I said. "St. Paul's is stillstanding--you may see it there to the north, just west of Ann Streetand below Vesey. "

She turned, leaning on the railing, following with curious eyes thedirection of my outstretched arm. 

"Please tell me more about this furnace you call a city, Mr. Renault, "she said, with a pretty inflection of voice that flattered; and so Iwent over beside her, and, leaning there on the cupola rail together, we explored the damaged city from our bird's perch above it--the citythat I had come to care for strangely, nay, to love almost as I lovedmy Mohawk hills. For it is that way with New York, the one city that wemay love without disloyalty to our birthplace, a city which is home ina larger sense, and, in a sense, almost as dear to men as thebirth-spot which all cherish. I know not why, but this is so; noAmerican is long strange here; for it is the great hearth of themother-land where the nation gathers as a family, each conscious of ashare in the heritage established for all by all. 

And so, together, this fair young English girl and I traced out thewards numbered from the cardinal points of the compass, and I boundedfor her the Out-Ward, too, and the Dock-Ward. There was no haze, only aliving golden light, clear as topaz, and we could see plainly thesentinels pacing before the Bridewell--that long two-storied prison, built of gloomy stone; and next to it the Almshouse of gray stone, andnext to that the massive rough stone prison, three stories high, wherein a cupola an iron bell hung, black against the sky. 

"You will hear it, some day, tolling for an execution, " I said. 

"Do they hang rebels there?" she asked, looking up at me sowonderingly, so innocently that I stood silent instead of answering, surprised at such beauty in a young girl's eyes. 

"Where is King's College?" she asked. I showed her the building boundedby Murray, Chapel, Barckley and Church streets, and then I pointed outthe upper barracks behind the jail, and the little lake beyond dividedby a neck of land on which stood the powder-house. 

Far across the West Ward I could see the windows of Mr. Lispenard'smansion shining in the setting sun, and the road to Greenwich windingalong the river. 

She tired of my instruction after a while, and her eyes wandered to thebay. A few ships lay off Paulus Hook; the Jersey shore seemed verynear, although full two miles distant, and the islands, too, seemedclose in-shore where the white wings of gulls flashed distantly. 

A jack flew from the Battery, another above the fort, standing outstraight in the freshening breeze from the bay. Far away across the EastRiver I saw the accursed _Jersey_ swinging, her black, filthy bulwarksgilded by the sun; and below, her devil's brood of hulks at anchor, allwith the wash hung out on deck a-drying in the wind. 

"What are they?" she asked, surprising something else than the fixedsmile of deference in my face. 

"Prison ships, madam. Yonder the rebels die all night, all day, weekafter week, year after year. That black hulk you see yonder--the one tothe east--stripped clean, with nothing save a derrick for bow-sprit anda signal-pole for mast, is the _Jersey_, called by another name, sometimes----"

"What name?"

"Some call her '_The Hell_, '" I answered. And, after a pause: "It mustbe hot aboard, with every porthole nailed. "

"What can rebels expect?" she asked calmly. 

"Exactly! There are some thousand and more aboard the _Jersey_. When thewind sets from the south, on still mornings, I have heard a strangemoaning--a low, steady, monotonous plaint, borne inland over the city. But, as you say, what can rebels expect, madam?"

"What is that moaning sound you say that one may hear?" she demanded. 

"Oh, the rebels, dying from suffocation--clamoring for food, perhaps--perhaps for water! It is hard on the guards who have to godown every morning into that reeking, stifling hold and drag out thedead rebels festering there----"

"But that is horrible!" she broke out, blue eyes wide withastonishment--then, suddenly silent, she gazed at me full in the face. "It is incredible, " she said quietly; "it is another rebel tale. Tellme, am I not right?"

I did not answer; I was thinking how I might use her, and the thoughtwas not agreeable. She was so lovely in her fresh young womanhood, soimpulsive and yet so self-possessed, so utterly ignorant of what waspassing in this war-racked land of mine, that I hesitated to gogleaning here for straws of information. 

"In the north, " she said, resting her cheek on one slender wrist, "wehear much of rebel complaint, but make nothing of it, knowing well thatif cruelty exists its home is not among those sturdy men who arefighting for their King. "

"You speak warmly, " I said, smiling. 

"Yes--warmly. We have heard Sir John Johnson slandered because he usesthe Iroquois. But do not the rebels use them, too? My kinsman, GeneralHaldimand, says that not only do the rebels employ the Oneidas, butthat their motley congress enlists any Indian who will take their paperdollars. "

"That is true, " I said. 

"Then why should we not employ Brant and his Indians?" she askedinnocently. "And why do the rebels cry out every time Butler's Rangerstake the field? We in Canada know Captain Walter Butler and his father, Colonel John Butler. Why, Mr. Renault, there is no more perfectlyaccomplished officer and gentleman than Walter Butler. I know him; Ihave danced with him at Quebec and at Niagara. How can even a rebel soslander him with these monstrous tales of massacre and torture andscalps taken from women and children at Cherry Valley?" She raised herflushed face to mine and looked at me earnestly. 

"Why even our own British officers have been disturbed by theseslanders, " she said, "and I think Sir Henry Clinton half believes thatour Royal Greens and Rangers are merciless marauders, and that WalterButler is a demon incarnate. "

"I admit, " said I, "that we here in New York have doubted the mercy ofthe Butlers and Sir John Johnson. "

"Then let me paint these gentlemen for you, " she said quickly. 

"But they say these gentlemen are capable of painting themselves, " Iobserved, tempted to excite her by the hint that the Rangers smearedtheir faces like painted Iroquois at their hellish work. 

"Oh, how shameful!" she cried, with a little gesture of horror. "Whatdo you think us, there in Canada? Because our officers must needs holda wilderness for the King, do you of New York believe us savages?"

The generous animation, the quick color, charmed me. She was no longerEnglish, she was Canadienne--jealous of Canadian reputation, quick toresent, sensitive, proud--heart and soul believing in the honor of herown people of the north. 

"Let me picture for you these gentlemen whom the rebels cry out upon, "she said. "Sir John Johnson is a mild, slow man, somewhat sluggish andoverheavy, moderate in speech, almost cold, perhaps, yet a perfectlygallant officer. "

"His father was a wise and honest gentleman before him, " I saidsincerely. "Is his son, Sir John, like him?"

She nodded, and went on to deal with old John Butler--nor did I stayher to confess that these Johnsons and Butlers were no strangers to me, whose blackened Broadalbin home lay a charred ruin to attest the lovethat old John Butler bore my family name. 

And so I stood, smiling and silent, while she spoke of Walter Butler, describing him vividly, even to his amber black eyes and his pale face, and the poetic melancholy with which he clothed the hidden blood-lustthat smoldered under his smooth pale skin. But there you haveit--young, proud, and melancholy--and he had danced with her atNiagara, too, and--if I knew him--he had not spared her hints of thatimpetuous flame that burned for all pure women deep in the blackenedpit of his own damned soul. 

"Did you know his wife?" I asked, smiling. 

"Walter Butler's--wife!" she gasped, turning on me, white as death. 

There was a silence; she drew a long, deep breath; suddenly, thegayest, sweetest little laugh followed, but it was slowly that thecolor returned to lip and cheek. 

"Is he not wedded?" I asked carelessly--the damned villain--at hisMohawk Valley tricks again!--and again she laughed, which was, nodoubt, my wordless answer. 

"Does he dance well, this melancholy Ranger?" I asked, smiling to seeher laugh. 

"Divinely, sir. I think no gentleman in New York can move a minuet withWalter Butler's grace. Oh, you New Yorkers! You think we arenothing--fit, perhaps, for a May-pole frolic with the rustic gentry! Donot deny it, Mr. Renault. Have we not heard you on the subject? Do notyour officers from Philadelphia and New York come mincing and tiptoeingthrough Halifax and Quebec, all smiling and staring about, quizzingglasses raised? And--'Very pretty! monstrous charming! spike me, butthe ladies powder here!' And, 'Is this green grass? Damme, where's thesnow--and the polar bears, you know?'"

I laughed as she paused, breathlessly scornful, flushed with charmingindignation. 

"And is not Canada all snow?" I asked, to tease her. 

"Snow! It is sweet and green and buried in flowers!" she cried. 

"In winter, madam?"

"Oh! You mean to plague me, which is impertinent, because I do not knowyou well enough--I have not known you above half an hour. I shall tellLady Coleville. "

"So shall I--how you abuse us all here in New York----"

"I did not. You are teasing me again, Mr. Renault. "

Defiant, smiling, her resentment was, after all, only partly real. 

"We are becoming friends much too quickly to suit me, " she saiddeliberately. 

"But not half quickly enough to suit me, " I said. 

"Do you fancy that I take that silly speech as compliment, Mr. Renault?"

"Ah, no, madam! On such brief acquaintance I dare not presume to offeryou the compliments that burn for utterance!"

"But you _do_ presume to plague me--on such brief acquaintance!" sheobserved. 

"I am punished, " I said contritely. 

"No, you are not! You are not punished at all, because I don't know howto, and--I am not sure I wish to punish you, Mr. Renault. "

"Madam?"

"If you look at me so meekly I shall laugh. Besides, it ishypocritical. There is nothing meek about you!" I bowed more meeklythan ever. 

"Mr. Renault?"

"Madam?"

She picked up her plumed fan impatiently and snapped it open. 

"If you don't stop being meek and answering 'Madam' I shall presentlygo distracted. Call me something else--anything--just to see how welike it. Tell me, do you know my first name?"

"Elsin, " I said softly, and to my astonishment a faint, burningsensation stung my cheeks, growing warmer and warmer. I think she wasastonished, too, for few men at twenty-three could color up in thosedays; and there was I, a hardened New Yorker of four years' adoption, turning pink like a great gaby at a country fair when his sweetheartmeets him at the ginger bower!

To cover my chagrin I nodded coolly, repeating her name with a criticalair--"Elsin, " I mused, outwardly foppish, inwardly amazed andmad--"Elsin--um! ah!--very pretty--very unusual, " I added, with apatronizing nod. 

She did not resent it; when at last I made bold to meet her gaze it waspensive and serene, yet I felt somehow that her innocent blue eyes hadtaken my measure as a man--and not to my advantage. 

"Your name is not a usual one, " she said. "When I first heard it fromSir Peter I laughed. "

"Why?" I said coldly. 

"Why? Oh, I don't know, Mr. Renault! It sounded so very young--CarusRenault--it sounds so young and guileless----"

Speechless with indignation, I caught a glimmer under the lowered lidsthat mocked me, and I saw her mouth quiver with the laugh flutteringfor freedom. 

She looked up, all malice, and the pent laughter rippled. 

"Very well, " I said, giving in, "I shall take no pity on you infuture. "

"My dear Mr. Renault, do you think I require your pity?"

"Not now, " I said, chagrined. "But one day you may cry out formercy----"

"Which you will doubtless accord, being a gallant gentleman and noMohawk. "

"Oh, I can be a barbarian, too, for I am, by adoption, an Oneida of theWolf Clan, and entitled to a seat in Council. "

"I see, " she said, "you wear your hair à l'Iroquois. "

I reddened again; I could not help it, knowing my hair was guiltless ofpowder and all awry. 

"If I had supposed you were here, do you imagine I should havepresented myself unpowdered and without a waistcoat?" I said, exasperated. 

Her laughter made it no easier, though I strove to retrieve myself andreturn to the light badinage she had routed me from. Lord, what a teasewas in this child, with her deep blue eyes and her Dresden porcelainskin of snow and roses!

"Now, " she said, recovering her gravity, "you may return to yourletter-writing, Mr. Renault. I have done with you for the moment. "

At that I was sobered in a trice. 

"What letter-writing?" I made out to answer calmly. 

"Were you not hard at work penning a missive to some happy soul whoenjoys your confidence?"

"Why do you believe I was?" I asked. 

She tossed her head airily. "Oh! for that matter, I could even tell youwhat you wrote: 'Nothing remarkable; the Hon. Elsin Grey still keepsher chamber'--did you not write that?"

She paused, the smile fading from her face. Perhaps she thought she hadgone too far, perhaps something in my expression startled her. 

"I beg your pardon, " she said quickly; "have I hurt you, Mr. Renault?"

"How did you know I wrote that?" I asked in a voice I hoped was steady. 

"Why, it is there on your shirt, Mr. Renault, imprinted backward fromthe wet ink. I have amused myself by studying it out letter by letter. Please forgive me--it was dreadfully indiscreet--but I only meant totorment you. "

I looked down, taking my fine lawn shirt in both hands. There was theimpression--my own writing, backward, but distinct. I remembered when Ihad done it, when I had gathered my ink-wet papers under my arms andleaned forward to listen to the creaking of the attic stairway. Supposeit had been Sir Peter! Suppose the imprint had been something thatcould have admitted of but one interpretation? I turned cold at thethought. 

She was watching me all the while, a trifle uneasy at my silence, butmy smile and manner reassured her, and my gaiety she met instantly. 

"I am overwhelmed, " I said, "and can offer no excuse for this frowsydress. If you had any idea how mortified I am you would have mercy onme. "

"My hair not being dressed à l'Iroquois, I consent to show you mercy, "she said. "But you came monstrous near frightening me, too. Do you knowyou turned white, Mr. Renault? Lud! the vanity of men, to pale at ajest touching their status in fopdom as proper macaroni!"

"I do love to appear well, " I said resentfully. 

"Now do you expect me to assure you that you _do_ appear well? that eventhe dress of a ragged forest-runner would detract nothing from yourperson? Ah, I shall say nothing of the sort, Mr. Renault! Doubtlessthere are women a-plenty in New York to flatter you. "

"No, " I said; "they prefer scarlet coats and spurs, as you will, too. "

"No doubt, " she said, turning her head to the sunset. 

There was enough wind to flutter the ribbons on her shoulders and bareneck, and to stir the tendrils of her powdered hair, a light breezeblowing steadily from the bay as the sun went down into the crimsonflood. Bang! A cloud of white smoke hung over Pearl Street where theevening gun had spoken; the flag on the fort fluttered down, the flag onthe battery followed. Out on the darkening river a lanthorn glimmeredfrom the deck of the _Jersey_; a light sparkled on Paulus Hook. 

"Hark! hear the drums!" she murmured. Far down Broadway the Britishdrums sounded, nearer, nearer, now loud along Dock Street, now lost inQueen, then swinging west by north they came up Broad, into Wall; and Icould hear the fifes shrilling out, "The World turned Upside-down, " andthe measured tread of the patrol, marching to the Upper Barracks andthe Prison. 

The drummers wheeled into Broadway beneath our windows; leaning over Isaw them pass, and I was aware of something else, too--a greatstrapping figure in a drover's smock, watching the British drums fromthe side path across the way--my friend of Nassau Street--and clingingto his arm, a little withered man, wrinkled, mild-eyed, clad also likea drover, and snapping his bull-whip to accent the rhythm of therolling drums. 

"I think I shall go down, " said a soft voice beside me; "pray do notmove, Mr. Renault, you are so picturesque in silhouette against thesunset--and I hear that silhouettes are so fashionable in New Yorkfopdom. "

I bowed; she held out her hand--just a trifle, as she passed me, thegesture of a coquette or of perfect innocence--and I touched it lightlywith finger-tip and lip. 

"Until supper, " she said--"and, Mr. Renault, do you suppose we shallhave bread for supper?"

"Why not?" I asked, all unsuspicious. 

"Because I fancied flour might be scarce in New York"--she glanced atmy unpowdered head, then fled, her blue eyes full of laughter. 

It is true that all hair powder is made of flour, but I did not use itlike a Hessian. And I looked after her with an uncertain smile and witha respect born of experience and grave uncertainty. 

CHAPTER II

THE HOUSEHOLD

About dusk Sir Peter arrived from lower Westchester while I wasdressing. Warned by the rattle of wheels from the coach-house at thefoot of the garden, and peering through the curtains, I saw the lampsshining and heard the trample of our horses on the stable floor; andpresently, as I expected, Sir Peter came a-knocking at my door, and myservant left the dressing of my hair to admit the master of the house. He came in, his handsome face radiant--a tall, graceful man of forty, clothed with that elegant carelessness which we call perfection, sostrikingly unobtrusive was his dress, so faultless and unstudied hisbearing. 

There was no dust upon him, though he had driven miles; his clean skinwas cool and pleasantly tinted with the sun of summer, spotless hislace at cuff and throat, and the buckles flashed at stock and knee andshoe as he passed through the candle-light to lay a familiar hand uponmy shoulder. 

"What's new, Carus?" he asked, and his voice had ever that pleasantundertone of laughter which endears. "You villain, have you been makinglove to Elsin Grey, that she should come babbling of Mr. Renault, Mr. Renault, Mr. Renault ere I had set foot in my own hallway? It wasindecent, I tell you--not a word for me, civil or otherwise, not aquestion how I had 'scaped the Skinners at Kingsbridge--only a flutterof ribbons and a pair of pretty hands to kiss, and 'Oh, CousinColeville! Is Mr. Renault kin to me, too?--for I so take it, havingfreely bantered him to advantage at first acquaintance. Was I bold, cousin?--but if you only knew how he tempted me--and he _is_ kin to you, is he not?--and you are Cousin Betty's husband. ' 'God-a-mercy!' said I, 'what's all this about Mr. Renault?--a rogue and a villain I shame toclaim as kin, a swaggering, diceing, cock-fighting ruffler, a-raking itfrom the Out-Ward to Jew Street! Madam, do you dare admit to me that youhave found aught to attract you in the company of this monument offoppery known as Carus Renault?'"

"Did you truly say that, Sir Peter?" I asked, wincing while my earsgrew hot. 

"Say it? I did not say it, I bellowed it!" He shrugged his shouldersand took snuff with an air. "The minx finds you agreeable, " heobserved; "why?--God knows!"

"I had not thought so, " I said, in modest deprecation, yet warming athis words. 

"Oh--had not thought so!" he mimicked, mincing over to thedressing-table and surveying the array of perfumes and pomades andcurling irons. "Carus, you shameless rake, you've robbed all QueenStreet! Essence, pomade-de-grasse, almond paste, bergamot, orange, French powder! By Heaven, man, do you mean to take the lady by storm orset up a rival shop to Smith's 'Sign of the Rose'? Here, have your manleave those two puffs above the ears; curl them loosely--that's it! Nowtie that queue-ribbon soberly; leave the flamboyant papillon style tothose damned Lafayettes and Rochambeaux! Now dust your master, Dennis, and fetch a muslinet waistcoat--the silver tambour one. Gad, Carus, I'dmake a monstrous fine success at decorating fops for a guinea ahead--eh?"

He inspected me through his quizzing glass, nodded, backed away infeigned rapture, and presently sat down by the window, stretching hiswell-shaped legs. 

"Damme, " he said, "I meant to ask what's new, but you chatter on sothat I have no chance for a word edgeways. Now, what the devil is newwith you?"

"Nothing remarkable, " I said, laughing. "Did you come to terms with Mr. Rutgers for his meadows?"

"No, " he replied irritably, "and I care nothing for his damned swampsfull of briers and mud and woodcock. "

"It is just as well, " I said. "You can not afford more land atpresent. "

"That's true, " he admitted cheerfully; "I'm spending too much. Gad, Carus, the Fifty-fourth took it out of us at that thousand-guinea main!Which reminds me to say that our birds at Flatbush are in primecondition and I've matched them. "

I looked up at him doubtfully. Our birds had brought him nothing buttrouble so far. 

"Let it pass, " he said, noticing my silent disapproval; "we'll talk toHorrock in the morning. Which reminds me that I have no money. " Helaughed, drew a paper from his coat, and unfolding it, read aloud:

 "1 pipe Madeira @ £90 per pipe--£90 1 pipe Port @ £46 per pipe--£46 20 gallons Fayal @ 5s. Per gal. -- 20 gallons Lisbon @ 5s. Per gal. -- 10 gallons Windward I. Rum @ 4s. Per gal. "

He yawned and tossed the paper on my dresser, saying, "Pay it, Carus. If our birds win the main we'll put the Forty-fifth under the table, and I'll pay a few debts. "

Standing there he stretched to his full graceful height, yawning onceor twice. "I'll go bathe, and dress for supper, " he said; "that shouldfreshen me. Shall we rake it to-night?"

"I'm for cards, " I said carelessly. 

"_With_ Elsin Grey or _without_ Elsin Grey?" he inquired in affectedearnestness. 

"If you had witnessed her treatment of me, " I retorted, "you'd nevermistake it for friendly interest. We'll rake it, if you like. There'sanother frolic at the John Street Theater. The Engineers play 'TheConscious Lovers, ' and Rosamund Barry sings 'Vain is Beauty's GaudyFlower. '"

But he said he had no mind for the Theater Royal that night, andpresently left me to Dennis and the mirror. 

In the mirror I saw a boyish youth of twenty-three, dark-eyed, somewhatlean of feature, and tinted with that olive smoothness of skininherited from the Renaults through my great-grandfather--a face whichin repose was a trifle worn, not handsome, but clearly cut, though nototherwise remarkable. It was, I believed, neither an evil nor a sullenbrooding face, nor yet a face in which virtue molds each pleasingfeature so that its goodness is patent to the world. 

Dennis having ended his ministrations, I pinned a brilliant at mythroat--a gift from Lady Coleville--and shook over it the cobweb laceso it should sparkle like a star through a thin cloud. Then passing mysmall sword through the embroidered slashing of my coat, and choosing ahandkerchief discreetly perfumed, I regarded myself at ease, thinkingof Elsin Grey. 

In the light of later customs and fashions I fear that I was somethingof a fop, though I carried neither spy-glass nor the two watches sacredto all fops. But if I loved dress, so did his Excellency, and JohnHancock, not to name a thousand better men than I; and while I confessthat I did and do dearly love to cut a respectable figure, frippery forits own sake was not among my vices; but I hold him a hind who, if hecan afford it, dresses not to please others and do justice to thefigure that a generous Creator has so patiently fashioned. "To pleaseothers!" sang my French blood within me; "to please myself!" echoed myEnglish blood--and so, betwixt the sanguine tides, I was minded toplease in one way or another, nor thought it a desire unworthy. Onething did distress me: what with sending all my salary to the prisons, I had no money left to bet as gentlemen bet, nor to back a well-heeledbird, nor to color my fancy for a horse. As for a mistress, or forthose fugitive affairs of the heart which English fashioncountenanced--nay, on which fashion insisted--I had no part in them, and brooked much banter from the gay world in consequence. It was notmerely lack of money, nor yet a certain fastidiousness implanted, noryet the inherent shrinking of my English blood from pleasure forbidden, for my Renault blood was hot enough, God wot! It was, I think, all ofthese reasons that kept me untainted, and another, the vague idea of awoman, somewhere in the world, who should be worth an unsulliedlove--worth far more than the best I might bring to her one day. And somy pride refused to place me in debt to a woman whom I had never known. 

As for money, I had my salary when it was convenient for Sir Peter; Ihad a small income of my own, long pledged to Colonel Willett's secretuses. It was understood that Sir Peter should find me in apparel; I hadcredit at Sir Peter's tailor, and at his hatter's and bootmaker's, too. Twice a year my father sent me from Paris a sum which was engaged tomaintain a bed or two in the Albany hospital for our soldiers. I make nomerit of it, for others gave more. So, it is plain to see I had no moneyfor those fashionable vices in the midst of which I lived, and if I lostfive shillings at whist I felt that I had robbed some wretched creatureon the _Jersey_, or dashed the cup from some poor devil's lips who laya-gasping in the city prison. 

My finery, then, was part and parcel of my salary--my salary in guineasalready allotted; so it came about that I moved in a loose and cynicalsociety, untainted only through force of circumstance and a pride thataccepts nothing which it may not return at interest. 

 * * * * *

When I descended to the dining-room I found all seated, and so askedpardon of Lady Coleville, who was gay and amiable as usual, and, "for apenance, " as she said, made me sit beside her. That was no penance, forshe was a beauty and a wit, her dainty head swimming with harmlessmischief; and besides knowing me as she did, she was monstrous amusingin a daring yet delicate fashion, which she might not use with anyother save her husband. 

That, as I say, was therefore no penance, but my punishment was to seeElsin Grey far across the table on Sir Peter's right, and to find in myother neighbor a lady whose sole delight in me was to alternately shockme with broad pleasantries and torment me with my innocence. 

[Illustration: My punishment was to see Elsin Grey far across thetable. ]

Rosamund Barry was her name, Captain Barry's widow--he who fell atBreeds Hill in '76--the face of a Madonna, and the wicked wit of a ladywhose name she bore, _sans La du_. 

"Carus, " she said, leaning too near me and waving her satin paintedfan, "is it true you have deserted me for a fairer conquest?"

"The rumor nails itself to the pillory, " I said; "who is fairer thanyou, Rosamund?"

"You beg the question, " she said severely, the while her dark eyesdanced a devil's shadow dance; "if you dare go tiptoeing around theskirts of the Hon. Miss Grey, I'll tell her all--_all_, mind you!"

"Don't do that, " I said, "unless you mean to leave New York. "

"All about _you_, silly!" she said, flushing in spite of her placidsmile. 

"Oh, " I said, with an air of great relief, "I was sure you could notcontemplate confession!"

She laid her pretty head on one side. "I wonder, " she mused, eying medeliberately--"I wonder what this new insolence of yours mightindicate. Is it rebellion? Has the worm turned?"

"The worm has turned--into a frivolous butterfly, " I said gaily. 

"I don't believe it, " she said. "Let me see if I can make you blush, Carus!" And she leaned nearer, whispering behind her fan. 

"Let me match that!" I said coolly. "Lend me your fan, Rosamund----"

"Carus!" exclaimed Lady Coleville, "stop it! Mercy on us, suchshameless billing and cooing! Captain O'Neil, call him out!"

"Faith, " said O'Neil, "to call is wan thing, and the chune Mrs. Barrysings is another. Take shame, Carus Renault, ye blatherin', bouldinthriguer! L'ave innocence to yer betthers!"

"To me, for example, " observed Captain Harkness complacently. "Mrs. Barry knows that raking fellow, Carus, and she knows you, too, you wildIrishman----"

"If you only keep this up long enough, gentlemen, " I said, striving tosmile, "you'll end by doing what I've so far avoided. "

"Ruining his reputation in Miss Grey's eyes, " explained Lady Colevillepleasantly. 

Elsin Grey looked calmly across at me, saying to Sir Peter, "He _is_ tooyoung to do such things, isn't he?"

That set them into fits of laughter, Sir Peter begging me to pause inmy mad career and consider the chief end of man, and Tully O'Neilgenerously promising moral advice and the spiritual support of RosamundBarry, which immediately diverted attention from me to a lightning duelof words between Rosamund and O'Neil--parry and thrust, innuendo andeloquent silence, until Lady Coleville in pantomime knocked up thecrossed blades of wit, and Sir Peter vowed that this was no place foran innocent married man. 

When Lady Coleville rose we drew our swords and arched a way for her, and she picked up her silken petticoat and ran under, laughing, onehand pressed to her ears to shut out the cheers. 

There were long black Spanish cigars, horribly strong, served withspirits after the ladies had left. O'Neil and Harkness used them; SirPeter and I accepted the long cool pipes, and we settled for acomfortable smoke. 

Sir Peter spoke of the coming cock-fight with characteristicoptimism--not shared by Harkness, and but partially approved by O'Neil. Details were solemnly discussed, questions of proper heeling, of silverand steel gaffs, of comb and wattle cutting, of the texture of featherand hackle, and of the "walks" at Flatbush and Horrock's method offeeding in the dark. 

Tiring of the subject, Harkness, spoke of the political outlook andtook a gloomy view, paying his Excellency a compliment by referring tohim as "no fox, but a full-grown wolf, with an appetite for a continentand perhaps for a hemisphere. "

"Pooh!" said Sir Peter, lazily sucking at his pipe, "Sir Henry has himholed. We'll dig him out before snow flies. "

"What folly, Sir Peter!" remonstrated Harkness, leaning forward so thatthe candle-light blazed on his gold and scarlet coat. "Look back fiveyears, Sir Peter, then survey the damnable situation now! Do yourealize that to-day England governs but one city in America?"

"Wait, " observed Sir Peter serenely, expelling a cloud of smoke so thatit wreathed his handsome head in a triple halo. 

"Wait? Faith, if there's anything else to do but wait I'll take thatjob!" exclaimed O'Neil ruefully. 

"Why don't you take it, then?" retorted Sir Peter. "It's no secret, Ifancy--that plan of Walter Butler's--is it?" he added, seeing that weknew nothing of any plan. 

"Sir Henry makes no secret of it, " he continued; "it's talked over anddisparaged openly at mess and at headquarters. I can see noindiscretion in mentioning it here. "

It was at such moments that I felt a loathing for myself, and suchstrong self-disgust must surely have prevailed in the end to make mefalse to duty if, as I have said, I had not an absolute faith that hisExcellency required no man to tarnish his honor for the motherland'ssalvation. 

"What's afoot?" inquired Harkness curiously. 

"Why, you remember how the rebel General Sullivan went through the SixNations, devastating the Iroquois country, laying waste, burning, destroying their orchards and crops--which, after all, accomplished thecomplete destruction of our own granary in the North?"

"'Twas a dhirty thrick!" muttered O'Neil. "Sure, 'tis the poor nakedhaythen will pay that score wan day, or I'm a Hessian!"

"They'll pay it soon if Walter Butler has his way, " said Sir Peter. "Sir John Johnson and the Butlers and Colonel Ross are gathering in theNorth. Haldimand's plan is to strike at the rebels' food supply--thecultivated region from Johnstown south and west--do what Sullivan did, lay waste the rebel grain belt, burn fodder, destroy all orchards--God!it will go hard with the frontier again. " He swung around to Harkness:"It's horrible to me, Captain--and Walter Butler not yet washed cleanof the blood of Cherry Valley. I tell you, loyal as I am, humblesubject of my King, whom I reverence, I affirm that this blackened, blood-soaked frontier is a barrier to England which she can never, never overcome, and though we win out to-day, and though we hang therebels thick as pears in Lispenard's orchards, that barrier willremain, year by year fencing us in, crowding us back to the ocean, toour ships, back to the land from whence we English came. And for alltime will the memory of these horrors set America's face against us--ifnot for all time, yet our children's children and their children shallnot outlive the tradition burned into the heart of this quivering landwe hold to-day, half shackled, still struggling, already rising to itsbleeding knees. "

"Gad!" breathed O'Neil, "'tis threason ye come singin' to the chune o'Yankee Doodle-doo, Sir Peter. "

"It's sense, " said Sir Peter, already smiling at his own heat. 

"So Ross and the Butlers are to strike at the rebel granaries?"repeated Harkness, musing. 

"Yes; they're gathering on the eastern lakes and at Niagara--Butler'sRangers, Johnson's Greens, Brant's Iroquois, some Jägers, a fewregulars, and the usual partizan band of painted whites who disgrace usall, by Heaven! But there, " added Sir Peter, smiling, "I've done withthe vapors. I bear no arms, and it is unfit that I should judge thosewho do. Only, " and his voice rang a little, "I understand battles, notbutchery. Gentlemen, to the British Army! the regulars, God bless 'em!Bumpers, gentlemen!"

I heard O'Neil muttering, as he smacked his lips after the toast, "Andto hell with the Hessians! Bad cess to the Dootch scuts!"

"Did you say the rendezvous is at Niagara?" inquired Harkness. 

"I've heard so. I've heard, too, of some other spot--an Indianname--Thend--Thend--plague take it! Ah, I have it--Thendara. You knowit, Carus?" he asked, turning so suddenly on me that my guilty heartceased beating for a second. 

"I have heard of it, " I said, finding a voice scarce like my own. "Where is it, Sir Peter?"

"Why, here in New York there has ever been a fable about a lost town inthe wilderness called Thendara. I never knew it to be true; but nowthey say that Walter Butler has assigned Thendara as his gatheringplace, or so it is reported in a letter to Sir Henry, which Sir Henryread to me. Have _you_ no knowledge of it, Carus?"

"None at all. I remember hearing the name in childhood. Perhaps betterwoodsmen than I know where this Thendara lies, but I do not. "

"It must lie somewhere betwixt us and Canada, " said Harkness vaguely. "Does not Sir Henry know?"

"He said he did not, " replied Sir Peter, "and he sent out a scout forinformation. No information has arrived. Is it an Iroquois word, Carus?"

"I think it is of Lenape origin, " I said--"perhaps modified by theMohawk tongue. I know it is not pure Oneida. "

Harkness glanced at me curiously. "You'd make a rare scout, " he said, "with your knowledge of the barbarians. "

"The wonder is, " observed Sir Peter, "that he is not a scout on theother side. If my home had been burned by the McDonalds and theButlers, I'm damned if I should forget which side did it!"

"If I took service with the rebels, " said I, "it would not be becauseof personal loss. Nor would that same private misfortune deter me fromserving King George. The men who burned my home represent no greatcause. When I have leisure I can satisfy personal quarrels. "

"Lord!" laughed Sir Peter, "to hear you bewail your lack of leisure onemight think you are now occupied with one cause or t'other. Pray, mydear Carus, when do you expect to find time to call out these enemiesof yours?"

"You wouldn't have me deprive the King of Walter Butler's services, would you?" I asked so gravely that everybody laughed, and we rose ingood humor to join the ladies in the drawing-rooms. 

Sir Peter's house on Wall Street had been English built, yet borecertain traces of the old Dutch influence, for it had a stoop leadingto the front door, and the roof was Dutch, save for the cupola; a finewide house, the façade a little scorched from the conflagration of '78which had ruined Trinity Church and the Lutheran, and many finebuildings and homes. 

The house was divided by a wide hallway, on either side of which weredrawing-rooms, and in the rear of these was a dining-room giving on aconservatory which overlooked the gardens. The ground floor served as aservant's hall, with a door at the area and another in the rear leadingout through the garden-drive to the stables. 

The floor above the drawing-rooms had been divided into two suites, onein gold leather and blue for Sir Peter and his lady, the other incrimson damask for guests. The third floor, mine, was similarlydivided, I occupying the Wall Street side, with windows on thatfashionable street and also on Broadway. 

Thus it happened that, instead of entering the south drawing-room whereI saw the ladies at the card-table playing Pharaoh, I turned to theright and crossed the north, or "state drawing-room, " and parted thecurtains, looking across Broadway to see if I might spy my friend thedrover and his withered little mate. No doubt prudence and a dislikefor the patrol kept them off Broadway at that hour, for I could not seethem, although a few street lamps were lit and I could make outwayfarers as far north as Crown Street. 

Standing there in the dimly lighted room, my nose between the partedcurtains, I heard my name pronounced very gently behind me, and, turning, beheld Miss Grey, half lying on a sofa in a distant corner. Ihad not seen her when I entered, my back being turned to the east, andI said so, asking pardon for an unintentional rudeness--which shepardoned with a smile, slowly waving her scented fan. 

"I am a little tired, " she said; "the voyage from Halifax was rough, and I have small love for the sea, so, Lady Coleville permitting, Icame in here to rest from the voices and the glare of too brightcandle-light. Pray you be seated, Mr. Renault--if it does not displeaseyou. What were you looking for from the window yonder?"

"Treason, " I said gaily. "But the patrol should be able to see to that. May I sit here a moment?"

"Willingly; I like men. "

Innocence or coquetry, I was clean checked. Her white eyelids languidlyclosing over the pure eyes of a child gave me no clue. 

"All men?" I inquired. 

"How silly! No, very few men. But that is because I only know a few. "

"And may I dare to hope that--" I began in stilted gallantry, cut shortby her opening eyes and smile. "Of course I like you, Mr. Renault. Canyou not see that? It's a pity if you can not, as all the others teaseme so about you. Do you like me?"

"Very, _very_ much, " I replied, conscious of that accursed color burningmy face again; conscious, too, that she noted it with calm curiosity. 

"Very, _very_ much, " she repeated, musing. "Is that why you blush sooften, Mr. Renault--because you like me very, _very_ much?"

Exasperated, I strove to smile. I couldn't; and dignity would not serveme, either. 

"If I loved you, " said I, "I might change color when you spoke. Therefore my malady must arise from other causes--say from Sir Peter'swine, for instance. "

"I knew a man who fell in love with me, " she said. "You may do so yet. "

"Do you think it likely?" I asked, scarcely knowing how to meet thiscool attack. 

"I think it possible--don't you?" she asked. 

I considered, or made pretense to. My heart had begun to beat too fast;and as for her, I could no more fathom her than the sea, yet her babblewas shallow enough to strand wiser men than I upon its sparklingshoals. 

"I do like men, " she said thoughtfully, "but not all men, as I said Idid. Now at supper I looked about me and I found only you attractive, save Sir Peter, and he counts nothing in a game of hearts. "

"When you come to mingle with New York society you will, no doubt, findothers far more attractive, " I said stupidly. 

"No doubt. Still, in the interim"--she looked straight at me from underher delicate level brows--"in the meanwhile, will you not amuse me?"

"How, madam?"

"I shall not tell you if you call me 'madam. '"

"Will the Hon. Elsin Grey inform me how I may amuse her ladyship?"

"Nor that, either. "

I hesitated, then leaned nearer: "How may I amuse you, Elsin?"

"Why, by courting me, silly!" she said, laughing, and spreading hersilken fan. "How else is a woman amused?"

Her smooth hand lay across the velvet arm of the sofa; I took it andraised it to my lips, and she smiled approval, then drew a languidlittle sigh, fanned, and vowed I was the boldest man she had everknown. 

I told her how exquisite her beauty was, I protested at her coldness, Idedicated myself to her service, vowing eternal constancy; andpresently my elaborate expressions rang truer and grew more simple, andshe withdrew her hand with a laugh, looking at me out of thosebeautiful eyes which now were touched with curiosity. 

"For a jester, Carus, you are too earnest, " she said. 

"Does pretense frighten you?"

She regarded me, silent, smiling, her fan at her lips. 

"You are playing with fire, " she said. 

"Tell me, heart of flint, am I the steel to strike a spark from?" Iasked, laughing. 

"I do not know yet of what metal you are made, Carus, " she saidthoughtfully, yet with that dim smile hovering ever upon her lips. 

She dropped her fan and held up one finger. "Listen; let me read you. Here is my measure of such a man as you: First of all, generous!--lookat your mouth, which God first fashions, then leaves for us to make ormar. Second, your eyes--sincere! for though you blush like a maiden, Carus, your eyes are steady to the eyes that punish. Third, dogged!spite of the fierce impatience that sets your chiseled nose a-quiver atthe nostrils. There! Am I not a very gipsy for a fortune? Read me, now. "

After a long silence I said, "I can not. "

"Truly?"

"Truly. I can not read you, Elsin. "

She opened her palm and held her fingers, one by one, frowning in aneffort to be just: "First, I am a fool; second, I am a fool; third, Iam a fool; fourth----"

I caught her hand, and she looked at me with a charming laugh. 

"I _am_, " she insisted, her hand resting in mine. 

"Why?"

"Why, because I--I am in love with Walter Butler--and--and I neverliked a man as well as I like you!"

I was astounded. She sighed, slowly shaking her head. "That is it, yousee. Love is very different from having a good time. He is so proud, sosad, so buried in noble melancholy, so darkly handsome, and all afirewith passion--which advances him not a whit with me nor commends him tomy mercy--only when he stands before me, his dark golden eyes lost indelicious melancholy; then, _then_, Carus, I know that it must be love Ifeel; but it is not a very cheerful sentiment. " She sighed again, picking up her fan with one hand--I held the other. 

"Now, with you--and I have scarce known you a dozen hours--it is socharming, so pleasant and cheerful--and I like you so much, Carus!--oh, the sentiment I entertain for you is far pleasanter than love. Have youever been in love?"

"I am, Elsin--almost. "

"Almost? Mercy on us! What will the lady say to 'almost'?"

"God knows, " I said, smiling. 

"Good!" she said approvingly; "leave her in God's care, and practise onme to perfect your courtship. I like it, really I do. It is strange, too, " she mused, with a tender smile of reminiscence, "for I have neverlet Captain Butler so much as touch my hand. But discretion, you see, is love; isn't it? So if I am so indiscreet with you, what harm isthere?"

"Are you unhappy away from him?" I asked. 

"No, only when with him. He seems to wring my heart--I don't know why, but, oh, I do so pity him!"

"Are you--plighted?"

"Oh, dear me, yes--but secretly. Ah, I should not have told youthat!--but there you are, Carus; and I do believe that I could tell youeverything I know if our acquaintance endures but twelve more hours. And_that_, " she added, considering me calmly, "is rather strange, I think. Don't you?"

Ere I could reply came Sir Peter, talking loudly, protesting that itwas a monstrous shame for me to steal away their guest, that I was avillain and all knew it, he himself best of all; and without more adohe tucked her arm under his and marched triumphantly away, leaving methere alone in the deserted room. 

But as Elsin gained the door she turned, looking back, and, laying herhand upon her lips, threw me a kiss behind Sir Peter's shoulders. 

CHAPTER III

THE COQ D'OR

The days that followed were brilliant links in a fierce sequence ofgaiety; and this though the weather was so hot that the very candles intheir sconces drooped, dripping their melted wax on egrette and lace, scarlet coat and scarf. A sort of midsummer madness attacked the city;we danced in the hot moonlit nights, we drove at noontide, with the sunflaring in a sky of sapphire, we boated on the Bronx, we galloped outto the lines, escorted by a troop of horse, to see the Continentaloutposts beyond Tarrytown--so bold they had become, and no "skinners, "either, but scouts of Heath, blue dragons if our glasses lied not, wellhorsed, newly saddled, holsters of bearskin, musket on thigh, and theJuly sun a-flashing on crested helmet and crossed sling-buckles. Andhow my heart drummed and the red blood leaped in me to beat in neck andtemple, at sight of my own comrades! And how I envied them, free toride erect and proud in the light of day, harnessed for battle, flyingno false colors for concealment--all fair and clean and aboveboard! AndI a spy!

We were gay, I say, and the town had gone mid-summer mad of its ownfancy--a fevered, convulsive reaction from a strain too long endured;and while the outlook for the King was no whit better here, and muchworse in the South, yet, as it was not yet desperate, the garrison, thecommander, and the Governor made a virtue of necessity, and, rousingfrom the pent inertia of the dreadful winter and shaking off thelethargy of spring, paced their cage with a restlessness that quickenedto a mania for some relief in the mad distraction of folly andfrivolity. 

And first, Sir Peter gave a ball at our house in honor of Elsin Grey, and we danced in the state drawing-room, and in the hallway, and in thesouth drawing-room, and Sir Henry walked a minuet with the Hon. ElsinGrey, and I had her to wine and later in a Westchester reel. Too muchpunch was drunk, iced, which is a deadly thing, and worse still whenthe foundation is laid in oranged tea! Too many officers, too manywomen, and all so hot, so suffocating, that the red ran from lip andcheek, streaking the face-powder, and the bare enameled shoulders ofthe women were frosted with perspiration like dew on wet roses. 

That was the first frolic given in her honor, followed by that wilddance at the Governor's, where the thickets of clustered candlesdrooped like lilies afire, and great islands of ice melted in thepunch-bowls ere they had been emptied a third. And yet the summermadness continued; by day we drove in couples, in Italian chaises, ormade cherry-parties to Long Island, or sailed the bay to the Narrows, or played rustic and fished in the bay; at night we danced, danced, danced, and I saw little of Elsin Grey save through a blaze ofcandle-light to move a minuet with her, to press her hand in a reel, orto conduct her to some garden pavilion where servants waited with icesamid a thirsty, breathless, jostling throng. 

The heat abated nothing; so terrible was it in the city that spite ofthe shade afforded by elm, lime, and honey-locust, men and horses werestricken on the streets, and the Tea Water ran low, and the Collect, where it flows out into a stream, dried up, and Mr. Rutger's swampsstank. Also, as was noted by men like me, who, country-bred, concernthemselves with trifles, the wild birds which haunted the trees instreet and lane sang no more, and I saw at times Lord Baltimore'sorioles and hedge-birds, beaks open, eyes partly closed, panting fromthe sun, so fierce it beat upon us in New York that summertide. 

As for the main Sir Peter had meant to fight with his Flatbush birds, we tried a shake-bag, stags, which, though fairly matched and handledby past masters, billed and pecked and panted without a blow from wingor spur, till we understood that the heat had stunned them, and so gaveup to wait for cooler sport. 

We waited, but not in idleness; the cage-fever drove us afield, and theDe Lanceys had us to the house for bowls and cricket, which the ladiesjoined, spoiling it somewhat for my taste; and we played golf at Mr. Lispenard's, which presently lost all charm for me, as Elsin Greyremained at the pavilion and touched no club, neither wood nor iron, save to beat the devil's tattoo upon the grass and smile into the boldeyes of Captain O'Neil. 

At Rivington's we found tennis, too, and good rackets, and I played onewhole morning with Elsin Grey, nor wearied of her delight that she beatme easily; though why I permitted it and why her victory gave mepleasure is more than I can comprehend, I always desiring to appearwell in trials of skill at which it is a shame for gentlemen not toexcel, and not ungallant to do one's best with ladies to oppose. 

Every Tuesday, at Bayard's Hill near the pump, a bull was baited; butthat bloody sport, and the matching of dogs, was never to my taste, although respectable gentlemen of fashion attended. 

However, there was racing at many places--at Newmarket on Salisburyplain, and at Jamaica; also Mr. Lispenard had a fine course atGreenwich village, near the country house of Admiral Warren, and Mr. DeLancey another between First and Second streets, near the Bowery Lane;but mostly we drove to Mr. Rutger's to see the running horses; and Iwas ashamed not to bet when Elsin Grey provoked me with her banteringchallenge to a wager, laying bets under my nose; but I could not riskmoney and remember how every penny saved meant to some prisoner aboardthe _Jersey_ more than a drop of water to a soul in torment. 

And how it hurt me--I who love to please, and who adore in others thathigh disregard of expense that I dared now never disregard! And toappear poor-spirited in her eyes, too! and to see the others stare attimes, and to be aware of quiet glances exchanged, and of meaning eyes!

It was late in July that the cooling change came--a delicious breathfrom the Narrows blowing steady as a trade; and the change having beenpredicted a week since by Venus, a negro wench of Lady Coleville's, SirPeter had wisely taken precaution to send word to Horrock in Flatbush;and now the main was to be fought at the cockpit in Great GeorgeStreet, at the Frenchman's "Coq d'Or, " a tavern maintained mostjealously by the garrison's officers, and most exclusive though scarcedecent in a moral sense, it being notorious for certain affairs inwhich even the formality of Gretna Green was dispensed with. 

Many a daintily cloaked figure stole, masked, to the rendezvous in thegarden under the cherry-trees, and many a duel was fought in thepleasant meadows to the south which we called Vauxhall; and there Ihave seen silent men waiting at dawn, playing with the coffee theyscarce could swallow, while their seconds paced the path beyond thestile, whistling reflectively, switching the wild roses, with awatchful eye for the coming party. 

But now, concerning that cocking-main at the Coq d'Or, and how it cameabout. The day was to be a merry one, Lady Coleville and Elsin Greysleeping until afternoon from the dissipation of the dance at theAssembly, which lasted until the breakfast hour; Sir Peter, CaptainsHarkness and O'Neil, and I to see the main in the morning, lunch at thetavern, and return to rest until time to dress for the great ball andsupper given by the officers of the artillery at Fort George. 

The day, the 28th of July, broke cloudless and sweetly cool. Dressing, I saw the jack flying straight in the sea-wind and a schooner in theNorth River heeled over and scudding south, with a white necklace offoam trailing from her sprit back along half her water-line. 

Sir Peter, in riding-boots and coat, came in high spirits to drink amorning cup with me, saying his birds had arrived and Horrock had goneforward with them, and that we must bolt breakfast and mount, for theFifty-fourth's officers were early risers, and we should not detainthem. And so he chattered on, joyously, pacing my chamber while Dennisbuckled my spurs. 

At breakfast we bolted what was set before us, with many a glancethrough the windows where, in the garden drive, our horses stoodsaddled in the shade of an elm, a black at each bit, and the wholestable-force out, all a-grinning to wish the master luck of hisFlatbush birds and the main to boot. 

"Carus, " said Sir Peter, fork poised, glass in hand, "it's a thousandon the main, a hundred on each battle, and I must win. You know that!"

I knew it only too well and said so, speaking cheerfully yet seriouslyof his affairs, which had become so complicated since the closerblockade of the city. But he was ever gaily impatient of details and ofpounds and pence. Accounts he utterly refused to audit, leaving it tome to pay his debts, patch up gaps left by depreciated securities, andfind a fortune to maintain him and his wife in the style which, Godknows, befitted him, but which he could no longer properly afford. Andwhen it came to providing money to fling from race-track to cockpit, and from coffee-house to card-room, I told him plainly he had none, which made him laugh and swear and vow I was treating him mostshabbily. And it was no use; he would have his pin-money, and I mustsell or pledge or borrow, at an interest most villainous, from thethrifty folk in Duke Street. 

So now, when I offered to discuss the danger of extravagance, he sworehe would not have a day's pleasure ruined by a sermon, and presently werose and went into the garden to mount, and I saw Sir Peterdistributing silver among the servants, so that all could share thepleasure and lay wagers among their kind for the honor of the Flatbushbirds and the master who bred them. 

"Come, Carus, " he sang out from his saddle, and I followed him at agallop out into Broadway and up the street, keeping under the shade ofthe trees to save our horses, though the air was cool and we had notfar to go. 

Presently he drew bridle, and we walked our horses past PartitionStreet, past Barckley, and the common, where I glanced askance at theominous row of the three dread buildings, the Bridewell, the Almshouse, the Prison, with the Provost's gallows standing always ready between;and it brought sullen thoughts to me which four years of patience couldnot crush; nor had all these years of inaction dulled the fierce sparkthat flashed to fire within me when I looked up at the barred windowsand at the sentinels, and thought of mine own people rotting there, andof Mr. Cunningham, the Provost, whom hell should one day be the worsefor. 

"Is aught amiss, Carus?" asked Sir Peter, catching my eye. 

"Yes, the cruelty practised yonder!" I blurted out. Never before had Isaid as much to any man. 

"You mean the debtors--or those above in the chain-room?" he asked, surprised. 

"I was not speaking of the Bridewell, but of the Prison, " I said. 

"What cruelty, Carus? You mean the rigor Cunningham uses?"

"Rigor!" I said, laughing, and my laugh was unpleasant. 

He looked at me narrowly. We rode past Warren Street and the UpperBarracks in silence, saluting an officer here and there withpreoccupied punctiliousness. Already I was repenting of my hardiness inmixing openly with politics or war--matters I had ever avoided or letpass with gay indifference. 

"Carus, " he said, patting his horse's mane, "you will lay a bet for thehonor of the family this time--will you not?"

"I have no money, " I replied, surprised; for never before had heoffered to suggest an interference into my own affairs--never by wordor look. 

"No money!" he repeated, laughing. "Gad, you rake, what do you do withit all?" And as I continued silent, he said more gravely, "May I speakplainly to a kinsman and dear friend?"

"Always, " I said uneasily. 

"Then, without offense, Carus, I think that, were I you, I should bet alittle--now and again--fling the guineas for a change--now and then--ifI were you, Carus. "

"If you were I you would not, " I said, reddening to the temples. 

"I think I should, nevertheless, " he persisted, smiling. "Carus, youknow that if you need money to bet with----"

"I'll tell you what I need, Sir Peter, " said I, looking him in the eye. "I need your faith in me that I am not by choice a niggard. "

"God forbid!" he cried. 

"Yet I pass among many for that, " I said hotly. "I know it, I suffer. Yet I can not burn a penny; it belongs to others, that's all. "

"A debt!" he murmured. 

"Call it as you will. The money you overpay me for my poor services isnot even my own to enjoy. "

Sir Peter dropped his bridle and slapped his gloved hands together witha noise that made his horse jump. "I knew it, " he cried, "I knew it, and so I told Elsin when she came to me, troubled, because in you thisone flaw appeared; yet though she questioned me, in the same breath shevowed the marble perfect, and asked me if you had parents or kindependent. She is a rare maid, my pretty kinswoman--" He hesitated, glancing cornerwise at me. 

"Do you know Walter Butler well?" I asked carelessly. 

"No, only a little. Why, Carus?"

"Is he married?"

"I never heard it. He is scarcely known to me save through Sir JohnJohnson, and that his zeal led him to what some call a privatereprisal. "

"Yes, he burned our house, or his Indians did, making pretense thatthey did not know who lived there, but thought the whole Bush a rebelhotbed. It is true the house was new, built while Sir John lay broodingthere in Canada over his broken parole. Perhaps Walter Butler did notknow the house was ours. "

"You are very generous, Carus, " said Sir Peter gravely. 

"No, not very. You see, my father and my mother were in France, and Ihere, and Butler's raiders only murdered one old man--a servant, allalone there, a man too old and deaf to understand their questions. Iknow who slew that ancient body-servant to my father, who often held meon his knees. No, Sir Peter, I am not generous, as you say. But thereare matters which must await the precedence of great events ere theirturn comes in the mills which grind so slow, so sure, and so exceedingfine. "

Sir Peter looked at me in silence, and in silence we rode on until wecame to the tavern called the Coq d'Or. 

They were there, the early risers of the Fifty-fourth--a jolly, noisycrowd, all scarlet and gold; and they set up a cheer, which was halfwelcome, half defiance, when we rode into the tavern yard anddismounted, bowing right and left; and the landlord came to receive us, and servants followed with champagne-cup, iced; and there was oldHorrock, too, hat in hand, to attend Sir Peter, with a shake of hiswise old head and a smile on his furrowed face--Horrock, the prince ofhandlers, with his chicken-men, and his scales, and his Flatbush birdsa-crowing defiance to the duck-wings, spangles, pyles, and Lord knowswhat, that his Majesty's Fifty-fourth Regiment of Foot had backed towin with every penny and farthing they could scrape to lay against us. 

I heard old Horrock whisper to Sir Peter, who was reading over thematch-list, "They're the best we can do, sir; combs low-cut, wingsrounded, hackle and saddle trimmed to a T, and the vanes perfect. " Helaughed: "What more can I do, sir? They had aniseed in their bread onthe third day, and on the weighing-day sheep-heart, and not two teacupsof water in the seven. They came from the walks in prime condition, andtartar and jalap did the rest. They sparred free in the boots and tookto the warm ale and sweet-wort, and the rooms were dark except atfeeding. What more can I do, sir, except heel them to ahair's-breadth?"

"You have no peer, Horrock, and you know it, " said Sir Peter, kindly, and the old man's furrowed face shone as he trotted off to thecovert-room. 

Meanwhile I had been hailed by a dozen friends of a dozen differentregiments, good fellows all: Major Jamison of the Partisans; EnsignHalvar, young Caryl of the Fortieth Foot; Helsing of the Artillery, andapparently every available commissioned officer of the Fifty-fourth, including Colonel Eyre, a gentleman with a scientific taste for the pitthat gained him the title of "The Game 'Un" from saucy subalterns, needless to say without his knowledge. 

"A good bird, well handled, freely backed--what more can a gentlemanask?" said Major Neville, waddling beside Sir Peter as we filed intothe tavern. "My wife calls it a shameful sport, but the cockpit is afashionable passion, damme! and a man out o' fashion is worse than anaddled cluck-egg! Eh, Renault? Good gad, sir! Do not cocks fightunurged, and are not their battles with nature's spurs more cruel thanwhen matched by man and heeled with steel or even silver, whichmercifully ends the combat in short order? And so I tell my wife, SirPeter, but she calls me brute, " he panted plaintively. 

"Pooh!" said Sir Peter, laughing, "I can always find a reason for anytransgression in the list from theft to murder, and justify each crimeby logic--if I put my mind to do so. But my mind is not partial tologic. I fight game-fowl and like it, be the fashion and the ethicswhat they may. "

He was unjust to himself as usual; to him there was no differencebetween the death of a pheasant afield and the taking off of a goodbird in the pit. 

Seated around the pit, there was some delay in showing, and Dr. Carmodyof the brigade staff gave me, unsolicited, his mature opinions upongame-fowl:

"Show me a bird of bold carriage, comb bright red and upright, eye fulland bright, beak strong and in good socket, breast full, body broad atshoulder and tapering to tail, thigh short, round, and hard as a nail, leg stout, flat-footed, and spur low--a bird with bright, hardfeathers, strong in a quill, warm and firm to the hand--and I care notwhat breed he be, spangle or black-red, I'll lay my last farthing withyou, Mr. Renault, if it shall please you. "

"And what am I to back?" said I, laughing--"a full plume, a long, softhackle, a squirrel-tail, a long-thighed, in-kneed, weak-beaked, coarse-headed henning-fowl selected by you?"

The little doctor roared with laughter; the buzz and hum ofconversation increased around us--bits of banter, jests tossed fromfriend to friend. 

"Who dubs your birds for you. Sir Peter?" cried Helsing--"the Bridewellbarber?"

"Ten guineas to eight with you on the first battle, " retorted SirPeter, courteously; and, "Done with you, sir!" said Helsing, noting thebet, while Sir Peter booked his memorandum and turned to meet a perfectshower of offers, all of which he accepted smilingly. And I--oh, I wassick to sit there without a penny laid to show my loyalty to Sir Peter. But it must be so, and I bit my lip and strove to smile and parry witha jest the well-meant offers which now and then came flying my way. ButO'Neil and Harkness backed the Flatbush birds right loyally, cautionedby Sir Peter, who begged that they wait; but they would not--and onewas Irish--so nothing would do but a bold front and an officer snappedwith, "Done, sir!"

The judges and the referee had been chosen, the color-writers selected, and Sir Peter had won the draw, choosing, of course, to weigh first, the main being governed by rules devised by the garrison regiments, partly Virginian, partly New York custom. Matches had been made incamera, the first within the half-ounce, and allowing a stag fourounces; round heels were to be used; all cutters, twists, and slashersbarred; the metal was steel, not silver. 

And now the pitters had taken station, Horrock and a wall-eyed Bat-manof the Train, and the birds had billed three times and had been fairlydelivered on the score--a black brass-back of ours against a black-redof the Fifty-fourth. Scarcely a second did they eye one another whencrack! slap! they were at it, wing and gaffle. Suddenly the black-redclosed and held, struck like lightning five or six times, and it wasall over with Sir Peter's Flatbush brass-back, done for in a singleheat. 

"Fast work, " observed Sir Peter calmly, taking snuff, with a pleasantnod to the enemy. 

Then odds on the main flew like lightning, all taken by Sir Peter andO'Neil and a few others of ours, and I biting my lip and fixing my eyeson the roof. Had I not dreaded to hurt Sir Peter I should never, neverhave come. 

We again showed a brass-back and let him run in the pit before cuttinga feather, whereupon Sir Peter rashly laid ten to five and few takers, too, for the Fifty-fourth showed a pyle of five-pounds-three--ashuffler which few fancied. But Lord! the shuffler drummed ourbrass-back to the tune of Sir Daniel O'Day, and though two ounceslight, took just eight minutes to crow for victory. 

Again we showed, this time a duck-wing, and the Fifty-fourth a bluehackle, heavily backed, who proved a wheeler, but it took twentyminutes for him to lay the duck-wing upon the carpet; and we stoodthree to the bad, but game, though the odds on the main were heavilyagainst us. Our fourth, a blinker, blundered to victory; our fifth hunghimself twice to the canvas and finally to the heels of a bewilderedspangle; our sixth, a stag, and a wheeling lunatic at that, gave to theFifty-fourth a bad quarter of an hour, and then, when at the lastmoment our victory seemed certain, was sent flying to eternity in onelast feathered whirlwind, leaving us four to split and four to go, withhopeless odds against us, and Sir Peter calmly booking side-bets onanything that anybody offered. 

When the call came we all rose, leaving the pit by the side-entrance, which gave on the cherry garden, where tables were spread for luncheonand pipes fetched for all who cared not to scorch their lips withSpanish cigars. 

Sir Peter, hard hit, moved about in great good humor, a seed-cake inone hand, a mug of beer in t'other; and who could suppose he stood tolose the thousand guineas he had such need of--and more besides!--somuch more that it turned me cold to think of Duke Street, and how onearth I was to find funds for the bare living, luxuries aside. 

As for O'Neil, the crazy, warm-hearted Irishman went about blusteringfor odds--pure, generous bravado!--and the Fifty-fourth, to theircredit, let him go unharmed, and Harkness, too. As for me, I was veryquiet, holding my peace and my opinions to myself, which was proper, asI had laid not one penny on a feather that day. 

Sir Peter, seeing me sitting alone under a cherry-tree, came strollingover, followed by Horrock. 

"Well, Carus, " he said, smiling blandly, "more dealing with DukeStreet, eh? Pooh! There's balm in Gilead and a few shillings left stillin the Dock-Ward!" He laughed, but I said nothing. "Speak out, man!" hesaid gaily; "what do you read by the pricking of your thumbs?"

"Ask Horrock, " I said bluntly. He turned to the grim-visaged retainer, laying his hand familiarly on the old man's shoulder. 

"Horrock begs me to ride for an even break, " he said; "don't you, Oparagon among pitters?"

"Yes, sir, I do. Ask Mr. Renault what Sir William Johnson's Huron Redsdid to the Patroon's Tartars in every main fought 'twixt Johnstown andAlbany in '72 and '73. "

I looked up, astounded. "Have you four Hurons to show?" I asked SirPeter, incredulously. 

"I have, " he said. 

A desperate hope glimmered in my mind--nay, not merely a hope but afair certainty that ruin could be held at arm's length for a while. Sopossessed was I by absolute faith in Sir William Johnson's strain, called Hurons, that I listened approvingly to Sir Peter's plans for adashing recoup. After all, it was now or never; the gamblers' feverseized me, too, in a vise-like grip. Why should I not win a thousandguineas for my prisoners, risking but a few hundred on such a hazard!

"You will be there, of course, " he said. And after a long silence, Ianswered:

"No, I shall walk in the garden until you finish. The main should beended at five. "

"As you choose, Carus, " he answered pleasantly, glancing at his watch. Then turning, he cried: "Time, gentlemen--and four to ten we split themain!"

"Done with you, Sir Peter!" came the answering shout as from a singlethroat; and Sir Peter, smiling to himself, booked briefly and saunteredtoward the tavern door, old Horrock trotting faithfully at heel. 

I had risen and was nervously pacing the grass under the cherry-trees, miserable, full of bitterness, depressed, already bitterly regrettingthe chance lost, arguing that it was a certainty and no hazard. Yet, deep in my heart, I knew no gentleman can bet on certainty, and wherethere is no certainty there is risk. That risk I had not taken; theprisoners were to gain or suffer nothing. Thinking of these matters Istarted to stroll through the cherry grove, and as I stepped from theshade out upon the sunny lawn the shadow of an advancing figure warnedme, and I looked up to behold a young officer, in a black and greenuniform, crossing my path, his head turned in my direction, his dark, luminous gaze fastened curiously upon me. 

Dazzled somewhat by the sun in my eyes, I peered at him as he passed, noting the strange cut of his regimentals, the silver buttons stampedwith a motto in relief, the curious sword-knot of twisted buck-thongheavily embroidered in silver and scarlet wampum. Wampum? And what wasthat devil's device flashing on button and shoulder-knot?

"Butler's Rangers!"

Slowly I turned to stare; he halted, looking back at me, a slim, graceful figure in forest-green, his own black hair gathered in a club, his dark amber eyes fixed on mine with that veiled yet detached glare Ihad not forgotten. 

"Captain Butler, " I said mechanically. 

Hats in hand, heels together, we bowed low in the sunshine--so low thatour hands on our hilts alone retained the blades in their scabbards, while our hats swept the short grass on the lawn; then, leisurelyerect, once more we stood face to face, a yard of sod betwixt us, thesunshine etching our blue shadows motionless. 

"Mr. Renault, " he said, in that colorless voice he used at times, "Ihad thought to know you, but you are six years older. Time'salchemy"--he hesitated, then with a perfect bow--"refines even thenoblest metal. I trust your health and fortune are all that you coulddesire. Is madam, your mother, well, and your honorable father?"

"I thank you, Captain Butler. "

He looked at me a moment, then with a melancholy smile and a gesturewholly graceful: "It is poor reparation to say that I regret the errorof my Cayugas which committed your house to the flames. "

"The fortune of war, Captain Butler. I trust your home at Butlersburystill survives intact. "

A dull color crept into his pallid cheeks. 

"The house at Butlersbury stands, " he said, "as do Johnson Hall, GuyPark, and old Fort Johnson. We hope erelong to open them again to ourfriends, Mr. Renault. "

"I have understood so, " I said politely. "When do you march fromThendara?"

Again the dark color came into his face. "Sir Frederick Haldimand is ababbler!" he said, between tightening lips. "Never a secret, never aplan, but he must bawl it aloud to all who care to listen, or sound itas he gads about from camp to city--aye, and chatters it to the foresttrees for lack of audience, I suppose. All New York is humming with it, is it not, Mr. Renault?"

"And if it is, what harm?" I said pleasantly. "Who ever heard ofThendara, save as a legend of a lost town somewhere in the wilderness?Who in New York knows where Thendara lies?"

He looked at me with unwinking eyes--the empty stare of a bird of prey. 

"_You_ know, for one, " he said; and his eyes suddenly became piercing. 

I smiled at him without comprehension, and he took the very vaguenessof my smile for acquiescence. 

Like the luminous shadow of summer lightning the flame flickered in hiseyes, and went out, leaving them darkly drowned in melancholy. Hestepped nearer. 

"Let us sit under the trees for a moment--if I am not detaining you, Mr. Renault, " he said in a low, pleasant voice. I bowed. We turned, walking shoulder to shoulder toward the shade of the cherry-trees, nowin full foliage and heavily fruited. With perfect courtesy he halted, inclining his head, a gesture for me to pass before him. We seatedourselves at a rustic table beneath the trees; and I remember the ripecherries which had dropped upon it from the clusters overhead, and how, as we talked, I picked them up, tasting them one by one. 

"I am here, " he began abruptly, "of my own idea. No one, not even SirHenry, is aware that I am in New York. I came from Halifax by the_Gannet_, schooner, landing at Coenties Slip among the fishing-smack intime for breakfast; then to Sir Peter Coleville's, learning he washere--cock-fighting!" A trace of a sneer edged his finely cut nostrils. 

"If you desire concealment, is it wise to wear that uniform?" I asked. 

"I am known on the fighting-line, not in this peaceful garrison of NewYork, " he said haughtily. "We of the landed gentry of Tryon County makeas little of New York as New York makes of us!" A deeper sneer twitchedhis upper lip. "Had I my way, this port should be burned from river toriver, fort, shipping, dock--all, even to the farms outlying on thehills--and the enervated garrison marched out to take the field!" Hemade a violent gesture toward the north. "I should fling every man andgun pell-mell on that rebels' rat-nest called West Point, and uprootand tear it from the mountain flank! I should sweep the Hudson withfire; I should hurl these rotting regiments into Albany and leave it asmoking ember, and I should tread the embers into the red-wet earth!That is the way to make war! But this--" He stared south across themeadows where in the distance the sunlit city lay, windows a-glitter, spires swimming in the blue, and on the bay white sails glimmering offshores of living green. 

"Mr. Renault, " he said, "I am here to submit this plan to Sir HenryClinton. Lord Cornwallis advocated the abandonment of New York lastMay. I am here to urge it. If Sir Henry will approve, then the war endsbefore the snow flies; if he will not, I still shall act my part, andlay the north in ashes so that not one ear of corn may be garnered forthe rebel army, not one grain of wheat be milled, not a truss of hayremain betwixt Johnstown and Saratoga! Nothing in the north butblackened desolation and the silence of annihilation. That is how Imake war. "

"That is your reputation, " I said calmly. 

His smile was ghastly--a laugh without sound, that touched neither eyesnor mouth. 

At that moment I heard cries and laughter and a great babel of voicesfrom the tavern. He rose instantly, I also; the stable-lads werebringing up the horses; the tavern door was flung wide, and out of itpoured the cockers, a turbulent river of scarlet and gold, the noisyvoices and laughter increasing to tumult as the officers mounted withjingle of spur and scabbard, draining the stirrup-cup and hastening totheir duties. 

"By gad, sir!" cried Jamison, turning in his saddle as he passed me, "those Hurons did the trick for Sir Peter. He's split the main, so helpme! and stands to win a fortune. "

And Dr. Carmody, galloping past, waved his hand with a hopeless laugh. "We're cleaned out! cleaned out!" he cried; "that main has beggared thebrigade staff. Damme, he's beggared the entire garrison!"

Others rode by, gaily uproarious in defeat, clean, gallant sportsmenall, saluting misfortune as cheerily and as recklessly as they mighthave greeted victory. 

"Have at thee, buck!" shouted young Caryl, waving his hand as he passedme. "We'll try it again, you villain, if there's life left in ourfasting mess!"

And Helsing, passing at a canter, grinned and beat his gold-lacedbreast in mock despair, shouting back to me: "I'm for Duke Street andMendoza! Dine well, Carus, you who can afford to sup on chicken!"

Then came Sir Peter, cool, debonair, surrounded by a crowd afoot, Horrock at heel, his old eyes dim with joy, his grim mouth set; andafter him two lads leading our horses, and O'Neil and Harkness mounted, curbing the triumph that glittered in their eyes. 

"Yonder comes Sir Peter, " I said to Walter Butler. "Shall I have thehonor of making you known to one another?"

"He has forgotten me, I think, " said Butler slowly, as Sir Peter raisedhis hat in triumphant greeting to me and then included Butler in agraver salute. 

"You have heard the news, Carus?" he asked gaily. 

"I give you joy, " I said. Then, with colorless ceremony, I made themknown to one another, and with greater ceremony they exchanged salutesand compliments--a pair matched in flawless breeding and the usages ofperfect courtesy. 

"I bear a letter, " said Walter Butler, "and have this morning donemyself the honor of waiting upon Lady Coleville and the 'Hon. ElsinGrey. '"

And as Sir Peter acknowledged the courtesy, I looked suddenly at WalterButler, remembering what Elsin Grey had told me. 

"The letter is from General Sir Frederick Haldimand, " he saidpleasantly, "and I fear it bears you news not too agreeable. The Hon. Miss Grey is summoned home, Sir Peter--pending a new campaign. "

"Home!" exclaimed Sir Peter, surprised. "Why, I thought--I had hoped wewere to have her with us until winter. Gad! It is as you say, not tooagreeable news, Captain Butler. Why, she has been the life of the town, sir; she has waked us and set us all a-dancing like yokels at aMay-pole or a ring-around-a-rosy! Split me! Captain Butler, but LadyColeville will be sorry to learn this news--and I, too, sir, and everyman in New York town. "

He looked at me in genuine distress. My face was perfectlyexpressionless. 

"This should hit you hard, Carus, " he said meaningly. Then, withoutseeing, I felt Walter Butler's head slowly turning, and was aware ofhis eyes on me. 

"Come, gentlemen, " said Sir Peter, "the horses are here. Is not thatfine chestnut your mount, Captain Butler? You will ride with us, willyou not? Where is your baggage? At Flocks? I shall send for it--no, sir, I take no excuse. While you are in New York you shall be my guest, Captain Butler. "

And so, Sir Peter naming Butler to O'Neil and Harkness, and salutesbeing decently exchanged, we mounted and cantered off along GreatGeorge Street, Horrock on his hunter bringing up the rear. 

And at every stride of my horse a new misgiving, a deeper distrust ofthis man Butler stirred in my troubled heart. 

CHAPTER IV

SUNSET AND DARK

It was six o'clock in the early evening, the sun still shining, and inthe air a sea-balm most delicious. Sir Peter and Captain Butler hadgone to see Sir Henry, Butler desiring to be presented by so grand apersonage as Sir Peter, I think, through mere vanity; for his own rankand title and his pressing mission should have been sufficientcredentials. Sir Henry Clinton was not too difficult of approach. 

Meanwhile I, finding neither Lady Coleville nor the Hon. Elsin Grey athome, had retired to my chambers to write to Colonel Willett concerningButler's violent designs on the frontier. When I finished I made asealed packet of all papers accumulated, and, seizing hat, snuff-box, and walking-stick, went out into Wall Street, through the dismalarcades of the City Hall, and down to Hanover Square. Opposite Mr. Goelet's Sign of the Golden Key, and next door to Mr. Minshall'sfashionable Looking-Glass Store, was the Silver Box, the shop of Ennisthe Tobacconist, a Boston man in our pay; and it was here that for fouryears I was accustomed to bring the dangerous despatches that should gonorth to his Excellency or to Colonel Willett, passed along frompartizan to partizan and from agent to agent, though who these secrethelpers along the route might be I never knew, only that Ennis chargedhimself with what despatches I brought, and a week or more later theywere at Dobbs Ferry, West Point, or in Albany. John Ennis was therewhen I entered; he bowed his dour and angular New England bow, served acustomer with snuff, bowed him to the door, then returned grinning tome, rubbing his long, lean, dangerous hands upon his apron--hands tothrottle a Tryon County wolf!

"Butler's in town, " he said harshly, through his beak of a nose. "Iguess there's blood to be smelled somewhere in the north when thedog-wolf's abroad at sunup. He came by sloop this morning, " he added, taking the packet from my hands and laying it upon a table in plainsight--the best way to conceal anything. 

"How do you know?" I asked. 

"A Bull's-Head drover whistled it an hour since, " he said carelessly. "That same drover and his mate desire to see you, Mr. Renault. Couldyou, by chance, take the air at dusk--say on Great George Street--untilyou hear a whippoorwill?"

I nodded. 

"You will not fail, then, sir? This drover and his fellow go northto-night, bearing the cross o' fire. "

"I shall not fail them, " I said, drawing a triple roll of guineas frommy pocket. "This money goes to the prison-ships; they are worse offthere than under Cunningham. See to it, Ennis. I shall bring moreto-morrow. "

He winked; then with grimace and circumstance and many a stiff-backedbow conducted me to the door, where I stood a moment, snuff-box inhand, as though testing some new and most delicious brand justpurchased from the Silver Box. 

There were many respectable folk abroad in Hanover Square, throngingthe foot-paths, crowding along the gay shop-windows, officers laggingby the jeweler's show, sober gentlemen clustering about thebook-stalls, ladies returning from their shopping or thehair-dresser's, young bucks, arm in arm, swaggering in and out ofcoffee-house and tavern. 

As I stood there, making pretense to take snuff, I noticed asedan-chair standing before Mrs. Ballin's millinery-shop, and seeingthat the bearers were Lady Coleville's men, I crossed the street. 

As I came up they touched their hats, and at the same moment theshop-door opened and out tripped, not Lady Coleville at all, but theHon. Elsin Grey in the freshest of flowered gowns, wearing a piquantchip hat à la Gunning, with pink ribbons tied under her dainty chin. 

"You!" she cried. "Of all men, to be caught a-raking in Hanover Squarelike some mincing macaroni, peeping into strange sedan-chairs!"

"I knew it was Lady Coleville's chair, " I said, laughing, yet a littlevexed, too. 

"It isn't; it's Mrs. Barry's, " she said. "Our chairs are all at thevarnishers. Now what excuse can you trump up?"

"The bearers are Lady Coleville's, " I said. "Don't be disagreeable. Icame to walk with you. "

"Expecting to meet Rosamund Barry! Thank you, Carus. And I may add thatI have seen little of you since Friday; not that I had noticed yourabsence, but meeting you on your favorite promenade reminded me howrecreant are men. Heigho! and alas! You may hand me to my chair beforeyou leave me to go ogling Broad Street for your Sacharissa. "

I conducted her to the curb in silence, tucking her perfumed skirts inas she seated herself. The bearers resumed the bars, and I, hat underone arm and stick at a fashionable angle, strolled along beside thechair as it proceeded up Wall Street. It was but a step to Broadway. Iopened the chair door and aided her to descend, then dismissed thebearers and walked slowly with her toward the stoop. 

"This silence is truly soothing, " she observed, nose in the air, "butone can not expect everything, Mr. Renault. "

"What is it that you lack?" I asked. 

"A man to talk to, " she said disdainfully. "For goodness sake, Carus, change that sulky face for a brighter mask and find a civil word forme. I do not aspire to a compliment, but, for mercy's sake, saysomething!"

"Will you walk with me a little way?" I inquired stiffly. 

"Walk with you? Oh, what pleasure! Where? On Broadway? On Crown Street?On Queen Street? Or do you prefer Front Street and Old Slip? I wish tobe perfectly agreeable, Carus, and I'll do anything to please you, evento running away with you in an Italian chaise!"

"I may ask you to do that, too, " I said. 

"Ask me, then! Mercy on the man! was there ever so willing a maid? Giveme a moment to fetch a sun-mask and I'm off with you to any revel youplease--short of the Coq d'Or, " she added, with a daring laugh--"and Imight be persuaded to that--as far as the cherry-trees--with _you_, Carus, and let my reputation go hang!"

We had walked on into Broadway and along the foot-path under thelime-trees where the robins were singing that quaint evening melody Ilove, and the pleasant scent of grass and salt breeze mingled inexquisite freshness. 

"I had a dish of tea with some very agreeable people in Queen Street, "she remarked. "Lady Coleville is there still. I took Mrs. Barry's chairto buy me a hat--and how does it become me?" she ended, tipping herhead on one side for my inspection. 

"It is modish, " I replied indifferently. 

"Certainly it is modish, " she said dryly--"a Gunning hat, and cost apenny, too. Oh, Carus, when I think what that husband of mine must payto maintain me----"

"What husband?" I said, startled. 

"Why, _any_ husband!" She made a vague gesture. "Did I say that I hadpicked him out yet, silly? But there must be one some day, I suppose. "

We had strolled as far as St. Paul's and had now returned as far asTrinity. The graves along the north transept of the ruined church weregreen and starred with wild flowers, and we turned into the churchyard, walking very slowly side by side. 

"Elsin, " I began. 

"Ah! the gentleman has found his tongue, " she exclaimed softly. "Speak, Sir Frippon; thy Sacharissa listens. "

"I have only this to ask. Dance with me once to-night, will you?--nay, twice, Elsin?"

She seated herself upon a green mound and looked up at me from underher chip hat. "I have not at all made up my mind, " she said. "CaptainButler is to be there. He may claim every dance that Sir Henry does notclaim. "

"Have you seen him?" I asked sullenly. 

"Mercy, yes! He came at noon while you and Sir Peter were gambling awayyour guineas at the Coq d'Or. "

"He waited upon _you_?"

"He waited on Lady Coleville. I was there. "

"Were you not surprised to see him in New York?"

"Not very"--she considered me with a far-away smile--"not very greatlynor very--agreeably surprised. I have told you his sentiments regardingme. "

"I can not understand, " I said, "what you see in him to fascinate you. "

"Nor I, " she replied so angrily that she startled me. "I thought to-daywhen I met him, Oh, dear! Now I'm to be harrowed with melancholy andpassion, when I was having such an agreeable time! But, Carus, evenwhile I pouted I felt the subtle charm of that very sadness, thestrange, compelling influence of those melancholy eyes. " She sighed andplucked a late violet, drawing the stem slowly between her white teethand staring at the ruined church. 

After a while I said: "Do you regret that you are so soon to leave us?"

"Regret it?" She looked at me thoughtfully. "Carus, " she said, "you arewonderfully attractive to me. I wish you had acquired that air ofgentle melancholy--that poet's pallor which becomes a noblesadness--and I might love you, if you asked me. "

"I'm sad enough at your going, " I said lightly. 

"Truly, are you sorry? And when I am gone will you forget la belleCanadienne? Ah, monsieur, l'amitié est une chose si rare, que, n'eut-elle duré qu'un jour, on doit en respecter jusqu'au souvenir. "

"It is not I who shall forget to respect it, madam, jusqu'au souvenir. "

"Nor I, mon ami. Had I not known that love is at best a painfulpleasure I might have mistaken my happiness with you for something verylike it. "

"You babble of love, " I blurted out, "and you know nothing of it! Whatfoolish whim possesses you to think that fascination Walter Butler hasfor you is love?"

"What is it, then?" she asked, with a little shudder. 

"How do I know? He has the devil's own tenacity, bold black eyes and awell-cut head, and a certain grace of limb and bearing nowiseremarkable. But"--I waved my hand helplessly--"how can a sane manunderstand a woman's preference?--nay, Elsin, I do not even pretend tounderstand _you_. All I know is that our friendship began in an instant, opened to full sweetness like a flower overnight, and, like a flower, isnearly ended now--nearly ended. "

"Not ended; I shall remember. "

"Well, and if we both remember--to what purpose?"

"To what purpose is friendship, Carus, if not to remember when alone?"

I listened, head bent. Then, pursuing my own thoughts aloud: "It is notwise for a maid to plight her troth in secret, I care not for whatreasons. I know something of men; it is a thing no honest man shouldask of any woman. Why do you fear to tell Sir Frederick Haldimand?"

"Captain Butler begged me not to. "

"Why?" I asked sharply. 

"He is poor. You must surely know what the rebels have done--how theircommissioners of sequestration seized land and house from the TryonCounty loyalists. Captain Butler desires me to say nothing until, through his own efforts and by his sword, he has won back his own inthe north. And I consented. Meanwhile, " she added airily, "he has aglove of mine to kiss, I refusing him my hand to weep upon. And so wewait for one another, and pin our faith upon his sword. "

"To wait for him--to plight your troth and wait for him until he andSir John Johnson have come into their own again?"

"Yes, Carus. "

"And then you mean to wed him?"

She was silent. The color ebbed in her cheeks. 

I stood looking at her through the evening light. Behind her, gilded bythe level rays of the sinking sun, a new headstone stood, and on it Iread:

 IN MEMORY OF

 Michael Cresap, First Cap't Of the Rifle Battalions, And Son to Col. Thomas Cresap, Who Departed this Life, Oct. 18, A. D. 1775. 

Cresap, the generous young captain, whose dusty column of Marylandriflemen I myself had seen when but a lad, pouring through BroadalbinBush on the way to Boston siege! This was his grave; and a Tory maid inflowered petticoat and chip hat was seated on the mound a-prattling ofrebels!

"When do you leave us?" I asked grimly. 

"Captain Butler has gone to see Sir Henry to ask for a packet. We sailas soon as may be. "

"Does _he_ go with you?" I demanded, startled. 

"Why, yes--I and my two maids, and Captain Butler. Sir FrederickHaldimand knows. "

"Yes, but he does not know that Captain Butler has presumed--has daredto press a clandestine suit with you!" I retorted angrily. "It does notplease me that you go under such doubtful escort, Elsin. "

"And pray, who are you to please, sir?" she asked in quick displeasure. "You speak of presumption in others, Mr. Renault, and, unsolicited, youoffer an affront to me and to a gentleman who is not here to answer. "

"I wish he were, " I said between my teeth. 

Her fair face hardened. 

"Wishes are very safe, sir, " she said in a low voice. 

At that, suddenly, such a blind anger flooded me that the setting sunswam in my eyes and the blood dinned in ears and brain as though toburst them. At such moments, which are rare with me, I fall silent; andso I stood, while the strange rage shook me, and passed, leaving mecold and very quiet. 

"I think we had best go, " I said. 

She held out her hand. I aided her to rise; and she kept my hand inhers, laying the other over it, and looked up into my eyes. 

"Forgive me, Carus, " she whispered. "No man can be more gallant andmore sweet than you. "

"Forgive me, Elsin. No maid so generous and just as you. "

And that was all, for we crossed the street, and I mounted the stoop ofour house with her, and bowed her in when the great door opened. 

"Are you not coming in?" she asked, lingering in the doorway. 

"No. I shall take the air. "

"But we sup in a few moments. "

"I may sup at the Coq d'Or, " I said. Still she stood there, the windblowing through the doorway fluttering the pink bows tied under herchin--a sweet, wistful face turned up to mine, and the earlycandle-light from the hall sconces painting one rounded cheek withgolden lusters. 

"Have you freely forgiven me, Carus?"

"Yes, freely. You know it. "

"And you will be at the Fort? I shall give you that dance you askto-night, shall I not?"

"If you will. "

There was a silence; she stretched out one hand. Then the door wasclosed and I descended the steps once more, setting my hat on my headand tucking my walking-stick under one arm, prepared to meet my droverfriend, who, Ennis said, desired to speak with me. 

But I had no need to walk out along Great George Street to find mybird; for, as I left Wall Street and swung the corner into Broadway, the husky, impatient whisper of a whippoorwill broke out from the duskamong the ruins of Trinity, and I started and turned, crossing thestreet. Wild birds there were a-plenty in the city, yet thewhippoorwill so seldom came into the streets that the note alone wouldhave attracted me had Ennis not warned me of the signal. 

And so I strolled once more into the churchyard and among the felledtrees which the soldiers had cut down for fire-wood, as they werescorched past hope of future growth; and presently, prowling throughthe dusk among the graves by Lambert Street, I came upon my drover, seated upon a mound, smoking his clay as innocent as any tavern slug inthe sun. 

"Good even, friend, " he said, looking up. "I thought I heard awhippoorwill but now, and being country bred, stole in to listen. Didyou hear it, sir?"

"I thought I did, " said I, amused. "I thought it sang, Pro Gloria inExcelsis----"

"Hush!" whispered the drover, smiling; "sit here beside me and we'lllisten. Perhaps the bird may sing that anthem once again. "

I seated myself on the green mound, and the next moment sprang to myfeet as a shape before me seemed to rise out of the very ground; then, hearing my drover laugh, I resumed my place as the short figure cametoward us. 

"Another drover, " said my companion, "and a famous one, Mr. Renault, for he drove certain wild cattle at a headlong gallop from the pasturesat Saratoga--he and I and another drover they call Dan'l Morgan. Wehave been strolling here among these graves, a-prying for oldfriends--brother drovers. We found one drover's grave--a lad calledCresap--hard by the arch there to the north. "

"Did you know him?" I asked. 

"Yes, lad. I was a herder of his at Dunmore's slaughter-house. I sawhim jailed at Fortress Pitt; I saw him freed, too. And one fine day in'76, a-lolling at my ease in the north, what should I hear but a jollyconch-horn blowing in the forest, and out of it rolled a torrent of menin buckskin, Cresap leading, bound for that famous cattle-drive atBoston town. So I, being by chance in buckskin, and by merest chancebearing a rifle, fell in and joined the merry ranks--I and my youngfriend Cardigan, who is now with certain mounted drovers called, Ithink, Colonel Washington's Dragoons, harrying those Carolina cattleowned by Tarleton. "

He glanced up at his comrade, who stood silently beside him in thedarkness. 

"He, too, was there, Mr. Renault--my fellow drover here, at yourservice. Weasel, remove thy hat and make a bow to Mr. Renault--ourbrother drover. "

The little withered man uncovered with a grace astonishing. So perfectwas his bearing and his bow that I rose instinctively to meet it, andmatch his courtesy with the best I could. 

"When like meets like 'tis a duel of good manners, " said the big droverquietly. "Mr. Renault, you salute a man as gently bred as any man whowears a gilt edge to his hat in County Tryon. I call him the Weaselwith all the reverence with which I say 'your lordship. '"

The Weasel and I exchanged another bow, and I vow he outmatched me, too, in composure, dignity, and grace, and I wondered who he might be. 

"Tempus, " observed the giant drover, "fugits like the devil in thisdawdling world o' sin, as the poet has it--eh, Weasel? So, not eventaking time to ask your pardon for my Latin, sir, I catch Time by thescalplock and add a nick to my gun-stock. Lord, sir! That's no languagefor a peaceful, cattle-driving yokel, is it now? Ah, Mr. Renault, I seeyou suspect us, and we have only to thank God you're not a lobster-backto bawl for the sergeant and his lanthorn. "

"Who are you?" I asked, smiling. 

"Did you ever hear of a vile highwayman called Jack Mount?" he asked, pretending horror. 

"Yes, " I said. 

"You wouldn't shake hands with him, would you?"

"Let's try it, " I replied seriously, holding out my hand. 

He took it with a chuckle, his boyish face wreathed in smiles. "A pursefrom a magistrate here and there, " he muttered--"a Tory magistrate, overfat and proud--what harm, sir? And I never could abide fatmagistrates, Mr. Renault, " he confided in a whisper. "It is strange;you will scarce credit me, sir, when I tell you that when I'm near amagistrate, and particularly when he's fat, and the moon's low over thehills, why, my pistols leap from my belt of their own accord, and Imust snatch them with both hands lest they go flying off like rocketsand explode to do a harm to that same portly magistrate. "

"He does not mean all that, " said the Weasel, laying his wrinkled handaffectionately on Mount's great arm. "He has served nobly, sir, withCresap and with Morgan. "

"But when I'm alone, " sighed Mount, "I'm in very bad company, andmischief follows, sure as a headache follows a tavern revel. I do notmean to stop these magistrates, Mr. Renault, only they _will_ wander onthe highway, under my very pistols, provoking 'em to fly out!" He lookedat me and furtively licked the stem of his clay pipe. 

"So you leave for the north to-night?" I asked, amused. 

"Yes, sir. There's a certain Walter Butler in this town, arrived like ahen-hawk from the clouds, and peep! peep! we downy chicks must scurryto the forest, lad, or there'll be a fine show on the gallows yonderand two good rifles idle in the hills of Tryon. "

"You know Walter Butler?"

"Know him? Yes, sir. I had him at my mercy once--over my rifle-sights!Ah, well--he rode away--and had it not been young Cardigan who stayedmy trigger-finger--But let that pass, too. What is he here for?"

"To ask Sir Henry Clinton's sanction of a plan to burn New York andfling the army on West Point, while he and Sir John Johnson and ColonelRoss strike the grain country in the north and lay it and the frontierin ashes. "

There was a silence, then a quiet laugh from Mount. 

"West Point is safe, I think, " he murmured. 

"But Tryon?" urged the Weasel; "how will it go with Tryon County, Jack?"

Another silence. 

"We'd best be getting back to Willett, " said Mount quietly. "As for me, my errand is done, and the strange, fishy smells of New York townstifle me. I'm stale and timid, and I like not the shape of the gallowsyonder. My health requires the half-light of the woods, Mr. Renault, and the friendly shadows which lie at hand like rat-holes in a granary. I've drunk all the ale at the Bull's-Head--weak stuff it was--andthey've sent for more, but I can't wait. So we're off to the northto-night, friend, and we'll presently rinse our throats of this saltwind, which truly inspires a noble thirst, yet tells nothing to a nosemade to sniff the inland breezes. "

He held out his hand, saying, "So you can learn no news of this placecalled Thendara?"

"I may learn yet. Walter Butler said to-day that I knew it. Yet I cannot recall anything save the name. Is it Delaware? And yet I know itmust be Iroquois, too. "

"It might be Cayuga, for all I know, " he said. "I never learned theircursed jargon and never mean to. My business is to stop theirforest-loping--and I do when I can. " He spoke bitterly, like thatcertain class of forest-runners who never spare an Indian, neverunderstand that anything but evil can come of any blood but white. Withthem argument is lost, so I said nothing. 

"Have you anything for Colonel Willett?" he asked, after a pause. 

"Tell him that I sent despatches this very day. Tell him of Butler'svisit here, and of his present plans. If I can learn where thisThendara lies I will write him at once. That is all, I think. "

I shook their hands, one by one. 

"Have a care, sir, " warned the Weasel as we parted. "This Walter Butleris a great villain, and, like all knaves, suspicious. If he once shouldharbor misgivings concerning you, he would never leave your trail untilhe had you at his mercy. We know him, Jack and I. And I say, God keepyou from that man's enmity or suspicion. Good-by, Mr. Renault. "

I retained his hand, gazing earnestly into his faded, kindly eyes. 

"Do you know aught reflecting on his honor?" I asked. 

"I know of Cherry Valley, " he replied simply. 

"Yes; but I mean his dealings with men in time of peace. Is heupright?"

"He is so considered, though they would have hanged him for a spy inAlbany in '78-'79, had not young Lafayette taken pity on him and hadhim removed from jail to a private house, he pleading illness. Onceuncaged, he gnawed through, and was off to the Canadas in no time, swearing to repay tenfold every moment's misery he spent in jail. Hedid repay--at Cherry Valley. Think, sir, what bloody ghosts must haunthis couch at night--unless he be all demon and not human at all, assome aver. Yet he has a wife, they say----"

"What!"

"He has a wife, " repeated Mount--"or a mistress. It's all one to him. "

"Where?" I asked quietly. 

"She was at Guy Park, the Oneidas told me; and when Sullivan moved onCatharinestown she fled with all that Tory rabble, they say, toButlersbury, and from thence to the north--God knows where! I saw heronce; she is French, I think--and very young--a beauty, sir, with hairlike midnight, and two black stars for eyes. I have seen an Oneida girlwith such eyes. " He shrugged his shoulders. "Walter Butler makes littleof women--like Sir John Johnson, " he added in disgust. 

I was silent. 

"We go north by Valentine's and North Castle, the Albany road beingunhealthy traveling at night, " said Mount, with a grin; "and I think, Cade, we'd best pull foot. I trust, Mr. Renault, that you may not hearof our being taken and hung to disgrace any friends of ours. Come, Cade, old friend, our fair accomplice, the moon, is hid, so lift thylittle legs and trot! Au large!"

They pulled off their hats with a gay flourish, turned, and plungedshoulder-deep into the weeds. 

And so they left me, creeping away through the low foliage intoGreenwich Street, while I, rousing myself, turned my steps toward home. I had no desire to sup; my appetite's edge had been turned by what Iheard concerning Walter Butler. Passing slowly through the graveyardand skirting the burned church, I entered Broadway, where here andthere a street-lamp was burning. Few people strolled under thelime-trees; cats prowled and courted and fought in the gutters, scattering in silent, shadowy flight before me as I crossed the streetto the great house; and so buried in meditation was I that I presentlyfound myself in my own room, and could not remember how I passed thedoor or mounted the long stairway to my chambers. 

Dennis came to do my hair, but I drove him out with boots in a sudden, petty fury new to my nature. Indeed, lying there in my stuffedarmchair, I scarcely knew myself, so strangely sad and sullen ran mythoughts--not thoughts, either, for at first I followed no definitetrain, but a certain irritable despondency clothed me, and triflesenraged me, leaving me bitter and sick at heart, bearing a weight ofapprehension concerning nothing at all. 

Oh, for a week of liberty from this pit of intrigue! Oh, for a day'sfreedom to ride like those blue dragoons of Heath I had seen along theHudson! Oh, to be free to dog-trot back to the north with those twogallant scamps of Morgan, and wear a hunting-shirt once more, and laythe long brown rifle level in this new quarrel coming soon betweenthese Butlers and these Johnsons and our yeomanry of County Tryon!

"By God!" I muttered, "I care not if they take me, for I'm sick ofspying and lying, so let them hoist me out upon that leafless treewhere better men have swung, and have done with the wretched businessonce for all!" Which I meant not, and was silly to fume, and thankless, too, to anger the Almighty with ingratitude for His long and mostmiraculous protection. But I was in a foul humor with the world andmyself, and I knew not what ailed me, either. True, the insolence ofthat libertine, Walter Butler, affronted me, and it gave me a sourpleasure to think how I should quiet his swagger with one plain wordaside. 

Following this lead, I fell to thinking in earnest. What would itmean--a quarrel? Dare he deny the charge? No; I should command, and heobey, and I'd send him slinking north by the same accursed schoonerthat brought him; and Elsin Grey should go when she pleased, escortedby a proper retinue. But I'd make no noise about it--not a word to settongues wagging and eyes peeping--for Elsin's sake. Lord! the sillymaid, to steer so near the breakers and destruction!

And what then? Well, I should never see her again, once she was safeamong her kin in the Canadas. And she was doubtless the fairest woman Ihad ever looked upon--but light--not in an evil sense, God wot! butprone to impulse and caprice--a kitten, soft as silk, now staring atthe world out of two limpid eyes, now frisking after breeze-blownrose-leaves. A man may admire such a child, nay, learn to love herdearly, in a way most innocent. But love! She did not know its meaning, and how could she inspire it in a man of the world. No, I did not loveher--could not love a maid, unripe and passionless, and overpert attimes, flouting a man like me with her airs and vapors and her insolentlids and lashes. Lord! but she carried it high-handed with me at times, plaguing me, teasing, pouting when my attention wandered midway in thepretty babble with which she condescended to entertain me. And with allthat--and after all is said--there was something in me that warmed toher--perhaps the shadow of kinship--perhaps because of her utterignorance of all she prated of so wisely. Her very crudity touched thechord of chivalry which is in all men, strung tight or loose, answeringto a touch or a blow, but always answering in some faint degree, Ithink. Yet, if this is so, how could Walter Butler find it in his heartto trouble her?

That he meant her real evil I did not credit, she being what she was. Doubtless he hoped to find some means of ridding him of a wife nolonger loved; there were laws complacent for that sort of work. Yet, grant him free, how could he find it in his heart to cherish passionfor a child? He was no boy--this pallid rake of thirty-five--thismelancholy squire of dames who, ere he was twenty, had left a trail inAlbany and Tryon none too savory, if wide report be credited--he andSir John Johnson!--as pretty a brace of libertines as one might findeven in that rotten town of London. 

Well, I would send him on his business without noise or scandal, andI'd hold a séance, too, with Mistress Elsin, wherein a curtain-lectureshould be read, kindly, gravely, but with firmness fitting!

I lay back, stretching out my legs luxuriously, pleasantlycontemplating the stern yet kindly rôle I was to play: first send himskulking, next enact the solemn father to this foolish maid. Then, admonishing and smiling forgiveness in one breath, retire as gravely asI entered--a highly interesting figure, magnanimous and moral----

A rapping at my chamber-door aroused me disagreeably from thisflattering rhapsody. 

"Enter!" I said ungraciously, and lay back, frowning to see there inthe flesh the man whose punishment I had been complacently selecting. 

"Mr. Renault, " he said, "am I overbold in this intrusion on yourprivacy? Pray, sir, command me, for my business must await yourpleasure. "

I bowed, rising, and pointing to a chair. "It is business, then, notpleasure, as I take it, Captain Butler, that permits me to receiveyou?"

"The business and the pleasure both are mine, Mr. Renault, " he said, which was stilted enough to be civil. "The business, sir, is this: SirHenry Clinton received me like a gentleman, but as soon as Sir Peterhad retired he listened to me as though I were demented when I exposedmy plan to burn New York and take the field. I say he used me withscant civility, and bowed me out, like the gross boor he is!"

"He is commander-in-chief, Mr. Butler. "

"What do I care!" burst out Butler, his dark eyes a golden blaze. "Am Inot an Ormond-Butler? Why should a Clinton affront an Ormond-Butler? ByHeaven! I must swallow his airs and his stares and his shrugs becausehe is my superior; but I may one day rise in military rank as high ashe--and I shall do so, mark me well, Mr. Renault!--and when I am nearenough in the tinseled hierarchy to reach him at thirty paces I shalluse the privilege, by God!"

"There are, " said I blandly, "many subalterns on his staff who mightserve your present purpose, Captain Butler. "

"No, no, " he said impatiently, his dark eyes wandering about thechamber, "I have too much at stake to call out fledglings for a sop toinjured pride. No, Mr. Renault, I shall first take vengeance for adeeper wrong--and the north lies like an unreaped harvest for thesickle that Death and I shall set a-swinging there. "

I bent my head, meditating; then looking up:

"You say I know where this Thendara lies?"

"Yes, " he answered sullenly. "You know as well as I do _what is written_in the Book of Rites. "

At first his words rang meaningless, then far in my memory a voicecalled faintly, and a pale ray of light grew through the darkenedchambers of my brain. And now I knew, now I remembered, now Iunderstood where that lost town must lie--the town of Thendara, lostever and forever, only to be forever found again as long as the darkConfederacy should endure. 

Awed, I sat in silence; and he turned his gloomy eyes now on me, now onthe darkened window, gnawing his lip in savage retrospection. 

Instantly I was aware that he doubted me, and why. I looked up at him, astounded; he lifted his brooding head and I made a rapid sign, sayingin the Mohawk tongue: "Karon-ta-Ke?--at the Tree?"

"Karon-ta-Kowa-Kon--at the great tree. Sat-Kah-tos--thou seest. Therelies the lost town of Thendara. And, save for the council, where youand I have a Wolf's clan-right, no living soul could know what thatword Thendara means. God help the Oneida who betrays!"

"Since when and by what nation have _you_ been raised up to sit in thecouncil of condolence?" I asked haughtily; for, strange as it may appearto those who know not what it means to wear the Oneida clan-mark ofnobility, I, clean-blooded and white-skinned, was as fiercely proud ofthis Iroquois honor as any peer of England newly invested with thegarter. And it was strange, too, for I was but a lad when chosen for themystic rite; but never except once--the day before I left the north toserve his Excellency's purpose in New York--had I been present when thatmost solemn rite was held, and the long roll of dead heroes called inhonor of the Great League's founder, Hiawatha. 

And so, though I am pure white in blood and bone and every instinct, and having nigh forgotten that I wore the Wolf--and, too, the LongHouse being divided and I siding with the Oneidas, and so at civil warwith the shattered league that served King George--yet I turned onWalter Butler as a Mohawk might turn upon a Delaware, scornfullyquestioning his credentials, demanding his right to speak as one whohad heard the roll-call of those Immortals who founded the "GreatPeace" three hundred years ago. 

"The Delawares named me, and the council took me, " he said with perfectcalmness. "The Delaware nation mourned their dead; and now I sit forthe Wolf Clan--my elder brother, Renault. "

"A Delaware clan is not named in the Rite, " I said coldly--"nor isthere kinship between us because you are adopted by the Delawares. I amaware that clanship knows no nations; and I, an Oneida Wolf, am brotherto a Cayuga Wolf; but I am not brother to you. "

"And why not to the twin clan of my adopted nation?" he asked angrily. 

"Yours is a cleft ensign and a double clan, " I sneered; "which are you, Gray Wolf or Yellow Wolf?"

"Yellow, " he said, struggling to keep his temper; "and if we Delawaresof the Wolf-Clan are not named in the Book of Rites, nevertheless wesit as ensigns among the noble, and on the same side of thecouncil-lodge as your proud Oneidas. We have three in the council aswell as you, Mr. Renault. If you were a Mohawk I should hold my peace, but a Delaware may answer an Oneida. And so I answer you, sir. "

How strange it seems now--we two white men, gentlemen of quality, completely oblivious to blood, birth, tradition, breeding--our primalallegiance, our very individualities sunk in the mystical freemasonryof a savage tie which bound us to the two nations we assumed to speakfor, Oneida and Delaware--two nations of the great Confederacy of theIroquois that had adopted us, investing us with that clan nobility ofwhich we bore the ensign. 

And we were in deadly earnest, too, standing proudly, fiercely, for ourprerogatives; he already doubly suspicious of me because the Oneidanation which had adopted me stood for the rebel cause, yet, in hismealy-mouthed way, assuming that by virtue of Wolf clanship, as well asby that sentiment he supposed was loyalty to the King, I would donothing to disrupt the council which I now knew must decide upon theannihilation of the Oneida nation, as well as upon the raid hecontemplated. 

"Do you imagine that I shall sit with head averted while four nationsand your Delawares combine to plan the murder of my Oneidas?" Idemanded passionately. "When the council sits at Thendara I shall senda belt to every clan in the Oneida nation, and I care not who knowsit!"

He rose, pale and menacing. "Mr. Renault, " he said, "do you understandthat a word from you would be a treason to the King? You can be aclansman of the Wolf and at the same time be loyal to the King and tothe Iroquois Confederacy; but you can not send a single string ofwampum to the Oneidas and be either loyal to the Six Nations or to yourKing. The Oneidas are marked for punishment; the frontier isdoomed--doomed, even though this frittering commander in New York willneither aid me nor his King. A word of warning to the Oneidas is awarning to the rebels. And that, sir, I can not contemplate, and youmust shrink from. "

"Do you deceive yourself that I shall stand silent and see the Oneidanation ruined?" I asked between my teeth. 

"Are you Oneida, or are you a British subject of King George? Are youan Iroquois renegade of the renegade Oneida nation, or are you first ofall an Iroquois of the Wolf-Clan? As a white man, you are the King'ssubject; as an Iroquois, you are still his subject. As an Oneida only, you must be as black a rebel as George Washington himself. That is thelimpid logic of the matter, Mr. Renault. A belt to the Oneidas, and youbecome traitor to the Confederacy and a traitor to your King. And that, I say, you can not contemplate!"

I fairly ground my teeth, subduing the rage and contempt that shook me. "Since when, Captain Butler, " I sneered, "have the Oneidas learned toswallow Delaware threats? By God, sir, the oldest man among the councilcan not remember when a Delaware dared speak without permission of anIroquois! As an Iroquois and an Oneida, I bid the Delawares to speakonly when addressed. But as a white man, I answer you that I require noinstruction concerning my conduct, and shall merely thank you for yourgood intentions and your kind advice, which is the more generousbecause unsolicited and wholly undesired!"

Again that menacing glare came into his eyes as he stood staring at me. But I cared not; he was not my guest, and he had outraged no roof ofmine that the law of hospitality must close my mouth lest I betray thesalt he had eaten within my walls. 

"I am thinking, " he said slowly, "that we did well to burn a certainhouse in Tryon Bush. "

"Think as you please, Captain Butler, " I said, bowing. "The door swingsopen yonder for your convenience. "

He surveyed me scornfully. "I trust, " he said pleasantly, "to resumethis discussion at a time more opportune. "

"That also shall be at your convenience, " I said. Suddenly such aloathing for the man came over me that I could scarce return his saluteand maintain that courteous calm which challenged men must wear at sucha moment. 

He went away; and I, pacing my chamber lightly, whistled for Dennis, and when he came bade him curl and frizz and powder and perfume me ashe had never done before. So to my bath, and then to court the razor, lathered cheek and chin, nose in the air, counting the posies on thewall, as I always did while Dennis shaved me of the beard I fondlyfeared might one day suddenly appear. 

And all the while, singing in my ears, I heard the meaning phrase heused at parting. Challenged? Not quite, but threatened with achallenge. The cards were mine to play--a pretty hand, with here andthere a trump. Could I meet him and serve my country best? Aye, if Ikilled him. And, strangely, I never thought that he might kill me; Ionly weighed the chances. If I killed him he could not blab and dangerme with hints of meddling or of rank disloyalty; but if I only maimedhim he would never rest until suspicious eyes must make my missionuseless. Suddenly I was aware that I had been a fool to anger him, if Iwished to stay here in New York; nay, it was patent that unless Ikilled him he must one day work a mischief to our cause through me. Asneaking and unworthy happiness crept slowly over me, knowing that oncemy mission terminated here I was free to hoist true colors, free tobear arms, free to maintain openly the cause I had labored for so longin secret. No more mole's work a-burrowing into darkness for a scrap tostay my starving country's maw; no more slinking, listening, playingthe stupid indifferent!

And all the while my conscience was at work, urging me to repair thedamage my forgetful passion had wrought, urging me to heal the breachwith Butler, using what skill I might command, so that I could stayhere where his Excellency had set me, plying my abhorred trade inuseful, unendurable obscurity. 

It was a battle now 'twixt pride and conscience, 'twixt fierce desireand a loathed duty--doubly detested since I had spied a way to freedomand had half tasted a whiff of good free air, untainted by deception. 

"O Lord!" I groaned within myself, "will no one set me free of this pitof intrigue and corruption in which I'm doomed to lurk? Must I, inloyalty to his Excellency, repair this fault--go patch up all withButler, and deceive him so that his hawk's eyes and forked tongue maynot set folk a-watching this house sidewise?"

But while Dennis's irons were in my hair I thought: "Nevertheless, Imust send a belt to our allies, the Oneidas; and then I dare not stay!Oh, joy!"

But the joy was soon dashed. My belt must go first to Colonel Willett, and then to his Excellency, and it might be that he would judge it bestto let the Oneidas fight their own battles and so decline to send mybelt. 

By the time I had arrived so far in my mental argument Dennis hadcurled, powdered, and tied my hair in the most fashionable manner, using a black flamboyant ribbon for the clubbed queue, a pearl-graypowder à la Rochambeau; but I was not foolish enough to permit him topass a diamond pin into my hair, for I had once seen that fashionaffected by Murray, Earl of Dunmore, that Royal Governor of Virginiawho had laid Norfolk in ashes out of pure vindictiveness. 

My costume I shall describe, not, I hope, from any unworthy vanity, butbecause I love beautiful things. Therefore, for the pleasure of otherswho also admire, and prompted alone by a desire to gratify, I neitherseek nor require excuses for recalling what I wore that night at theArtillery ball. The lace at the stock was tied full and fastened withbrilliants; the coat of ivory silk, heavily embroidered with goldenfiligree, fell over a waistcoat of clouded ivory and gold mesh, fashionably short, and made by Thorne. My breeches were like the coat, ivory silk, buckled with gold; the stockings were white silk, a bunchof ribbon caught by the jeweled buckles at either knee; and upon mydouble-channeled pumps, stitched by Bass, buckles of plain dull gold. There was blond lace at throat and cuff. I confess that, although I didnot wear two watches, a great bunch of seals dangled from the fob; andthe small three-cornered French hat I tucked beneath my arm was lacedlike a Nivernois, and dressed and cocked by the most fashionable hatterin Hanover Square. 

The mirror before which I stood was but half long enough, so I badeDennis place it upon the floor, whence it should reflect my legs andgilded court-sword. Pleased, I obtained several agreeable views of mycostume, Dennis holding two mirrors for me while I pondered, hesitatingwhere to place the single patch of black. 

"Am I fine, Dennis?" I asked. 

"Now God be good to the ladies, sir!" he said, so seriously that Ilaughed like a boy, whisked out my sword, and made a pass at mymirrored throat. 

"At all events, " I thought, "I'll be handsomely clothed if there's ascratch-quarrel with Walter Butler--which God avert!" Then for thefirst time it occurred to me that it might not be Walter Butler, but Imyself, lying stretched on the lawn behind the Coq d'Or, and I wascomforted to know that, however low misfortune might lay me, I shouldbe clothed suitably and as befitted a Renault. 

CHAPTER V

THE ARTILLERY BALL

When I descended from my chamber to the south drawing-room I foundthere a respectable company of gentlemen assembled, awaiting the ladieswho had not yet appeared. First I greeted Sir Henry Clinton, who had atthat moment entered, followed by his staff and by two glitteringofficers of his Seventh Light Dragoons. He appeared pale and worn, hiseyes somewhat inflamed from overstudy by candle-light, but he spoke tome pleasantly, as did Oliver De Lancey, the Adjutant-General, who hadsucceeded poor young André--an agreeable and accomplished gentleman, and very smart in his brilliant uniform of scarlet loaded with stiffgold. 

O'Neil, in his gay dress of the Seventeenth Dragoons, and Harkness, wearing similar regimentals, were overflushed and frolicksome, no doubthaving already begun their celebration for the victory of the Flatbushbirds, which they had backed so fortunately at the Coq d'Or. Sir Peter, too, was in mischievous good spirits, examining my very splendidcostume as though he had not chosen it for me at his own tailor's. 

"Gad, Carus!" he exclaimed, "has his Majesty appointed a viceroy inNorth America--or is it the return of that Solomon whose subjects rulethe Dock Ward still?"

O'Neil and Harkness, too, were merry, making pretense that my glitterset them blinking; but the grave, gray visage of Sir Henry, and hisrestless pacing of the polished floor, gave us all pause; andpresently, as by common accord, voices around him dropped to lowertones, and we spoke together under breath, watching askance thecommander-in-chief, who now stood, head on his jeweled breast, handsclasped loosely behind his back. 

"Sir Peter, " he said, looking up with a forced laugh, "I haveirritating news. The rebel dragoons are foraging within six miles ofour lines at Kingsbridge. "

For a month we here in New York had become habituated to alarms. We hadbeen warned to expect the French fleet; we had known that hisExcellency was at Dobbs Ferry, with quarters at Valentine's; we hadseen, day by day, the northern lines strengthened, new guns mounted onthe forts and batteries, new regiments arrive, constant alarms for themilitia, and the city companies under arms, marching up Murray Hill, only, like that celebrated army of a certain King of France, to marchdown again with great racket of drums and overfierce officers noisilyshouting commands. But even I had not understood how near to us thesiege had drawn, closing in steadily, inch by inch, from the greenWestchester hills. 

A little thrill shot through me as I noted the newer, deeper linesetched in Sir Henry's pallid face, and the grave silence of De Lancey, as he stood by the window, arms folded, eying his superior underknitted brows. 

"Why not march out, bands playing?" suggested Sir Peter gaily. 

"By God, we may do that yet to the tune they choose for us!" blurtedout Sir Henry. 

"I meant an assault, " said Sir Peter, the smile fading from hishandsome face. 

"I know what you meant, " returned Sir Henry wearily. "But that is whatthey wish. I haven't the men, gentlemen. "

There was a silence. He stood there, swaying slowly to and fro on hispolished heels, buried in reflection; but I, who stood a little to oneside, could see his fingers clasped loosely behind his back, nervouslyworking and picking at one another. 

"What do they expect?" he said suddenly, lifting his head but lookingat no one--"what do they expect of me in England? I have not twelvethousand effectives, and of these not nine thousand fit for duty. _They_have eleven thousand, counting the French, not a dozen miles north ofus. Suppose I attack? Suppose I beat them? They have but a mile to fallback, and they are stronger posted than before. I can not pass theHarlem with any chance of remaining, unless I leave here in New York agarrison of at least six thousand regulars. This gives me but threethousand regulars for a sortie. " He moved his head slowly, his eyestraveled from one to another with that heavy, dazed expression which sawnothing. 

"Thirty thousand men could not now force Fordham Heights--and but asingle bridge left across the Harlem. To boat it means to be beaten indetail. I tell you, gentlemen, that the only chance I might have in anattempt upon any part of Washington's army must be if he advances. Informal council, Generals Kniphausen, Birch, and Robertson sustain me;and, believing I am right, I am prepared to suffer injustice andcalumny in silence from my detractors here in New York and at home. "

His heavy eyes hardened; a flash lighted them, and he turned to SirPeter, adding:

"I have listened to a very strange proposition from the gentleman youpresented to me, Sir Peter. His ideas of civilized warfare and mine donot run in like channels. "

"So I should imagine, " replied Sir Peter dryly. "But he is my guest, and at his pressing solicitation I went with him to wait upon you. "

Sir Henry smiled, for Sir Peter had spoken very distinctly, thoughwithout heat. 

"My dear friend, " said the general gently, "are you to blame for theviolent views of this gentleman who so--ah--_distinguished_ himself atCherry Valley?"

A sour grimace stamped the visage of every officer present; the name ofCherry Valley was not pleasant to New York ears. 

At that moment Walter Butler entered, halted on the threshold, glancinghaughtily around him, advanced amid absolute silence, made his bow toSir Peter, turned and rendered a perfect salute to Sir Henry, then, asSir Peter quietly named him to every man present, greeted each withceremony and a graceful reserve that could not but stamp him as agentleman of quality and breeding. 

To me, above all, was his attitude faultless; and I, relinquishing to atyrant conscience all hopes of profiting by my blunder in angering him, and giving up all hopes of a duel and consequently of freedom from myhateful business in New York, swallowed pride and repulsion at a singlegulp, and crossed the room to where he stood alone, quite at his easeamid the conversation which excluded him. 

"Mr. Butler, " I said, "I spoke hastily and thoughtlessly an hour since. I come to say so. "

He bowed instantly, regarding me with curious eyes. 

"I know not how to make further amends, " I began, but he waved his handwith peculiar grace, a melancholy smile on his pale visage. 

"I only trust, Mr. Renault, that you may one day understand me better. No amends are necessary. I assure you that I shall endeavor to soconduct that in future neither you nor any man may misapprehend mymotives. " He glanced coolly across at Sir Henry, then very pleasantlyspoke of the coming rout at the Fort, expressing pleasure in gaiety anddancing. 

"I love music, too, " he said thoughtfully, "but have heard little for ayear save the bellow of conch-horns from the rebel riflemen of Morgan'scorps. "

Mr. De Lancey had come up, moved by the inbred courtesy whichdistinguished not Sir Henry, who ostentatiously held Sir Peter inforced consultation, his shoulder turned to Walter Butler. And, of thetwain, Mr. Butler cut the better figure, and spite of his truecharacter, I was secretly gratified to see how our Tryon County gentrysuffered nothing in comparison of savoir faire with the best thatEngland sent us. Courtesy to an enemy--that is a creed no gentleman canrenounce save with his title. I speak not of disputes in hot blood, butof a chance meeting upon neutral ground; and Sir Henry was no credit tohis title and his country in his treatment there of Walter Butler. 

One by one all spoke to Mr. Butler; laughter among us broke out as winewas served and compliments exchanged. 

"The hardest lesson man is born to is that lesson which teaches him toawait the dressing of his lady, " said De Lancey. 

"Aye, and await it, too, without impatience!" said Captain Harkness. 

"And in perfect good-humor, " echoed De Lancey gravely. O'Neil sat downat the piano and played "The World Turned Upside-Down, " all driftinginto the singing, voice after voice; and the beauty of Walter Butler'svoice struck all, so that presently, one by one, we fell silent, and healone carried the quaint old melody to its end. 

"I have a guitar hereabouts, " blurted out Sir Peter, motioning aservant. 

The instrument was brought, and Walter Butler received it without falsemodesty or wearying protestation, and, touching it dreamily, he sang:

 "Ninon! Ninon! Que fais-tu de la vie? L'heure s'enfuit, le jour succède au jour, Rose, ce soir--demain flétrie Comment vis-tu, toi qui n'as pas d'amour?

 * * *

 Ouvrez-vous, jeunes fleurs Si la mort vous enlève, La vie est un sommeil, l'amour en est le rêve!"

Sad and sweet the song faded, lingering like perfume, as the deepconcord of the strings died out. All were moved. We pressed him to singmore, and he sang what we desired in perfect taste and with asimplicity that fascinated all. 

I, too, stood motionless under the spell, yet struggling to think ofwhat I had heard of the nearness of his Excellency to New York, and howI might get word to him at once concerning the Oneidas' danger and theproposed attempt upon the frontier granaries. The ladies had as yetgiven no sign of readiness; all present, even Sir Henry, stood within acircle around Walter Butler. So I stepped quietly into the hallway andhastened up the stairs to my chamber, which I locked first, then seizedpaper and quill and fell to scribbling:

 "TO HIS EXCELLENCY, GEN'L WASHINGTON:

 "_Sir_--I regret to report that, through thoughtlessness and inadvertence, I have made a personal enemy of Captain Walter Butler of the Rangers, who is now here on a mission to enlist the aid of Sir Henry Clinton in a new attempt on the frontier. His purpose in this enterprise is to ruin our granaries, punish the Oneidas friendly to us, and, if aided from below, seize Albany, or at least Johnstown, Caughnawaga, and Schenectady. Sir John Johnson, Major Ross, and Captain Butler are preparing to gather at Niagara Fort. They expect to place a strong, swift force in the field--Rangers, Greens, Hessians, Regulars, and partizans, not counting Brant's Iroquois of the Seneca, Cayuga, and Mohawk nations. 

 "The trysting-place is named as Thendara. Only an Iroquois, adopted or native, can understand how Thendara is to be found. It is a town that has no existence--a fabled town that has existed and will exist again, but does not now exist. It is a mystic term used in council, and understood only by those clan ensigns present at the Rite of Condolence. At a federal council of the Five Nations, at a certain instant in the ceremonies, that spot which for a week shall be chosen to represent the legendary and lost town of Thendara, is designated to the clan attestants. 

 "Now, sir, as our allies the Oneidas dare not answer to a belt summons for federal council, there is no one who can discover for you the location of the trysting-spot, Thendara. I, however, am an Oneida councilor, having conformed to the law of descent by adoption; and having been raised up to ensign by the Wolf-Clan of the Oneida Nation, beg leave to place my poor services at your Excellency's disposal. There may be a chance that I return alive; and you, sir, are to judge whether any attempt of mine to answer the Iroquois belt, which surely I shall receive, is worth your honorable consideration. In the meanwhile I am sending copies of this letter to Colonel Willett and to Gen'l Schuyler. "

I hastily signed, seized more writing-paper, and fell to copyingfuriously. And at length it was accomplished, and I wrapped up theletters in a box of snuff, tied and sealed the packet, and calledDennis. 

"Take this snuff back to Ennis, in Hanover Square, " I said peevishly, "and inform him that Mr. Renault desires a better quality. "

My servant took the box and hastened away. I stood an instant, listening. Walter Butler was still singing. I cast my eyes about, picked up a half-written sheet I had discarded for fault of blots, crumpled it, and reached for a candle to burn it. But at that instant Iheard the voices of the ladies on the landing below, so quickly openingmy wainscot niche I thrust the dangerous paper within, closed thepanel, and hastened away down-stairs to avoid comment for my absence. 

In the merry company now assembled below I could scarcely have beenmissed, I think, for the Italian chaises had but just that momentappeared to bear us away to the Fort, and the gentlemen were clusteredabout Lady Coleville, who, encircled by a laughing bevy of prettywomen, was designating chaise-partners, reading from a list she held inher jeweled hands. Those already allotted to one another had movedapart, standing two and two, and as I entered the room I saw WalterButler give his arm to Rosamund Barry at Lady Coleville's command, afixed smile hiding his disappointment, which turned to a white grimaceas Lady Coleville ended with: "Carus, I entrust to your escort the Hon. Elsin Grey, and if you dare to run off with her there are some twentycourt-swords ready here to ask the reason why. Sir Henry, will you takeme as your penance?"

"Now, gentlemen, " cried Sir Peter gaily, "the chaises are here; andplease to remember that there is no Kissing-Bridge between Wall Streetand the Battery. "

Elsin Grey turned to me, laying her soft white hand on mine. 

"Did you hear Mr. Butler sing?" she whispered. "Is it not divine enoughto steal one's heart away?"

"He sings well, " I said, gazing in wonder at her ball-gown--paleturquoise silk, with a stomacher of solid brilliants and petticoat ofblue and silver. "Elsin, I think I never saw so beautiful a maid in allmy life, nor a beautiful gown so nobly borne. "

"Do you really think so?" she asked, delighted at my bluntness. "Andyou, too, Carus--why, you are like a radiant one from the sky! I haveever thought you handsome, but not as flawless as you now revealyourself. Lord! we should cut a swathe to-night, you and I, sir, blinding all eyes in our proper glitter. I could dance all night, andall day too! I never felt so light, so gay, so eager, so reckless. I'mquivering with delight, Carus, from throat to knee; and, for the rest, my head is humming with the devil's tattoo and my feet keeping time. "

She raised the hem of her petticoat a hand's breadth, and tapped thefloor with one little foot--a trifle only. "That ballet figure that wedid at Sir Henry's--do you remember?--and the heat of the ballroom, andthe French red running from the women's cheeks? To-night is perfect, cool and fragrant. I shall dance until I die, and go up to heaven inone high, maddened whirl--zip!--like a burning soul!"

We were descending the stoop now. Our chaise stood ready. I placed herand followed, and away we rolled down Broadway. 

"Am I to have two dances?" I asked. 

"Two? Why, you blessed man, you may have twenty!"

She turned to me, eyes sparkling, fan half spread, a picture ofexquisite youth and beauty. Her jewels flashed in the chaise-lamps, herneck and shoulders glowed clear and softly fair. 

"Is that French red on lip and cheek?" I asked, to tease her. 

"If there were a certain sort of bridge betwixt Wall Street and theFort you might find out without asking, " she said, looking me daringlyin the eyes. "Lacking that same bridge, you have another bridge andanother problem, Mr. Renault. "

"For lack of a Kissing-Bridge I must solve the _pons asinorum_, I see, "said I, imprisoning her hands. There was a delicate hint of a struggle, a little cry, and I had kissed her. Breathless she looked at me; thesmile grew fixed on her red lips. 

"Your experience in such trifles is a blessing to the untaught, " shesaid. "You have not crumpled a ribbon. Truly, Carus, only long andintense devotion to the art could turn you out a perfect master. "

"My compliments to you, Elsin; I take no credit that your gown issmooth and the lace unruffled. "

"Thank you; but if you mean that I, too, am practised in the art, youare wrong. "

The fixed smile trembled a little, but her eyes were wide and bright. 

"Would you laugh, Carus, if I said it: what you did to me--is thefirst--the very first in all my life?"

"Oh, no, " I said gravely, "I should not laugh if you commandedotherwise. "

She looked at me in silence, the light from the chaise-lamps playingover her flushed face. Presently she turned and surveyed the darknesswhere, row on row, ruins of burned houses stood, the stars shining downthrough roofless walls. 

Into my head came ringing the song that Walter Butler sang:

 "Ninon! Ninon! thy sweet life flies! Wasted in hours day follows day. The rose to-night to-morrow dies: Wilt thou disdain to love alway? How canst thou live unconscious of Love's fire, Immune to passion, guiltless of desire?"

Now all around us lamplight glimmered as we entered Bowling Green, where coach and chaise and sedan-chair were jumbled in a confusionincreased by the crack of whips, the trample of impatient horses, andthe cries of grooms and chairmen. In the lamp's increasing glare I madeout a double line of soldiers, through which those invited to the Fortwere passing; and as our chaise stopped and I aided Elsin to descend, the fresh sea-wind from the Battery struck us full, blowing her lacescarf across my face. 

Through lines of servants and soldiers we passed, her hand nestlingclosely to my arm, past the new series of outworks and barricades, where bronze field-pieces stood shining in the moonlight, then over adry moat by a flimsy bridge, and entered the sally-port, thronged withofficers, all laughing and chatting, alert to watch the guestsarriving, and a little bold, too, with their stares and theirquizzing-glasses. There is, at times, something almost German in theBritish lack of delicacy, which is, so far, rare with us here, though Idoubt not the French will taint a few among us. But insolence in stareand smirk is not among our listed sins, though, doubtless, otherwisethe list is full as long as that of any nation, and longer, too, forall I know. 

Conducting Elsin Grey, I grew impatient at the staring, and made wayfor her without ceremony, which caused a mutter here and there. 

In the great loft-room of the Barracks, held by the naval companies, the ball was to be given. I relinquished my pretty charge to LadyColeville at the door of the retiring-room, and strolled off to joinSir Peter and the others, gathering in knots throughout the cloak-room, where two sailors, cutlasses bared, stood guard. 

"Well, Carus, " he said, smilingly approaching me, "did you heed thosechaste instructions I gave concerning the phantom Kissing-Bridge?"

"I did not run away with her, " I said, looking about me. "Where isWalter Butler?"

"He returned to the house in a chaise for something forgotten--or so hesaid. I did not understand him clearly, and he was in great haste. "

"He went back to _our_ house?" I asked uneasily. 

"Yes--a matter of a moment, so he said. He returns to move the openingdance with Rosamund. "

Curiously apprehensive, I stood there listening to the chatter aroundme. Sir Peter drummed with his fingers on his sword-hilt, and noddedjoyously to every passer-by. 

"You have found Walter Butler more agreeable, I trust, than our friendSir Henry found him, " he said, turning his amused eyes on me. 

"Perhaps, " I said. 

"Perhaps? Damme, Carus, that is none too cordial! What is it in the manthat keeps men aloof? Eh? He's a gentleman, a graceful, dark, romanticfellow, in his forest-green regimentals and his black hair wornunpowdered. And did you ever hear such a voice?"

"No, I never did, " I replied sulkily. 

"Delicious, " said Sir Peter--"a voice prettily cultivated, and sweetenough to lull suspicion in a saint. " He laughed: "Rosamund made greateyes at him, the vixen, but I fancy he's too cold to catch fire from acoquette. Did you learn if he is married?"

"Not from him, sir. "

"From whom?"

I was silent. 

"From whom?" he asked curiously. 

"Why, I had it from one or two acquaintances, who say they knew hiswife when she fled with other refugees from Guy Park, " I answered. 

Sir Peter shrugged his handsome shoulders, dusted his nose with a whiskof his lace handkerchief, and looked impatiently for a sign of his wifeand the party of ladies attending her. 

"Carus, " he said under his breath, "you should enter the lists, yourogue. "

"What lists?" I answered carelessly. 

"Lord! he asks me what lists!" mimicked Sir Peter. "Why don't you courther? The match is suitable and desirable. You ninny, do you suppose itwas by accident that Elsin Grey became our guest? Why, lad, we're seton it--and, damme! but I'm as crafty a matchmaker as my wife, planningthe pretty game together in the secret of our chambers after you andElsin are long abed, and--Lord! I came close to saying 'snoring'--forwhich you should have called me out, sir, if you are champion of ElsinGrey. "

"But, Sir Peter, " I said smiling, "I do not love the lady. "

"A boorish speech!" he snapped. "Take shame, Carus, you Tryon Countybumpkin!"

"I mean, " said I, reddening, "and should have said, that the lady doesnot love me. "

"That's better. " He laughed, and added, "Pay your court, sir. You arefashioned for it. "

"But I do not care to, " I said. 

"O Lord!" muttered Sir Peter, looking at the great beams above us, "mymatch-making is come to naught, after all, and my wife will be furiouswith you--furious, I say. And here she comes, too, " he said, brightening, as he ever did, at sight of his lovely wife, who hadremained his sweetheart, too; and this I am free to say, that, spite ofthe looseness of the times and of society, never, as long as I knewhim, did Sir Peter forget in thought or deed those vows he took whenwedded. Sportsman he was, and rake and gambler, as were we all; and Ihave seen him often overflushed with wine, but never heard from hislips a blasphemy or foul jest, never a word unworthy of clean lips andthe clean heart he carried with him to his grave. 

As Lady Coleville emerged from the ladies' cloakroom, attended by herpretty bevy, Sir Peter, followed by his guests, awaited her in thegreat corridor, where she took his arm, looking up into his handsomeface with that indefinable smile I knew so well--a smile of delicatepride, partly tender, partly humorous, tinctured with faintestcoquetry. 

"Sweetheart, " he said, "that villain, Carus, will have none of ourmatch-making, and I hope Rosamund twists him into a triplelover's-knot, to teach him lessons he might learn more innocently. "

Lady Coleville flushed up and looked around at me. "Why, Carus, " shesaid softly, "I thought you a man of sense and discretion. "

"But I--but she does not favor me, madam, " I protested in a low voice. 

"It is your fault, then, and your misfortune, " she said. "Do you notknow that she leaves us to-morrow? Sir Henry has placed a packet at ourservice. Can you not be persuaded--for my sake? It is our fond wish, Carus. How can a man be insensible to such wholesome loveliness ashers?"

"But--but she is a child--she has no heart! She is but a child yet--allcaprice, innocence, and artless babble--and she loves not me, madam----"

"_You_ love not _her_! Shame, sir! Open those brown blind eyes of yours, that look so wise and are so shallow if such sweetness as hers troublesnot their depths! Oh, Carus, Carus, you make me too unhappy!"

"Idiot!" added Sir Peter, pinching my arm. "Bring her to us, now, forwe enter. She is yonder, you slow-wit! nose to nose with O'Neil. Hasten!"

But Elsin's patch-box had been mislaid, and while we searched for it Isaw the marines march up, form in double rank, and heard the clearvoice of their sergeant announcing:

"Sir Peter and Lady Coleville!

"Captain Tully O'Neil and the Misses O'Neil!

"Adjutant-General De Lancey and Miss Beekman!

"Sir Henry Clinton!

"Captains Harkness, Rutherford, Hallowell, and McIvor!

"Major-General----"

"Elsin, " I said, "you should have been announced with Sir Peter andLady Coleville!"

She had found her patch-box and her fan at length, and we marched in, the sergeant's loud announcement ringing through the quickly fillingroom:

"Mr. Carus Renault and the Honorable Elsin Grey!"

"What _will_ folk say to hear our banns shouted aloud in the teeth ofall New York?" she whispered mischievously. "Mercy on me! if you turn asred as a Bushwick pippin they will declare we are affianced!"

"I shall confirm it if you consent!" I said, furious to burn at a jestfrom her under a thousand eyes. 

"Ask me again, " she murmured; "we make our reverences here. "

She took her silk and silver petticoat between thumb and forefinger ofeach hand and slowly sank, making the lowest, stateliest curtsy that Iever bowed beside; and I heard a low, running murmur sweep the bright, jeweled ranks around us as we recovered and passed on, ceding our placeto others next behind. 

The artillerymen had made the great loft gay with bunting. Jacks andsignal-flags hung from the high beams overhead, clothing the baretimbers with thickets of gayest foliage; banners and bright scarfs, caught up with trophies, hung festooned along the unpainted walls. Theyhad made a balcony with stairs where the band was perched, the music ofthe artillery augmented by strings--a harp, half a dozen fiddles, cellos, bassoons, and hautboys, and there were flutes, too, andtrumpets lent by the cavalry, and sufficient drums to make that fine, deep, thunderous undertone, which I love to hear, and which heats mycheeks with pleasure. 

Beyond the spar-loft the sail-loft had been set aside and fashionedmost elegantly for refreshment. An immense table crossed it, behindwhich servants stood, and behind the servants the wall had been linedwith shelves covered with cakes, oranges, apples, early peaches, melonsand nectarines, and late strawberries, also wines of every sort, pastry, jellies, whip-syllabub, rocky and floating island, blanc-mange, brandied preserves--and Heaven knows what! But Elsin Grey whispered methat Pryor the confectioner had orders for coriander and cinnamoncomfits by the bushel, and orange, lemon, chocolate, and burned almondsby the peck. 

"Do look at Lady Coleville, " whispered Elsin, gently touching mysleeve; "is she not sweet as a bride with Sir Peter? And oh, that gown!with the lilac ribbons and flounce of five rows of lace. Carus, she hasforty diamond buttons upon her petticoat, and her stomacher is allamethysts!"

"I wonder where Walter Butler is?" I said restlessly. 

"Do you wish to be rid of me?" she asked. 

"God forbid! I only marvel that he is not here--he seemed so eager forthe frolic----"

My voice was drowned in the roll of martial music; we took the placesassigned us, and the slow march began, ending in the Governor's set, which was danced by eight couples--a curious dance, newly fashionable, and called "En Ballet. " This we danced in a very interesting fashion, sometimes two and two, sometimes three and two, or four couple and fourcouple, and then all together, which vastly entertained the spectators. In the final mêlée I had lost my lady to Mr. De Lancey, who now carriedher off, leaving me with a willowy maid, whose partner came to claimher soon. 

The ball now being opened, I moved a minuet with Lady Coleville, sheadjuring me at every step and turn to let no precious moment slip tocourt Elsin; and I, bland but troubled, and astonished to learn howdeep an interest she took in my undoing--I with worry enough before me, not inclusive of a courtship that I found superfluous and unimportant. 

When she was rid of me, making no concealment of her disappointment andimpatience, I looked for Elsin, but found Rosamund Barry, and led herout in one of those animated figures we had learned at home from theFrenchman, Grasset--dances that suited her, the rose coquette!--gaydances, where the petticoat reveals a pretty limb discreetly; wherefans play, opening and closing like the painted wings of butterfliesalarmed; where fingers touch, fall away, interlace and unlace; where alight waist-clasp and a vis-à-vis leaves a moment for a whisper and itsanswer, promise, assent, or low refusal as partners part, dropping awayin low, slow reverence, which ends the frivolous figure with regretfuldecorum. 

Askance I had seen Elsin and O'Neil, a graceful pair of figures in thefrolic, and now I sought her, leaving Rosamund to Sir Henry, but thatvillain O'Neil had her to wine, and amid all that thirsty throng andnoise of laughter I missed her in the tumult, and then lost her for twohours. I must admit those two hours sped with the gay partners thatfortune sent me--and one there was whose fingers were shyly eloquent, ablack-eyed beauty from Westchester, with a fresh savor of free windsand grassy hillsides clinging to her, and a certain lovely awkwardnesswhich claims an arm to steady very often. Lord! I had her twice to icesand to wine, and we laughed and laughed at nothing, and might have beenmerrier, but her mother seized her with scant ceremony, and a strangeyoung gentleman breathed hard and glared at me as I recovered dignity, which made me mad enough to follow him half across the hall ere Ireflected that my business here permitted me no quarrel of my ownseeking. 

Robbed of my Westchester shepherdess, swallowing my disgust, Isauntered forward, finding Elsin Grey with Lady Coleville, seatedtogether by the wall. What they had been whispering there together Iknew not, but I pushed through the attendant circle of beaus andgallants who were waiting there their turns, and presented myselfbefore them. 

"I am danced to rags and ribbons, Carus, " said Elsin Grey--"and nothanks to you for the pleasure, you who begged me for a dance or two;and I offered twenty, silly that I was to so invite affront!"

She was smiling when she spoke, but Lady Coleville's white teeth werein her fan's edge, and she looked at me with eyes made bright throughdisappointment. 

"You are conducting like a silly boy, " she said, "with those hoydensfrom Westchester, and every little baggage that dimples at your stare. Lord! Carus, I thought you grown to manhood!"

"Is there a harm in dancing at a ball, madam?" I asked, laughing. 

"Fie! You are deceitful, too. Elsin, be chary of your favors. Dancewith any man but him. He'll be wearing two watches to-morrow, and hishair piled up like a floating island!"

She smiled, but her eyes were not overgay. And presently she turned onElsin with a grave shake of her head:

"You disappoint me, both of you, " she said. "Elsin, I never dreamedthat _you_----"

Their fans flew up, their heads dipped, then Elsin rose and askedindulgence, taking my arm, one hand lying in Lady Coleville's hand. 

"Do you and Sir Peter talk over it together, " she said, with alingering wistfulness in her voice. "I shall dance with Carus, whetherhe will or no, and then we'll walk and talk. You may tell Sir Peter, ifyou so desire. "

"_All?_" asked Lady Coleville, retaining Elsin's hand. 

"All, madam, for it concerns all. "

Sir Henry Clinton came to wait on Lady Coleville, and so we left them, slowly moving out through the brilliant sea of silks and laces, her armresting close in mine, her fair head bent in silent meditation. 

Around us swelled the incessant tumult of the ball, music and theblended harmony of many voices, rustle and whisper of skirt and silk, and the swish! swish! of feet across the vast waxed floor. 

"Shall we dance?" I asked pleasantly. 

She looked up, then out across the ocean of glitter and restless color. 

"Now I am in two minds, " she said--"to dance until there's no breathleft and but a wisp of rags to cover me, or to sip a syllabub with youand rest, or go gaze at the heavens the while you court me----"

"That's three minds already, " I said, laughing. 

"Well, sir, which are you for?"

"And you, Elsin?"

"No, sir, you shall choose. "

"Then, if it lies with me, I choose the stars and courtship, " I saidpolitely. 

"I wonder, " she said, "why you choose it--with a maid so pliable. Isnot half the sport in the odds against you--the pretty combat forsupremacy, the resisting fingers, and the defense, face covered? Is notthe sport to overcome all these, nor halt short of the reluctant lips, still fluttering in voiceless protest?"

"Where did you hear all that?" I asked, piqued yet laughing. 

"Rosamund Barry read me my first lesson--and, after all, though warned, I let you have your way with me there in the chaise. Oh, I am an aptpupil, Carus, with Captain Butler in full control of my mind and you ofmy body. "

"Have you seen him yet?" I asked. 

"No; he has not appeared to claim his dance. A gallant pair ofcourtiers I have found in you and him----"

"Couple our names no more!" I said so hotly that she stopped, lookingat me in astonishment. 

"Have you quarreled?" she asked. 

I did not answer. We had descended the barrack-stairs and were enteringthe parade. Dark figures in pairs moved vaguely in the light of thebattle-lanthorns set. We met O'Neil and Rosamund, who stood star-gazingon the grass, and later Sir Henry, pacing the sod alone, who, when hesaw me, motioned me to stop, and drew a paper from his breast. 

"Sir Peter and Lady Coleville's pass for Westchester, which he desiredand I forgot. Will you be good enough to hand it to him, Mr. Renault?There is a council called to-night--it is close to two o'clock, and Imust go. "

He took a courtly leave of us, then wandered away, head bent, pacingthe parade as though he kept account of each slow step. 

"Yonder comes Knyphausen, too, and Birch, " I said, as the GermanGeneral emerged from the casemates, followed by Birch and a raft ofofficers, spurs clanking. 

We stood watching the Hessians as they passed in the lamp's rays, officers smooth-shaven and powdered, wearing blue and yellow, and theirlong boots; soldiers with black queues in eelskin, tiny mustachesturned up at the waxed ends, and long black, buttoned spatter-dashesstrapped at instep and thigh. 

"Let us ascend to the parapets, " she said, looking up at the huge, darksilhouette above where the southeast bastion jutted seaward. 

A sentry brought his piece to support as we went by him, ascending theinclined artillery road, whence we presently came out upon theramparts, with the vast sweep of star-set firmament above, and below usthe city's twinkling lights on one side, and upon the other two greatrivers at their trysting with the midnight ocean. 

There were no lights at sea, none on the Hudson, and on the East Riveronly the sad signal-spark smoldering above the _Jersey_. 

Elsin had found a seat low on a gun-carriage, and, moving a little, made place for me. 

"Look at that darkness, " she said--"that infinite void under which anocean wallows. It is like hell, I think. Do you understand how I fearthe ocean?"

"Do you fear it, child?"

"Aye, " she said, musing; "it took father and mother and brother. Youknew that?"

"Lady Coleville says there is always hope that they may be alive--caston that far continent----"

"So the attorneys say--because there is a legal limit--and I am theHonorable Elsin Grey. Ah, Carus, _I_ know that the sea has them fast. No port shall that tall ship enter save the last of all--the Port ofMissing Ships. Heigho! Sir Frederick is kind--in his own fashion. .. . Iwould I had a mother. .. . There is a loneliness that I feel . .. Attimes. .. . "

A vague gesture, and she lifted her head, with a tremor of hershoulders, as though shaking off care as a young girl drops a scarf oflace to her waist. 

Presently she turned quietly to me:

"I have told Lady Coleville, " she said. 

"Told her what, child?"

"Of my promise to Captain Butler. I have not yet told everything--evento you. "

Roused from my calm sympathy I swung around, alert, tingling withinterest and curiosity. 

"I gave her leave to inform Sir Peter, " she added. "They were toounhappy about you and me, Carus. Now they will understand there is nochance. "

And when Sir Peter had asked me if Walter Butler was married, I hadadmitted it. Here was the matter already at a head, or close to it. Sudden uneasiness came upon me, as I began to understand how closelythe affront touched Sir Peter. What would he do?

"What is it called, and by what name, Carus, when a man whose touch onecan not suffer so dominates one's thoughts--as he does mine?"

"It is not love, " I said gloomily. 

"He swears it is. Do you believe there may lie something compelling inhis eyes that charm and sadden--almost terrify, holding one pitifulyet reluctant?"

"I do not know. I do not understand the logic of women's minds, nor howthey reason, nor why they love. I have seen delicacy mate withcoarseness, wit with stupidity, humanity with brutality, religion withthe skeptic, aye, goodness with evil. I, too, ask why? The answer everis the same--because of love!"

"Because of it, is reason; is it not?"

"So women say. "

"And men?"

"Aye, they say the same; but with men it is another sentiment, I think, though love is what we call it. "

"Why do men love, Carus?"

"Why?" I laughed. "Men love--men love because they find it pleasant, Isuppose--for variety, for family reasons. "

"For nothing else?"

"For a balm to that mad passion driving them. "

"And--nothing nobler?"

"There is a noble love, part chivalry, part desire, inspired by mindand body in sweetest unison. "

"A mind that seeks its fellow?" she asked softly. 

"No, a mind that seeks its complement, as the body seeks. This union, Ithink, is really love. But I speak with no experience, Elsin. This onlyI know, that you are too young, too innocent to comprehend, and thatthe sentiment awakened in you by what you think is love, is not love. Child, forgive me what I say, but it rings false as the vows of thatyoung man who importunes you. "

"Is it worthy of you, Carus, to stab him so behind his back?"

I leaned forward, my head in my hands. 

"Elsin, I have endured these four years, now, a thousand little stingswhich I could not resent. Forgetting this, at moments I blurt out atruth which, were matters otherwise with me, I might back with--what islooked for when a man repeats what may affront his listener. It is, ina way, unworthy, as you say, that I speak lightly to you of a man I cannot meet with honor to myself. Yet, Elsin, were my duty first toyou--first even to myself--this had been settled now--this mattertouching you and Walter Butler--and also my ancient score with him, which is as yet unreckoned. "

"What keeps you, then?" she said, and her voice rang a little. 

I looked at her; she sat there, proud head erect, searching me withscornful eyes. 

"A small vow I made, " said I carelessly. 

"And when are you released, sir?"

"Soon, I hope. "

"Then, Mr. Renault, " she said disdainfully, "I pray you swallow yourdislike of Captain Butler until such time as you may explain yourenmity to him. "

The lash stung. I sat dazed, then wearied, while the tingling passed. Even the silence tired me, and when I could command my voice I said:"Shall we descend, madam? There is a chill in the sea-air. "

"I do not feel it, " she answered, her voice not like her own. 

"Do you desire to stay here?"

"No, " she said, springing up. "This silence of the stars wearies me. "

She passed before me across the parapet and down the inclined way, I ather heels; and so into the dark parade, where I caught up with her. 

"Have I angered you without hope of pardon?" I asked. 

"You have spoiled it all for me----"

She bit her lip, suddenly silent. Sir Peter Coleville stood before us. 

"Lady Coleville awaits you, " he said very quietly, too quietly by far. "Carus, take her to my wife. Our coach is waiting. "

We stared at him in apprehension. His face was serene, but colorlessand hard as steel, as he turned and strode away; and we followedwithout a word, drawing closer together as we moved through a coveredpassage-way and out along Pearl Street, where Sir Peter's coach stood, lamps shining, footman at the door. 

Lady Coleville was inside. I placed Elsin Grey, and, at a motion fromSir Peter, closed the door. 

"Home, " he said quietly. The footman leaped to the box, the whipsnapped, and away rolled the coach, leaving Sir Peter and myselfstanding there in Pearl Street. 

"Your servant Dennis sought me out, " he said, "with word that WalterButler had been busy sounding the panels in your room. "

Speech froze on my lips. 

"Further, " continued Sir Peter calmly, "Lady Coleville has shared withme the confidence of Elsin Grey concerning her troth, clandestinelyplighted to this gentleman whom you have told me is a married man. "

I could not utter a sound. Moment after moment passed in silence. Thehalf-hour struck, then three-quarters. At last from the watch-tower onthe Fort the hour sounded. 

There was a rattle of wheels behind us; a coach clattered out of BeaverStreet, swung around the railing of the Bowling Green, and drew upalong the foot-path beside us; and Dr. Carmody leaped out, shakinghands with us both. 

"I found him at Fraunce's Tavern, Sir Peter, bag and baggage. Heappeared to be greatly taken aback when I delivered your cartel, protesting that something was wrong, that there could be no quarrelbetween you and him; but when I hinted at his villainy, he went whiteas ashes and stood there swaying like a stunned man. Gad! that hintabout his wife took every ounce of blood from his face, Sir Peter. "

"Has he a friend to care for him?" asked Sir Peter coldly. 

"Jessop of the Sappers volunteered. I found him in the tap-room. Theyshould be on their way by this time, Sir Peter. "

"That will do. Carus will act for me, " said Sir Peter in a dull voice. 

He entered the coach; I followed, and Dr. Carmody followed me andclosed the door. A heavy leather case lay beside me on the seat. Irested my throbbing head on both hands, sitting swaying there insilence as the coach dashed through Bowling Green again and spedclattering on its way up-town. 

CHAPTER VI

A NIGHT AND A MORNING

As our coach passed Crown Street I could no longer doubt whither wewere bound. The shock of certainty aroused me from the stunned lethargywhich had chained me to silence. At the same moment Sir Peter thrusthis head from the window and called to his coachman:

"Drive home first!" And to me, resuming his seat: "We had nighforgotten the case of pistols, Carus. "

The horses swung west into Maiden Lane, then south through NassauStreet, across Crown, Little Queen, and King Streets, swerving to theright around the City Hall, then sharp west again, stopping at our owngate with a clatter and clash of harness. 

Sir Peter leaped out lightly, and I followed, leaving Dr. Carmody, withhis surgical case, to await our return. 

Under the door-lanthorn Sir Peter turned, and in a low voice asked meif I could remember where the pistol-case was laid. 

My mind was now clear and alert, my wits already busily at work. Toprevent Sir Peter's facing Walter Butler; to avoid Cunningham'sgallows; could the first be accomplished without failure in the second?Arrest might await me at any instant now, here in our own house, thereat the Coq d'Or, or even on the very field of honor itself. 

"Where did you leave the pistol-case that day you practised in thegarden?" I asked coolly. 

"'Twas you took it, Carus, " he said. "Were you not showing the pistolsto Elsin Grey?"

I dropped my head, pretending to think. He waited a moment, then drewout his latch-key and opened the door very softly. A singlesconce-candle flared in the hall; he lifted it from the gilded socketand passed into the state drawing-room, holding the light above hishead, and searching over table and cabinet for the inlaid case. 

Standing there in the hall I looked up the dark and shadowy stairway. There was no light, no sound. In the drawing-room I heard Sir Petermoving about, opening locked cupboards, lacquered drawers, and crystaldoors, the shifting light of his candle playing over wall and ceiling. Why he had not already found the case where I had placed it on thegilded French table I could not understand, and I stole to the door andlooked in. The French table stood empty save for a vase of shadowyflowers; Sir Peter was on his knees, candle in hand, searching theendless lines of book-shelves in the library. A strange suspicion stoleinto my heart which set it drumming on my ribs. Had Elsin Grey removedthe pistols? Had she wit enough to understand the matters threatening?

I looked up at the stairs again, then mounted them noiselessly, andtraversed the carpeted passage to her door. There was a faint lightglimmering under the sill. I laid my face against the panels andwhispered, "Elsin!"

"Who is there?" A movement from within, a creak from the bed, a rustleof a garment, then silence. Listening there, ear to her door, I hearddistinctly the steady breathing of some one also listening on the otherside. 

"Elsin!"

"Is it you, Carus?"

She opened the door wide and stood there, candle in one hand, rubbingher eyes with the other, lace night-cap and flowing, beribboned robestirring in the draft of air from the dark hallway. But under theloosened neck-cloth I caught a gleam of a metal button, and instantly Iwas aware of a pretense somewhere, for beneath the flowing polonaise ofchintz, or Levete, which is a kind of gown and petticoat tied on theleft hip with a sash of lace, she was fully dressed, aye, and shod forthe street. 

Instinctively I glanced at the bed, made a quick step past her, anddrew the damask curtain. The bed had not been slept in. 

"What are you thinking of, Carus?" she said hotly, springing to thecurtain. There was a sharp sound of cloth tearing; she stumbled, caughtmy arm, and straightened up, red as fire, for the hem of her Levete waslaid open to the knee, and displayed a foot-mantle, under which a tinygolden spur flashed on a lacquered boot-heel. 

"What does this mean?" I said sternly. "Whither do you ride at such anhour?"

She was speechless. 

"Elsin! Elsin! If you had wit enough to hide Sir Peter's pistols, render them to me now. Delay may mean my ruin. "

She stood at bay, eying me, uncertain but defiant. 

"Where are they?" I urged impatiently. 

"He shall not fight that man!" she muttered. "If I am the cause of thisquarrel I shall end it, too. What if he were killed by Walter Butler?"

"The pistols are beneath your mattress!" I said suddenly. "I must havethem. "

Quick as thought she placed herself between me and the bed, blue eyessparkling, arms wide. 

"Will you go?" she whispered fiercely. "How dare you intrude here!"

Taken aback by the sudden fury that flashed out in my very face, I gaveground. 

"You little wildcat, " I said, amazed, "give me the pistols! I know howto act. Give them, I say! Do you think me a poltroon to allow Sir Peterto face this rascal's fire?"

She straightened with a sudden quiver. 

"You! The pistols were for _you!_"

"For me and Walter Butler, " I said coolly. "Give them, Elsin. What hasbeen done this night has set me free of my vow. Can you not understand?I tell you he stands in my light, throwing the shadow of the gallowsover me! May a man not win back to life but a chit of a maid mustsnatch his chance away? Give them, or I swing at dawn upon the common!"

A flush of horror swept her cheeks, leaving her staring. Her wide-flungarms dropped nervelessly and hung beside her. 

"Is it _true_, " she faltered--"what he came here to tell us on his wayto that vile tavern? I gave him the lie, Carus. I gave him the lie therein the hall below. " She choked, laying her white hand on her throat. "Speak!" she said harshly; "do you fear to face this dreadful charge heflung in my teeth? I"--she almost sobbed--"I told him that he lied. "

"He did not lie. I am a spy these four years here, " I said wearily. "Will you give me those pistols now?--or I take them by force!"

"Carus, " called Sir Peter from the hall, "if Lady Coleville has mypistols, she must render them to you on the instant. "

His passionless voice rang through the still, dark house. 

"She has gone to the Coq d'Or, " muttered Elsin Grey, motionless beforeme. 

"To stop this duel?"

"To stop it. Oh, my God!"

There was a silence, broken by a quick tread on the stairs. The nextmoment Sir Peter appeared, staring at us there, candle flaring in hishand, his fingers striped with running wax. 

"What does this mean?" he asked, confused. "Where is Lady Coleville?"

"She has gone to the Coq d'Or, " I said. "Your pistols are hidden, sir. "

He paled, gazing at Elsin Grey. 

"She guessed that I meant to--to exchange a shot with Captain Butler?"he stammered. 

"It appears, " said I, "that Mr. Butler, with that delicacy for which heis notorious, stopped here on his way to the tavern. You may imagineLady Coleville could not let this matter proceed. "

He gazed miserably at Elsin, passing his hand over his haggard face. Then, slowly turning to me: "My honor is engaged, Carus. What is bestnow? I am in your hands. "

I laid my arm in his, quietly turning him and urging him to the stairs. "Leave it to me, " I whispered, taking the candle he held. "Go to thecoach and wait there. I will be with you in a moment. "

The door of Elsin's chamber closed behind us. He descended the blackstairway, feeling his way by touch along the slim rail of thebanisters, and I waited there, lighting him from above until the frontdoors clashed behind him. Then I turned back to the closed door ofElsin's chamber and knocked loudly. 

She flung it wide again, standing this time fully dressed, a gilt-edgedtricorn on her head, and in her hands riding-whip and gloves. 

"I know what need be done, " she said haughtily. "Through this meshedtangle of treachery and dishonor there leads but one clean path. That Ishall tread, Mr. Renault!"

"Let the words go, " I said between tightening lips, "but give me thatpair of pistols, now!"

"For Sir Peter's use?"

"No, for mine. "

"I shall not!"

"Oh, you would rather see me hanged, like Captain Hale?"

She whitened where she stood, tugging at her gloves, teeth set in herlower lip. 

"You shall neither fight nor hang, " she said, her blue eyes fixed onspace, busy with her gloves the while--so busy that her whip dropped, and I picked it up. 

There was a black loup-mask hanging from her girdle. When her gloveswere fitted to suit her she jerked the mask from the string and set itover her eyes. 

"My whip?" she asked curtly. 

I gave it. 

"Now, " she said, "your pistol-case lies hid beneath my bed-covers. Takeit, Mr. Renault, but it shall serve a purpose that neither you norWalter Butler dream of!"

I stared at her without a word. She opened the beaded purse at hergirdle, took from it a heaping handful of golden guineas, and droppedthem on her dresser, where they fell with a pleasant sound, rollingtogether in a shining heap. Then, looking through her mask at me, shefumbled at her throat, caught a thin golden chain, snapped it in two, and drew a tiny ivory miniature from her breast; and still lookingstraight into my eyes she dropped it face upward on the polished floor. It bore the likeness of Walter Butler. She set her spurred heel upon itand crushed it, grinding the fragments into splinters. Then she walkedby me, slowly, her eyes still on mine, the hem of her foot-mantleslightly lifted; and so, turning her head to watch me, she passed thedoor, closed it behind her, and was gone. 

What the strange maid meant to do I did not know, but I knew what laybefore me now. First I flung aside the curtains of her bed, tore thefine linen from it, burrowing in downy depths, under pillow, quilt, andvalance, until my hands encountered something hard; and I dragged outthe pistol-case and snapped it open. The silver-chased weapons laythere in perfect order; under the drawer that held them was anotherdrawer containing finest priming-powder, shaped wads, ball, and a caseof flints. 

So all was ready and in order. I closed the case and hurried up thestairway to my room, candle in hand. Ha! The wainscot cupboard I had socunningly devised was swinging wide. In it had been concealed thatblotted sheet rejected from the copy of my letter to hisExcellency--nothing more; yet that alone was quite enough to hang me, and I knew it as I stood there, my candle lighting an empty cupboard. 

Suddenly terror laid an icy hand upon me. I shook to my knees, listening. Why had he not denounced me, then? And in the same instantthe answer came: _He_ was to profit by my disgrace; _he_ was to beaggrandized by my downfall. The drama he had prepared was to be set inscenery of his own choosing. His savant fingers grasped the tiller, steering me inexorably to my destruction. 

Yet, as I stood there, teeth set, tearing my finery from me, flingingcoat one way, waistcoat another, and dressing me with blind haste inriding-clothes and boots, I felt that just a single chance was left tome with honor; and I seized the passes that Sir Henry had handed me forSir Peter and his lady, and stuffed them into my breast-pocket. 

Gloved, booted, spurred, I caught up the case of pistols, ran down thestairs, flung open the door, and slammed it behind me. 

Sir Peter stood waiting by the coach; and when he saw me with hispistol-case he said: "Well done, Carus! I had no mind to go hammeringat a friend's door to beg a brace of pistols at such an hour. "

I placed the case after he had entered the coach. Dr. Carmody made roomfor me, but I shook my head. 

"I ride, " I said. "Wait but an instant more. "

"Why do you ride?" asked Sir Peter, surprised. 

"You will understand later, " I said gaily. "Be patient, gentlemen;" andI ran for the stables. Sleepy hostlers in smalls and bare feet tumbledout in the glare of the coach-house lanthorn at my shout. 

"The roan, " I said briefly. "Saddle for your lives!"

The stars were no paler in the heavens as I stood there on the grass, waiting, yet dawn must be very near now; and, indeed, the birds' chorusbroke out as I set foot to stirrup, though still all was dark aroundme. 

"Now, gentlemen, " I said, spurring up to the carriage-door. I nodded tothe coachman, and we were off at last, I composed and keenly alert, cantering at Sir Peter's coach-wheels, perfectly aware that I wasriding for my liberty at last, or for a fall that meant the end of allfor me. 

There was a chaise standing full in the light of the tavern windowswhen we clattered up--a horse at the horse-block, too, and more horsestied to the hitching-ring at the side-door. 

At the sound of our wheels Mr. Jessop appeared, hastening from thecherry grove, and we exchanged salutes very gravely, I asking pardonfor the delay, he protesting at apology; saying that an encounter bystarlight was, after all, irregular, and that his principal desired towait for dawn if it did not inconvenience us too much. 

Then, hat in hand, he asked Sir Peter's indulgence for a privateconference with me, and led me away by the arm into a sweet-smellinglane, all thick with honeysuckle and candleberry shrub. 

"Carus, " he said, "this is painfully irregular. We are proceeding aspassion dictates, not according to code. Mr. Butler has no choice butto accept, yet he is innocent of wrong intent, and has so informed me. "

"Does he deny his marriage?" I asked. 

"Yes, sir, most solemnly. The lady was his mistress, since discarded. He is quite guiltless of this affront to Sir Peter Coleville, anddesires nothing better than to say so. "

"That concerns us all, " I said seriously. "I am acting for Sir Peter, and I assume the responsibility without consulting him. Where is Mr. Butler?"

"In the tap-room parlor. "

"Say to him that Sir Peter will receive him in the coffee-room, " I saidquietly. 

Jessop impulsively laid his honest hand upon my shoulder as we turnedtoward the tavern. 

"Thank you, Carus, " he said. "I am happy that I have to deal with youinstead of some fire-eating, suspicious bullhead sniffing for secretmischief where none lies hid. "

"I hear that Lady Coleville is come to stop the duel at any cost, " Iobserved, halting at the door. "May we not hope to avoid a distressingscene, Jessop?"

"We must, " he answered, as I left him in the hallway and entered thecoffee-room where Sir Peter waited, seated alone, his feet to the emptyfireplace. 

"Where is Lady Coleville?" he asked, as I stepped up. "She must notremain here, Carus. "

"You are not to fight, " I said, smiling. 

"Not to fight!" he repeated, slowly rising, eyes ablaze. 

"Pray trust me with your honor, " I replied impatiently, opening thedoor to a servant's knock. And to the wide-eyed fellow I said: "Go andsay to Lady Coleville that Sir Peter is not to fight. Say to her----"

I stopped short. Lady Coleville appeared in an open doorway across thehall, her gaze passing my shoulder straight to Sir Peter, who stoodfacing her behind me. 

"What pleasantry is this?" she asked, advancing, a pale smile stampedon her lovely face. 

I made way. She stepped before me, walking straight to Sir Peter. Ifollowed, closing the door behind me. 

"Have I ever, ever in all these years, counseled you to dishonor?" sheasked. "Then listen now. There is no honor in this thing you seek todo, but in it there lies a dreadful wrong to me. "

"He offered insult to our kin--our guest. I can not choose but ask theonly reparation he can give, " said Sir Peter steadily. 

"And leave me to the chance of widowhood?"

Sir Peter whitened to a deathly hue; his distressed eyes traveled fromher to me; he made to speak, but no sound came. 

"This is all useless, " I said quietly, as a knock came at the door. Istepped back and opened it to Walter Butler. 

When he saw me his dark eyes lit up with that yellow glare I knewalready. Then he turned, bowing to Lady Coleville and to Sir Peter, who, pale and astounded, stared at the man as though the fiend himselfstood there before him. 

"Sir Peter, " began his enemy, "I have thought----"

But I cut him short with a contemptuous laugh. 

"Sir Peter, " I said, "Mr. Butler is here to say that he is not weddedto his Tryon County mistress--that is all; and as he therefore has notoffended you, there is no reason for you to challenge him. Now, sir, Ipray you take Lady Coleville and return. Go, in God's name, Sir Peter, for time spurs me, and I have business here to keep me!"

"Let Sir Peter remain, " said Butler coldly. "My quarrel is not withhim, nor his with me. "

"No, " said I gaily, "it is with me, I think. "

"Carus, " cried Lady Coleville, "I forbid you! What senseless thing isthis you seek?"

"Pray calm yourself, madam, " said Mr. Butler; "he stands in more dangerof the gallows than of me. "

Sir Peter pushed forward. I caught his arm, forcing him aside, but hestruggled, saying: "Did you not hear the man? Let me go, Carus; do youthink such an insult to you can pass me like a puff of sea-wind?"

"It strikes me first, " I said. "It is to me that Mr. Butler answers. "

"No, gentlemen, to _me!_" said a low voice behind us--the voice of ElsinGrey. 

Amazed, we turned, passion still marring our white faces. Calm, bright-eyed, a smile that I had never seen imprinted on her closedlips, she walked to the table, unlocked the case of pistols, liftedthem, and laid them there in the yellow lamplight. 

"Elsin! Elsin!" stammered Lady Coleville; "have you, too, gone mad?"

"This is _my_ quarrel, " she said, turning on me so fiercely that Istepped back. "If any shot is fired in deference to me, _I_ fire it;if any bullet is sped to defend my honor, _I_ speed it, gentlemen. Why"--and she turned like a flash upon Sir Peter--"why do you assume tointerfere in this? Is not an honest man's duty to his own wife first?Small honor you do yourself or her!--scant love must you bear her torisk your life to chance in a quarrel that concerns not you!"

Astounded and dumb, we stood there as though rooted to the floor. 

She looked at Butler and laughed; picked up a pistol, loaded it withincredible deftness, laid it on the table, and began loading the other. 

"Elsin! Elsin!" cried Lady Coleville, catching her by the waist, "whatis this wild freak of yours? Have you all gone mad to-night?"

"You shake my hand and spill the powder, " said the Hon. Miss Grey, smiling. 

"Elsin, " murmured Walter Butler, "has this fellow Renault poisoned youagainst me?"

"Why, no, sir. You are married to a wife and dare to court me! Therelies the poison, Mr. Butler!"

"Hush, Elsin!" murmured Lady Coleville. "It was a mistake, dear. Mr. Butler is not married to the--the lady--to anybody. He swears it!"

"Not wedded?" She stared, then turned scarlet to her hair. And WalterButler, I think, mistook the cause and meaning of that crimson shame, for he smiled, and drawing a paper from his coat, spread it to SirPeter's eyes. 

"I spoke of the gallows, Sir Peter, and you felt yourself once moreaffronted. Yet, if you will glance at this----"

"What is it?" asked Sir Peter, looking him in the eye. 

"Treason, Sir Peter--a letter--part of one--to the rebel Washington, written by a spy!"

"A lie! _I_ wrote it!" said the Hon. Miss Grey. 

Walter Butler turned to her, amazed, doubting his ears. 

"A jest, " she continued carelessly, "to amuse Mr. Renault. "

"Amuse _him_! It is in his own hand!" stammered Butler. 

"Apparently. But I wrote it, imitating his hand to plague him. It isindifferently done, " she added, with a shrug. "I hid it in the cupboardhe uses for his love-letters. How came it in your fingers, Mr. Butler?"

In blank astonishment he stood there, the letter half extended, hiseyes almost starting from his face. Slowly she moved forward, confronting him, insolent eyes meeting his; and, ere he could guesswhat she purposed, she had snatched the blotted fragment from him andcrushed it in her hand, always eying him until he crimsoned in thefocus of her white contempt. 

"Go!" she said. Her low voice was passionless. 

He turned his burning eyes from her to Lady Coleville, to Sir Peter, then bent his gaze on me. What he divined in my face I know not, butthe flame leaped in his eyes, and that ghastly smile stretched themuscles of his visage. 

"My zeal, it seems, has placed me at a sorry disadvantage, " he said. "Error piled on error growing from a most unhappy misconstruction of mypurposes has changed faith to suspicion, amity to coldness. I know notwhat to say to clear myself--" He turned his melancholy face to Elsin;all anger had faded from it, and only deepest sadness shadowed the palebrow. "I ventured to believe, in days gone by, that my devotion was notutterly displeasing--that perhaps the excesses of a stormy andimpetuous youth might be condoned in the humble devotion of an honestpassion----"

The silence was intense. He turned dramatically to Sir Peter, hiswell-shaped hand opening in graceful salute as he bowed. 

"I ask you, sir, to lend a gentle judgment till I clear myself. And ofyour lady, I humbly beg that mercy also. " Again he bowed profoundly, hand on hilt, a perfect figure of faultless courtesy, graceful, composed, proudly enduring, proudly subduing pride. 

Then he slowly raised his dark head and looked at me. "Mr. Renault, " hesaid, "it is my misfortune that our paths have crossed three times. Itrust they cross no more, but may run hereafter in pleasant parallel. Iwas hasty, I was wrong to judge you by what you said concerning theOneidas. I am impatient, over-sensitive, quick to fire at what I deeman insult to my King. I serve him as my hot blood dictates--and, burning with resentment that you should dare imperil my design, Isearched your chamber to destroy the letter you had threatened warningthe Oneidas of their coming punishment. How can you blame me if I tookthis lady's playful jest for something else?"

"I do not blame you, Captain Butler, " I said disdainfully. 

"Then may we not resume an intercourse as entertaining as it was fullof profit to myself?"

"Time heals--but Time must not be spurred too hard, " I answered, watching him. 

His stealthy eyes dropped as he inclined his head in acquiescence. 

Then Sir Peter spoke, frankly, impetuously, his good heart dictatingever to his reason; and what he said was amiable and kind, standingthere, his sweet lady's arm resting on his own. And she, too, spokegraciously but gravely, with a gentle admonition trailing at the end. 

But when he turned to Elsin Grey, she softened nothing, and her gesturecommitted him to silence while she spoke: "End now what you have saidso well, nor add one word to that delicate pyramid of eloquence whichyou have raised so high to your own honor, Captain Butler. I amslow-witted and must ask advice from that physician, Time, whom Mr. Renault, too, has called in council. "

"Am I, then, banished?" he asked below his breath. 

"Ask yourself, Mr. Butler. And if you find no reply, then I shallanswer you. "

All eyes were on her. What magic metamorphosis had made this woman froma child in a single night! Where had vanished that vague roundness ofcheek and chin in this drawn beauty of maturity? that untroubled eye, that indecision of caprice, that charming restlessness, that childishconfidence in others, accepting as a creed what grave lips uttered as aguidance to the lesser years that rested lightly on her?

And Walter Butler, too, had noted some of this, perplexed at thereserve, the calm self-confidence, the unimagined strength and coldcomposure which he had once swayed by his passion, as a fair andclean-stemmed sapling tosses in tempests that uproot maturer growth. 

His furtive, unconvinced eyes sought the floor as he took his leavewith every ceremony due himself and us. Dawn already whitened the east. He mounted by the tavern window, and I saw him against the pallid skyin silhouette, riding slowly toward the city, Jessop beside him, andtheir horses' manes whipping the rising sea-wind from the west. 

"What a nightmare this has been!" whispered Lady Coleville, herhusband's hands imprisoned in her own. And to Elsin: "Child! whatscenes have we dragged you through! Heaven forgive us!--for you havelearned a sorry wisdom here concerning men!"

"I have learned, " she said steadily, "more than you think, madam. Willyou forgive me if I ask a word alone with Mr. Renault?"

"Not here, child. Look! Day comes creeping on us yonder in the hills. Come home before you have your talk with Carus. You may ride with himif you desire, but follow us. "

Sir Peter turned to gather up his pistols; but Elsin laid her hand onthem, saying that I would care for everything. 

"Sure, she means to have her way with us as well as with WalterButler, " he said humorously. "Come, sweetheart, leave them to this newwisdom Elsin found along the road somewhere between the Coq d'Or andWall Street. They may be wiser than they seem; they could not well beless wise than they are. "

The set smile on Elsin's lips changed nothing as Sir Peter led hislady, all reluctant, from the coffee-room, where the sunken candlesflickered in the pallid light of morning. 

From the front windows we saw the coach drive up, and Lady Coleville, looking back in protest, enter; and after her Sir Peter, and Dr. Carmody with his cases. 

"Come to the door and make as though we meant to mount and follow, " shesaid quietly. "Here, take these pistols. Raise the pan and lower thehammers. They are loaded. Thrust them somewhere--beneath your coat. Nowfollow me. "

I obeyed in silence. As we came out of the tavern-door Lady Colevillenodded, and her coach moved off, passing our horses, which the hostlerswere bringing round. 

I put Elsin up, then swung astride my roan, following her out into theroad--a rod or two only ere she wheeled into the honeysuckle lane, reining in so that I came abreast of her. 

"Now ride!" she said in an unsteady voice. "I know the man you have todeal with. There is no mercy in him, I tell you, and no safety now foryou until you make the rebel lines. "

"I know it, " I said; "but what of you?"

"What of me?" She laughed a bitter laugh, striking her horse so that hebounded forward down the sandy lane, I abreast of her, stride forstride. "What of me? Why, I lied to him, that is all, Mr. Renault. _Andhe knew it!_"

"Is that all?" I asked. 

"No, not all. _He_ told the truth to you and to Sir Peter. And _I_ knewit. "

"In what did he tell the truth?"

"In what he said about--his mistress. " Her face crimsoned, but she heldher head steady and high, nor faltered at the word. 

"How is it that you know?"

"How does a woman know? Tell me and I'll confess it. I know because awoman knows such things. Let it rest there--a matter scarcely fittedfor discussion between a maid and a man--though I am being soundlyschooled, God wot, in every branch of infamy. "

"Then turn here, " I said, reining in, "and ride no more with what mencall a spy. "

But she galloped on, head set, flushed and expressionless, and Ispurred to overtake her. 

"Turn back!" I said hoarsely. "It may go hard with you if I am taken atthe lines!"

"Those passes that Sir Henry gave you--you have them?"

"Yes. "

"For Sir Peter and his lady?"

"So they are made out. "

"Do they know you at Kingsbridge?"

"Yes. The Fifty-fourth guard it. "

"Then how can you hope to pass?"

"I shall pass one way or another, " I said between my teeth. 

She drew from her breast a crumpled paper, unfolded it, and passed itto me, galloping beside me all the while. I scanned it carefully; itwas a pass signed by Sir Henry Clinton, permitting her and me to passthe lines, and dated that very night. 

"How in Heaven's name did you secure this paper in the last nick oftime?" I cried, astounded. 

"I knew you needed it--from what you said there in my chamber. Do youremember that Sir Henry left the Fort for a council? It is not far toQueen Street; and when I left you I mounted and galloped thither. "

"But--but what excuse----"

"Ask me not, Carus, " she said impatiently, while a new color flowedthrough cheek and temple. "Sir Henry first denied me, then he began tolaugh; and I--I galloped here with the ink all wet upon the pass. Whither leads this lane?"

"To the Kingsbridge road. "

"Would they stop and search us if dissatisfied?"

"I think not. "

"Well, I shall take no risk, " she said, snatching the blotted paperfrom her bosom--the paper she had taken from Walter Butler, and whichwas written in my hand. "Hide it under a stone in the hedgerow, andplace the passes that you had for Sir Peter with it, " she said, drawingbridle and looking back. 

I dismounted, turned up a great stone, thrust the papers under, thendropped it to its immemorial bed once more. 

"Quick!" she whispered. "I heard a horse's iron-shod foot striking apebble. "

"Behind us?"

"Yes. Now gallop!"

Our horses plunged on again, fretting at the curb. She rode a mare asblack as a crow save for three silvery fetlocks, and my roan's stridedistressed her nothing. Into the Kingsbridge road we plunged in thewhite river-mist that walled the hedges from our view, and there, as wegalloped through the sand, far behind us I thought to hear a sound likemetal clipping stone. 

"You shall come no farther, " I said. "You can not be found in companywith me. Turn south, and strike the Greenwich road. "

"Too late, " she said calmly. "You forget I compromised myself with thatsame pass you carry. "

"Why in God's name did you include yourself in it?" I asked. 

"Because the pass was denied me until I asked it for us both. "

"You mean----"

"I mean that I lied again to Sir Henry Clinton, Mr. Renault. Spare menow. "

Amazed, comprehending nothing, I fell silent for a space, then turnedto scan her face, but read nothing in its immobility. 

"Why did you do all this for me, a spy?" I asked. 

"For that reason, " she answered sharply--"lest the disgrace bespattermy kinsman, Sir Peter, and his sweet lady. "

"But--what will be said when you return alone and I am gone?"

"Nothing, for I do not return. "

"You--you----"

"I ask you to spare me. Once the lines are passed there is no dangerthat disgrace shall fall on any one--not even on you and me. "

"But how--what will folk say----"

"They'll say we fled together to be wedded!" she cried, exasperated. "If you will force me, learn then that I made excuse and got my passfor that! I told Sir Henry that I loved you and that I was plighted toWalter Butler. And Sir Henry, hating Mr. Butler, laughed until he couldnot see for the tears, and scratched me off my pass for Gretna Green, with his choicest blessing on the lie I offered in return! There, sir, is what I have done. I said I loved you, and I lied. I shall go withyou, then ask a flag of the rebels to pass me on to Canada. And so yousee, Mr. Renault, that no disgrace can fall on me or mine through anyinfamy, however black, that others must account for!"

And she drew her sun-mask from her belt and put it on. 

Her wit, her most amazing resource, her anger, so amazed me that I rodeon, dazed, swaying in the stride of the tireless gallop. Then in aflash, alert once more, I saw ahead the mist rising from the Harlem, the mill on the left, with its empty windows and the two poplar-treesbeside it, the stone piers and wooden railing of the bridge, thesentinels on guard, already faced our way, watching our swift approach. 

As we drew bridle in a whirlwind of sand the guard came tumbling out atthe post's loud bawling, and the officer of the guard followed, sauntering up to our hard-breathing horses and peering up into ourfaces. 

"Enderly!" I exclaimed. 

"Well, what the devil, Carus--" he began, then bit his words in two andbowed to the masked lady, perplexed eyes traveling from her to me andback again. When I held out the pass for his inspection, he took it, scrutinizing it gravely, nodded, and strolled back to the mill. 

"Hurry, Enderly!" I called after him. 

He struck a smarter gait, but to me it seemed a year ere he reappearedwith a pass viséed, and handed it to me. 

"Have a care, " he said; "the country beyond swarms with cowboys andskinners, and the rebel horse ride everywhere unchecked. They've anoutpost at Valentine's, and riflemen along the Bronx----"

At that instant a far sound came to my ears, distant still on the roadbehind us. It was the galloping of horses. Elsin Grey leaped from hersaddle, lifting her mask and smiling sweetly down at Captain Enderly. 

"It's a sharp run to Gretna Green, " she said. "If you can detain thegentleman who follows us we will not forget the service, CaptainEnderly!"

"By Heaven!" he exclaimed, his perplexed face clearing into grinningcomprehension. And to the sentries: "Fall back there, lads! Free wayfor'ard!" he cried. "Now, Carus! Madam, your most obedient!"

The steady thud of galloping horses sounded nearer behind us. I turned, expecting to see the horsemen, but they were still screened by thehill. 

"Luck to you!" muttered Enderly, as we swung into a canter, our horses'hoofs drumming thunder on the quivering planks that jumped beneath usas we spurred to a gallop. Ah! They were shouting now, behind us! They, too, had heard the echoing tattoo we beat across the bridge. 

"Pray God that young man holds them!" she whispered, pale face turned. "There they are! They spy us now! They are riding at the bridge! Mercyon us! the soldiers have a horse by the bit, forcing him back. Theyhave stopped Mr. Butler. _Now_, Carus!"

Into the sand once more we plunged, riding at a sheer run through thesemidarkness of the forest that closed in everywhere; on, on, the windwhistling in our teeth, her hair blowing, and her gilt-laced hat flyingfrom the silken cord that held it to her shoulder. How grandly herblack mare bore her--the slight, pale-faced figure sitting the saddlewith such perfect grace and poise!

The road swung to the east, ascending in long spirals. Then through thetrees I caught the glimmer of water--the Bronx River--and beyond I sawa stubble-field all rosy in the first rays of the rising sun. 

The ascent was steeper now. Our horses slackened to a canter, to atrot, then to a walk as the road rose upward, set with boulders andloose stones. 

I had just turned to caution my companion, and was pointing ahead to adeep washout which left but a narrow path between two jutting boulders, when, without the slightest sound, from the shadow of these same rockssprang two men, long brown rifles leveled. And in silence we drewbridle at the voiceless order from the muzzles of those twin barrelsbearing upon us without a tremor. 

[Illustration: From the shadow . .. Sprang two men, long brown riflesleveled. ]

An instant of suspense; the rifle of the shorter fellow swept fromElsin Grey to me; and I, menaced by both weapons, sat on my heavilybreathing horse, whose wise head and questioning ears reconnoiteredthese strange people who checked us at the rocky summit of the hill. For they were strange, silent folk, clothed in doeskin from neck toankle, and alike as two peas in their caped hunting-shirts, belted inwith scarlet wampum, and the fringe falling in soft cascades fromshoulder to cuff, from hip to ankle, following the laced seams. 

My roan had become nervous, shaking his head and backing, and Elsin'srestive mare began sidling across their line of fire. 

"Rein in, madam!" came a warning voice--"and you, sir! Stand fastthere! Now, young man, from which party do you come?"

"From the lower, " I answered cheerfully, "and happy to be clear ofthem. "

"And with which party do you foregather, my gay cock o' the woods?"

"With the upper party, friend. "

"Friend!" sneered the taller fellow, lowering his rifle and casting itinto the hollow of his left arm. "It strikes me that you are somewhatsudden with your affections--" He came sauntering forward, a giant inhis soft, clinging buckskins, talking all the while in an irritablevoice: "Friend? Maybe, and maybe not, " he grumbled; "all eggs don'thatch into dickey-birds, nor do all rattlers beat the long roll. " Helaid a sudden hand on my bridle, looking up at me with swaggeringimpudence, which instantly changed into amazed recognition. 

"Gad-a-mercy!" he cried, delighted; "is it you, Mr. Renault?"

"It surely is, " I said, drawing a long breath of relief to find inthese same forest-runners my two drovers, Mount and the little Weasel. 

"How far is it to the lines, friend Mount?"

"Not far, not very far, Mr. Renault, " he said. "There should be a postof Jersey militia this side o' Valentine's, and we're like to see abrace of Sheldon's dragoons at any moment. Lord, sir, but I'm contentedto see you, for I was loath to leave you in York, and Walter Butlerthere untethered, ranging the streets, free as a panther on a sunsetcliff!"

The Weasel, rifle at a peaceful trail, came trotting up beside hisgiant comrade, standing on tiptoe to link arms with him, his solemnowl-like eyes roaming from Elsin Grey to me. 

I named them to Elsin. She regarded them listlessly from her saddle, and they removed their round skull-caps of silver moleskin and bowed toher. 

"I never thought to be so willing to meet rebel riflemen, " she said, patting her horse's mane and glancing at me. 

"Lord, Cade!" whispered Mount to his companion, "he's stolen a Torymaid from under their very noses! Make thy finest bow, man, for thecredit o' Morgan's Men!"

And again the strange pair bowed low, caps in hand, the Weasel withquiet, quaint dignity, Mount with his elaborate rustic swagger, and aflourish peculiar to the forest-runner, gay, reckless, yet withalrespectful. 

A faint smile touched her eyes as she inclined her proud little head. Mount looked up at me. I nodded; and the two riflemen wheeled in theirtracks and trotted forward, Mount leading, and his solemn littlecomrade following at heel, close as a hound. When they had disappearedover the hill's rocky summit our horses moved forward at a walk, breasting the crest, then slowly descended the northern slope, pickingtheir way among the loosened slate and pebbles. 

And now for the first time came to me a delicious thrill of exaltationin my new-found liberty. Free at last of that prison city. Free at lastto look all men between the eyes. Free to bear arms, and use them, too, under a flag I had not seen in four long years save as they brought inour captured colors--a ragged, blood-blackened rag or two to matchthose silken standards lost at Bennington and Saratoga. 

I looked up into the cloudless sky, I looked around me. I saw the talltrees tinted by the sun, I felt a free wind blowing from that wildnorth I loved so well. 

I drew my lungs full. I opened wide my arms, easing each crampedmuscle. I stretched my legs to the stirrup's length in sweetestcontent. 

Down through a fragrant birch-grown road, smelling of fern andwintergreen and sassafras, we moved, the cool tinkle of moss-chokedwatercourses ever in our ears, mingling with melodies of woodlandbirds--shy, freedom-loving birds that came not with the robins to thecity. Ah, I knew these birds, being country-bred--knew them one andall--the gray hermit, holy chorister of hymn divine, the white-throat, sweetly repeating his allegiance to his motherland of Canada, the greatscarlet-tufted cock that drums on the bark in stillest depths, thelonely little creeping-birds that whimper up and down the trunks offorest trees, and the black-capped chickadee that fears not man, butcities--all these I listened to, and knew and loved as guerdons of thatfreedom which I had so long craved, and craved in vain. 

And now I had it; it was mine! I tasted it, I embraced it with widearms, I breathed it. And far away I heard the woodland hermits singingof freedom, and of the sweetness of it, and of the mercies of the MostHigh. 

Thrilled with happiness, I glanced at Elsin Grey where she rode a paceor so ahead of me, her fair head bent, her face composed but colorlessas the lace drooping from her stock. The fatigue of a sleepless nightwas telling on her, though as yet the reaction of the strain had notaffected me one whit. 

She raised her head as I forced my horse forward to her side. "What isit, Mr. Renault?" she asked coldly. 

"I'm sorry you are fatigued, Elsin----"

"I am not fatigued. "

"What! after all you have done for me----"

"I have done nothing for _you_, Mr. Renault. "

"Nothing?--when I owe you everything that----"

"You owe me nothing that I care to accept. "

"My thanks----"

"I tell you you owe me nothing. Let it rest so!"

Her unfriendly eyes warned me to silence, but I said bluntly:

"That Mr. Cunningham is not this moment fiddling with my neck, I owe toyou. I offer my thanks, and I remain at your service. That is all. "

"Do you think, " she answered quietly, "that a rebel hanged couldinterest me unless that hanging smirched my kin?"

"Elsin! Elsin!" I said, "is there not bitterness enough in the worldbut you and I must turn our friendship into hate?"

"What do you care whether it turn to hate or--love?" She laughed, butthere was no mirth in her eyes. "You are free; you have done your duty;your brother rebels will reward you. What further have I to do withyou, Mr. Renault? You have used me, you have used my kin, my friends. Not that I blame you--nay, Mr. Renault, I admire, I applaud, Iunderstand more than you think. I even count him brave who can go outas you have done, scornful of life, pitiless of friendships formed, reckless of pleasure, of what men call their code of honor; indifferentto the shameful death that hovers like a shadow, and the scorn of all, even of friends--for a spy has no friends, if discovered. All this, sir, I comprehend, spite of my few years which once--when we werefriends--you in your older wisdom found amusing. " She turned sharplyaway, brushing her eyelashes with gloved fingers. 

Presently she looked straight ahead again, a set smile on her tightlips. 

"The puppets in New York danced to the tune you whistled, " she said, "and because you danced, too, they never understood that you weremaster of the show. Oh, we all enjoyed the dance, sir--I, too, servingyour designs as all served. Now you have done with us, and it remainsfor us to make our exits as gracefully as may be. "

She made a little salute with her riding-whip--gracious, quite free ofmockery. 

"The fortune of war, Mr. Renault, " she said. "Salute to the conqueror!"

"Only a gallant enemy admits as much, " I answered, flushing. 

"Mr. Renault, am I your enemy?"

"Elsin, I fear you are. "

"Why? Because you waked me from my dream?"

"What dream? That nightmare tenanted by Walter Butler that haunted you?Is it not fortunate that you awoke in time, even if you had loved him?But you never did!"

"No, I never loved him. But that was not the dream you waked me from. "

"More than that, child, you do not know what love means. How should youknow? Why, even I do not know, and I am twenty-three. "

"Once, " she said, smiling, "I told you that there is no happiness inlove. It is the truth, Mr. Renault; there is no joy in it. That much Iknow of love. Now, sir, as you admit you know nothing of it, you cannot contradict me, can you?"

She smiled gaily, leaning forward in her saddle, stroking her horse'smane. 

"No, I am not your enemy, " she continued. "There is enough of war inthe world, is there not, Mr. Renault? And I shall soon be on my way toCanada. Were I your enemy, how impotent am I to compass yourdestruction--impotent as a love-sick maid who chooses as her gallant agentleman most agreeable, gently bred, faultless in conduct andaddress, upon whose highly polished presence she gazes, seeking depth, and finds but her own silly face mirrored on the surface. "

She turned from me and raised her head, gazing up through interlacingbranches into the blue above. 

"Ah, we must be friends, Carus, " she said wearily; "we have cost eachother too dear. "

"I have cost you dear enough, " I muttered. 

"Not too dear for all you have taught me. "

"What have I taught you?"

"To know a dream from the reality, " she said listlessly. 

"Better you should learn from me than from Walter Butler, " I saidbluntly. 

"From him! Why, he taught me nothing. I fell in love again--really inlove--for an hour or two--spite of the lesson he could not teach me. Itell you he taught me nothing--not even to distrust the vows of men. Ifit was a wrong he dared to meditate, it touches not me, Carus--touchesme no more than his dishonoring hand, which he never dared to lay uponme. "

"What do you mean?" I asked, troubled. "Have you taken a brief fancy toanother? Do you imagine that you are in love again? What is it that youmean, Elsin?"

"Mean? God knows. I am tired to the soul, Carus. I have no prideleft--not a shred--nothing of resentment. I fancy I love--yes--and themad fancy drags me on, trailing pride, shame, and becoming modestyafter me in the dust. " She laughed, flinging her arm out in animpatient gesture: "What is this war to me, Carus, save as it concernshim? In Canada we wag our heads and talk of rebels; here we speak ofred-coats and patriots; and it's all one to me, Carus, so that nodishonor touches the man I love or my own Canada. Your country here isnothing to me except for the sake of this one man. "

She turned toward me from her saddle. 

"You may be right, you rebels, " she said. "If aught threatened Canada, no loyalty to a King whom I have never seen could stir me to forsake myown people. That is why I am so bitter, I think; not because SirFrederick Haldimand is kin to me, but because your people dared tostorm Quebec. "

"Those who marched thither march no more, " I said gravely. 

"Then let it be peace betwixt us. My enmity stops at the grave--andthey march no more, as you say. "

"Do you give me your friendship again, Elsin?"

She raised her eyes and looked at me steadily. 

"It was yours before you asked me, Carus. It has always been yours. Ithas never faltered for one moment even when I said the things that ahurt pride forced from me. " She shook her head slowly, reining in. I, too, drew bridle. 

"The happiest moment of my life was when I knew that I had been theinstrument to unlock for you the door of safety, " she said, andstripped the glove from her white fingers. "Kiss my hand and thank me, Carus. It is all I ask of friendship. "

Her hand lay at my lips, pressed gently for an instant, then fell toher side. 

"Dear, dear Elsin!" I cried, catching her hand in both of mine again, crushing it to my lips. 

"Don't, Carus, " she said tremulously. "If you--if you do that--youmight--you might conceive a--a regard for me. "

"Lord, child!" I exclaimed, "you but this moment confessed your fancyfor a man of whose very name and quality I stand in ignorance!"

She drew her hand away, laughing, a tenderness in her eyes I never hadsurprised there before. 

"Silly, " she said, "you know how inconstant I can be; you must neveragain caress me as you did--that first evening--do you remember? If wedo that--if I suffer you to kiss me, maybe we both might find ourselvesat love's mercy. "

"You mean we might really be in love?" I asked curiously. 

"I do not know. Do you think so?"

I laughed gaily, bending to search her eyes. 

"What is love, Elsin? Truly, I do not know, having never loved, as youmean. Sir Peter wishes it; and here we are, with all the credit ofGretna Green but none of the happiness. Elsin, listen to me. Let usstrive to fall in love; shall we? And the devil take your new gallant!"

"If you desire it----"

"Why not? It would please all, would it not?"

"But, Carus, we must first please one another----"

"Let us try, Elsin. I have dreamed of a woman--not like you, butstatelier, more mature, and of more experience, but I never saw such awoman; and truly I never before saw so promising a maid as you. Surelywe might teach one another to love--if you are not too young----"

"I do not think I am, " she said faintly. 

"Then let us try. Who knows but you may grow into that ideal I cherish?I shall attend you constantly, pay court to you, take counsel with you, defer to you in all things----"

"But I shall be gone northward with the flag, Carus. "

"A flag may not start for a week. "

"But when it does?"

"By that time, " said I, "we will be convinced in one fashion oranother. "

"Maybe one of us will take fire slowly. "

"Let us try it, anyhow, " I insisted. 

She bent her head, riding in silence for a while. 

"Sweetheart, " I said, "are you hungry?"

"Oh!" she cried, crimson-cheeked, "have you begun already? And am I--amI to say that, too?"

"Not unless you--you want to. "

"I dare not, Carus. "

"It is not hard, " I said; "it slipped from my lips, following mythoughts. Truly, Elsin, I love you dearly--see how easily I say it! Ilove you in one kind of way already. One of these days, before we knowwhat we're doing, we'll be married, and Sir Peter will be the happiestman in New York. "

"Sir Peter! Sir Peter!" she repeated impatiently; a frown gathered onher brow. She swung toward me, leaning from her saddle, faceoutstretched. 

"Carus, " she said, "kiss me! Now do it again, on the lips. Now again!There! Now that you do it of your own accord you are advanced so far. Oh, this is dreadful, dreadful! We have but a week, and we are thatbackward in love that I must command you to kiss me! Where shall we bethis day week--how far advanced, if you think only of courting me toplease Sir Peter?"

"Elsin, " I said, after a moment's deliberation, "I'm ready to kiss youagain. "

"For Sir Peter's sake?"

"Partly. "

"No, sir!" she said, turning her head; "that advances us nothing. "

After a silence I said again:

"Elsin!"

"Yes, Carus. "

"I'm ready. "

"For Sir Peter's sake?"

"No, for my own. "

"Ah, " she said gaily, turning a bright face to me, "we are advancing!Now, it is best that I refuse you--unless you force me and take whatyou desire. I accord no more--nothing more from this moment--until Igive myself! and I give not that, either, until you take it!" sheadded, and cast her horse forward at a gallop, I after her, leaningwide from my saddle, until our horses closed in, bounding on in perfectstride together. Now was my chance. 

"Carus! I beg of you--" Her voice was stifled, for I had put my armaround her neck and pressed her half-opened lips to mine. "You advancetoo quickly!" she said, flushed and furious. "Do you think to win amaid by mauling whether she will or no? I took no pleasure in thatkiss, and it is a shame when both are not made happy. Besides, you hurtme with your roughness. I pray you keep your distance!"

I did so, perplexed, and a trifle sulky, and for a while we jogged onin silence. 

Suddenly she reined in, turning her face over her shoulder. 

"Look, Carus, " she whispered, "there are horsemen coming!"

A moment later a Continental dragoon trotted into sight around thecurve of the road, then another and another. 

We were within the lines at last. 

CHAPTER VII

THE BLUE FOX

Elsin had slept all the bright morning through in her little room atthe Blue Fox Tavern, whither Colonel Sheldon's horsemen had conductedus. My room adjoined hers, the window looking out upon the Bronx whereit flowed, shallow and sunny, down from the wooded slopes of NorthCastle and Chatterton's Hill. But I heeded neither the sparkling waternor the trees swaying in the summer wind, nor the busy little hamletacross the mill-dam, nor Abe Case, the landlord, with his goodintentions, pressed too cordially, though he meant nothing exceptkindness. 

"Listen to me, " I said, boots in hand, and laying down the law; "werequire neither food nor drink nor service nor the bridal-chamberswhich you insist upon. The lady will sleep where she is, I here; and ifyou dare awaken me before noonday I shall certainly discharge theseboots in your direction!"

Whereupon he seemed to understand and bowed himself out; and I, lyingthere on the great curtained bed, watched the sunlight stealing throughthe flowered canopy until the red roses fell to swaying in an unfeltwind, and I, dreaming, wandered in a garden with that lady I sometimessaw in visions. And, Lord! how happy we were there together, only atmoments I felt abashed and sorry, for I thought I saw Elsin lying onthe grass, so still, so limp, that I knew she must be dead, and I heardmen whispering that she had died o' love, and that I and my lady wereto dig the grave at moonrise. 

A fitful slumber followed, threaded by dreams that vaguely troubledme--visions of horsemen riding, and of painted faces and dark headsshaved for war. Again into my dream a voice broke, repeating, "Thendara! Thendara!" until it grew to a dull and deadened sound, likethe hollow thud of Wyandotte witch-drums. 

I slept, yet every loosened nerve responded to the relaxing tension ofexcitement. Twice I dreamed that some one roused me, and that I wasdressing in mad haste, only to sink once more into a sleep whichglimmered ever with visions passing, passing in processional, until atnoon I awoke of my own accord, and was bathed and partly dressed erethe landlord came politely scratching at my door to know my pleasure. 

"A staff-officer from his Excellency, Mr. Renault, " he said, as I badehim enter, tying my stock the while. 

"Very well, " I said; "show him up. And, landlord, when the lady awakes, you may serve us privately. "

He bowed himself out, and presently I heard spurs and a sword jinglingon the stairs, and turned to receive his Excellency's staff-officer--avery elegant and polite young man in a blue uniform, faced with buff, and white-topped boots. 

"Mr. Renault?" he asked, raising his voice and eyebrows a trifle; and Ithink I never saw such a careless, laughing, well-bred countenance inwhich were set two eyes as shrewdly wise as the eyes of this young man. 

"I am Mr. Renault, " I said amiably, smiling at the mirth which twitchedthe gravity he struggled to assume. 

"Colonel Hamilton of his Excellency's family, " he said, making aselegant a bow as I ever had the honor to attempt to match. 

We were very ceremonious, bowing repeatedly as we seated ourselves, helifting his sword and laying it across his knees. And I admired hishat, which was new and smartly laced, and cocked in the mostfashionable manner--which small details carry some weight with me, Idistrusting men whose dress is slovenly from indifference and not frompenury. His Excellency was ever faultless in attire; and I rememberthat he wrote in general orders on New Year's day in '76: "If a soldiercan not be induced to take pride in his person, he will soon become asloven and indifferent to everything. "

"Mr. Renault, " began Colonel Hamilton, "his Excellency has yourletters. He regrets that a certain sphere of usefulness is now closedto you through your own rashness. "

I reddened, bowing. 

"It appears, however, " continued Colonel Hamilton placidly, "that yourestimate of yourself is too humble. His Excellency thanks you, applaudsyour modesty and faithfulness in the most trying service a gentlemancan render to his country, and desires me to express the same----"

He rose and bowed. I was on my feet, confused, amazed, tingling withpleasure. 

"His Excellency said--_that!_" I repeated incredulously. 

"Indeed he did, Mr. Renault, and he regrets that--ahem--under thecircumstances--it is not advisable to publicly acknowledge your fouryears' service--not even privately, Mr. Renault--you understand thatsuch services as yours must be, in a great measure, their own reward. Yet I know that his Excellency hesitated a long while to send me withthis verbal message, so keenly did he desire to receive you, sograteful is he for the service rendered. "

I was quite giddy with delight now. Never, never had I imagined thatthe Commander-in-Chief could single me out for such generouspraise--me, a man who had lent himself to a work abhorrent--a worktaken up only because there was none better fitted to accomplish athing that all shrank from. 

Seated once more, I looked up to see Colonel Hamilton regarding me withdecorous amusement. 

"It may interest you, Mr. Renault, to know what certain British agentsreported to Sir Henry Clinton concerning you. "

"What did they say?" I asked curiously. 

"They said, 'Mr. Renault is a rich young man who thinks more of hisclothes than he does of politics, and is safer than a guineawig-stand!'"

His face was perfectly grave, but the astonished chagrin on mycountenance set his keen eyes glimmering, and in a moment more we bothwent off into fits of laughter. 

"Lord, sir!" he exclaimed, dusting his eyes with a lace handkerchief, "what a man we lost when you lost your head! Why on earth did youaffront Walter Butler?"

I leaned forward, emphasizing every point with a noiseless slap on myknee, and recounted minutely and as frankly as I could every step whichled to the first rupture between Walter Butler and myself. He followedmy story, intelligent eyes fixed on me, never losing an accent, a shadeof expression, as I narrated our quarrel concerning the matter of theOneidas, and how I had forgotten myself and had turned on him as anIroquois on a Delaware, a master on an insolent slave. 

"From that instant he must have suspected me, " I said, leaning back inmy chair. "And now, Colonel Hamilton, my story is ended, and myusefulness, too, I fear, unless his Excellency will find for me someplace--perhaps a humble commission--say in the dragoons of MajorTalmadge----"

"You travel too modestly, " said Hamilton, laughing. "Why, Mr. Renault, any bullet-headed, reckless fellow who has done as much as you havedone may ask for a commission and have it, too. Look at me! I never didanything, yet they found me good enough for a gun captain, and theygave me a pair o' cannon, too. But, sir, there are other places withfew to fill them--far too few, I assure you. Why, what a shame to setyou with a noisy, galloping herd of helmets, chasing skinners andcowboys with a brace of gad-a-mercy pistols in your belt!--what ashame, I say, when in you there lie talents we seek in vain for amongthe thousand and one numskulls who can drill a battalion or maneuver abrigade!"

"What talents?" I asked, astonished. 

"Lord! he doesn't even suspect them!" cried Hamilton gaily. "I wish youmight meet a few of our talented brigadiers and colonels; _they_ have nodoubts concerning their several abilities!" Then, suddenly serious:"Listen, sir. You know the north; you were bred and born to a knowledgeof the Iroquois, their language, character, habits, their intimatesocial conditions, nay, you are even acquainted with what no otherliving white man comprehends--their secret rites, their clan and familylaws and ties, their racial instincts, their most sacred rituals! Youare a sachem! Sir William Johnson was one, but he is dead. Who elseliving, besides yourself, can speak to the Iroquois with clanauthority?"

"I do not know, " I said, troubled. "Walter Butler may know something ofthe Book of Rites, because he was raised up in place of some deadDelaware dog!--" I clinched my hand, and stood silent in angrymeditation. Lifting my eyes I saw Hamilton watching me, amazed, interested, delighted. 

"I ask your indulgence, " I said, embarrassed, "but when I think of theinsolence of that fellow--and that he dared call me brother and claimclan kindred with a Wolf--the yellow Delaware mongrel!--" I laughed, glancing shamefacedly at Colonel Hamilton. 

"In another moment, " I said, "you will doubt there is white blood inme. It is strange how faithfully I cling to that dusky foster-mother, the nation that adopted me. I was but a lad, Colonel Hamilton, and whatthe Oneidas saw in me, or believed they saw, I never have accuratelylearned--I do not really know to this day!--but when a war-chief diedthey came to my father, asking that he permit them to adopt me andraise me up. The ceremony took place. I, of course, never lived withthem--never even left my own roof--but I was adopted into the WolfClan, the noble clan of the Iroquois. And--I have never forgottenit--nor them. What touches an Oneida touches me!"

He nodded gravely, watching me with bright eyes. 

"To-day the Long House is not the Five Nations, " I continued. "TheTuscaroras are the Sixth Nation; the Delawares now have come in, andhave been accepted as the Seventh Nation. But, as you know, the LongHouse is split. The Onondagas are sullenly neutral--or say theyare--the Mohawks, Cayugas, Senecas, are openly leagued against us; theOneidas alone are with us--what is left of them after the terriblepunishment they received from the Mohawks and Senecas. "

"And now you say that the Iroquois have determined to punish theOneidas again?"

"Yes, sir, to annihilate them for espousing our cause. And, " I addedcontemptuously, "Walter Butler dared believe that I would sit idle andnever lift a warning finger. True, I am first of all a Wolf--but nextam I an Oneida. And, as I may not sit in national council with my clanto raise my voice against this punishment, and, as the Long House isrent asunder forever, why, sir, I am an Oneida first of all--after myallegiance to my own country--and I shall so conduct that Walter Butlerand the Delaware dogs of a cleft and yellow clan will remember thatwhen an Oneida speaks, they remain silent, they obey!"

I began to pace the chamber, arms folded, busy with my thoughts. Hamilton sat buried in meditation for a space. Finally he arose, extending his hand with that winning frankness so endearing to all. Iasked him to dine with us, but he excused himself, pleading affairs ofmoment. 

"Listen, Mr. Renault. I understand that his Excellency has certaindesigns upon your amiability, and he most earnestly desires you toremain here at the Blue Fox until such time as he summons you or sendsyou orders. You are an officer of Tryon County militia, are you not?"

"Only ensign in the Rangers, but I never have even seen their colors, much less carried them. "

"You know Colonel Willett?"

"I have that very great honor, " I said warmly. 

"It _is_ an honor to know such a man. Excepting Schuyler, I think he isthe bravest, noblest gentleman in County Tryon. " He walked toward thedoor, head bowed in reflection, turned, offered his hand again with acharming freedom, and bowed himself out. 

Pride and deepest gratitude possessed my heart that his Excellencyshould have found me worthy of his august commendation. In my younghead rang the words of Colonel Hamilton. I stood in the center of thesunny room, repeating to myself the wonderful message, over and over, until it seemed my happiness was too great to bear alone; and I leanedclose to the dividing door, calling "Elsin! Elsin! Are you awake?"

A sleepy voice bade me enter, and I opened the door and stood at thesill, while the brightly flowered curtains of her bed rustled andtwitched. Presently she thrust a sleepy head forth, framed in chintzroses--the flushed face of a child, drowsy eyes winking at thesunbeams, powdered hair twisted up in a heavy knot. 

"Goodness me, " she murmured, "I am so hungry--so sleepy--" She yawnedshamelessly, blinked with her blue eyes, looked at me, and smiled. 

"What o'clock is it, Carus?" she began; then a sudden consternationsobered her, and she cried, "Oh, I forgot where we are! Mercy! To thinkthat I should wake to find myself a runaway! Carus, Carus, what in theworld is to become of me now? Where are we, Carus?"

"At the Blue Fox, near North Castle, " I said gaily. "Why, Elsin--why, child, what on earth is the matter?"--for the tears had rushed to hereyes, and her woful little face quivered. A single tear fell, then thewet lashes closed. 

"O Carus! Carus!" she said, "what will become of me? You did it--youmade me do it! I've run away with you--why did you make me do it? Oh, why, why?"

Dumb, miserable, I could only look at her, finding no word ofcomfort--amazed, too, that the feverish spirit, the courage, theamazing energy of the night before had exhaled, distilling now in thetears which dazed me. 

"I don't know why I came here with you, " she whimpered, eyes closed onher wet cheeks--"I must have been mad to do so. What will theysay?--what will Rosamund say? Why don't you speak to me, Carus? Whydon't you tell me what to do?"

And this from that high-strung, nerveless maid who had matured towomanhood in the crisis of the night before--seizing command of amenacing situation through sheer effrontery and wit, compelling fateitself to swerve aside as she led our galloping horses through theslowly closing gates of peril. 

Her head drooped and lay on the edge of the bed pillowed by theflowered curtains; she rubbed the tears from her eyes with whitefingers, drawing a deep, unsteady breath or two. 

I had found my voice at last, assuring her that all was well, that sheshould have a flag when she desired it, that here nobody knew who shewas, and that when she was dressed I was ready to discuss the situationand do whatever was most advisable. 

"If there's a scandal, " she said dolefully, "I suppose I must ask aflag at once. "

"That would be best, " I admitted. 

"But there's no scandal yet, " she protested. 

"Not a breath!" I cried cheerfully. "You see, we have the situation inour own hands. Where is that wit, where is that gay courage you worelike magic armor through the real perils of yesterday?"

"Gone, " she said, looking up at me. "I don't know where it is--I--I wasnot myself yesterday. I was frightened--terror spurred me to things Inever dreamed of when I thought of you hanging there on the Common----"

"You blessed child!" I cried, dropping on one knee beside her. 

She laid her hand on my head, looking at me for a long while insilence. 

"I can not help it, " she said. "I really care nothing for what folksay. All this that we have done--and my indiscretion--nay, that we haverun away and I am here with you--all this alarms me not at all. Indeed, " she added earnestly, "I do truly find you so agreeable that Ishould have fretted had you gone away alone. Now I am honest withmyself and you, Carus--this matter has sobered me into gravestreflection. I have the greatest curiosity concerning you--I had fromthe very first--spite of all that childish silliness we committed. Idon't know what it is about you that I can not let you go until I learnmore of you. Perhaps I shall--we have a week here before a flag goesnorth, have we not?" she asked naïvely. 

"The flag goes at your pleasure, Elsin. "

"Then it is my pleasure that we remain a while--and see--and see--" shemurmured, musing eyes fixed on the sunny window. "I would we could fallin love, Carus!"

"We are pledged to try, " I said gaily. 

"Aye, we must try. Lord-a-mercy on me, for my small head is filled withsilliness, and my heart beats only for the vain pleasure of the moment. A hundred times since I have known you, Carus, I would have sworn Iloved you--then something that you say or do repels me--or something, perhaps, of my own inconstancy--and only that intense curiosityconcerning you remains. That is not love, is it?"

"I think not. "

"Yet look how I set my teeth and drove blindly full tilt at Destinywhen I thought you stood in peril! Do women do such things forfriendship's sake?"

"Men do--I don't know. You are a faultless friend, at any rate. And onthat friendship we must build. "

"With your indifference and my vanity and inconstancy? God send it beno castle of cards, Carus! Tell me, have you, too, a stinging curiosityconcerning me? Do you desire to fathom my shallow spirit, to learn whatevery passing smile might indicate, to understand me when I am silent, to comprehend me when I converse with others?"

"I--I have thought of these things, Elsin. Never having understoodyou--judging hastily, too--and being so intimately busy with the--thematters you know of--I never pursued my studies far--deeming youbetrothed and--and----"

"A coquette?"

"A child, Elsin, heart-free and capricious, contradictory, imperious, and--and overyoung----"

"O Carus!"

"I meant no reproach, " I said hastily. "A nectarine requires time, eventhough the sunlight paints it so prettily in all its unripe, flawlesssymmetry. And I have--I have lived all my life in sober company. Myfather was old, my mother placid and saddened by the loss of all herchildren save myself. I had few companions--none of my own age exceptwhen we went to Albany, where I learned to bear myself in company. AtJohnson Hall, at Varick's, at Butlersbury, I was but a shy lad, warnedby my parents to formality, for they approved little of the gaiety thatI would gladly have joined in. And so I know nothing of women--nor didI learn much in New York, where the surface of life is so prettilypolished that it mirrors, as you say, only one's own inquiring eyes. "

I seated myself cross-legged on the floor, looking up at the sweet faceon the bed's edge framed by the chintz. 

"Did you never conceive an affection?" she asked, watching me. 

"Why, yes--for a day or two. I think women tire of me. "

"No, you tire of them. "

"Only when----"

"When what?"

"Nothing, " I said quietly. 

"Do you mean when they fall in love with you?" she asked. 

"They don't. Some have plagued me to delight in my confusion. "

"Like Rosamund Barry?"

I was silent. 

"She, " observed Elsin musingly, "was mad about you. No, you need notlaugh or shrug impatiently--_I_ know, Carus; she was mad to have youlove her! Do you think I have neither eyes nor ears? But you treated herno whit better than you treated me. That I am certain of--did you?"

"What do you mean?"

"_Did_ you?"

"Did I do what?"

"Treat Rosamund Barry kinder than you did me?"

"In what way?"

"Did you kiss her?"

"Never!"

"Would you say 'Never!' if you had?"

"No, I should say nothing. "

"I knew it!" she cried, laughing. "I was certain of it. But, mercy onus, there were scores more women in New York--and I mean to ask youabout each one, Carus, each separate one--some time--but, oh, I am sohungry now!"

I sprang to my feet, and walking into my chamber closed the door. 

"Talk to me through the keyhole!" she called. "I shall tie my hair in aclub, and bathe me and clothe me very quickly. Are you there, Carus? Doyou hear what I say?"

So I leaned against the door and chatted on about Colonel Hamilton, until I ventured to hint at some small word of praise for me from hisExcellency. With that she was at the door, all eagerness: "Oh, Carus! Iknew you were brave and true! Did his Excellency say so? And well hemight, too!--with you, a gentleman, facing the vilest of deaths therein New York, year after year. I am so glad, so proud of you, Carus, sohappy! What have they made you--a major-general?"

"Oh, not yet, " I said, laughing. 

"And why not?" she exclaimed hotly. 

"Elsin, if you don't dress quickly I'll sit at breakfast without you!"I warned her. 

"Oh, I will, I will; I'm lacing--something--this very instant! Carus, when I bid you, you may come in and tie my shoulder-points. Wait amoment, silly! Just one more second. Now!"

As I entered she came up to me, turning her shoulder, and I threadedthe points clumsily enough, I suppose, but she thanked me very sweetly, turned to the mirror, patted the queue-ribbon to a flamboyant allure, and, catching my hand in hers, pointed at the glass which reflected usboth. 

"Look at us!" she exclaimed, "look at the two runaways! Goodness, Ishould never have believed it, Carus!"

We stood a moment, hand clasping hand, curiously regarding the mirroredfaces that smiled back so strangely at us. Then, somewhat subdued andthoughtful, we walked out through my chamber into a sunny littlebreakfast-room where landlord and servant received us a trifle toosolemnly, and placed us at the cloth. 

"Their owlish eyes mean Gretna Green, " whispered Elsin, leaning closeto me; "but what do we care, Carus? And they think us married in NewYork. Now, sir, if you ever wished to see how a hungry maid can eatTapaan soupaan, you shall see now!"

The Tapaan hasty-pudding was set before us, and in a twinkling we werebusy as bees in clover. Pompions and clingstone peaches went the way ofthe soupaan; a dish of troutlings followed, and out of the corner of myeye I saw other dainties coming and rejoiced. Lord, what a pair ofappetites were there! I think the Blue Fox must have licked his paintedchops on the swinging sign under the window to see how we did fulljustice to the fare, slighting nothing set before us. And while theservants were running hither and thither with dishes and glasses Iquestioned the landlord, who was evidently prodigiously impressed withColonel Hamilton's visit; and I gathered from mine host that, exceptingfor ourselves, all the other guests were officers of various degrees, and that, thanks to the nearness of the army and the consequentscarcity of skinners, business was brisk and profitable, for which hethanked God and his Excellency. 

Elsin, resting one elbow on the table, listened and looked out into thevillage street where farmers and soldiers were passing, some arm inarm, gravely smoking their clay pipes and discussing matters in thesunshine, others entering or leaving the few shops where every sort ofware was exposed for sale, still others gathered on the bridge, somefishing in the Bronx, some looking on or reading fresh newspapers fromNew England or Philadelphia, or a stale and tattered Gazette which hadfound its way out of New York. 

At a nod from me the landlord signaled the servants and withdrew, leaving us there alone together with a bottle of claret on the tableand a dish of cakes and raisins. 

"So these good folk are rebels, " mused Elsin, gazing at the people inthe street below. "They seem much like other people, Carus. "

"They are, " I said, laughing. 

"Well, " she said, "they told me otherwise in New York. But I can see novery great ferocity in your soldiers' countenances. Nor do they dressin rags. Mr. De Lancey told me that the Continentals scarce mustered apair of breeches to a brigade. "

"It has been almost as bad as that, " I said gravely. "These troops areno doubt clothed in uniforms sent from France, but I fear there arerags and to spare in the south, where Greene and Lafayette are harryingCornwallis--God help them!"

"Amen, " she said softly, looking at me. 

Touched as I had never been by her, I held out my hand; she laid hersin mine gravely. 

"So that they keep clear of Canada, I say God speed men who stand fortheir own homes, Carus! But, " she added innocently, "I could not beindifferent to a cause which you serve. Come over here to thewindow--draw your chair where you can see. Look at that officer, howgallant he is in his white uniform faced with green!"

"That is a French officer, " I said. "Those three soldiers passingyonder who wear white facing on their blue coats, and blackspatterdashes from ankle to thigh, are infantry of the New Englandline. The soldiers smoking under the tree are New York and New Jerseymen; they wear buff copper-clouts, and their uniform is buff and blue. Maryland troops wear red facings; the Georgia line are faced with blue, edged around by white. There goes an artilleryman; he's all blue andscarlet, with yellow on his hat; and here stroll a dozen dragoons inhelmet and jack-boots and blue jackets laced, lined, and faced withwhite. Ah, Elsin, these same men have limped barefoot, half-naked, through snow and sun because his Excellency led them. "

"It is strange, " she said, "how you turn grave and how a hush comes, alittle pause of reverence, whenever you name--his Excellency. Do all sostand in awe of him?"

"None names him lightly, Elsin. "

"Have you ever seen him?"

"Never, child. "

"And yet you approach even his name in hushed respect. "

"Yes, even his name. I should like to see him, " I continued wistfully, "to hear him speak once, to meet his calm eye. But I never shall. Myservice is of such a nature that it is inexpedient for him to receiveme openly. So I never shall see him--save, perhaps, when the long warends--God knows----"

She dropped her hand on mine and leaned lightly back against myshoulder. 

"You must not fret, " she murmured. "Remember that staff-officer said hepraised you. "

"I do, I do remember!" I repeated gratefully. "It was a reward I neverdared expect--never dreamed of. His Excellency has been kind to me, indeed. "

It was now past four o'clock in the afternoon, and Elsin, who had notedthe wares in the shop-windows, desired to price the few simple goodsoffered for sale; so we went out into the dusty village street to seewhat was to be seen, but the few shops we entered were full of soldiersand not overclean, and the wares offered for sale were not attractive. I remember she bought points and some stuff for stocks, and needles anda reel of thread, and when she offered a gold piece everybody looked atus, and the shopkeeper called her "My lady" and me "My lord, " and gaveus in change for the gold piece a great handful of paper money. 

We emerged from the shop amazed, and doubtful of the paper stuff, andwalked up the street and out into the country, pausing under a greatmaple-tree to sort this new Continental currency, of which we hadenough to stuff a pillow. 

Scrip by scrip I examined the legal tender of my country, Elsin, herchin on my shoulder, scrutinizing the printed slips of yellow, brown, and red in growing wonder. One slip bore three arrows on it, underwhich was printed:

 Fifty Dollars. Printed by H. A. L. L. And S. E. L. 1778. 

Upon the other side was a pyramid in a double circle, surmounted by thelegend:

 PERENNIS. 

And it was further decorated with the following:

 "No. 16780 Fifty Dollars. This Bill entitles the Bearer to receive Fifty Spanish milled dollars or the value thereof in Gold or Silver, according to the Resolution passed by Congress at Philadelphia, September 26th, 1788. 

 "J. WATKINS; I. K. "

And we had several dozen of these of equal or less denomination. 

"Goodness, " exclaimed Elsin, "was my guinea worth all these dollars?And do you suppose that we could buy anything with these paper bills?"

"Certainly, " I said, loyal to my country's currency; "they're just asgood as silver shillings--if you only have enough of them. "

"But what use will they be to me in Canada?"

That was true enough. I immediately pocketed the mass of paper andtendered her a guinea in exchange, but she refused it, and we had apretty quarrel there under the maple-tree. 

"Carus, " she said at last, "let us keep them, anyhow, and never, neverspend them. Some day we may care to remember this July afternoon, andhow you and I went a-shopping as sober as a wedded pair in HanoverSquare. "

There was a certain note of seriousness in her voice that sobered me, too. I drew her arm through mine, and we strolled out into the sunshineand northward along the little river, where in shallow brown poolsscores of minnows stemmed the current, and we saw the slim trout lyingin schools under the bush's shadows, and the great silver and bluekingfishers winging up and down like flashes of azure fire. 

A mile out a sentinel stopped us, inquiring our business, and as we hadnone we turned back, for it mattered little to us where we sauntered. Farmers were cutting hay in the river-meadows, under the direction of amounted sergeant of dragoons; herds of cattle and sheep grazed amongthe hills, shepherded by soldiers. Every now and again dragoons rodepast us, convoying endless lines of wagons piled up with barrels, crates, sacks of meal, and sometimes with bolts of coarse cloth. 

To escape the dust raised by so many hoofs and wheels we took to thefields and found a shady place on a hill which overlooked the country. Then for the first time I realized the nearness of the army, foreverywhere in the distance white tents gleamed against the green, andbright flags were flying from hillocks, and on a level plain thatstretched away toward the Hudson I saw long dark lines moving, orhalted motionless, with the glimmer of steel playing through thesunshine; and I, for the first time, beheld a brigade of our army atexercise. 

We were too far away to see, yet it was a sight to stir one who hadendured that prison city so long, never seeing a Continental soldierexcept as a prisoner marched through the streets to the jails or thehulks in the river. But there they were--those men of White Plains, ofPrinceton, of Camden, and of the Wilderness--the men of Long Island, and Germantown, and Stony Point!--there they were, wheeling by theright flank, wheeling by the left, marching and countermarching, drilling away, busy as bees in the July sun. 

"Ah, Elsin, " I said, "when they storm New York the man who misses thatsplendid climax will miss the best of his life--and never forget thathe has missed it as long as he lives to mask his vain regret!"

"Why is it that you are not content?" she asked. "For four years youhave moved in the shadow of destruction. "

"But I have never fought in battle, " I said; "never fired a single shotin earnest, never heard the field-horn of the light infantry nor thecavalry-trumpet above the fusillade, never heard the officers shouting, the mad gallop of artillery, the yelling onset--why, I know nothing ofthe pleasures of strife, only the smooth deceit and bland hypocrisy, only the eavesdropping and the ignoble pretense! At times I canscarcely breathe in my desire to wash my honor in the rifle flames--tobe hurled pell-mell among the heaving, straining mêlée, thrusting, stabbing, cutting my fill, till I can no longer hear or see. Fouryears, Elsin! think of it--think of being chained in the midst of thismagnificent activity for four years! And now, when I beg a billet amongthe dragoons, they tell me I am fashioned for diplomacy, not for war, and hint of my usefulness on the frontier!"

"What frontier?" she asked quickly. 

"Tryon County, I suppose. "

"Where that dreadful work never ceases?"

"Hatchet and scalping-knife are ever busy there, " I said grimly. "Whoknows? I may yet have my fill and to spare!"

She sat silent for so long that I presently turned from the distantmartial spectacle to look at her inquiringly. She smiled, drawing along breath, and shaking her head. 

"I never seem to understand you, Carus, " she said. "You have done yourpart, yet it appears already you are planning to go hunting about forsome obliging savage to knock you in the head with a death-maul. "

"But the war is not ended, Elsin. "

"No, nor like to be until it compasses your death. Then, indeed, willit be ended for me, and the world with it!"

"Why, Elsin!" I laughed, "this is a new note in your voice. "

"Is it? Perhaps it is. I told you, Carus, that there is no happiness inlove. And, just now, I love you. It is strange, is it not?--when aughtthreatens you, straightway I begin to sadden and presently fall in lovewith you; but when there's no danger anywhere, and I have nothing tosadden me, why, I'm not at all sure that I love you enough to pass thebalance of the day in your companionship--only that when you are away Idesire to know where you are and what you do, and with whom you walkand talk and laugh. Deary me! deary me! I know not what I want, Carus. Let us go to the Blue Fox and drink a dish of tea. "

We walked back to the inn through the sweetest evening air that I hadbreathed in many a day, Elsin stopping now and then to add a blossom tothe great armful of wild flowers that she had gathered, I lingering, happy in my freedom as a lad loosed from school, now pausing to skipflat stones across the Bronx, now creeping up to the bank to surprisethe trout and see them scatter like winged shadows over the goldengravel, now whistling to imitate that rosy-throated bird who sits sohigh in his black-and-white livery and sings into happiness all whohear him. 

The sun was low over the Jersey highlands; swarms of swallows rose, soared, darted, and dipped in the evening sky. I heard the farcamp-bugles playing softly, the dulled roll of drums among the easternhills; then, as the red sun went out behind the wooded heights, bang!the evening gun's soft thunder shook the silence. And our day wasended. 

CHAPTER VIII

DESTINY

On Sunday, having risen early--though not so early as the post relief, whose day begins as soon as a sentry can see clearly for a thousandyards--I dressed me by the rosy light of the rising sun, and, before Ibreakfasted, wrote a long letter to my parents, who, as I have said, were now residing near Paris, where my great-grandfather's estate lay. 

When I had finished my letter, sanded and sealed it, I went out toleave it with the packages of post matter collected from the Frenchregiments across the Hudson, and destined for France by an earlypacket, which was to sail as soon as the long-expected French fleetarrived from the West Indies. 

I delivered my letter to the staff-officer detailed for that duty, andthen, hearing military music, went back to the Blue Fox in time to seea funeral of an officer slowly passing eastward, gun-carriage, horses, men, in strange silhouette against the level and dazzling white disk ofthe rising sun. Truly, the slow cortège seemed moving straight into theflaming gates of heaven, the while their solemn music throbbed andthrobbed with the double drum-beat at the finish of each line. The tunewas called "Funeral Thoughts. " They changed to "Roslyn Castle" as theycrossed the bridge; yet an hour had scarce passed when I heard theirvolley-firing not very far away, and back they came, the Fife-Majorleading, drums, fifes, and light-infantry horns gaily sounding "ThePioneer, " and the men swinging back briskly to fall in with the Churchdetails, now marching in from every direction to the admonitory timingof a single drum-beat. 

The music had awakened Elsin, and presently she came a-tapping at mydoor, barefoot, her cardinal tightly wrapped around her, hair tumbled, drowsily rubbing her heavy lids. 

"Good morning, Carus, " she said sleepily. "I should dearly like to heara good, strong sermon on damnation to-day--being sensible of my presentstate of sin, and of yours. Do they preach hell-fire in Rebeldom?"

"The landlord says that Hazen's mixed brigade and other troops go toservice in the hay-field above the bridge, " I answered, laughing. "Shall we ride thither?"

She nodded, yawning, then pulling her foot-mantle closer about hershoulders, pattered back into her chamber, and I went below and orderedour horses saddled, and breakfast to be served us as soon as might be. 

And so it happened that, ere the robins had done caroling their morningsongs, and the far, sweet anthems of the hermit-birds still rang indewy woodlands, Elsin and I dismounted in Granger's hay-field just asthe troops marched up in a long, dense column, the massed music of manyregiments ahead, but only a single drum timing the steady tread. 

All was done in perfect decorum and order. A hay-wagon was the pulpit;around it the drummers piled their drums, tier rising on tier; theensigns draped the national colors over the humble platform, settingregimental and state standards at the corners; and I noted there somecurious flags, one borne by a Massachusetts battalion, white, with agreen tree on it; another, a yellow naval flag with a coiledrattlesnake; another, carried by a company of riflemen, on which wasthis design:

 1776. XI VIRGINIA REG'T, and I knew that I was looking upon the famous regimental standard ofMorgan's Rifles. 

Without confusion, with only a low-spoken command here and there, battalion after battalion marched up, stacked arms, forming three sidesof a hollow square, the pulpit, with its flags and tiers of drums, making the fourth side. The men stood at ease, hands loosely claspedand hanging in front of them. The brigade chaplain quietly crossed thesquare to his rude pulpit, mounted it, and, as he bowed his head inprayer, every cocked hat came off, every head was lowered. 

Country-folk, yokels, farmers, had gathered from all directions;invalids from the camp hospitals were there, too, faces clay-color, heads and limbs heavily bandaged. One of these, a sergeant of the NewYork line, who wore a crimson heart sewed on his breast, was led to hisplace between two comrades, he having both eyes shot out; and thechaplain looked at him hard for a moment, then gave out the hymn, leading the singing in a deep, full voice:

 "Through darkest night I know that Thou canst see. Night blinds my sight, Yet my small voice shall praise Thee constantly. Under Thy wing, Whose shadow blinds mine eyes, Fearless I sing Thy sweetness and Thy mercy to the skies!"

The swelling voices of the soldiers died away. Standing there betweenour horses, Elsin's young voice still echoing in my ears, I looked upat the placid face of the preacher, saw his quiet glance sweep thecongregation, saw something glimmer in his eyes, and his lips tightenas he laid open his Bible, and, extending his right arm, turn to thesouth, menacing the distant city with his awful text:

"The horseman lifteth up the bright sword and the glittering spear!

"Woe to the bloody city! The chariots shall rage in the streets, theyshall jostle one against another in the _broad ways_! They shall seemlike torches, they shall run like the lightnings. They shall make hasteto the wall; the defense shall be prepared. 

"For that day is a day of wrath, a day of trouble and distress, a dayof darkness and gloom, a day of clouds and thick darkness. 

"A day of the trumpet and alarm against _fenced cities_, and againsthigh towers. 

"For the horseman lifteth up the bright sword. .. . Woe to the bloodycity!"

Out over the sunlit fields rang the words of Zephaniah and of Nahum. Isaw the motionless ranks suddenly straighten; a thousand sunburnedfaces were upturned, a thousand pairs of eyes fastened themselves uponthe steady eyes of the preacher. 

For an hour he spoke to them, beginning with his Excellency'sever-to-be-remembered admonition: "To the character of a patriot itshould be our highest glory to add the more distinguished character ofa Christian"; then continued upon that theme nearest the hearts of all, the assault upon New York, which everybody now deemed imminent, thrilling the congregation with hope, inspiring them with highendeavor. I remember that he deprecated revenge, although the score washeavy enough! I remember he preached dignity and composure inadversity, mercy in victory, and at the word his voice rang withprophecy, and the long ranks stirred as dry leaves stir in a suddenwind. 

When at last he asked the blessing, and the ranks had knelt in thestubble, Elsin and I on our knees breathed the Amen, lifted oursun-dazzled eyes, and rose together to mount and ride back through thedust to the Blue Fox, where we were to confer concerning thelong-delayed letter which decency required us to write to Sir Peter andLady Coleville, and also take counsel in other matters touching thefuture, which seemed as obscure as ever. 

Since that first visit from Colonel Hamilton I had received orders fromheadquarters to be ready to leave for the north at an hour's notice, and that suitable quarters would be ready at West Point for my wife. 

There were a dozen officers lodged at the tavern, but my acquaintancewith them advanced nothing beyond a civil greeting, for I cared not tojoin them in the coffee-room, where sooner or later some questionconcerning Elsin must annoy me. It was sufficient that they knew myname and nothing more either of my business or myself or Elsin. Nodoubt some quiet intimation from headquarters had spared us visits fromquartermasters and provost marshals, for nobody interfered with us, and, when at the week's end I called for our reckoning--my habits ofmethod ever uppermost in my mind--the landlord refused to listen, saying that our expenses were paid as long as we remained at the BlueFox, and that if we lacked for anything I was to write to ColonelHamilton. 

This I had done, being sadly in need of fresh linen, and none to be hadin the shops opposite. Also I enclosed a list of apparel urgentlydesired by Elsin, she having writ the copy, which was as long as I amtall; but I sent it, nevertheless, and we expected to hear from ColonelHamilton before evening. For all we had was the clothing we wore on ourbacks, and though for myself I asked nothing but linen, I should havebeen glad of a change of outer garments, too. 

We dined together at our little table by the window, decorouslydiscussing damnation, predestination, and other matters fitting thatsunny Sabbath noontide. And at moments, very, very far away, I heardthe faint sound of church-bells, perhaps near North Castle, perhaps atDobbs Ferry, so sweet, so peaceful, that it was hard to believe ineternal punishment and in a God of wrath; hard, too, to realize thatwar ruled half a continent, and that the very dogs of war, unchained, prowled all around us, fangs bared, watching the sad city at theriver's ends. 

When the servants had removed the cloth, and had fetched the materialsfor writing which I had ordered, we drew our chairs up side by side, and leaned upon the table to confer in regard to a situation whichcould not, of course, continue much longer. 

"The first thing to consider, " said I, "is the flag to take you north. "And I looked curiously at Elsin. 

"How can we decide that yet?" she asked, aggrieved. "I shall notrequire a flag if we--fall in love. "

"We've had a week to try, " I argued, smiling. 

"Yes, but we have not tried; we have been too happy to try. Still, Carus, we promised one another to attempt it. "

"Well, shall we attempt it at once?"

"Goodness, I'm too lazy, too contented, too happy, to worry over suchsad matters as love!"

"Well, then, I had better write to Hamilton asking a flag----"

"I tell you not to hasten!" she retorted pettishly. "Moonlight changesone's ideas. My noonday sentiments never correspond to my evening stateof mind. "

"But, " I persisted, "if we only cherish certain sentiments when themoon shines----"

"Starlight, too, silly! Besides, whenever I take time to think of yourlate peril, I straightway experience a tender sentiment for you. I tellyou be not too hasty to ask a flag for me. Come, let us now considerand be wise. Once in Canada all is ended, for Sir Frederick Haldimandwould sooner see me fall from Cape Eternity to the Saguenay than hearof me in love with you. Therefore I say, let us remember, consider, andawait wisdom. "

"But, " I argued, "something must be settled before fresh orders fromheadquarters send me north and you to West Point. "

"Oh, I shall go north, too, " she observed calmly. 

"Into battle, for example?" I asked, amused. 

"I shall certainly not let you go into battle all alone! You are a merechild when it comes to taking precaution in danger. "

"You mean you would actually gallop into battle to see I came to nomischief?" I demanded, laughing. 

"Aye, clip my hair and dress the trooper, jack-boots and all, if youdrive me to it!" she exclaimed, irritated. "You may as well know it, Carus; you shall not go floundering about alone, and that's flat! Seewhat a mess of it you were like to make in New York!"

"Then, " said I, still laughing, yet touched to the heart, "I shallinstruct you in the duties and amenities of wedded life, and we may aswell marry and be done with it. Once married, I, of course, shall do asI please in the matter of battles----"

"No, you shall not! You shall consider me! Do you think to go roamingabout, nose in the air, and leaving me to sit quaking at home, cryingmy eyes out over your foolishness? Do I not already know the terror ofit with you in New York there, and only ten minutes to save your neckfrom Cunningham? Thank you, I am already instructed in the amenities ofwedded life--if they be like the pleasures of betrothal--though I carednot a whit what happened to Walter Butler, it is true, yet fell sick o'worry when you and Rosamund Barry went a-sailing--not that I fearedyou'd drown, either. O Carus, Carus, you distract me, you worry me; youtell me nothing, nothing, and I never knew what you were about there inNew York when you were not with me!--doubtless a-courting everypetticoat on Hanover Square, for all I know!"

"Well, " said I, amazed and perplexed, "if you think, under thecircumstances, there is any prospect of our falling in love aftermarriage, and so continuing, I will wed you--now----"

"No!" she interrupted angrily; "I shall not marry you, nor even betrothmyself. It may be that I can see you leave me and bid you a fairjourney, unmoved. I would to God I could! I feel that way now, and maycontinue, if I do not fall a-pondering, and live over certain hourswith you that plague me at times into a very passion. But at momentslike this I weary of you, so that all you say and do displeases, andI'm sick of the world and I know not what! O Carus, I am sick oflife--and I dare not tell you why!"

She rested her head on her hands, staring down at her blurred image, reflected in the polished table-top. 

"I have sometimes thought, " she mused, "that the fault lay withyou--somewhat. "

"With me!"

"That you could force me to love you, if you dared. The rest would notmatter, then. Misery me! I wish that we had never met! And yet I cannot let you go, because you do not know how to care for yourself. Ifyou will sail to France on the next packet, and remain with yourmother, I'll say nothing. I'll go with a flag I care not where--only toknow you are safe. Will you? O Carus, I would my life were done and allended!"

She was silent for a while, leaning on the table, tracing with herfinger the outline of her dull reflection in the shining surface. Presently she looked up gaily, a smile breaking in her eyes. 

"All that I said is false. I desire to live, Carus. I am not unhappy. Pray you, begin your writing!"

I drew the paper to me, dipped a quill full of ink from the musty horn, rested my elbow, pen lifted, and began, dating the letter from the BlueFox, and addressing it most respectfully to Sir Peter and LadyColeville. 

First I spoke of the horses we had taken, and would have promisedpayment by draft enclosed, but that Elsin, looking over my shoulder, stayed my pen. 

"Did you not see me leave a pile of guineas?" she demanded. "That wasto pay for our stable theft!"

"But not for the horse I took?"

"Certainly, for your horse, too. "

"But you could not know that I was to ride saddle to the Coq d'Or!" Iinsisted. 

"No, but I saddled _two_ horses, " she replied, delighted at my wonder, "two horses, monsieur, one of which stood ready in the stalls of the Coqd'Or! So when you came a-horseback, it was not necessary to use thespare mount I had led there at a gallop. _Now_ do you see, Mr. Renault?All this I did for you, inspired by--foresight, which you lack!"

"I see that you are as wise and witty as you are beautiful!" Iexclaimed warmly, and caught her fingers to kiss them, but she wouldhave none of my caress, urging me to write further, and make suitableexcuse for what had happened. 

"It is not best to confess that we are still unwedded, " I said, perplexed. 

"No. They suppose we are; let be as it is, " she answered. "And youshall not say that you were a spy, either, for that must only pain SirPeter and his lady. They will never believe Walter Butler, for theythink I fled with you because I could not endure him. And--perhaps Idid, " she added; and that strange smile colored her eyes to deepestazure. 

"Then what remains to say?" I asked, regarding her thoughtfully. 

"Say we are happy, Carus. "

"Are you?"

"Truly I am, spite of all I complain of. Write it!"

I wrote that we were happy; and, as I traced the words, a curiousthrill set my pen shaking. 

"And that we love--them. "

I wrote it slowly, half-minded to write "one another" instead of"them. " Never had I been so near to love. 

"And--and--let me see, " she mused, finger on lip--"I think it not tooimpudent to ask their blessing. It _may_ happen, you know, thoughDestiny fight against it; and if it does, why there we have theirblessing all ready!"

I thought for a long while, then wrote, asking their blessing upon ourwedded union. 

"_That_ word 'wedded, '" observed Elsin, "commits us. Scratch it out. Ihave changed my mind. Destiny may accept the challenge, and smite mewhere I sit. "

"What do you mean?" I asked. 

"I mean--nothing. Yet that word 'wedded' must not stand. It is anaffront to--to Destiny!"

"I fear nothing from Destiny--with you, Elsin. "

"If you write that word, then, I tell you we must betroth ourselvesthis instant!--and fight Fate to its knees. Dare you?"

"I am ready, " said I coolly. 

She looked at me sidewise in quick surprise, chin resting in herclasped hands. Then she turned, facing me, dropping her elbows on thepolished table. 

"You would wed me, Carus?" she said slowly. 

"Yes. "

"Because--because--you--love me?"

"Yes. "

A curious tremor possessed my body; it was not as though I spoke;something within me had stirred and awakened and was twitching at mylips. I stared at her through eyes not my own--eyes that seemed to openon her for the first time. And, as I stared, her face whitened, hereyes closed, and she bowed her head to her hands. 

"Keep pity for others, " she said wearily; "keep your charity for somehappier maid who may accept it, Carus. I would if I dared. I have nopride left. But I dare not. This is the end of all, I think. I shallnever ask alms of Love again. "

Then a strange thing happened, quick as a thrust; and my very soulleaped, quivering, smitten through and through with love of her. In theoverwhelming shock I stretched out my hand like a man dazed, touchingher fingers, and the thrill of it seemed to stun me. 

Never, never could I endure to have her look at another as she lookedat me when our hands touched, but I could not utter a word; and I sawher lip quiver, and the hopeless look deaden her eyes again. 

I rose blindly to my feet, speechless, heart hammering at my throat, and made to speak, but could not. 

She, too, had risen, gazing steadily at me; and still I could not uttera word, the blood surging through me and my senses swimming. Love! Itblinded me with its clamor; it frightened me with its rushing tide; itdinned in my ears, it ran riot, sweeping every vein, choking speech, while it surged on, wave on wave mounting in flame. 

She stood there, pallidly uncertain, looking on the conflagration lovehad wrought. Then something of its purport seemed to frighten her, andshe shrank away step by step, passing the portal of her chamber, retreating, yet facing me still, fascinated eyes on mine. 

I heard a voice unlike my own, saying: "I love you, Elsin. Why do yourepulse me?"

And as she answered nothing, I went to her and took her hand. But thedismayed eyes only widened, the color faded from her parted lips. 

"Can you not see, " I whispered, "can you not see I love you?"

"You--_love_--me!"

I caught her in my arms. A bright blush stained neck and face, and shethrew back her head, avoiding my lips. 

[Illustration: She threw back her head, avoiding my lips. ]

"Elsin, I beg you--I beg you to love me! Can you not see what you havedone to me?--how I am awakened?"

"Wait, " she pleaded, resisting me, "wait, Carus. I--I am afraid----"

"Of love, sweetheart?"

"Wait, " she panted--"give me time--till morning--then if I changenot--if my heart stirs again so loudly when you hold me--thus--and--andcrush me so close to you--so close--and promise to love me----"

"Elsin, Elsin, I love you!"

"Wait--wait, Carus!--my darling. Oh, you must not--kiss me--until youknow--what I am----"

Her face burned against mine; her eyes closed. Through the throbbingsilence her head drooped, lower, lower, yielding her mouth to mine;then, with a cry she turned in my arms, twisting to her knees, anddropped her head forward on the bed. And, as I bent beside her, shegasped: "No--no--wait, Carus! I know myself! I know myself! Take yourlips from my hands--do not touch me! My brain has gone blind, I tellyou! Leave me to think--if I can----"

"I will not leave you here in tears. Elsin, Elsin, look at me!"

"The tears help me--help us both, " she sobbed. "I know what I know. Leave me--lest the very sky fall to crush us in our madness----"

I bent beside her, a new, fierce tenderness choking me; and at my touchshe straightened up, tear-stained face lifted, and flung both armsaround my neck. 

"I love you, Carus! I love you!" she stammered. "I care for that, only--only for that! If it be for a week, if it be for a day, an hour, an instant, it is what I was made for, it is what I was fashionedfor--to love you, Carus! There is nothing else--nothing else in all theworld! Love me, take me, do with me what you will! I yield all you ask, all you beg, all you desire--all save wedlock!"

She swayed in my arms. A deadly pallor whitened her; then her kneestrembled and she gave way, sinking to the floor, her head buried in theflowering curtains of the bed; and I to drop on my knees beside her, seeking to lift her face while the sobs shook her slender body, and shewept convulsively, head prostrate in her arms. 

"I--I am wicked!" she wailed. "Oh, I have done that which has damned meforever, Carus!--forever and ever. I can not wed you--I love youso!--yet I can not wed you! What wild folly drove me to go with you?What devil has dragged me here to tempt you--whom I love so truly? Oh, God pity us both--God pity us!"

"Elsin, " I said hoarsely, "you are mad to say it! Is there anything onearth to bar us from wedlock?"

"Yes, Carus, yes!" she cried. "It is--it is too late!"

"Too late!" I repeated, stunned. 

"Aye--for I am a wedded wife! Now you know! Oh, this is the end ofall!"

A while she lay there sobbing her heart out, I upright on my kneesbeside her, staring at blank space, which reeled and reeled, so thatthe room swam all awry, and I strove to steady it with fixed gaze, lestthe whole world come crashing upon us. 

At last she spoke, lifting her tear-marred face from the floor to thebed, forehead resting heavily in her hands:

"I ask your pardon--for the sin I have committed. Hear me out--that ismy penance; spurn me--that is my punishment!"

She pressed her wet eyes, shuddering. "Are you listening, Carus? Thenight before I sailed from Canada--_he_ sought me----"

"Who?" My lips found the question, but no sound came. 

"Walter Butler! O God! that I have done this thing!"

In the dreadful silence I heard her choking back the cry that strangledher. And after a while she found her voice again: "I was a child--avain, silly thing of moods and romance, ignorant of men, innocent ofthe world, flattered by the mystery with which he cloaked his passion, awed, fascinated by this first melancholy lover who had wrung from methrough pity, through vanity, through a vague fear of him, perhaps, apromise of secret betrothal. "

She lifted her head and set her chin on one clinched hand, yet neverlooked at me:

"Sir Frederick was abed; I all alone in the great arms-gallery, nose tothe diamond window-panes, and looking out at the moon--and waiting forhim. Suddenly I saw him there below. .. . Heaven is witness I meant noharm nor dreamed of any. He was not alone. My heart and my affectionswere stirred to warmth--I sailing from Canada and friends next day atdawn--and I went down to the terrace and out among the trees where hestood, his companion moving off among the trees. I had come only to bidhim the farewell I had promised, Carus--I never dreamed of what hemeant to do. "

She cleared her hair from her brow. 

"I--I swear to you, Carus, that never has Walter Butler so much as laidthe weight of his little finger on my person! Yet he swayed methere--using that spell of melancholy, clothed in romance--and--I knownot how it was--or how I listened, or how consented--it is scarce morethan a dreadful dream--the trees in the moonlight, his voice so gentle, so pitiful, trembling, beseeching--and he had brought aclergyman"--again her hands covered her eyes--"and, ere I was aware ofit, frightened, stunned in the storm of his passion, he had his way withme. The clergyman stood between us, saying words that bound me. I heardthem, I was mute, I shrank from the ring, yet suffered it--for even ashe ringed me he touched me not with his hand. Oh, if he had, I think thespell had broken!"

Again her tears welled up, falling silently; and presently the strengthreturned to her voice, and she went on:

"From the first moment that I saw you, Carus, I understood what lovemight be. From the very first I closed my ears to the quick cry ofcaution. I saw you meet coquetry unmoved, I knew the poison of my firstpassion was in me, stealing through every vein; and every moment withyou was the more hopeless for me. I played a hundred rôles--you smiledindifference on all. A mad desire to please you grew with your amusedimpatience of me. Curiosity turned to jealousy. I longed for youraffection as I never longed for anything on earth--or heaven. I hadnever had a lover to love before. O Carus, I had never loved, and lovecrazed me! Day after day I wondered if I had been fashioned to inspirelove in such a man as you. I was bewildered by my passion and yourcoldness; yet had I not been utterly mad I must have known the awfulend of such a flame once kindled. But could I inspire love? Could youlove me? That was all in the world I cared about--thinking nothing ofthe end, knowing all hope was dead for me, and nothing in life unlessyou loved me. O Carus, if I have inspired one brief moment oftenderness in you, deal mercifully with the sin! Guilty as I am, falseas I am, I can not add a lie and say that I am sorry that you love me, that for one blessed moment you said you loved me. Now it is ended. Ican not be your wife. I am too mean, too poor a thing for hate. Dealwith me gently, Carus, lest your wrath strike me dead here at the altarof outraged Love!"

I rose to my feet, feeling blindly for support, and rested against thegreat carved columns of the bed. A cold rage froze me, searching everyvein with icy numbness that left me like a senseless thing. Thatpassed; I roused, breathing quietly and deeply, and looked about, furtive, lest the familiar world around had changed to ashes, too. 

Presently my dull senses were aware of what was at my feet, kneelingthere, face buried in clasped hands, too soft, too small, too frail tohold a man's whole destiny. And, as I bent to kiss them, I scarce daredclasp them, scarce dared lift her to my arms, scarce dared meet thefrightened wonder in her eyes, and the full sweetness of them, and thelove breaking through their azure, as I think day must dawn inparadise!

"Now, in the name of God, " I breathed, "we two, always forever one, through life, through death, here upon earth, and afterward! I wed younow with heart and soul, and ring your body with my arms! I stand yourchampion, I kneel your lover, Elsin, till that day breaks on a redreckoning with him who did this sin! Then I shall wed you. Will youtake me?"

She placed her hands on my shoulders, gazing at me from her very soul. 

"You need not wed me--so that you love me, Carus. "

Arms enlacing one another, we walked the floor in silence, slowlypassing from her chamber into mine, and back again, heads erect, challenging that Destiny whose shadowy visage we could now gaze onunafraid. 

The dusk of day was dissolving to a silvery night, through which thewhite-throat's song floated in distant, long-drawn sweetness. Thelittle stream's whisper grew louder, too; and I heard the treesstirring in slumber, and the breeze in the river-reeds. 

There, at the open window, standing, she lifted her sweet face, lookinginto mine. 

"What will you do with me? I am yours. "

"Wait for you. "

"You need not wait, if it be your will. "

"It is not my will that we ever part. Nor shall we, wedded or not. Yetwe must wait our wedded happiness. "

"You need not, Carus. "

"I know it and I wait. "

"So then--so then you hold me innocent--you raise me back to the highplace I fell from, blinded by love----"

"You never fell from your high place, Elsin. "

"But my unpardonable sin----"

"What sin? The evil lies with him. "

"Yet, wedded, I sought you--I loved you--I love you now--I offer myamends to you--myself to do with as it pleases you. "

"Sweetheart, you could not stir from the high place where you reignenthroned though I and Satan leagued to pull you down. I, not you, owethe amends; I, not you, await your pleasure. Yours to command, mine toobey. Now, tell me, love, where my honor lies?"

"Linked with mine, Carus. "

"And yours?"

"In the high places, where I sit unsullied, waiting for you. "

For a long while we stood there together at the window. Candle-lightfaded from the dim casements of the shops; the patrol passed, musketsglittering in the starlight, and the tavern lamp went out. 

And when the last tap-room loiterer had slunk away to camp or cabin, and when the echo of the patrol's tread had died out in the fragrantdarkness, came one to the door below, hammering the knocker; and I sawhis spurs and scabbard shining in the luster of the stars, and in myheart a still voice repeated, "This is Destiny came a-knocking, armedwith Fate. This is the place and the hour!"

And it was so, for presently the landlord came to the door, calling mesoftly. "I come, " I answered, and turned to Elsin. "Shall I to-morrowfind you the same sweet maid I have loved from the first allblindly?--the same dear tyrant, plaguing me, coaxing me, blaming, praising, unreasoning, inconstant--the same brave, impulsive, loyalfriend that one day, God willing, shall become my wife?"

"Yes, Carus. "

We kissed one another; hands tightened, lingered, and fell apart. Andso I went away down the dim stairs, strangely aware that Destiny waswaiting there for me. And it was, shaped like Colonel Hamilton, whorose to meet me, offering the hand of Fate; and I took it and held it, looking him straight between the eyes. 

"I know why you have come, " I said, smiling. "I am to journey north andmove heaven and earth to thwart this hell's menace flung at us byWalter Butler. Ah, sir, I was certain of it--I knew it, ColonelHamilton. You make me very, very happy. Pray you, inform his Excellencyof my deep gratitude. He has chosen fire to fight fire, I think. Everythought, every nerve in me is directed to the ruin of this man. Waking, sleeping, in sickness, in health, in adversity, in prosperity, soul andbody and mind are bent on his undoing. I shall speak to the Oneidaswith clan authority; I shall speak to the Iroquois at Thendara; I shalllisten to the long roll of the dead; I shall read the record of agesfrom the sacred belts. The eyes of the forest shall see for me; theears of the wilderness listen for me; every tree shall whisper for me, every leaf spy for me; and the voices of a thousand streams shall guideme, and the eight winds shall counsel me, and the stars stretch outtheir beams for me, pointing the way, so that this man shall die andhis wickedness be ended forever. "

I held out my hand and took the written order in silence, reading it ata glance. 

"It shall be done, Colonel Hamilton. When am I to leave?"

"Now. The schooner starts when you set foot aboard, Mr. Renault. "

And, after a moment: "Madam goes with you?"

"To West Point. "

"I trust that she finds some few comforts aboard the _Wind-Flower_. Icould not fill all the list, Mr. Renault; but a needle will do much, andthe French fabrics are pretty----"

He looked at me, smiling: "For you, sir, there are shirts and stockingsand a forest dress of deerskin. "

"A rifle, too?"

"The best to be had, and approved by Jack Mount. Murphy himself hassighted it. Have I done well?"

"Yes, " said I grimly, and, opening the door of the kitchen, bade thelandlord have our horses saddled and brought around, and asked him tosend a servant to warn Elsin that we must leave within the quarter. 

Presently I heard our horses at the block, stamping the sod, and amoment later Elsin came, eager, radiant, sweetly receiving ColonelHamilton when I named him. He saluted her hand profoundly; then, as itstill rested lightly on his fingers, he turned to me, almost bluntly:"Never, Mr. Renault, can we officers forgive you for denying us thisprivilege. I have heard, sir, that Mrs. Renault was beautiful andamiable; I never dreamed that such loveliness could be within ourlines. One day you shall make amends for this selfishness to every ladyand every officer on the Hudson. "

At the word which named her as my wife her face crimsoned, but in hereyes the heavenly sweetness dawned like a star, dazzling me. 

"Colonel Hamilton, " she said, "in quieter days--when this stormpasses--we hope to welcome you and those who care to wait upon a wifewhose life is but a quiet study for her husband's happiness. Those whomhe cares for I care for. We shall be glad to receive those he counts asfriends. "

"May I be one, Renault?" he said impulsively, offering both hands. 

"Yes, " I said, returning his clasp. 

We stood silent a moment, Elsin's gloved fingers resting on my sleeve;then we moved to the door, and I lifted Elsin to the saddle andmounted, Hamilton walking at my stirrup, and directing me in a lowvoice how I must follow the road to the river, how find the wharf, whatword to give to the man I should find there waiting. And he cautionedme to breathe no word of my errand; but when I asked him where myreports to his Excellency were to be sent, he drew a sealed paper fromhis coat and handed it to me, saying: "Open that on the first day ofSeptember, and on your honor, not one hour before. Then you shall hearof things undreamed of, and understand all that I may not tell you now. Be cautious, be wise and deadly. We know you; our four years' trust inyou has proved your devotion. But his Excellency warns you againstrashness, for it was rashness that made you useless in New York. And Inow say to you most solemnly that I regard you as too unselfish, toogood a soldier, too honorable a gentleman to let aught of a personalnature come between you and duty. And your duty is to hold theIroquois, warn the Oneidas, and so conduct that Butler and his demonsmake no movement till you and Colonel Willett hold the checkmate inyour proper hands. Am I clear, Mr. Renault?"

"Perfectly, " I said. 

He stepped aside, raising his cocked-hat; we passed him at a canterwith precise salute, then spurred forward into the star-spangled night. 

CHAPTER IX

INTO THE NORTH

Head winds, which began with a fresh breeze off King's Ferry andculminated in a three days' hurricane, knocked us about the Tappan Zee, driving us from point to cove; and for forty-eight hours I saw ourgunboats, under bare poles, tossing on the gray fury of the Hudson, anda sloop of war, sprit on the rocks, buried under the sprouting spraybelow Dobbs Ferry. Safer had we been in the open ocean off the Narrows, where the great winds drive bellowing from the Indies to the Pole; butthese yelling gales that burst from the Highlands struck us like thesuccessive discharges of cannon, and the _Wind-Flower_ staggered andheeled, reeling through the Tappan Zee as a great water-fowl, crippledand stung to terror, drives blindly into the spindrift, while shot onshot strikes, yet ends not the frantic struggle. 

Once we were beaten back so far that, in the dark whirlwind of dawn, Isaw a fire-ball go whirring aloft and spatter the eastern horizon. Then, through the shrilling of the tempest, a gun roared to starboard, and atthe flash a gun to port boomed, shaking our decks. We had beaten backwithin range of the British lines, and the batteries on Cock Hill openedon us, and a guard-ship to the west had joined in. Southeast a red glareleaped, and died out as Fort Tryon fired a mortar, while the _Wind-Flower_, bulwarks awash, heeled and heeled, staggering to the shelter of Tetard'sHill. Southward we saw the beacons ablaze, marking the _chevaux defrise_ below Fort Lee, and on the Jersey shore the patrol's torchesflashing along the fort road. But we had set a bit o' rag under Tetard'sHill, and slowly we crept north again past Yonkers, strugglingdesperately at Phillips, but making Boar's Hill and Dobbs Ferry bymid-afternoon. And that night the wind shifted so suddenly that fromTappan to Tarrytown was but a jack-snipe's twist, and we lay snug inHaverstraw Bay, under the lee of the Heights of North Castle, scarce anhour's canoe-paddle from the wharf where we had embarked four daysbefore. 

And now delay followed delay, a gunboat holding us twenty-four hours atDobbs Ferry--why, I never knew--and, at the Chain, two days' delay wererequired before they let us pass. 

When at last we signaled West Point, at the close of one long, calmAugust afternoon, through the flaming mountain sunset, the blackfortress beckoned us to anchor, nor had we any choice but to obey thesilent summons from those grim heights, looming like a thunder-cloudagainst the cinders of the dying sun. 

That night a barge put out, and an officer boarded us, subjecting us toa most rigid scrutiny. Since the great treason a savage suspicion hadsucceeded routine vigilance; the very guns among the rocks seemedalive, alert, listening, black jaws parted to launch a thunderouswarning. A guard was placed on deck; we were not allowed to send a boatashore; not even permitted to communicate with the fishing-smack androwboats that hovered around us, curious as gulls around a floatingplank. 

And all this time--from the very instant of departure, through threedays and a night of screaming winds and cataracts of water, through thedelays where we rode at anchor below the Chain and Dobbs Ferry, under avertical sun that started the pitch in every seam--Elsin Grey, radiant, transfigured, drenched to the skin, faced storm and calm in an ecstasyof reckless happiness. 

Wild winds from the north, shouting among the mountains, winds of theforests, that tore the cries of exultation from our lips and scatteredsound into space, winds of my own northland that poured through ourveins, cleansing us of sordid care and sad regret and doubt, these werethe sorcerers that changed us back to children while the dull roaringof their incantations filled the world. We two alone on earth, and thevast, veiled world spread round, outstretching to the limits ofeternity, all ours to conquer, ours for our pleasure, ours to reign intill the moon cracked and the stars faded, and the sun went downforever and a day, and all was chaos save for the blazing trail ofblessed souls, soaring to glory through the majesty of endless night. 

In the sunlit calms, riding at our moorings, much we discussed eternityand creation. Doctrines once terrible seemed now harmless and withoutmenace, dogmas dissolved into thinnest air, blown to the nothingnessfrom whence they came; for, strangely, all teachings and creeds andlaws of faith narrowed to the oldest of precepts; and, ponder andquestion as we might, citing prophet and saint and holy men inspired, all came to the same at last, expressed in that cardinal precept sosafe in its simplicity--the one law embodied in one word governingheaven and commanding earth. 

"Aye, " said she, "but how interpret it? For a misstep means certaindamnation, Carus. Once when I spelled out 'Love' for you, I stumbledand should have fallen had you not held me up. "

"You held _me_ up, sweetheart! I was closer to the brink than you. "

She looked thoughtfully at the fortress; the shore was so near that, through the calm darkness, we could hear the sentinels calling frompost to post and the ripple of the Hudson at the base of the rocks. 

But these conferences concerning the philosophy of ethics overweightedtwo hearts as young as ours; and while our new love and the happinessof it at times reacted in solemn argument and the naïve searching ofour souls, mostly a reckless delight in one another and in our freedomdominated; and we lived for the moment only, chary and shy of stirringslumbering embers that must one day die out or flash to a flame asfierce as that blaze that bars the gates of heaven from lost souls. 

Knowing the need of haste, and having in my pocket instructions which Ibelieved overweighed even the voiceless orders of the West Pointcannon, I argued with the officer of the guard on deck, day after day, to let us go; but it was only after fifteen days' detention there atanchor that I found out that it was an order from his Excellencyhimself which held us there. 

Then, one morning in early September, boats from the fortress put offloaded with provisions for the _Wind-Flower_; the guard disembarked intheir barge, and an officer, in a cockle-shell, shouted: "Good luck toyou! The Mouse-trap's sprung, and the Mouse is squeaking!" And with thathe tossed a letter on deck. It was addressed to me:

 "HEADQUARTERS, PHILADELPHIA, "September 2d, '81. 

 "CARUS RENALT, ESQ'RE:

 "_Sir_--On receipt of this order you will immediately proceed from your anchorage off West Point to Albany, disembark, and travel by way of Schenectady to Johnstown, and from there to Butlersbury, where you will establish yourself in the manor-house, making it your headquarters, unless force of circumstances prevent. Fifty Tryon County Rangers, to be employed as one scout or several, are placed under your authority; the militia, and such companies of Continental troops as are now or may later be apportioned to Tryon County, will continue under the orders of Colonel Marinus Willett. Your duties you are already familiar with; your policy must emanate from your own nature and deliberate judgment concerning the situation as it is or as it threatens. Close and cordial cooperation with Colonel Willett, and with the various civil and military authorities in Tryon County, should eventually accomplish the object of your mission, which is, first, to prevent surprise from all invasion; second, to prevent a massacre of the Oneida Nation. 

 "Authority is herewith given you to open and read the sealed orders delivered to you by myself on your departure. "

The letter was signed by Colonel Hamilton. I stared at his signature, thenat the name of the city from whence the letter was dated--_Philadelphia_. What in Heaven's name were "Headquarters" doing in Philadelphia? Was hisExcellency there? Was the army there? Impossible--the army which formonths had been preparing to storm New York?--impossible!

I thrust my hand into the breast-pocket of my coat, drew out the sealedorders, tore them open, and read:

 "Until further notice such reports as you are required to render to his Excellency, the Commander-in-Chief, should be sent to headquarters, near Yorktown, Virginia----"

Virginia! The army that I had seen at Dobbs Ferry, at White Plains, atNorth Castle, was that army on its way to Virginia? What! hurl anentire army a thousand miles southward? And had Sir Henry Clintonpermitted it?

In a sort of stupor I read and reread the astonishing words: "Virginia?There was a British army in Virginia. Yorktown? Yes, that British armywas at Yorktown, practically at bay, with a youth of twenty-three--myown age--harassing it--the young General Lafayette! Greene, too, wasthere, his chivalry cutting up the light troops of General LordCornwallis----"

"By Heaven!" I cried, springing to my feet, "his Excellency never meantto storm New York! The French fleet has sailed for the Chesapeake!Lafayette is there, Greene is there, Morgan, Sumter, Lee, Pickens, allare there! His Excellency has gone to catch Cornwallis in a mouse-trap, and Sir Henry is duped!"

Mad with excitement and delight, I looked up at the great fortress onthe river, and knew that it was safe in its magnificent isolation--safewith its guns and ramparts and its four thousand men--knew that the keyto the Hudson was ours, and would remain ours, although the army, likea gigantic dragon, had lifted its great wings and soared southward, sosilently that none, not even the British spies, had dreamed itsdestination was other than the city of New York. 

And, as I looked, the signals on the fortress changed; the guard-boatshailed us, the harmless river-craft gave us right of way, and we spreadour white sails once more, drawing slowly northward, under the rockypulpits of the heights, past shore forests yet unbroken, edged withacres of reeds and marshes, from which the water-fowl arose in clouds;past pine-crowned capes and mountains, whose bases were bathed in thegreat river; past lonely little islands, on, on, into the purplemystery of the silent north. 

Now there remained no high sky-bastion to halt us with voiceless signaland dumb cannon, nothing beyond but Albany; and, beyond Albany, thefrontier; and beyond the frontier a hellish war of murder and thetorch, a ceaseless conflict of dreadful reprisals, sterile triumphs, terrible vengeance, a saturnalia of private feuds, which spared neitherthe infirm nor the infant--nay, the very watch-dog at the door receivedno quarter in the holocaust. 

Elsin had begged and begged that she should not be left there at WestPoint, saying that Albany was safer, though I doubted the question ofsafety weighed in her choice; but she pleaded so reasonably, sosweetly, arms around my neck, and her lips whispering so that my cheekfelt their soft flutter, that I consented. There I was foolish, for nosooner were we in sight of the Albany hills than arms and lips werepersuading again, guilelessly explaining how simple it would be for herto live at Johnstown, while I, at Butlersbury, busied myself with myown affairs. 

And so we stood in earnest conference, while nearer and nearer loomedthe hills, with the Dutch town atop, brick houses, tiled roofs, steepstreets, becoming plainer and plainer to the eye. 

There seemed to be an unusual amount of shipping at the Albany wharvesas we glided in, and a great number of wagons and people scurryingabout. In fact, I had never before observed such a bustle in Albanystreets, but thought nothing of it at the moment, for I had not seenthe town since war began. As the schooner dropped anchor at the wharfwe were still arguing; as, arm in arm, we followed our two horses andour sea-chests which the men bore shoreward and up the steep hill tothe Half-Moon Tavern, we argued every step; at the tavern we argued, she in her chamber, I in mine, the door open between; argued andargued, finally rising in our earnestness and meeting on the commonthreshold to continue a discussion in which tears, lips, and arms soonsupplanted logic and reason. 

Had she remained at West Point, although that fortress could not havebeen taken except by a regular siege, still she might have beensubjected to all the horrors of blockade and bombardment, for since hisExcellency had abandoned the Hudson with his army and was alreadyhalf-way to Virginia, nothing now stood between West Point and theheavy British garrison of New York. 

It was my knowledge of that more than her pleading that reconciled meto leave her in Albany. 

But I was soon to learn that she was by no means secure in the choice Ihad made for her; for presently she retired to her own chamber and laydown on her bed to rest for an hour or so before supper, in order torecover from the fatigue and the constant motion of the long voyage;and I went out into the town to inquire where Colonel Willett might befound. 

The sluggish Dutch burghers of Albany appeared to be active enough thatlovely September afternoon; hurrying hither and thither through thestreets, and not one among them sufficiently civil to stop and give mean answer to my question concerning Colonel Willett. At first I couldmake nothing of this amazing bustle and hurry; wagons, loaded withhousehold furniture, clattered through the streets or toiled up and downthe hills, discharging bedding, pots and pans, chairs, tables, thefamily clock, and Heaven knows what, on to the wharves, where a greatmany sloops and other craft were moored, the _Wind-Flower_ among them. 

In the streets, too, wagons were standing before fine residences andshops; servants and black slaves piled them high with all manner ofgoods. I even saw a green parrot in a cage, perched atop of a pile ofcorded bedding, and the bird cocked his head and called outcontinually: "Gad-a-mercy! Gad-a-mercy! Gad-a-mercy!"

An invalid soldier of Colonel Livingston's regiment, his right armbandaged in splints, was standing across the street, apparently vastlyamused by the bird in the wagon; and I crossed over to him and askedwhat all this exodus might signify. 

"Why, the town is in a monstrous fright, friend, " he drawled, cradlinghis shattered arm and puffing away at his cob-pipe. "Since April, whenthem red-devils of Brant's struck Cherry Valley for the second time, and cleaned up some score and odd women and children, these herethrifty Dutchmen in Albany have been ready to pack up and pull foot atthe first breath o' foul news. "

"But, " said I, "what news has alarmed them now?"

"Hey? Scairt 'em? Waal, rumors is thicker than spotted flies in thesugar-bush. Some say the enemy are a-scalping at Torlock, some sayLittle Falls. We heard last week that Schenectady was threatened. Itmay be true, for there's a pest o' Tories loose in the outlying county, and them there bloody Iroquois skulk around the farms and shoot littlechildren in their own dooryards. "

"Do you believe there is any danger in Albany?" I asked incredulously. 

He shrugged his shoulders, nursing his bandaged arm. 

Then, troubled and apprehensive, I asked him where I might find ColonelWillett, and he said that a scout was now out toward Johnstown, andthat Willett led it. This was all he knew, all the information I couldget from him. Returning along the dusty, steep streets to the Half-MoonTavern, I called in the stolid Dutch landlord, requesting information;but he knew nothing at all except that a number of timid people werepacking up because an express had come in the night before with newsthat a body of Tories and Indians had attacked Cobleskill, taken a Mr. Warner, and murdered the entire family of a Captain Dietz--father, mother, wife, four little children, and a Scotch servant-girl, JessieDean. 

Observing the horror with which I received the news he shook his head, pulled at his long pipe for a few moments in thoughtful silence, andsaid:

"What shall we do, sir? They kill us everywhere. Better die at homethan in the bush. I think a man's as safe here in Albany as in anyplace, unless he quits all and leaves affairs to go to ruin to skulk inone o' the valley forts. But they've even burned Stanwix now, and theblockhouses are poor defense against Iroquois fire-arrows. If I had awife I'd take her to Johnstown Fort; it's built of stone, they say. Besides, Marinus Willett is there. I wish to God he were here!"

We lingered in the empty tap-room for a while, talking in low voices ofthe peril; and I was certainly amazed, so utterly unprepared was I tofind such a town as Albany in danger from the roaming scalping partiesinfesting the frontier. 

Still, had my own headquarters been in Albany, I should have consideredit the proper place for Elsin; but under these ominous, unlooked-forconditions I dared not leave her here, even domiciled with some familyof my acquaintance, as I had intended. Indeed, I learned that the youngpatroon himself had gone to Heldeberg to arm his tenantry, and I knewthat when Stephen Van Rensselaer took alarm it was not at the idlewhistling of a kill-deer plover. 

As far as I could see there was now nothing for Elsin but to go forwardwith me--strange irony of fate!--to Johnstown, perhaps to Butlersbury, the late residence of that mortal enemy of mine, who had brought uponher this dreadful trouble. How great a trouble it might prove to be Idared not yet consider, for the faint hope was ever in me that thisunholy marriage might not stand the search of Tryon County's parishrecords--that the poor creature he had cast off might not have been hismistress after all, but his wife. Yes, I dared hope that he had lied, remembering what Mount and the Weasel told me. At any rate, I had longsince determined to search what parish records might remain undestroyedin a land where destruction had reigned for four terrible years. That, and the chance that I might slay him if he appeared as he hadthreatened, were the two fixed ideas that persisted. There was littlecertainty, however, in either case, for, as I say, the records, ifextant, might only confirm his pledged word, and, on the other hand, Iwas engaged by all laws of honor not to permit a private enmity toswerve me from my public duty. Therefore, I could neither abandon allelse to hunt him down if he appeared as he promised to appear, nor taketime in record-searching, unless the documents were close at hand. 

Perplexed, more than anxious, I went up-stairs and entered my chamber. The door between our rooms still swung open, and, as I stepped forwardto close it, I saw Elsin there, asleep on her bed, fingers doubled upin her rosy palms. So young, so pitifully alone she seemed, lying theresleep-flushed, face upturned, that my eyes dimmed as I gazed. Bitterdoubts assailed me. I knew that I should have asked a flag and sent hernorth to Sir Frederick Haldimand--even though it meant a finalseparation for us--rather than risk the chances of my living throughthe armed encounter, the intrigues, the violence which were so surelyapproaching. I could do so still; it was not too late. Colonel Willettwould give me a flag!

Miserable, undecided, overwhelmed with self-reproach, I stood therelooking upon the unconscious sleeper. Sunlight faded from the patternedwall; that violet tint, which lingers with us in the north after thesun has set, deepened to a sadder color, then slowly thickened toobscurity; and from the window I saw the new moon hanging throughtangled branches, dull as a silver-poplar leaf in November. 

What if I die here on the frontier? The question persisted, repeatingitself again and again. And my thoughts ran on in somber disorder: If Idie--then we shall never know wedded happiness--never know the sweetestof intimacies. Our lives, uncompleted, what meaning is there in suchlives? As for me, were my life to end all incomplete, why was I born?To live on, year after year, escaping the perils all are heir to, andthen, when for the first instant life's true meaning is disclosed, todie, sterile, blighting, desolating another life, too? And must we putaway offered happiness to wait on custom at our peril?--to sit cowedbefore convention, juggling with death and passion?

Darkness around me, darkness in my soul, I stood staring at her whereshe lay, arms bent back and small hands doubled up; and an overwhelmingrush of tenderness and apprehension drew me forward to bend above her, hovering there, awed by the beauty of her--the pure lids, the lashesresting on the cheeks, the red mouth so exquisitely tranquil, curledlike a scarlet petal of a flower fallen on snow. 

Her love and mine! What cared we for laws that barred it?--whatmattered any law that dared attempt to link her destiny with that manwho might, perhaps, wear a title as her husband--and might not. Whojoined them? No God that I feared or worshiped. Then, why should I notsunder a pact inspired by hell itself; and if the law of the land madeby men of the land permitted us no sanctuary in wedlock, then why didwe not seek that shelter in a happiness the law forbids, inspired by apassion no law could forbid?

I had but to reach forward, to bend and touch her, and where wasDeath's triumph if I fell at last? What vague and terrible justicecould rob us of these hours? Never, never had I loved her as I didthen. She breathed so quietly, lying there, that I could not see herbody stir; her stillness awed me, fascinated me; so still, so inert, somarvelously motionless, that her very soul seemed asleep within her. Should I awake her, this child whose calm, closed lids, whose softlashes and tinted skin, whose young soul and body were in my keepinghere under a strange roof, in a strange land?

Slowly, very slowly, a fear grew in me that took the shape of horror. My reasoning was the reasoning of Walter Butler!--my argument hisdamning creed! Dazed, shaken, I sank to my knees, overwhelmed by my ownperfidy; and she stirred in her slumber and stretched out one littlehand. All the chivalry, all the manhood in me responded to that appealin a passion of loyalty which swept my somber heart clean ofselfishness. 

And there in the darkness I learned the lesson that she believed I hadtaught to her--a lesson so easily forgotten when the heart's loud clamordrowns all else, and every pulse throbs reckless response. And it wascold reasoning and chill logic for cooling hot young blood--but it wasneither reason nor logic which prevailed, I think, but something--I knownot what--something inborn that conquered spite of myself, and a guiltyand rebellious heart that, after all, had only asked for love, at anyprice--only love, but _all_ of it, its sweetness unbridled, its mysteryunfathomed--lest the body die, and the soul, unsatisfied, wing upward toeternal ignorance. 

As I crouched there beside her, in the darkness below the tallhall-clock fell a-striking; and she moved, sighed, and satup--languid-eyed and pink from slumber. 

"Carus, " she murmured, "how long have I slept? How long have you beenhere, my darling? Heigho! Why did you wake me? I was in paradise withyou but now. Where are you? I am minded to drowse, and go find you inparadise again. "

She pushed her hair aside and turned, resting her chin on one hand, regarding me with sweet, sleepy, humorous eyes that glimmered likeamethysts in the moonlight. 

"Were ever two lovers so happy?" she asked. "Is there anything on earththat we lack?--possessing each other so completely. Tell me, Carus. "

"Nothing, " I said. 

"Nothing, " she echoed, leaning toward me and resting in my arms for amoment, then laid her hands on my shoulders, and, raising herself to asitting posture, fell a-laughing to herself. 

"While you were gone this afternoon, " she said, "and I was lying here, eyes wide open, seeming to feel the bed sway like the ship, I fell tocounting the ticking of the stair-clock below, and thinking how eachsecond was recording the eternity of my love for you. And as I laya-listening and thinking, came one by the window singing 'John O'Bail', and I heard voices in the tap-room and the clatter of pewter flagons. On a settle outside the tap-room window, full in the sun, sat thesongster and his companions, drinking new ale and singing 'JohnO'Bail'--a song I never chanced to hear before, and I shall not soonforget it for lack of schooling"--and she sang softly, sitting there, clasping her knees, and swaying with the quaint rhythm:

 "'Where do you wend your way, John O'Bail, Where do you wend your way?' 'I follow the spotted trail Till a maiden bids me stay, ' 'Beware of the trail, John O'Bail, Beware of the trail, I say!'

"Thus it runs, Carus, the legend of this John O'Bail, how he sought thewilderness, shunning his kind, and traveled and trapped and slew thedeer, until one day at sunrise a maid of the People of the Morninghailed him, bidding him stay:

 "'Turn to the fire of dawn, John O'Bail, Turn to the fire of dawn; The doe that waits in the vale Was a fawn in the year that's gone!' And John O'Bail he heeds the hail And follows her on and on. 

"Oh, Carus, they sang it and sang it, hammering their pewters together, and roaring the chorus, and that last dreadful verse:

 "'Where is the soul of you, John O'Bail, Where is the soul you slew? There's Painted Death on the trail, And the moccasins point to you. Shame on the name of John O'Bail----'"

She hesitated, peering through the shadows at me: "Who _was_ JohnO'Bail, Carus? What is the Painted Death, and who are the People of theMorning?"

"John O'Bail was a wandering fellow who went a-gipsying into theDelaware country. The Delawares call themselves 'People of theMorning. ' This John O'Bail had a son by an Indian girl--and that's whatthey made the ballad about, because this son is that mongrel demon, Cornplanter, and he's struck the frontier like a catamount gone ravingmad. He is the 'Painted Death. '"

"Oh, " she said thoughtfully, "so that is why they curse the name ofJohn O'Bail. "

After a moment she went on again: "Well, you'll never guess who it wassinging away down there! I crept to my windows and peeped out, andthere, Carus, were those two queer forest-running fellows who stoppedus on the hill that morning----"

"Jack Mount!" I exclaimed. 

"Yes, dear, and the other--the little wrinkled fellow, who had suchstrangely fine manners for a Coureur-de-Bois----"

"The Weasel!"

"Yes, Carus, but very drunk, and boisterous, and cutting most amazingcapers. They went off, finally, arm in arm, shuffling, reeling, andanon breaking into a solemn sort of dance; and everybody gave them wideberth on the street, and people paused to look after them, marking themwith sour visages and wagging heads--" She stopped short, finger onlips, listening. 

Far up the street I heard laughter, then a plaintive, sustainedhowling, then more laughter, drawing nearer and nearer. 

Elsin nodded in silence. I sprang up and descended the stairs. Thetap-room was lighted with candles, and the sober burghers who satwithin, savoring the early ale, scarce noted my entrance, so intentwere they listening to the approaching tumult. 

The peculiar howling had recommenced. Stepping to the open door Ilooked out, and beheld a half-dozen forest-runners, in all the glory ofdeep-fringed buckskin and bright wampum, slowly hopping round and roundin a circle, the center of which was occupied by an angry townwatchman, lanthorn lighted, pike in hand. As they hopped, lifting theirmoccasined feet as majestically as turkeys walking in a muddy road, fetching a yelp at every step, I perceived in their grotesqueevolutions a parody upon a Wyandotte scalp-dance, the while they yappedand yowled, chanting:

 "Ha-wa-sa-say Ha! Ha! Ha-wa-sa-say!"

"Dance, watchman, dance!" shouted one of the rangers, whom I knew to beJack Mount, poking the enraged officer in the short ribs with themuzzle of his rifle; and the watchman, with a snarl, picked up his feetand began to tread a reluctant measure, calling out that he did notdesire to dance, and that they were great villains and rogues andshould pay for it yet. 

I saw some shopkeepers putting up the shutters before their lightedwindows, while the townspeople stood about in groups, agape, to seesuch doings in the public streets. 

"Silence!" shouted Mount, raising his hand. "People of Albany, we haveshown you the famous Wyandotte dance; we will now exhibit a dancingbear! Houp! Houp! Weasel, take thy tin cup and collect shillings! Ow!Ow!" And he dropped his great paws so that they dangled at the wrist, laid his head on one side, and began sidling around in a circle withthe grave, measured tread of a bear, while the Weasel, drinking-cup inhand, industriously trotted in and out among the groups of scandalizedburghers, thrusting the tin receptacle at them, and talking all thewhile: "Something for the bear, gentlemen--a trifle, if you please. Everybody is permitted to contribute--you, sir, with your bones sonicely wadded over with fat--a shilling from you. What? How dare yourefuse? Stop him, Tim!"

A huge ranger strode after the amazed burgher, blocking his way; thethrifty had taken alarm, but the rangers herded them back withpersuasive playfulness, while the little Weasel made the rounds, talking cheerfully all the time, and Mount, great fists dangling, minced round and round, with a huge simper on his countenance, asthough shyly aware of his own grace. 

"Tim Murphy should go into the shops, " he called out. "There are adozen fat Dutchmen a-peeking through the shutters at me, and I dancebefore no man for less than a shilling. Houp! Houp! How much is in thycup, Cade? Lord, what a thirst is mine! Yet I dance--villains, do youmark me? Oh, Cade, yonder pretty maid who laughs and shows her teeth iswelcome to the show and naught to pay--unless she likes. Tim, I candance no more! Elerson, bring the watchman!"

The Weasel trotted up, rattling the coins so unwillingly contributed bythe economical; the runner addressed as Elerson tucked his armaffectionately into the arm of the distracted watchman and strolled up, followed by Tim Murphy, the most redoubtably notorious shot in NorthAmerica. 

Laughing, disputing, shouting, they came surging toward the Half-MoonTavern, dragging the watchman, on whom they lavished many endearments. The crowd parted with alacrity as Mount, thumbs in his armpits, silver-moleskin cap pushed back on his clustering curls, swaggeredahead, bowing right and left as though an applauding throng heraldedthe progress of an emperor and his suite. 

Here and there a woman laughed at the handsome, graceless fellows; hereand there a burgher managed to pull a grin, spite of the toll exacted. 

"Now that our means permit us, we are going to drink your healths, goodpeople, " said Mount affably, shaking the tin cup; "and the health ofthat pretty maid who showed her teeth at me. Ladies of Albany, if youbut knew the wealth of harmless frolic caged in the heart that beatsbeneath a humble rifle-frock! Eh, Tim? Off with thy coonskin, and sweepthe populace with thy courtly bow!"

Murphy lifted his coonskin cap, flourishing it till the ringed fur-tailbecame a blur. Elerson, in a spasm of courtesy, removed the watchman'stricorn as well as his own; the little Weasel backed off, bowing stepby step, until he backed past me into the tap-room, followed by thebuckskinned crew. 

"Now, watchman, have at thee!" roared Mount, as the sloppy pewters werebrought. 

And the watchman, resigned, pulled away at his mug, furtive eyes on thelandlord, who, with true delicacy, looked the other way. At that momentMount espied me and rose, pewter in hand, with a shout that brought allto their feet. 

"Death to the Iroquois!" he thundered, "and a health to Captain Renaultof the Rangers!"

Every eye was on me; the pewters were lifted, reversed, and emptied. The next instant I was in the midst of a trampling, buckskinned mob;they put me up on their shoulders and marched around the tap-room, singing "Morgan's Men"; they set me on their table amid the pools ofspilled ale, and, joining hands, danced round and round, singing "TheNew Yorker" and "John O'Bail, " until more ale was fetched and a cuphanded up to me. 

"Silence! The Captain speaks!" cried Mount. 

"Captain?" said I, laughing. "I am no officer. "

There was a mighty roar of laughter, amid which I caught cries of "Hedoesn't know. " "Where's the 'Gazette'?" "Show him the 'Gazette'!"

The stolid landlord picked up a newspaper from a table, spread itdeliberately, drew his horn spectacles from his pocket, wiped them, adjusted them, and read aloud a notice of my commission from GovernorClinton to be a senior captain in the Tryon County Rangers. Utterlyunprepared, dumb with astonishment, I stared at him through theswelling din. Somebody thrust the paper at me. I read the item, mug inone hand, paper in t'other. 

"Death to the Iroquois!" they yelled. "Hurrah for Captain Renault!"

"Silence!" bawled Mount. "Listen to the Captain!"

"Rangers of Tryon, " I said, hesitating, "this great honor which ourGovernor has done me is incomprehensible to me. What experience have Ito lead such veterans?--men of Morgan's, men of Hand's, men ofSaratoga, of Oriska, of Stillwater?--I who have never laid rifle inanger--I who have never seen a man die by violence?"

The hush was absolute. 

"It must be, " said I, "that such service as I have had the honor torender has made me worthy, else this commission had been an affront tothe Rangers of Tryon County. And so, my brothers, that I may not shameyou, I ask two things: obedience to orders; respect for my rank; and ifyou render not respect to my character, that will be my fault, not yourown. "

I raised my pewter: "The sentiment I give you is: 'The Rangers! Myhonor in their hands; theirs in mine!' Pewters aloft! Drink!"

Then the storm broke loose; they surged about the table, cheering, shaking their rifles and pewters above their heads, crying out for meto have no fear, that they would aid me, that they would be obedientand good--a mob of uproarious, overgrown children, swayed by sentimententirely. And I even saw the watchman, maudlin already, dancing all byhimself in a corner, and waving pike and lanthorn in martial fervor. 

"Lads, " I said, raising my hand for silence, "there is ale here for theasking, and nothing to pay. But we leave at daybreak for Butlersbury. "

There was a dead silence. 

"That is all, " I said, smiling; and, laying my hand on the table, leaped lightly to the floor. 

"Are we to drink no more?" asked Jack Mount, coming up, with round blueeyes widening. 

"I did not say so. I said that we march at day-break. You veterans ofthe pewter know best how much ale to carry with you to bed. All Irequire are some dozen steady legs in the morning. "

A roar of laughter broke out. 

"You may trust us, Captain! Good night, Captain! A health to you, sir!We will remember!"

Instead of returning to my chamber to secure a few hours' rest, I wentout into the dimly lighted street, and, striking a smart pace, arrivedin a few moments at the house of my old friend, Peter Van Schaick, nowColonel in command of the garrison. The house was pitch-dark, and itwas only after repeated rapping that the racket of the big bronzeknocker aroused an ancient negro servant, who poked his woolly patefrom the barred side-lights and informed me, in a quavering voice, thatColonel Van Schaick was not at home, refusing all further informationconcerning him. 

"Joshua! Joshua!" I said gently; "don't you know me?"

There was a silence, then a trembling: "Mars' Renault, suh, is datyou?"

"It is I, Joshua, back again after four years. Tell me where I may findyour master?"

"Mars' Carus, suh, de Kunnel done gone to de Foht, suh--Foht Orange onde hill. "

The old slave used the ancient name of the fort, but I understood. 

"Does anybody live here now except the Colonel, Joshua?"

"No, suh, nobody 'cep' de Kunnel--'scusin' me, Mars' Carus. "

"Joshua, " I said, under my breath, "you know all the gossip of thecountry. Tell me, do you remember a young gentleman who used to comehere before the war--a handsome, dark-eyed gentleman--Lieutenant WalterN. Butler?"

There was an interval of silence. 

"Wuz de ossifer a-sparkin' de young misses at Gin'ral Schuyler's?"

"Yes, Joshua. "

"A-co'tin' Miss Betty, suh?"

"Yes, yes. Colonel Hamilton married her. That is the man, Joshua. Tellme, did you ever hear of Mr. Butler's marriage in Butlersbury?"

A longer silence, then: "No, suh. Hit wuz de talk ob de town dat SuhJohn Johnsing done tuk Miss Polly Watts foh his lady-wife, an' all detime po'l'l Miss Claire wuz a-settin' in Foht Johnsing, dess a-cryin'her eyes out. But Mars' Butler he done tuk an' run off 'long o' dathalf-caste lady de ossifers call Carolyn Montour----"

"What!"

"Yaas, suh. Dat de way Mars' Butler done carry on, suh. He doneskedaddle 'long o' M'ss Carolyn. Hit wuz a Mohawk weddin', Mars'Carus. "

"He never married her?"

"Mars' Butler he ain' gwine ma'hy nobody ef he ain' 'bleeged, suh. Hedess lak all de young gentry, suh--'scusin' you'se'f, Mars' Carus. "

I nodded in grim silence. After a moment I asked him to open the doorfor me, but he shook his aged head, saying: "Ef a ossifer done tell youwhat de Kunnel done tell me, what you gwine do, Mars' Carus, suh?"

"Obey, " I said briefly. "You're a good servant, Joshua. When ColonelVan Schaick returns, say to him that Captain Renault of the Rangersmarches to Butlersbury at sunup, and that if Colonel Van Schaick canspare six bat-horses and an army transport-wagon, to be at theHalf-Moon at dawn, Captain Renault will be vastly obliged to him, andwill certainly render a strict accounting to the proper authorities. "

Then I turned, descended the brick stoop, and walked slowly back to myquarters, a prey to apprehension and bitter melancholy. For if it weretrue that Walter Butler had done this thing, the law of the land was onhis side; and if the war ended with him still alive, the courts mustsustain him in this monstrous claim on Elsin Grey. Thought halted. Wasit possible that Walter Butler had dared invade the tiger-brood ofCatrine Montour to satisfy his unslaked lust?

Was it possible that he dared affront the she-demon of Catherinestownby ignoring an alliance with her fiercely beautiful child?--an alliancethat Catrine Montour must have considered legal and binding, howeverirregular it might appear to jurists. 

I was astounded. Where passion led this libertine, nothing barred hisway--neither fear nor pity. And he had even dared to reckon with thisfrightful hag, Catrine Montour--this devil's spawn of Frontenac--andher tawny offspring. 

I had seen the girl, Carolyn, at Guy Park--a splendid young animal, ofsixteen then, darkly beautiful, wild as a forest-cat. No wonder thebeast in him had bristled at view of her; no wonder the fierce passionin her had leaped responsive to his forest courtship. By heaven, aproper mating in the shaggy hills of Danascara! Yes, but when the malebeast emerges, yellow eyes fixed on the dead line that should bar himfrom the haunts of men, then, _then_ it is time that a man shall ariseand stand against him--stand for honor and right and light, and drivehim back to the darkness of his lair again, or slay him at the sunlitgates of that civilization he dared to challenge. 

CHAPTER X

SERMONS IN STONES

By sunup we had left the city on the three hills, Elsin, Colonel VanSchaick, and I, riding our horses at the head of the little column, followed by an escort of Rangers. Behind the Rangers plodded the ladenbat-horses, behind them creaked an army transport-wagon, loaded withprovisions and ammunition, drawn by two more horses, and the rear wascovered by another squad of buckskinned riflemen, treading lightly indouble file. 

Nobody had failed me. My reckless, ale-swilling Rangers had kept thetryst with swollen eyes but steady legs; a string of bat-horses stoodat the door of the Half-Moon when Elsin and I descended; and a momentlater the army wagon came jolting and bumping down the hilly street, followed by Colonel Van Schaick and a dozen dragoons. 

When he saw me he did not recognize me, so broad and tall had I becomein these four years. Besides, I wore my forest-dress of heavily fringeddoeskin, and carried the rifle given me by Colonel Hamilton. 

"Hallo, Peter!" I called out, laughing. 

"_You!_ Can that be you, Carus!" he cried, spurring up to me where I satmy horse, and seizing me by both caped shoulders. "Lord! Look at thelad! Six feet, or I'm a Mohawk!--six feet in his moccasins, and his hairsheered close and his cap o' one side, like any forest-swaggeringfree-rifle! Carus! Carus! Damme, if I'll call you Captain! Didn't yougreet me but now with your impudent 'Hallo, Peter!'? Didn't you, youundisciplined rogue? By gad, you've kept your promise for aheart-breaker, you curly-headed, brown-eyed forest dandy!"

He gave me a hug and a hearty shake, so that the thrums tossed, and mylittle round cap of doeskin flew from my head. I clutched it ere itfell, and keeping it in my hand, presented him to Elsin. 

"We are affianced, Peter, " I said quietly. "Colonel Willett must playguardian until this fright in Albany subsides. "

"Oh, the luck o' that man Willett!" he exclaimed, beaming on Elsin, andsaluting the hand she stretched out. "Why do you not choose a man likeme, madam? Heaven knows, such a reward is all I ask of my country'sgratitude! And you are going to marry this fellow Carus? Is this whatsinners such as he may look for? Gad, madam, I'm done with decency, andshall rig me in fringed shirt and go whipping through the woods, ifsuch maidens as you find that attractive!"

"I find you exceedingly attractive, Colonel Van Schaick, " she said, laughing--"so attractive that I ask your protection against this manwho desires to be rid of me at any cost. "

Van Schaick swore that I was a villain, and offered to run off with herat the drop of her 'kerchief, but when I spoke seriously of the dangerat Albany, he sobered quickly enough, and we rode to the head of thelittle column, now ready to move. 

"March, " I said briefly; and we started. 

"I'll ride a little way with you, " said the Colonel--"far enough to saythat when Joshua gave me your message on my return last night I sent myorderly to find the wagon and animals and provision for three days'march. You can make it in two if you like, or even in twenty-fourhours. "

I thanked him and asked about the rumors which had so alarmed thepeople in Albany; but he shook his head, saying he knew nothing exceptthat there were scalping parties out, and that he for one believed themto be the advance of an invading force from Canada. 

"You ask me where this sweet lady will be safest, " he continued, "and Ianswer that only God knows. Were I you, Carus, I should rather have hernear me; so if your duty takes you to Johnstown it may be best that sheremain with you until these rumors become definite. Then, it might bewell that she return to Albany and stay with friends like theSchuylers, or the Van Rensselaers, or Colonel Hamilton's lady, if theseworthy folk deem it safe to remain. "

"Have they gone?" I asked. 

"They're preparing to go, " he said gloomily. "Oh, Carus, when we hadWalter Butler safe in Albany jail in '78, why did we not hang him? Hewas taken as a spy, tried, and properly condemned. I remember well howhe pretended illness, and how that tender-hearted young MarquisLafayette was touched by his plight, and begged that he be sent tohospital in the comfortable house of some citizen. Ah, had we knownwhat that human tiger was meditating! Think of it, Carus! You knew him, did you not, when he came a-courting Margaret Schuyler? Lord! who couldbelieve that Walter Butler would so soon be smeared with the blood ofwomen and children? Who could believe that this young man would so soonbe damned with the guilt of Cherry Valley?"

We rode on in silence. I dared not glance at Elsin; I found no pretextto stop Van Schaick; and, still in perfect silence, we wheelednorthwest into the Schenectady road, where Peter took leave of us inhis own simple, hearty fashion, and wheeled about, galloping back upthe slope, followed by his jingling dragoons. 

I turned to take my last look at the three hills and the quaint Dutchcity. Far away on the ramparts of the fort I saw our beloved flagfluttering, a gay spot in the sunshine, with its azure, rose, andsilvery tints blending into the fresh colors of early morning. I saw, too, the ruined fort across the river, where that British surgeon, Dr. Stackpole, composed the immortal tune of "Yankee Doodle" to derideus--that same tune to which my Lord Cornwallis was now dancing, whilewe whistled it from West Point to Virginia. 

As I sat my saddle there, gazing at the city I had thought so wonderfulwhen I was a lad fresh from Broadalbin Bush, I seemed once more towander with my comrades, Stephen Van Rensselaer, Steve Watts, and JackJohnson--now Sir John--a-fishing troutlings from the Norman's Kill, that ripples through the lovely vale of Tawasentha. Once more I seemedto see the patroon's great manor-house through the drooping foliage ofthe park elms, and the stately mansion of our dear General Schuyler, with its two tall chimneys, its dormers, roof-rail, and long avenue oftrees; and on the lawn I seemed to see pretty little Margaret, nowgrown to womanhood and affianced to the patroon; and Betty Schuyler, who scarce a year since wedded my handsome Colonel Hamilton--that samelively Betty who so soon sent Walter Butler about his business, thoughhis veins were like to burst with pride o' the blood in them, that hedeclared came straight from the Earls of Arran and the great Dukes ofOrmond and of Ossery. 

"Of what are you thinking?" asked Elsin softly. 

"Of my boyhood, dearest. Yonder is the first city I ever beheld. ShallI tell you of it--and of that shy country lad who came hither to learnsomething of deportment, so that he might venture to enter an assemblyand forget his hands and feet?"

"Were _you_ ever awkward, Carus?"

"Awkward as a hound-pup learning to walk. "

"I shall never believe it, " she declared, laughing; and we movedforward on the Schenectady road, Murphy, Mount, Elerson, and the littleWeasel trotting faithfully at heel, and the brown column trailing awayin their dustless wake. 

I had not yet forgotten the thrill of her quick embrace when, as we metat the breakfast-table by candle-light, I had told her of my commissionand of our Governor's kindness. And just to see the flush of pride inher face, I spoke of it again; and her sweet eyes' quick response wasthe most wonderful to me of all the fortune that had fallen to my lot. I turned proudly in my saddle, looking back upon the people nowentrusted to me--and as I looked, pride changed to apprehension, and aquick prayer rose in my heart that I, a servant of my country, mightnot prove unequal to the task set me. 

Sobered, humbled, I rode on, asking in silence God's charity for myignorance, and His protection for her I loved, and for these humansouls entrusted to my care in the dark hours of the approaching trial. 

North and northwest we traveled on a fair road, which ran throughpleasant farming lands, stretches of woods, meadows, andstubble-fields. At first we saw men at work in the fields, not many, but every now and again some slow Dutch yokel, with his sunburned faceturned from his labor to watch us pass. But the few farmhouses becamefewer, and these last were deserted. Finally no more houses appeared, and stump-lots changed to tangled clearings, and these into secondgrowth, and these at last into the primeval forests, darklymagnificent, through which our road, now but a lumber road, ran moistand dark, springy and deep with the immemorial droppings of the trees. 

Without command of mine, four lithe riflemen had trotted off ahead. Inow ordered four more to act on either flank, and called up part of therear-guard to string out in double file on either side of the animalsand wagon. The careless conversation in the ranks, the sudden laugh, the clumsy skylarking all ceased. Tobacco-pipes were emptied andpouched, flints and pans scrutinized, straps and bandoleers tightened, moccasins relaced. The batmen examined ropes, wagon-wheels, andharness, and I saw them furtively feeling for their hatchets to seethat everything was in place. 

Thankful that I had a company of veterans and no mob of godless andsilly trappers, bawling contempt of everything Indian, I unconsciouslybegan to read the signs of the forest, relapsing easily into thatcautious custom which four years' disuse had nothing rusted. 

And never had man so perfect a companion in such exquisite accord withhis every mood and thought as I had in Elsin Grey. Her sweet, reasonable mind was quick to comprehend. When I fell silent, using myears with all the concentration of my other senses, she listened, too, nor broke the spell by glance or word. Yet, soon as I spoke in lowtones, her soft replies were ready, and when my ever restless eyesreverted, resting a moment on her, her eyes met mine with that perfectconfidence that pure souls give. 

At noon we halted to rest the horses and eat, the pickets going out oftheir own accord. And I did not think it fit to give orders where nonewere required in this company of Irregulars, whose discipline matchedregiments more pretentious, and whose alignment was suited to theconditions. Braddock and Bunker Hill were lessons I had learned toregard as vastly more important than our good Baron's drill-book. 

As I sat eating a bit of bread, cup of water in the other hand. JackMount came swaggering up with that delightful mixture of respect andfamiliarity which brings the hand to the cap but leaves a grin on theface. 

"Well, Jack?" I asked, smiling. 

"Have you noticed any sign, sir?" he inquired. Secretly self-satisfied, he was about to go on and inform me that he and Tim Murphy had noticeda stone standing against a tree--for I saw them stop like pointers on ahot grouse-scent just as we halted to dismount. I was unwilling toforestall him or take away one jot of the satisfaction, so I said:"What have you seen?"

Then he beamed all over and told me; and the Weasel and Tim Murphy cameup to corroborate him, all eagerly pointing out the stone to me whereit rested against the base of a black ash. 

"Well, " said I, smiling, "how do you interpret that sign?"

"Iroquois!" said the rangers promptly. 

"Yes, but are they friendly or hostile?"

The question seemed to them absurd, but they answered very civilly thatit was a signal of some sort which could only be interpreted byIndians, and that they had no doubt that it meant some sort of mischiefto us. 

"Men, " I said quietly, "you are wrong. That stone leaning upon a treeis a friendly message to me from a body of our Oneida scouts. "

They stared incredulously. 

"I will prove it, " said I. "Jack, go you to that stone. On the underside you will find a number of white marks made with paint. I can nottell you how many, but the number will indicate the number of Oneidaswho are scouting for us ahead. "

Utterly unconvinced, yet politely obedient, the blond giant strode offacross the road, picked up the great stone as though it were a pompion, turned it over, uttered an exclamation, and bore it back to us. 

"You see, " I said, "twenty Oneida scouts will join us about two o'clockthis afternoon if we travel at the same rate that we are traveling. This white circle traced here represents the sun; the straight line themeridian. Calculating roughly, I should set the time of meeting at twoo'clock. Now, Jack, take the stone to the stream yonder and scrub offthe paint with moss and gun-oil, then drop the stone into the water. And you, Tim Murphy, go quietly among the men and caution them not tofire on a friendly Oneida. That is all, lads. We march in a fewmoments. "

The effect upon the rangers was amusing; their kindly airs ofgood-natured protection vanished; Mount gazed wildly at me; Tim Murphy, perfectly convinced yet unable to utter a word, saluted and marchedoff, while Elerson and the Weasel stood open-mouthed, fingering theirrifles until the men began to fall in silently, and I put up Elsin andmounted my roan, motioning Murphy and Jack Mount to my stirrups. 

"Small wonder I read such signs, " I said. "I am an Oneida chief, anensign, and a sachem. Come freely to me when signs of the Iroquoispuzzle you. It would not have been very wise to open fire on our ownscouts. "

It seemed strange to them--it seemed strange to me--that I should beinstructing the two most accomplished foresters in America. Yet it isever the old story; all else they could read that sky and earth, landand water, tree and rock held imprinted for savant eyes, but they couldnot read the simple signs and symbols by which the painted men of thewoods conversed with one another. Pride, contempt for the savage--thesetwo weaknesses stood in their way. And no doubt, now, they consoledthemselves with the thought that a dead Iroquois, friendly orotherwise, was no very great calamity. This was a danger, but I did notchoose to make it worse by harping on it. 

About two o'clock a ranger of the advanced guard came running back tosay that some two score Iroquois, stripped and painted for war, weremaking signs of amity from the edge of the forest in front of us. 

I heard Mount grunt and Murphy swearing softly under his breath as Irode forward, with a nod to Elsin. 

"Now you will see some friends of my boyhood, " I said gaily, unlacingthe front of my hunting-shirt as I rode, and laying it open to thewind. 

"Carus!" she exclaimed, "what is that blue mark on your breast?"

"Only a wolf, " I said, laughing. "Now you shall see how we Oneidas meetand greet after many years! Look, Elsin! See that Indian standing therewith his gun laid on his blanket? The three rangers have taken tocover. There they stand, watching that Oneida like three tree-cats. "

As I cantered up and drew bridle Elerson called out that there weretwenty savages in the thicket ahead, and to be certain that I was notmistaken. 

The tall Oneida looked calmly up at me; his glittering eyes fell uponmy naked breast, and, as he looked, his dark face lighted, and hestretched out both hands. 

"Onehda!" he ejaculated. 

I leaned from my saddle, holding his powerful hands in a close clasp. 

"Little Otter! Is it you, my younger brother? Is it really you?" Irepeated again and again, while his brilliant eyes seemed to devour myface, and his sinewy grip tightened spasmodically. 

"What happiness, Onehda!" he said, in his softly sonorous Oneidadialect. "What happiness for the young men--and the sachems--and thewomen and children, too, Onehda. It is well that you return to us--tothe few of us who are left. Koue!"

And now the Oneidas were coming out of the willows, crowding up aroundmy horse, and I heard everywhere my name pronounced, and everywhereoutstretched hands sought mine, and painted faces were lifted tomine--even the blackened visage of the war-party's executioner relaxinginto the merriest of smiles. 

"Onehda, " he said, "do you remember that feast when you were raisedup?"

"Does an Oneida and a Wolf forget?" I said, smiling. 

An emphatic "No!" broke from the painted throng about me. 

Elsin, sitting her saddle at a little distance, watched us wide-eyed. 

"Brothers, " I said quietly, "a new rose has budded in Tryon County. TheOneidas will guard it for the honor of their nation, lest the northernfrost come stealing south to blight the blossom. "

Two score dark eyes flashed on Elsin. She started; then a smile brokeout on her flushed face as a painted warrior stalked solemnly forward, bent like a king, and lifted the hem of her foot-mantle to his lips. One by one the Oneidas followed, performing the proud homage insilence, then stepping back to stand with folded arms as the head ofthe column appeared at the bend of the road. 

I called Little Otter to me, questioning him; and he said that as faras they had gone there were no signs of Mohawk or Cayuga, but that thebush beyond should be traversed with caution. So I called in theflanking rangers, replacing them with Oneidas, and, sending the balanceof the band forward on a trot, waited five minutes, then started onwith a solid phalanx of riflemen behind to guard the rear. 

As we rode, Elsin and I talking in low tones, mile after mile slippedaway through the dim forest trail, and nothing to alarm us that Inoted, save once when I saw another stone set upon a stone; but I knewmy Oneidas had also seen and examined it, and it had not alarmed themsufficiently to send a warrior back to me. 

It was an Oneida symbol; but, of course, my scouts had not set it up. Therefore it must have been placed there by an enemy, but for whatpurpose except to arrest the attention of an Oneida and prepare him forlater signals, I could not yet determine. Mount had seen it, and spokenof it, but I shook my head, bidding him keep his eyes sharpened forfurther signs. 

Signs came sooner than I expected. We passed stone after stone set onend, all emphasizing the desire of somebody to arrest the attention ofan Oneida. Could it be I? A vague premonition had scarcely taken shapein my mind when, at a turn in the road, I came upon three of my Oneidascouts standing in the center of the road. The seven others must havegone on, for I saw nothing of them. The next moment I caught sight ofsomething that instantly riveted and absorbed my attention. 

From a huge pine towering ahead of us, and a little to the right, agreat square of bark had been carefully removed about four feet fromthe ground. On this fresh white scar were painted three significantsymbols--the first a red oblong, about eighteen inches by four, onwhich were designed two human figures, representing Indians, holdinghands. Below that, drawn in dark blue, were a pair of stag's antlers, of five prongs; below the antlers--a long way below--was depicted inblack a perfectly recognizable outline of a timber-wolf. 

I rode up to the tree and examined the work. The paint was still softand fresh on the raw wood. Flies swarmed about it. I looked at LittleOtter, making a sign, and his scarcely perceptible nod told me that Ihad read the message aright. 

The message was for me, personally and exclusively; and the red man whohad traced it there not an hour since was an Iroquois, either Canienga, Onondaga, Cayuga, or Seneca--I know not which. Roughly, the translationof the message was this: The Wolf meant me because about it were tracedthe antlers, symbol of chieftainship, and below, on the ground, thesymbol of the Oneida Nation, a long, narrow stone, upright, embedded inthe moss. The red oblong smear represented a red-wampum belt; thefigures on it indicated that, although the belt was red, meaning war, the clasped hands modified the menace, so that I read the entire signas follows:

"An Iroquois desires to see you in order to converse upon a subjectconcerning wars and treaties. "

"Turn over that stone, Little Otter, " I said. 

"I have already done so, " he replied quietly. 

"At what hour does this embassy desire to see me?"

He held up four fingers in silence. 

"Is this Canienga work?"

"Mohawk!" he said bitterly. 

The two terms were synonymous, yet mine was respectful, his acontemptuous insult to the Canienga Nation. No Indian uses the termMohawk in speaking to or of a Mohawk unless they mean an insult. Canienga is the proper term. 

"Is it safe for me to linger here while all go forward?" I asked LittleOtter, lowering my voice so that none except he could hear me. 

He smiled and pointed at the tree. The tree was enormous, a giant pine, dwarfing the tallest tree within range of my vision from where I sat myhorse. I understood. The choice of this great tree for the inscriptionwas no accident; it now symbolized the sacred tree of the SixNations--the tree of heaven. Beneath it any Iroquois was as safe asthough he stood at the eternal council-fire at Onondaga in the presenceof the sachems of the Long House. But why had this unseen embassyrefused to trust himself to this sanctuary? Because of the rangers, towhom no redskin is sacred. 

"Jack Mount, " I said, "take command and march your men forward half amile. Then halt and await me. "

He obeyed without a word. Elsin hesitated, gave me one anxious, backward glance, but my smile seemed to reassure her, and she walkedher black mare forward. Past me marched the little column. I watched itdrawing away northward, until a turn in the forest road hid the wagonand the brown-clad rear-guard. Then I dismounted and sat down, my backto the giant pine, my rifle across my knees, to wait for the redambassador whom I knew would come. 

Minute after minute slipped away. So still it grew that the shy forestcreatures came back to this forest runway, made by dreaded man; andbecause it is the work of a creature they dread and suspect, theircuriosity ever draws them to man-made roads. A cock-grouse firststepped out of the thicket, crest erect, ruff spread; then a hare lopedby, halting to sniff in the herbage. I watched them for a long while, listening intently. Suddenly the partridge wheeled, crest flattened, and ran into the thicket, like a great rat; the hare sat erect, flankspalpitating, then leaped twice, and was gone as shadows go. 

I saw the roadside bushes stir, part, and, as I rose, an Indian leapedlightly into the road and strode straight toward me. He was curiouslypainted with green and orange, and he was stark naked, except that hewore ankle-moccasins, clout, and a fringed pouch, like a quiver, covered with scarlet beads in zigzag pattern. 

He did not seem to notice that I was armed, for he carried his ownrifle most carelessly in the hollow of his left arm, and when he hadhalted before me he coolly laid the weapon across his moccasins. 

The dignified silence that always precedes a formal meeting of strangeIroquois was broken at length by a low, guttural exclamation as hisnarrow-slitted eyes fell upon the tattoo on my bared breast: "Salute, Roy-a-neh!"

"Welcome, O Keeper of the Gate, " I said calmly. 

"Does my younger brother know to which gate-warden he speaks?" askedthe savage warily. 

"When a Wolf barks, the Eastern Gate-Keepers of the Long House listen, "I replied. "It was so in the beginning. What has my elder brother ofthe Canienga to say to me?"

His cunning glance changed instantly to an absolutely expressionlessmask. My white skin no longer made any difference to him. We were nowtwo Iroquois. 

"It is the truth, " he said. "This is the message sent to my youngerbrother, Onehda, chief ensign of the Wolf Clan of the Oneida nation. Iam a belt-bearer. Witness the truth of what I say to you--by this belt. Now read the will of the Iroquois. "

He drew from his beaded pouch a black and white belt of seven rows. Itook it, and, holding it in both hands, gazed attentively into hisface. 

"The Three Wolves listen, " I said briefly. 

"Then listen, noble of the noble clan. The council-fire is covered atOnondaga; but it shall burn again at Thendara. This was so from thefirst, as all know. The council therefore summons their brother, Onehda, as ensign of his clan. The will of the council is the will ofthe confederacy. Hiro! I have spoken. "

"Does a single coal from Onondaga still burn under the great tree, myelder brother?" I asked cautiously. 

"The great tree is at Onondaga, " he answered sullenly; "the fire iscovered. "

Which was as much as to say that there was no sanctuary guaranteed anOneida, even at a federal council. 

"Tell them, " I said deliberately, "that a belt requires a belt; and, when the Wolves talk to the Oneidas, they at Thendara shall beanswered. I have spoken. "

"Do the Three Wolves take counsel with the Six Bears and Turtles?" heasked, with a crafty smile. 

"The trapped wolf has no choice; his howls appeal to the wildernessentire, " I replied emphatically. 

"But--a trapped wolf never howls, my younger brother; a lone wolf in apit is always silent. "

I flushed, realizing that my metaphor had been at fault. Yet now therewas to be nothing between this red ambassador and me except thesubtlest and finest shades of metaphor. 

"It is true that a trapped wolf never howls, " I said; "because a pittedwolf is as good as a dead wolf, and a dead wolf's tongue hangs outsideways. But it is not so when the pack is trapped. Then the prisonersmay call upon the Wilderness for aid, lest a whole people sufferextermination. "

"Will my younger brother take counsel with Oneidas?" he askedcuriously. 

"Surely as the rocks of Tryon point to the Dancers, naming the Oneidanation since the Great Peace began, so surely, my elder brother, shallOnehda talk to the three ensigns, brother to brother, clan to clan, lest we be utterly destroyed and the Oneida nation perish from theearth. "

"My younger brother will not come to Thendara?" he inquired withoutemotion. 

"Does a chief answer as squirrels answer one to another?--as crowreplies to crow?" I asked sternly. "Go teach the Canienga how to listenand how to wait!"

His glowing eyes, fastened on mine, were lowered to the symbol on mybreast, then his shaved head bent, and he folded his powerful arms. 

"Onehda has spoken, " he said respectfully. "Even a Delaware may claimhis day of grace. My ears are open, O my younger brother. "

"Then bear this message to the council: I accept the belt; my answershall be the answer of the Oneida nation; and with my reply shall gothree strings. Depart in peace, Bearer of Belts!"

Lightly, gracefully as a tree-lynx, he stooped and seized his rifle, wheeled, passed noiselessly across the road, turned, and buried himselfin the tufted bushes. For an instant the green tops swayed, then not aripple of the foliage, not a sound marked the swift course of the nakedbelt-bearer through the uncharted sea of trees. 

Mounting my roan, I wheeled him north at a slow walk, preoccupied, morose, sadly absorbed in this new order of things where an Oneida nowmust needs answer a Mohawk as an Iroquois should once have answered anErie or an Algonquin. Alas for the great League! alas for the mightydead! Hiawatha! Atotarho! Where were they? Where now was our ownOdasete; and Kanyadario, and the mighty wisdom of Dekanawidah? The endof the Red League was already in sight; the Great Peace was broken; thedownfall of the Confederacy was at hand. 

At that northern tryst at Thendara, the nine sachems allotted to theCanienga, the fourteen sachems of the Onondaga, the eight Senecas, theCayuga ten must look in vain for nine Oneidas. And without them theGreat Peace breaks like a rotten arrow where the war-head drops and thefeathers fall from the unbound nock. 

Strange, strange, that I, a white man of blood untainted, must answerfor this final tragic catastrophe! Without me, perhaps, the sachems ofthe three clans might submit to the will of the League, for even thesurly Onondagas had now heeded the League-Call--yes, even theTuscaroras, too. And as for those Delaware dogs, they had come, belly-dragging, cringing to the lash of the stricken Confederacy, though now was their one chance in a hundred years to disobey and defy. But the Lenape were ever women. 

Strange, strange, that I, a white man of unmixed blood, should stand inLeague-Council for the noblest clan of the Oneida nation!

That I had been adopted satisfied the hereditary law of chieftainship;that I had been selected satisfied the elective law of the sachems. Rank follows the female line; the son of a chief never succeeded torank. It is the matron--the chief woman of the family--who chooses adead chief's successor from the female line in descent; and thus Cloudon the Sun chose me, her adopted; and, dying, heard the loud, imperiouschallenge from the council-fire as the solemn rite ended with:

"_Now show me the man!_"

And so, knowing that the antlers were lifted and the quiver slungacross my thigh, she died contented, and I, a lad, stood a chief of theOneida nation. Never since time began, since the Caniengas adoptedHiawatha, had a white councilor been chosen who had been accepted byfamily, clan, and national council, and ratified by the federal senate, excepting only Sir William Johnson and myself. That Algonquin word"sachem, " so seldom used, so difficult of pronunciation by theIroquois, was never employed to designate a councilor in council; therethey used the title, Roy-a-neh, and to that title had I answered thebelt of the Iroquois, in the name of Kayanehenh-Kowa, the Great Peace. 

For what Magna Charta is to the Englishman, what the Constitution is tous, is the Great Peace to an Iroquois; and their gratitude, theirintense reverence and love for its founder, Hiawatha, is like nosentiment we have conceived even for the beloved name of Washington. 

Now that the Revolution had split the Great Peace, which is theIroquois League, the larger portion of the nation had followed Brant toCanada--all the Caniengas, the greater part of the Onondaga nation, allthe Cayugas, the one hundred and fifty of our own Oneidas. And thoughthe Senecas did not desert their western post as keepers of theshattered gate in a house divided against itself, they acted with theMohawks; the Onondagas had brought their wampum from Onondaga, and anew council-fire was kindled in Canada as rallying-place of a greatpeople in process of final disintegration. 

It was sad to me who loved them, who knew them first as firm allies ofNew York province, who understood them, their true character, theirhistory and tradition, their intimate social and family life. 

And though I stood with those whom they struck heavily, and who in turnstruck them hip and thigh, I bear witness before God that they were notby nature the fiends and demons our historians have painted, not byinstinct the violent and ferocious scourges that the painted Toriesmade of these children of the forest, who for five hundred years hadformed a confederacy whose sole object was peace. 

I speak not of the brutal and degraded _gens de prairie_--thehorse-riding savages of the West, whose primal instincts are to torturethe helpless and to violate women--a crime no Iroquois, no Huron, noAlgonquin, no Lenni-Lenape can be charged with. But I speak for the_gens de bois_--the forest Indians of the East, and of those whomaintained the Great League, which was but a powerful tribunal imposingpeace upon half a continent. 

Left alone to themselves, unharassed by men of my blood and color, theyare a kindly and affectionate people, full of sympathy for theirfriends in distress, considerate of their women, tender to theirchildren, generous to strangers, anxious for peace, and profoundlyreverent where their League or its founders were concerned. 

Centuries of warfare for self-preservation have made them efficient inthe arts of war. Ferocity, craft, and deception, practised on them byFrench, Dutch, and English, have taught them to reply in kind. Yetthese somber, engrafted qualities which we have recorded as theirdistinguishing traits, no more indicate their genuine character thanwar-paint and shaven head display the customary costume they appear inamong their own people. The cruelties of war are not peculiar to anyone people; and God knows that in all the Iroquois confederacy nosavage could be found to match the British Provost, Cunningham, orMajor Bromfield--no atrocities could obscure the atrocities in theprisons and prison-ships of New York, the deeds of the Butlers, ofCrysler, of Beacraft, and of Bettys. 

For, among the Iroquois, I can remember only two who were the peers incruelty of Walter Butler and the Tory Beacraft, and these were theIndian called Seth Henry, and the half-breed hag, Catrine Montour. 

Pondering on these things, perplexed and greatly depressed, I presentlyemerged from the forest-belt through which I had been riding, and foundour little column halted in the open country, within a few minutes'march of the Schenectady highway. 

The rangers looked up at me curiously as I passed, doubtless having aninkling of what had been going on from questioning the Oneida scouts, for Murphy broke out impulsively, "Sure, Captain, we was that onaisy, alanna, that Elerson an' me matched apple-pipps f'r to inthrojuce wananother to that powwow forninst the big pine. "

"Had you appeared yonder while I was talking to that belt-bearer itmight have gone hard with me, Tim, " I said gravely. 

Riding on past the spot where Jack Mount stood, his brief authorityended, I heard him grumbling about the rashness of officers and themarket value of a good scalp in Quebec; and I only said: "Scold as muchas you like, Jack, only obey. " And so cantered forward to where Elsinsat her black mare, watching my approach. Her steady eyes welcomed, mine responded; in silence we wheeled our horses north once more, riding stirrup to stirrup through the dust. On either side stretchedabandoned fields, growing up in weeds and thistles, for now we werealmost on the Mohawk River, the great highway of the border war downwhich the tides of destruction and death had rolled for four terribleyears. 

There was nothing to show for it save meadows abandoned to willowscrub, fallow fields deep in milk-weed, goldenrod, and asters; and hereand there a charred rail or two of some gate or fence long sincedestroyed. 

Far away across the sand-flats we could see a ruined barn outlinedagainst the sunset sky, but no house remained standing to the westwardfar as the eye could reach. However, as we entered the highway, which Iknew well, because now we were approaching a country familiar to me, I, leading, caught sight of a few Dutch roofs to the east, and presentlycame into plain view of the stockade and blockhouses of Schenectady, above which rose the lovely St. George's church and the heavy walls andfour demi-bastions of the citadel which is called the Queen's Fort. 

As we approached in full view of the ramparts there was a flash, a ballof white smoke; and no doubt a sentry had fired his musket, such wasevidently their present state of alarm, for I saw the Stars and Stripesrun up on the citadel, and, far away, I heard the conch-horn blowing, and the startled music of the light-infantry horns. Evidently the sightof our Oneidas, spread far forward in a semicircle, aroused distrust. Isent Murphy forward with a flag, then advanced very deliberately, recalling the Oneidas by whistle-signal. 

And, as we rode under the red rays of the westering sun, I pointed outSt. George's to Elsin and the Queen's Fort, and where were formerly thetown gates by which the French and Indians had entered on that dreadfulwinter night when they burned Schenectady, leaving but four or fivehouses, and the snowy streets all wet and crimsoned with the blood ofwomen and children. 

"But that was many, many years ago, sweetheart, " I added, already sorrythat I had spoken of such things. "It was in 1690 that Monsieur DeMantet and his Frenchmen and Praying Indians did this. "

"But people do such things now, Carus, " she said, serious eyes raisedto mine. 

"Oh, no----"

"They did at Wyoming, at Cherry Valley, at Minnisink. You told me so inNew York--before you ever dreamed that you and I would be heretogether. "

"Ah, Elsin, but things have changed now that Colonel Willett is in theValley. His Excellency has sent here the one man capable of holding thefrontier; and he will do it, dear, and there will be no more CherryValleys, no more Minnisinks, no more Wyomings now. "

"Why were they moving out of the houses in Albany, Carus?"

I did not reply. 

Presently up the road I saw Murphy wave his white flag; and, a momentlater, the Orange Gate, which was built like a drawbridge, fell with amuffled report, raising a cloud of dust. Over it, presently, ourhorses' feet drummed hollow as we spurred forward. 

"Pass, you Tryon County men!" shouted the sentinels; and the dustycolumn entered. We were in Schenectady at last. 

As we wheeled up the main street of the town, marching in close columnbetween double lines of anxious townsfolk, a staff-officer, wearing theuniform of the New York line, came clattering down the street from theQueen's Fort, and drew bridle in front of me with a sharp, precisesalute. 

"Captain Renault?" he asked. 

I nodded, returning his salute. 

"Colonel Gansvoort's compliments, and you are directed to report toColonel Willett at Butlersbury without losing an hour. "

"That means an all-night march, " I said bluntly. 

"Yes, sir. " He lowered his voice: "The enemy are on the Sacandaga. "

I stiffened in my stirrups. "Tell Colonel Gansvoort it shall be done, sir. " And I wheeled my horse, raising my rifle: "Attention!--to theleft--dress! Right about face! By sections of four--to theright--wheel--March! . .. Halt! Front--dress! Trail--arms! March!"

The veterans of Morgan, like trained troop-horses, had executed themaneuvers before they realized what was happening. They were the firstformal orders I had given. I myself did not know how the orders mightbe obeyed until all was over and we were marching out of the OrangeGate once more, and swinging northward, wagons, bat-horses, and men insplendid alignment, and the Oneidas trotting ahead like a pack offoxhounds under master and whip. But I had to do with irregulars; Iunderstood that. Already astonished and inquiring glances shot upwardat me as I rode with Elsin; already I heard a low whispering among themen. But I waited. Then, as we turned the hill, a cannon on the Queen'sFort boomed good-by and Godspeed!--and our conch-horn sounded a long, melancholy farewell. 

It was then that I halted the column, facing them, rifle resting acrossmy saddle-bow. 

"Men of New York, " I said, "the enemy are on the Sacandaga. "

Intense silence fell over the ranks. 

"If there be one rifleman here who is too weary to enter Johnstownbefore daylight, let him fall out. "

Not a man stirred. 

"Very well, " I said, laughing; "if you Tryon County men are so keen forbattle, there's a dish o' glory to be served up, hot as sugar andsoupaan, among the Mayfield hills. Come on, Men of New York!"

And I think they must have wondered there in Schenectady at the fiercecheering of Morgan's men as our column wheeled northwest once more, into the coming night. 

 * * * * *

We entered Johnstown an hour before dawn, not a man limping, nor ahorse either, for that matter. An officer from Colonel Willett met us, directing the men and the baggage to the fort which was formerly thestone jail, the Oneidas to huts erected on the old camping-ground westof Johnson Hall, and Elsin and me to quarters at Jimmy Burke's Tavern. She was already half-asleep in her saddle, yet ever ready to rouseherself for a new effort; and now she raised her drowsy head with aconfused smile as I lifted her from the horse to the porch of Burke'scelebrated frontier inn. 

"Colonel Willett's compliments, and he will breakfast with you at ten, "whispered the young officer. "Good night, sir. "

"Good night, " I nodded, and entered the tavern, bearing Elsin in myarms, now fast asleep as a worn-out child. 

CHAPTER XI

THE TEST

I was awakened by somebody shaking me. Bewildered, not recognizing mylandlord, but confusing him with the sinister visions that had hauntedmy sleep, I grappled with him until, senses returning, I found myselfsitting bolt upright in a shaky trundle-bed, clutching Jimmy Burke bythe collar. 

"Lave go me shirrt, sorr, " he pleaded--"f'r the saints' sake, MistherRenault! I've the wan shirrt to me back----"

"Confound you, Jimmy!" I yawned, dropping back on my pillow; "what doyou mean by choking me?"

"Chocken', is it, sorr!" exclaimed the indignant Irishman; "'tis meshcalp ye're afther liftin' wid a whoop an' a yell, glory be! I'llthrouble ye, Captain Renault, f'r to projooce me wig, sorr!"

Clutched in my left hand I discovered the unfortunate landlord's wig, and I lay there amused and astonished while he haughtily adjusted itbefore the tiny triangle of glass nailed on the wall. 

"Shame on you, Jimmy Burke, to wear a wig to cheat some honest Mohawkout of his eight dollars!" I yawned, rubbing my eyes. 

"Mohawks, is it? Now, God be good to the haythen whin James Burrketakes the Currietown thrail----"

"You're exempt, you fat rascal!" I said, laughing; and the dumpy littleIrishman gave me a sly grin as he retied his stock and stood smoothingdown his rumpled wig before the glass. 

"Och! divil a hair has he left on the wig o' me!" he grumbled. "Will yeget up, sorr? 'Tis ten o'clock, lackin' some contrairy minutes, an' theofficers from the foort do be ragin' f'r lack o' soupaan----"

"Are they here?" I cried, leaping out of bed. "Why didn't you say so?Where's my tub of water? Don't stand there grinning, I tell you. Say toColonel Willett I'll join him in a second. "

The fat little landlord retreated crab-wise. I soused my clipped headin the tub, took a spatter-bath like a wild duck in a hurry, clothed mein my gay forest-dress, making no noise lest I wake Elsin, and ran downthe rough wooden stairs to the coffee-room, plump into a crowd ofstrange officers, all blue and buff and gilt. 

"Well, Carus!" came a cool, drawling voice from the company; and I sawthe tall, gaunt figure of Colonel Marinus Willett sauntering toward me, his hawk's nose wrinkled into a whimsical smile. 

"Colonel, " I stammered, saluting, then sprang forward and grasped theveteran's outstretched hand, asking his pardon for my tardiness. 

"What a great big boy!" he commented, holding my hand in both of his, and inspecting me from crown to heel. "Is this the lad I've heardof--below--" His nose wrinkled again, and his grimly humorous mouthtwitched. "Carus, you've grown since I last saw you at the patroon's, romping a reel with those rosy Dutch lassies from Vrooman's--eh? That'swell, my son; the best dancers were ever the best fighters! Look at TimMurphy! As for me, I never could learn to dance with you Valleyaristocrats. Carus, you should know my officers. " And he mentionednames with a kindly, informal precision characteristic of a gentlemantoo great to follow conventions, too highly bred to ignore them. Theconsequent compromise was, as I say, a delightfully formal informalitywhich reigned among his entourage, but never included himself, althoughhe apparently invited it. In this, I imagine, he resembled hisExcellency, and have heard others say so; but I do not know, for Inever saw his Excellency. 

"Now, gentlemen, " said Colonel Willett casually, as he seated himselfat the head of the table. And we sat down at the signal, I next to theColonel at his nod of invitation. 

The fat little landlord, Burke, notorious for the speed with which hefled from Sir John Johnson when that warrior-baronet raided Johnstown, came bustling into the coffee-room like a fresh breeze from the Irishcoast, asking our pleasure in a brogue thick enough to season thebubbling, steaming bowl of hasty-pudding he set before us a momentlater. 

"Jimmy, " said an officer, glancing up at him where he stood, thick legsapart, hands clasped behind him, and jolly head laid on one side, "isthere any news of Sir John Johnson in these parts?"

"Faith, " said Burke, with a toss of his head, "'tis little I bothermeself along wid the likes o' Sir John. Lave him poke his nose into theSacandagy an' dhrown there, bad cess to him! We've a thrick to matchhis, an' wan f'r the pig!"

"I'm glad to know that, Jimmy, " said another officer earnestly. "And ifthat's the case. Captain Renault's Rangers might as well pack up andmove back to Albany. "

"Sure, Captain dear, " he said, turning to me, "'tis not f'r the likeso' Jimmy Burke to say it, but there do be a fri'nd o' mine in theRangers, a blatherin', blarneyin', bog-runnin' lad they call TimMurphy. 'Tis f'r his sake I'd be glad to see the Rangers here--an'ye'll not misjudge me, sorr, that Jimmy Burke is afeared o' Sir Johnan' his red whippets!"

"Oh, no, " I said gravely; "I'm quite ready to leave Johnstown to yourprotection, Jimmy, and march my men back to-night--with ColonelWillett's permission----"

"Sorra the day! Och, listen to him, Colonel dear!" exclaimed thelandlord, with an appealing glance at Willett. "Wud ye lave us now, width' ould women an' childer huddled like catthle in the foort, an'Walther Butler at Niagary an' Sir John on the Sacandagy! Sure, 'tisfoolin' ye arre, Captain dear--wid the foine ale I have below, an'divil a customer--the town's that crazy wid fear o' Sir John! 'Tis notf'r meself I shpake, sorr, " he added airily, "but 'tis the jooty o' themilitary f'r to projooce thraffic an' thrade an' the blessing ofprosperity at the p'int o' the bagnet, sorr. "

"In that case, " observed Willett, "you ought to stay, Carus. Burkecan't attend to his tavern and take time to chase Sir John back to thelakes. "

"Thrue f'r ye, sorr!" exclaimed Burke, with a twinkle in his gray eye. "Where wud th' b'ys find a dhram, sorr, wid Jimmy Burke on a scout, sorr, thrimmin' the Tories o' Mayfield, an' runnin' the Scotch loonsout o' Perth an' the Galways, glory be!"

He bustled out to fetch us a dish of pink clingstone peaches, grown inthe gardens planted by the great Sir William. Truly, Sir John had lostmuch when he lost Johnson Hall; and now, like a restless ghost drawnback to familiar places, he haunted the spot that his great father hadmade to bloom like a rose in the wilderness. He was out there now, inthe sunshine and morning haze, somewhere, beyond the blue autumn mistin the north--out there, disgraced, disinherited, shelterless, sullenlybrooding, and plotting murder with his motley mob of Cayugas andpainted renegades. 

Colonel Willett rose and we all stood up, but he signaled those who hadnot finished eating to resume their places, and laying a familiar handon my arm led me to the sunny bench outside the door where, at his nod, I seated myself beside him. He drew a map from his breast-pocket andstudied in silence; I waited his pleasure. 

The veteran seemed to have grown no older since I had last seen himfour years since--indeed, he had changed little as I remembered himfirst, sipping his toddy at my father's house, and smiling his shrewd, kindly, whimsical smile while I teased him to tell me of the Frenchwar, and how he had captured Frontenac. 

I was but seventeen years old when he headed that revolt in New YorkCity, and, single-handed, halted the British troops on Broad Street andtook away their baggage. I was nineteen when he led the sortie fromStanwix. I had already taken my post in New York when he was servingwith his Excellency in the Jerseys and with Sullivan in the west. 

Of all the officers who served on the frontier, Marinus Willett was theonly man who had ever held the enemy at check. Even Sullivan, returningfrom his annihilation of Indian civilization, was followed by a cloudof maddened savages and renegades that settled in his tracks, enveloping the very frontier which, by his famous campaign, he hadproperly expected to leave unharassed. 

And now Marinus Willett was in command, with meager resources, indeed, yet his personal presence on the Tryon frontier restored something ofconfidence to those who still clung to the devastated region, sowing, growing, garnering, and grinding the grain that the half-starved armyof the United States required to keep life within the gaunt rank andfile. West Point, Albany, Saratoga called for bread; and the men ofTryon plowed and sowed and reaped, leaving their dead in everyfurrow--swung their scythes under the Iroquois bullets, cut theirblood-wet hay in the face of ambush after ambush, stacked theirscorched corn and defended it from barn, shack, and window. With torchand hatchet renegade and Iroquois decimated them; their houses kindledinto flame; their women and children, scalped and throats cut, werehung over fences like dead game; twelve thousand farms lay tenantless;by thousands the widows and orphans gathered at the blockhouses, naked, bewildered, penniless. There remained in all Tryon County but eighthundred militia capable of responding to a summons--eight hundreddesperate men to leave scythe and flail and grist-mill for their riflesat the dread call to arms. Two dozen or more blockhouses, holding fromten to half a hundred families each, were strung out between StanwixFort and Schenectady; these, except for a few forts, formed the outerline of the United States' bulwarks in the north; and this line Willettwas here to hold with the scattered handful of farmers and Rangers. 

Yet, with these handfuls, before our arrival he had already cleaned outTorlock; he had already charged through the flames of Currietown, androuted the renegades at Sharon--leading the charge, cocked-hat in hand, remarking to his Rangers that he could catch in his hat all the ballsthat the renegades could fire. Bob McKean, the scout, fell that day;nine men, bound to saplings, were found scalped; yet the handful underWillett turned on Torlock and seized a hundred head of cattle for thefamishing garrison of Herkimer. Wawarsing, Cobleskill, and Little Fallswere ablaze; Willett's trail lay through their smoking cinders, hishatchets hung in the renegades' rear, his bullets drove the raidersheadlong from Tekakwitha Spring to the Kennyetto, and his Oneidas clungto the edges of invasion, watching, waiting, listening in the stillplaces for the first faint sound of that advance that meant the finaldeath-grapple. It was coming, surely coming: Sir John already harryingthe Sacandaga; Haldimand reported on the eastern lakes; Ross and theButlers expected from Niagara, and nothing now to prevent Clinton fromadvancing up the Hudson from New York, skirting West Point, and givingthe entire north to the torch. This was what confronted Tryon County;but the army needed grain, and we were there to glean what we mightbetween fitful storms, watching that solid, thunderous tempestdarkening the north from east to west, far as the eye could see. 

Colonel Willett had lighted his clay pipe, and now, map spread acrosshis knees and mine, he leaned over, arms folded, smoking, and examiningthe discolored and wrinkled paper. 

"Where is Adriutha, Carus?" he drawled. 

I pointed out the watercourse, traced in blue, showing him the ancientsite and the falls near by. 

"And Carenay?"

Again I pointed. 

"Oswaya?"

"Only tradition remains of that lost village, " I said. "Even in theGreat Rite those who pronounce the name know nothing more than that itonce existed. It is so with Kayaderos and Danascara; nobody now knowsexactly where they were. "

"And Thendara?"

"Thendara _was_, and _will be_, but is not. In the Great Rite of theIroquois that place where the first ceremony, which is called 'At thewood's edge, ' begins is called Thendara, to commemorate the ancientplace where first the Holder of Heaven talked face to face with theLeague's founder, Hiawatha. "

The hawk-faced veteran smoked and studied the map for a while; then heremoved the pipe from his mouth, and, in silence, traced with thesmoking stem a path. I watched him; he went back to the beginning andtraced the path again and yet again, never uttering a word; andpresently I began to comprehend him. 

"Yes, sir, " I said; "thus will the Long House strike the Oneidas--whenthey strike. "

"I have sent belts--as you suggested, " observed Willett carelessly. 

I was delighted, but made no comment; and presently he went on in hisdrawling, easy manner: "I can account for Sir John, and I can hold himon the Sacandaga; I can account for Haldimand only through thecowardice or treachery of Vermont; but I can hold him, too, if he everdares to leave the lakes. For Sir Henry Clinton I do not care a damn;like a headless chicken he tumbles about New York, seeing, hearingnothing, and no mouth left to squawk with. His head is off; one of hislegs still kicks at Connecticut, t'other paddles aimlessly in theAtlantic Ocean. But he's done for, Carus. Let his own blood cleanse himfor the plucking!"

The gaunt Colonel replaced his pipe between his teeth and gazedmeditatively into the north:

"But where's Walter Butler?" he mused. 

"Is he not at Niagara, sir?" I asked. 

Willett folded his map and shoved it into his breast-pocket. "That, " hesaid, "is what I want you to find out for me, Carus. "

He wheeled around, facing me, his kindly face very serious:

"I have relieved you of your command, Carus, and have attached you tomy personal staff. There are officers a-plenty to take your Rangerswhere I send them; but I know of only one man in Tryon County who cando what is to be done at Thendara. Send on your belt to Sachems of theLong House. Carus, you are a spy once more. "

I had not expected it, now that the Oneidas had been warned. Chilled, sickened at the thought of playing my loathsome rôle once more, bitterdisappointment left me speechless. I hung my head, feeling his keeneyes upon me; I braced myself sullenly against the overwhelming rush ofrepulsion surging up within me. My every nerve, every fiber quiveredfor freedom to strike that blow denied me for four miserable years. HadI not earned the right to face my enemies in the open? Had I not earnedthe right to strike? Had I not waited--God! had I not waited?

Appalled, almost unmanned, I bowed my head still lower as the quicktears of rage wet my lashes. They dried, unshed. 

"Is there no chance for me?" I asked--"no chance for one honest blow?"

His kind eyes alone answered; and, like a school-boy, I sat thererubbing my face, teeth clenched, to choke back the rebellious cryswelling my hot throat. 

"Give me an Oneida, then, " I muttered. "I'll go. "

"You are a good lad, Carus, " he said gently. "I know how you feel. "

I could not answer. 

"You know, " he said, "how many are called, how few chosen. You knowthat in these times a man must sink self and stand ready for anysacrifice, even the supreme and best. "

He laid his hand on my shoulder: "Carus, I felt as you do now when hisExcellency asked me to leave the line and the five splendid New Yorkregiments just consolidated and given me to lead. But I obeyed; I gaveup legitimate ambition; I renounced hope of that advancement allofficers rightly desire; I left my New York regiments to come here totake command of a few farmers and forest-runners. God and hisExcellency know best!"

I nodded, unable to speak. 

"There is glory and preferment to be had in Virginia, " he said; "thereare stars to be won at Yorktown, Carus. But those stars will neverglitter on this faded uniform of mine. So be it. Let us do our best, lad. It's all one in the end. "

I nodded. 

"And so, " he continued pleasantly, "I send you to Thendara. None knowsyou for a partizan in this war. For four years you have been lost tosight; and if any Iroquois has heard of your living in New York, hemust believe you to be a King's man. Your one danger is in answeringthe Iroquois summons as an ensign of a nation marked for punishment. How great that danger may be, you can judge better than I. "

I thought for a while. The Canienga who had summoned me by belt couldnot prove I was a partizan of the riflemen who escorted me. I mighthave been absolutely non-partizan, traveling under escort of eitherside that promised protection from those ghostly rovers who scalpedfirst and asked questions afterward. 

The danger I ran as clan-ensign of a nation marked for punishment wasan unknown quantity to me. From the Canienga belt-bearer I had gatheredthat there was no sanctuary for an Oneida envoy at Thendara; but whatprotection an ensign of the Wolf Clan might expect, I could not becertain of. 

But there was one more danger. Suppose Walter Butler should appear tosit in council as ensign of his mongrel clan?

"Colonel, " I said, "there is one thing to be done, and, as there isnobody else to accomplish this dog's work, I must perform it. I amtrying not to be selfish--not to envy those whose lines are fallen inpleasant places--not to regret the happiness of battle which I havenever known--not to desire those chances for advancement and for glorythat--that all young men--crave----"

My voice broke, but I steadied it instantly. 

"I had hoped one day to do a service which his Excellency could openlyacknowledge--a service which might, one day, permit him to receive me. I have never seen him. I think, now, I never shall. But, as you say, sir, ambitions like these are selfish, therefore they are petty andunworthy. He does know best. "

The Colonel nodded gravely, watching me, his unlighted pipe drooping inhis hand. 

"There is one thing--before I go, " I said. "My betrothed wife is withme. May I leave her in your care, sir?"

"Yes, Carus. "

"She is asleep in that room above--" I looked up at the closedshutters, scarcely seeing them for the blinding rush of tears; yetstared steadily till my eyes were dry and hot again, and my choked andtense throat relaxed. 

"I think, " said the Colonel, "that she is safer in Johnstown Fort thananywhere else just now. I promise you, Carus, to guard and cherish heras though she were my own child. I may be called away--you understandthat!--but I mean to hold Johnstown Fort, and shall never be too farfrom Johnstown to relieve it in event of siege. What can be done I willdo on my honor as a soldier. Are you content?"

"Yes. "

He lowered his voice: "Is it best to see her before you start?"

I shook my head. 

"Then pick your Oneida, " he muttered. "Which one?"

"Little Otter. Send for him. "

The Colonel leaned back on the bench and tapped at the outside of thetavern window. An aide came clanking out, and presently hurried awaywith a message to Little Otter to meet me at Butlersbury within thehour, carrying parched corn and salt for three days' rations. 

For a while we sat there, going over personal matters. Our sea-chestswere to be taken to the fort; my financial affairs I explained, tellinghim where he might find my papers in case of accident to me. Then Iturned over to him my watch, what money I had of Elsin's, and my own. 

"If I do not return, " I said, "and if this frontier can not hold out, send Miss Grey with a flag to New York. Sir Peter Coleville is kin toher; and when he understands what danger menaces her he will defend herto the last ditch o' the law. Do you understand, Colonel?"

"No, Carus, but I can obey. "

"Then remember this: She must never be at the mercy of Walter Butler. "

"Oh, I can remember that, " he said drily. 

For a few moments I sat brooding, head between my hands; then, of asudden impulse, I swung around and laid my heart bare to him--told himeverything in a breath--trembling, as a thousand new-born fears seizedme, chilling my blood. 

"Good God!" I stammered, "it is not for myself I care now, Colonel! Butthe thought of him--of her--together--I can not endure. I tell you, thedread of this man has entered my very soul; there is terror at a hintof him. Can I not stay, Colonel? Is there no way for me to stay? She isso young, so alone----"

Hope died as I met his eye. I set my teeth and crushed speech intosilence. 

"The welfare of a nation comes first, " he said slowly. 

"I know--I know--but----"

"All must sacrifice to that principle, Carus. Have not the men of NewYork stood for it? Have not the men of Tryon given their all? I tellyou, the army shall eat, but the bread they munch is made fromblood-wet grain; and for every loaf they bake a life has been offered. Where is the New Yorker who has not faced what you are facing? At thecrack of the ambushed rifle our people drop at the plow, and theirdying eyes look upon wife and children falling under knife and hatchet. It must be so if the army is to eat and liberty live in this country wedare call our own. And when the call sounds, we New Yorkers must go, Carus. Our women know it, even our toddling children know it, God blessthem!--and they proudly take their chances--nay, they demand thechances of a war that spares neither the aged nor the weak, neithermother nor cradled babe, nor the hound at the door, nor the cattle, norany living thing in this red fury of destruction!"

He had risen, eyes glittering, face hardened into stone. "Go to yourbetrothed and say good-by. You do not know her yet, I think. "

"She is Canadienne, " I said. 

"She is what the man she loves is--if she honors him. His cause ishers, his country hers, his God is her God!"

"Her heart is with neither side----"

"Her heart is with you! Shame to doubt her--if I read her eyes! Readthem, Carus!"

I wheeled, speechless; Elsin Grey stood before me, deadly pale. 

After a moment she moved forward, laying her hand on my shoulder andfacing Colonel Willett with a smile. All color had fled from her face, but neither lip nor voice quivered as she spoke:

"I think you do understand, sir. We Canadiennes yield nothing indevotion to the women of New York. Where we love, we honor. Whatmatters it where the alarm sounds? We understand our lovers; we cangive them to the cause of freedom as well here in Tryon County as onthe plains of Abraham--can we not, my betrothed?" she said, lookinginto my face; but her smile was heart-breaking. 

"Child, child, " said Willett, taking her free hand in both of his, "youspeak a silent language with your eyes that no man can fail tounderstand. "

"I failed, " I said bitterly, as Willett kissed her hand, placed it inmine, and, turning, entered the open door. 

"And what blame, Carus?" she whispered. "What have I been to you but asymbol of unbridled selfishness, asking all, giving nothing? How couldyou know I loved you so dearly that I could stand aside to let youpass? First I loved you selfishly, shamelessly; then I begged yourguilty love, offering mine in the passion of my ignorance andbewilderment. "

Her arm fell from my shoulder and nestled in mine, and we turned awaytogether under the brilliant autumn glory of the trees. 

"That storm that tore me--ah, Carus--I had been wrecked without yourstrong arm to bear me up!"

"It was you who bore me up, Elsin. How can I leave you now!"

"Why, Carus, our honor is involved. "

"_Our_ honor!"

"Yes, dear, ours. "

"You--you bid me go, Elsin?"

"If I bid you stay, what would avail except to prove me faithless toyou? How could I truly love you and counsel dishonor?"

White as a flower, the fixed smile never left her lips, nor did hersteady pace beside me falter, or knee tremble, or a finger quiver ofthe little hand that lay within my own. 

And then we fell silent, walking to and fro under the paintedmaple-trees in Johnstown streets, seeing no one, heeding no one, untilthe bell at the fort struck the hour. It meant the end. 

We kissed each other once. I could not speak. My horse, led by JackMount, appeared from the tavern stables; and we walked back to the inntogether. 

Once more I took her in my arms; then she gently drew away and enteredthe open door, hands outstretched as though blinded, feeling herway--that was the last I saw of her, feeling her dark way alone intothe house. 

Senses swimming, dumb, deafened by the raging, beating pulses hammeringin my brain, I reeled at a gallop into the sunny street, north, thenwest, then north once more, tearing out into the Butlersbury road. Agate halted me; I dismounted and dragged it open, then to horse again, then another gate, then on again, hailed and halted by riflemen at thecross-roads, which necessitated the summoning of my wits at last beforethey would let me go. 

Now riding through the grassy cart-road, my shoulders swept by thefringing willows, I came at length to the Danascara, shining in thesunlight, and followed its banks--the same banks from which so often inhappier days I had fished. At times I traveled the Tribes Hill road, attimes used shorter cuts, knowing every forest-trail as I did, andpresently entered the wood-road that leads from Caughnawaga church toJohnstown. I was in Butlersbury; there was the slope, there the TribesHill trail, there the stony road leading to that accursed house fromwhich the Butlers, father and son, some five years since, had goneforth to eternal infamy. 

And now, set in a circle of cleared land and ringed by the ancientforests of the north, I saw the gray, weather-beaten walls of thehouse. The lawns were overgrown; the great well-sweep shattered; thelocust-trees covered with grapevines--the cherry- and apple-trees tothe south broken and neglected. Weeds smothered the flower-gardens, where here and there a dull-red poppy peered at me through witheringtangles; lilac and locust had already shed foliage too early blighted, but the huge and forbidding maples were all aflame in their blood-redautumn robes. Here the year had already begun to die; in the clear aira faint whiff of decay came from the rotting heaps of leaves--decay, ruin, and the taint of death; and, in the sad autumn stillness, something ominous, something secret and sly--something of malice. 

Seeing no sign of my Oneida, I walked my horse across the lawn and upto the desolate row of windows. The shutters had been ripped off theirhinges; all within was bare and dark; dimly I made out the shadowywalls of a hallway which divided the house into halves. By the lightwhich filtered through the soiled windows I examined room after roomfrom the outside, then, noiselessly, tried the door, but found itbolted from within as well as locked from without. Either the Butlersor the commissioners of sequestration must have crawled through awindow to do this. I prowled on, looking for the window they had usedas exit, examining the old house with a fascinated repugnance. Theclapboards were a foot wide, evidently fashioned with care and beadedon the edges. The outside doors all opened outward; and I noted, with ashudder of contempt, the "witch's half-moon, " or lunette, in the bottomof each door, which betrays the cowardly superstition of the man wholived there. Such cat-holes are fashioned for haunted houses; thespecter is believed to crawl out through these openings, and then to bekept out with a tarred rag stuffed into the hole--ghosts being unableto endure tar. Faugh! If specters walk, the accursed house must bealive with them--ghosts of the victims of old John Butler, wraithsdripping red from Cherry Valley--children with throats cut; women withbleeding heads and butchered bodies, stabbed through and through--andperhaps the awful specter of Lieutenant Boyd, with eyes and nailsplucked out, and tongue cut off, bound to the stake and slowly roastingto death, while Walter Butler watched the agony curiously, interestedand surprised to see a disemboweled man live so long!

Oh, yes, there might well be phantoms in this ghastly mansion; but theyhad nothing to do with me; only the absent master of the house was anyconcern of mine; and, finding at last the window I sought for, I shovedit open and climbed to the sill, landing upon the floor inside, mymoccasined feet making no more sound than the padded toes of atree-cat. 

Then to prowl and mouse, stepping cautiously, stooping warily toexamine dusty scraps lying on the bare boards--a dirty newspaper, anold shoe with buckle missing, a broken pewter spoon--all the sordidtrifles that accent desolation. Once or twice I thought to make outmoccasin tracks in the dust, as though some furtive prowler hadanticipated me here, but the light filtering through the crusted paneswas meager and uncertain, and, after all, it mattered nothing to me. 

The house was divided by a hallway; there were two rooms on eitherside, all bare and empty save for scraps here and there, and in oneroom the collapsed and dusty carcass of a rat. On the walls there wasnothing except a nail driven into the clay, which was crumbling betweenthe facing of whitewashed brick. From the heavy oaken timbers of thewooden ceilings hung smutty banners of ancient cobwebs, stirring aboveme as I moved. It was the very abomination of sinister desolation. 

Some vague idea of finding something that might aid me--some scrap ofevidence I might chance on to kindle hope with--some neglected trifleto damn him and proclaim this monstrous marriage void--it was thisinstinct that led me into a house abhorred. Nothing I found, save, onone foul window-pane, names, diamond-cut, scrawled again and again:"Lyn, " and "Cherry-Maid, " repeated a score of times. 

And long I lingered, pondering who had written it, and what it mightmean, and who was "Lyn. " As for "Cherry-Maid, " the name was used in theFalse Faces rites; and at that terrific orgy held on the Kennyettobefore the battle of Oriskany, where the first split came in the wallsof the Long House, and where that hag-sorceress, Catrine Montour, hadfailed to pledge the Oneidas to the war-post, the Cherry-Maid had takenpart. Indeed, some said that she was a daughter of the Huron witch; butJack Mount, who saw the rite, swore that the Cherry-Maid was but abeautiful child, painted from brow to ankle----

Suddenly I thought of the hag's daughter as Carolyn. Carolyn? Lyn! Byheaven, the Cherry-Maid was Carolyn Montour, mistress of Walter Butler!Here in bygone days she had scrawled her name--here her title. AndWalter Butler had been present at that frantic debauch where the FalseFaces cringed to their prophetess, Magdalen Brant. Perhaps it was therethat this man had met his match in the lithe young animal whelped bythe Toad-Woman--this slim, lawless, depraved child, who had led theFalse Faces in their gruesome rites and sacrifice!

I stared at the diamond scrawl; and before my eyes I seemed to see thethree fires burning, the clattering rows of wooden masks, the whiteblankets of the sachems, the tawny, naked form of the Cherry-Maid, seated between samphire and hazel, her pointed fingers on her hips, herheavy hair veiling a laughing face, over which the infernal fire shadowplayed. 

Ah, it was well! Beast linked to beast--what need of priest in thefierce mating of such creatures of the dusk? He was hers, and she hisby all laws of nature, and in the eternal fitness of things vast andsavage. They must live and breed in the half-light of forests; theymust perish as the sun follows the falling trees, creeping everinexorably westward. 

Somberly brooding, I turned and descended into the cellar. There waslittle light here, and I cared not to strike flint. Groping about Itouched with my foot remains of bottles of earthenware, then made myway to the door again and began to ascend. 

The stairway seemed steeper and more tortuous to me. As I climbed Ibecame uneasy at its length. Then, in a second, it flashed on me that Ihad blundered upon a secret stairway[1] leading upward from the cellar. At this same instant my head brushed the ceiling; I gave a gentle push, and a trap-door lifted, admitting me to another flight of stairs, upwhich I warily felt my way. This must end in another trap-door on thesecond floor--I understood that--and began to reach upward, feelingabout blindly until my hands fell on a bolt. This I drew; it was notrusty, and did not creak, and, as I slid it back, to my astonishment myfingers grew wet and greasy. The bolt had been _recently oiled_!

 [1] Evidences of this stairway still exist in the ancient house of Walter Butler. 

Now all alert as a gray wolf sniffing a strange trail that cuts hisown, I warily lifted the trap to a finger's breadth. The crack of lightdazzled me; gradually my blurred sight grew clearer; I saw a low, oblong window under the eaves of the steep, pointed roof; and, throughit, the sunlight falling on the bare floor of a room all littered withpapers, torn letters, and tape-bound documents of every description. Could these be the Butler papers? I had heard that all documents hadbeen seized by the commissioners after the father and son had fled. Butthe honorable commissioners of sequestration had evidently neversuspected this stairway. 

In spite of myself I started! _How_ had I, then, entered it? Somebodymust have mounted it before me, leaving the secret door open in thecellar, and I, groping about, had chanced upon it. But whoever left itopen must have been acquainted with the house--an intimate here, if notone of the family!

When had this unknown entered? Was any one here _now_? At the thought myskin roughened as a dog bristles. Was I alone in this house?

Listening, motionless, nostrils dilated, every sense concentrated onthat narrow crack of light, I crouched there. Then, very gradually, Iraised the trap, higher, higher, laying it back against the upright ofwhite oak. 

I was in a tiny room--a closet, lighted by a slit of a window. Everywhere around me in the dust were small moccasin prints, pointing inevery direction. I could see no door in the wooden walls of the closet, but I stepped out of the stair-well and leaned over, examining themoccasin tracks, tracing them, until I found a spot where they ledstraight up to the wall; and there were no returning tracks to be seen. A chill crept over me; only a specter could pass through a solid wall. The next moment I had bent, ear flattened to the wooden wainscot. _Therewas something moving in the next room!_

CHAPTER XII

THENDARA

Motionless, intent, holding my breath, I listened at the paneled wall. Through the wainscot I could hear the low rustling of paper; and Iseemed to sense some heavier movement within, though the solid floordid not creak, nor a window quiver, nor a footfall sound. 

And now my eyes began traveling cautiously over the paneled wall, against which I had laid my ear. No crack or seam indicated a hiddendoor, yet I knew there must be one, and gently pressed the wainscotwith my shoulder. It gave, almost imperceptibly; I pressed again, andthe hidden door opened a hair's breadth, a finger's breadth, an inch, widening, widening noiselessly; and I bent forward and peered intoanother closet like the one I stood in, also lighted by a loop forrifle-fire. As my head advanced, first a corner of the floor litteredwith papers came into my range of vision, then an angle of the wall, then a shadowy something which I could not at first make out--and Iopened the door a little wider--scarcely an inch--holding it there. 

The shadowy something moved; it was a human foot; and the next instantmy eyes fell on a figure, partly in shade, partly in the light from theloophole--an Indian, kneeling, absorbed in deciphering a document heldflat on the bare floor. 

Astounded, almost incredulous, I glared at the vision. Gradually theshock of the surprise subsided; details took shape under my wonderingeyes--the slim legs, doubled under, clothed with fringed and beadedleggings to the hips, the gorgeously embroidered sporran, moccasins, andclout, the smooth, naked back, gleaming like palest amber under curtainsof stiffly strung scarlet-and-gold traders' wampum--traders' wampum?What did _that_ mean? And what did those heavy, double masses of hairindicate--those soft, twisted ropes of glossy hair, braided half-waywith crimson silk shot with silver, then hanging a cloudy shock of blackto the belted waist?

Here was no Iroquois youth--no adolescent of the Long House attired forany rite I ever heard of. The hip-leggings were of magnificent Algonquinwork; the quill-set, sinew-embroidered moccasins, too. That stringy, iridescent veil of rose, scarlet, and gold wampum on the naked body was_de fantasie_; the belt and knife-sheath pure Huron. As for thegipsy-like arrangement of the hair, no Iroquois boy ever wore it thatway; it hinted of the _gens de prairie_. What on earth did it mean?There was no paint on limb or body to guide me. Never had I seen such abeing so dressed for any rite or any practise in North America! Oh, ifLittle Otter were only here! I stole a glance out of the loop, but sawnothing save the pale sunshine on the weeds. If the Oneida had arrived, he had surely already found my horse tied in the lilac thicket, andsurely he would follow me where the weeds showed him I had passed. Hemight wait for a while; but if I emerged not from the house I knew hewould be after me, smelling along like a wolfhound until he had trackedme to a standstill. Should I wait for him? I looked at the kneelingfigure. So absorbed was the strange young Indian in the document on thefloor that I strained my eyes to make out its script, but could notdecipher even the corner of the paper exposed to my view. Then itoccurred to me that it was a strange thing for an Indian to read. Scarceone among the Iroquois, save Brant and the few who had been to Dr. Wheelock's school, knew A from Zed, or could more than scrawl theirclan-mark to a birchen letter. 

Suspicious lest, after all, I had to do with a blue-eyed Indian orpainted Tory, I examined the unconscious reader thoroughly. And, aftera little while, a strange apprehension settled into absolute convictionas I looked. So certain was I that every gathered muscle relaxed; Idrew a deep, noiseless breath of relief, smiling to myself, and steppedcoolly forward, letting the secret door swing to behind me with adeadened thud. 

Like a startled tree-cat the figure sprang to its feet, whirling toconfront me. And I laughed again, for I was looking into the dark, dilated eyes of a young girl. 

"Have no fear, " I began quietly; and the next instant the words weredriven into my throat, for she was on me in one bound, hunting-knifeglittering. 

Round the walls we reeled, staggering, wrestling, clinched likeinfuriated wolverines. I had her wrist in my grip, squeezing it, andthe bright, sparkling knife soon clattered to the boards, but shesuddenly set her crooked knee inside mine and tripped me headlong, hurling us both sideways to the floor, where we rolled, desperatelylocked, she twisting and reaching for the knife again and again, untilI kicked it behind me and staggered to my feet, dragging her with me inall her fury. But her maddened strength, her sinuous twisting, hercourage, so astonished me that again and again she sent me reelingalmost to my knees, taxing my agility and my every muscle to keep herfrom tripping me flat and recovering her knife. At length she began tosway; her dark, defiant eyes narrowed to two flaming slits; herdistorted mouth weakened into sullen lines, through which I caught theflash of locked teeth crushing back the broken, panting breath. I heldher like a vise; she could no longer move. And when at last she knewit, her rigid features, convulsed with rage, relaxed into a blank, smooth mask of living amber. 

For a moment I held her, feeling her whole body falling loose-limbedand limp--held her until her sobbing breath grew quieter and moreregular. Then I released her; she reeled, steadying herself against thewall with one hand; and, stepping back, I sank one knee, and whippedthe knife from the floor. 

That she now looked for death at my hands was perfectly evident, Ibeing dressed as a forest-runner who knows no sex when murder is afoot. I saw the flushed face pale slightly; the lip curl contemptuously. Proudly she lifted her head, haughtily faced me. 

"Dog of bastard nation!" she panted; "look me between the eyes andstrike!"

"Little sister, " I answered gravely, using the soft Oneida idiom, "letthere be peace between us. "

A flash of wonder lit her dark eyes. And I said again, smiling: "OHeart-divided-into-two-hearts, te-ha-eho-eh, you are like him whom wename, after 'The Two Voices'--we of the Wolf. Therefore is there peaceand love 'twixt thee and me. "

The wonder in her eyes deepened; her whole body quivered. 

"Who are you with a white skin who speak like a crested sachem?" shefaltered. 

"Tat-sheh-teh, little sister. I bear the quiver, but my war-arrows arebroken. "

"Oneida!" she exclaimed softly, clasping her hands between her breasts. 

I stepped closer, holding out my arms; slowly she laid her hands inmine, looking fearlessly up into my face. I turned her palms upward andplaced the naked knife across them; she bent her head, thenstraightened up, looking me full in the eyes. 

Still smiling, I laid both my hands on the collar of my hunting-shirt, baring throat and chest; and, as the full significance of the tinytattoo dawned upon her, she shivered. 

"Tharon!" she stammered. "Thou! What have I done!" And, shuddering, cast the knife at my feet as though it had been the snake that rattles. 

"Little sister----"

"Oh, no! no! What have I done! What have I dared! I have raised my handagainst Him whom you have talked with face to face----"

"Only Tharon has done that, " I said gently, "I but wear his sign. Peace, Woman of the Morning. There is no injury where there is nointent. We are not yet '_at the Forest's Edge_. '"

Slowly the color returned to lip and cheek, her fascinated eyes roamedfrom my face to the tattooed wolf and mark of Tharon crossing it. Andafter a little she smiled faintly at my smile, as I said:

"I have drawn the fangs of the Wolf; fear no more, Daughter of theSun. "

"I--I fear no more, " she breathed. 

"Shall an ensign of the Oneida cherish wrath?" I asked. "He who bears aquiver has forgotten. See, child; it is as it was from the beginning. Hiro. "

I calmly seated myself on the floor, knees gathered in my claspedhands; and she settled down opposite me, awaiting in instinctivesilence my next words. 

"Why does my sister wear the dress of an adolescent, mocking the FalseFaces, when the three fires are not yet kindled?" I asked. 

"I hold the fire-right, " she said quickly. "Ask those who wear the maskwhere cherries grow. O sachem, those cherries were ripe ere I was!"

I thought a moment, then fixed my eager eyes on her. 

"Only the Cherry-Maid of Adriutha has that right, " I said. My heart, beating furiously, shook my voice, for I knew now who she was. 

"I am Cherry-Maid to the three fires, " she said; "in bud at Adriutha, in blossom at Carenay, in fruit at Danascara. "

"Your name?"

"Lyn Montour. "

I almost leaped from the floor in my excitement; yet the engraftedOneida instinct of a sachem chained me motionless. "You are the wife ofWalter Butler, " I said deliberately, in English. 

A wave of crimson stained her face and shoulders. Suddenly she coveredher face with her hands. 

"Little sister, " I said gently, "is it not the truth? Does aQuiver-bearer lie, O Blossom of Carenay?"

Her hands fell away; she raised her head, the tears shining on herheavy lashes: "It is the truth. "

"His wife?" I repeated slowly. 

"His wife, O Bearer of Arrows! He took me at the False Faces' feast, and the Iroquois saw. Yet the cherries were still green at Danascara. Twice the Lenape covered their faces; twice 'The Two Voices' unveiledhis face. So it was done there on the Kennyetto. " She leaned swiftlytoward me: "Twice he denied me at Niagara. Yet once, when our love wasnew--when I still loved him--he acknowledged me here in this veryhouse, in the presence of a County Magistrate, Sir John Johnson. I amhis wife, I, Lyn Montour! I have never lied to woman or man, O my elderbrother!"

"And that is why you have come back?"

"Yes; to search--for something to help me--some record--God knows!--Ihave searched and searched--" She stretched out her bare arms and gazedhopelessly around the paper-littered floor. 

"Will not Sir John uphold you with his testimony?" I asked. 

"He? No! He also denies it. What can a woman expect of a man who hasbroken parole?" she added, in contempt. 

I leaned toward her, speaking slowly, and with deadly emphasis:

"Dare Walter Butler deny what the Iroquois Nation may attest?"

"He dare, " she said, burning eyes on mine. "I am more Algonquin thanHuron, and more than nine-tenths white. What is it to the Iroquois thatthis man puts me away? It was the Mohican and Lenape who veiled theirfaces, not the Iroquois. What is it to white men that he took me andhas now put me away? What is it to them that he now takes another?"

"Another? Whom?" My lips scarcely formed the question. 

"I do not know her name. When he returned from the horrors of CherryValley Sir Frederick Haldimand refused to see him. Yet he managed tomake love to Sir Frederick's kinswoman--a child--as I was when he tookme----"

She closed her eyes. I saw the lashes all wet again, but her voice didnot tremble: "He is at Niagara with his Rangers--or was. And--when Icame to him he laughed at me, bidding me seek a new lover at thefort----"

Her voice strangled. Twisting her fingers, she sat there, eyes closed, dumb, miserable. At last she gasped out: "O Quiver-bearer, with a whitevoice and a skin scarce whiter than my own, though your nation besundered from the Long House, though I be an outcast of clans andnations, speak to me kindly, for my sadness is bitter, and the ghost ofmy dead honor confronts me in every forest-trail!" She stretched outher arms piteously:

"Teach me, brother; instruct me; heal my bruised heart of hate for thisyoung man who was my undoing--cleanse my fierce, desirous heart. I lovehim no longer; I--I dare not hate him lest I slay him ere he rights mywrongs. My sorrow is heavier than I can bear--and I am young, Osachem--not yet eighteen--until the snow flies. "

She laid her face in her hands once more; through her slim fingers thebright tears fell slowly. 

"Are you Christian, little sister?" I asked, wondering. 

"I do not know. They say so. A brave Jesuit converted me ere I wasunstrapped from the cradle-board--ere I could lisp or toddle. God knows. My own brother died in war-paint; my grandmother was French Margaret, mymother--if she be my mother--is the Huron witch of Wyoming; some callher Catrine, some Esther. Yet I was chaste--till _he_ took me--chaste asan Iroquois maid. Thus has he wrought with me. Teach me to forgive him!"

And _this_ the child of Catrine Montour? This that bestial creature theydescribed to me as some slim, fierce temptress of the forests?

"Listen, " I said gently; "if you are wedded by a magistrate, you arehis wife; yet if that magistrate falsely witnesses against you, you cannot prove it. I would give all I have to prove your marriage. Do youunderstand?"

She looked at me, uncomprehending. 

"The woman I love is the woman he now claims as wife, " I said calmly. Then, in that strange place, alone there together in the dim light, shelying full length on the floor, her hands clasped on my knees, told meall. And there, together, we took counsel how to bring this man tojudgment--not the Almighty's ultimate punishment, not even that sternretribution which an outraged world might exact, but a mercifulpenance--the public confession of the tie that bound him to this younggirl. For, among the Iroquois, an unchaste woman is so rare that when amaiden commits the fault she is like a leper until death releases herfrom her awful isolation. 

Together, too, we searched the littered papers on the floor, piece bypiece, bit by bit, but all in vain. And while kneeling there I heard astealthy step behind me, and looked back over my shoulder, to see theOneida, Little Otter, peering in at us, eyeballs fairly starting fromhis painted face. Lyn Montour eyed him silently, and withoutexpression, but I laughed to see how surely he had followed me as I hadexpected; and motioned him away to await my coming. 

It was, I should judge, nearly five o'clock when we descended by theopen stairway to the ground floor. I held the window wide; she placedher hands on the sill and leaped lightly to the grass. I followed. Presently the lilac thicket parted and the tall Oneida appeared, leading my horse. One keen, cunning glance he gave at the girl, then, impassive, stood bolt upright beside my horse. He was superb, strippednaked to clout and moccasin, head shaved, body oiled and mostelaborately painted; and on his broad breast glimmered the Wolf linedin sapphire-blue. When the long roll of the dead thundered through thecouncil-house, his name was the fourth to be called--Shononses. Andnever was chief of the Oneida nation more worthy to lift the antlersthat no grave must ever cover while the Long House endures. 

"Has my brother learned news of the gathering in the north?" I asked, studying the painted symbols on his face and body. 

"The council sits at dawn, " he replied quietly. 

"At dawn!" I exclaimed. "Why, we have no time, then----"

"There is time, brother. There is always time to die. "

"To--die!" I looked at him, startled. Did he, then, expect no mercy atthe council? He raised his eyes to me, smiling. There was nothing offear, nothing of boastfulness, even, in attitude or glance. His dignityappalled me, for I knew what it meant. And, suddenly, the fullsignificance of his paint flashed upon me. 

"You think there is no chance for us?" I repeated. 

"None, brother. "

"And yet you go?"

"And you, brother?"

"I am ordered; I am pledged to take such chances. But you need not go, Little Otter. See, I free you now. Leave me, brother. I desire it. "

"Shononses will stay, " he said impassively. "Let the Long House learnhow the Oneidas die. "

I shuddered and looked again at his paint. It was inevitable; noorders, no commands, no argument could now move him. He understood thathe was about to die, and he had prepared himself. All I could hope forwas that he had mistaken the temper of the council; that the insolenceof a revolted nation daring to present a sachem at the Federal-Councilmight be overlooked--might be condoned, even applauded by those whocherished in their dark hearts, locked, the splendid humanity of theancient traditions. But there was no knowing, no prophesying whataction a house divided might take, what attitude a people maddened bydissensions, wrought to frenzy by fraternal conflict, might assume. Godknows the white man's strife was barbarous enough, brother murderingbrother beneath the natal roof. What, then, might be looked for fromthe fierce, proud people whose Confederacy was steadily crumblingbeneath our touch; whose crops and forests and villages had goneroaring up into flames as the vengeance of Sullivan, with his Rangers, his Continentals, and his Oneidas, passed over their lands in fire!

"Where sits the council?" I asked soberly. 

"At the Dead-Water. "

It was an all-night journey by the Fish House-trails, for we dared notstrike the road, with Sir John's white demons outlying from theconfluence to Frenchman's creek. 

I looked at my horse. Little Otter had strapped ammunition andprovisions to the saddle, leaving room for a rider. I turned to LynMontour; she laid her hands on my shoulders, and I swung her up astridethe saddle. 

"Now, " I said briefly; and we filed away into the north, the Oneidaleading at a slow trot. 

I shall never forget the gloom, the bitter misery of that dark trailwhere specters ever stared at me as I journeyed, where ghosts arose inevery trail--pale wraiths of her I loved, calling me back to loveagain. And "Lost, lost, lost!" wept the little brooks we crossed, allsobbing, whispering her name. 

What an end of all--to die now, leaving life's work unfinished, life'sdesire unsatisfied--all that I loved unprotected and alone on earth. What an end to it all--and I had done nothing for the cause, nothingexcept the furtive, obscure work which others shrank from! And now, skulking to certain death, was denied me even the poor solace of anhonored memory. Here in this shaggy desolation no ray of glory mightpenetrate to gild my last hour with a hero's halo; contempt must be myreward if I failed. I must die amid the scornful laughter of Iroquoiswomen, the shrill taunts of children, the jeers of renegade white men, who pay a thief more honor at the cross-roads gallows than they pay aconvicted spy. Why, I might not even hope for the stern and dignifiedjustice that the Oneida awaited--an iron justice that respected thevictim it destroyed; for he came openly as a sachem of a disobedientnation in revolt, daring to justify his nation and his clan. But I wasto act if not to speak a lie; I was to present myself as a sleeknon-partizan, symbolizing only a nobility of the great Wolf clan. And ifany man accused me as a spy, and if suspicion became conviction, thehorrors of my degradation would be inconceivable. Yet, plying once moremy abhorred trade, I could only obey, hope against hope, and strive toplay the man to the end, knowing what failure meant, knowing, too, whatmy reward for success might be--a low-voiced "Thank you" in secret, agrasp of the hands behind locked doors--a sum of money pressed on meslyly--_that_ hurt most of all--to put it away with a smile, and keep mytemper. Good God! Does a Renault serve his country for money! Why, _why_, can they not understand, and spare me that!--the wages of thewretched trade!

Darkness had long since infolded us; we had slackened to a walk, movingforward between impervious walls of blackness. And always on thecurtain of the inky shadow I saw Elsin's pallid face gazing upon me, until the vision grew so real that I could have cried out in myanguish, reeling forward, on, ever on, through a blackness thick as thevery shadows of the pit that hides lost souls!

At midnight we halted for an hour. The Oneida ate calmly; Lyn Montourtasted the parched corn, and drank at an unseen spring that bubbled adrear lament amid the rocks. Then we descended into the Drowned Lands, feeling our spongy trail between osier, alder, and willow. Once, veryfar away, I saw a light, pale as a star, low shining on the marsh. Itwas the Fish House, and we were near our journey's end--perhaps the endof all journeys, save that last swift trail upward among those thousandstars!

It was near to dawn when we came out upon the marsh; and above, I heardthe whir and whimpering rush of wild ducks passing, the waking call ofbirds, twittering all around us in the darkness; the low undertone ofthe black water flowing to the Sacandaga. 

Over the quaking marsh we passed, keeping the trodden trail, nowwading, now ankle-deep in cranberry, now up to our knees in moss, nowlost in the high marsh-grass, on, on, through birch hummocks, willows, stunted hemlocks and tamaracks, then on firm ground once more, with theoak-mast under foot, and the white dawn silvering the east, and myhorse breathing steam as he toiled on. 

Suddenly I was aware of a dark figure moving through the marsh, parallel, and close to me. The Oneida stopped, stared, then drew hisblanket around him and sat down at the foot of a great oak. 

We had arrived at Thendara! Now, all around us in the dim glade, tallforms moved--spectral shapes of shadowy substance that drifted hitherand thither, passing, repassing, melting into the gloom around, until Icould scarce tell them from the shreds of marsh fog that rose andfloated through the trees around us. 

Slowly the heavens turned to palest gold, then to saffron. All about usshadowy throngs arose to face the rising sun. A moment of intensestillness, then a far, faint cry, "Koue!" And the glittering edge ofthe sun appeared above the wooded heights. Blinding level rays fell onthe painted faces of the sachems of the Long House, advancing to theforest's edge; the Oneida strode forward, head erect, and I, with asign to the girl at my side, followed. 

As we walked through the long, dead grass, I, watching sidewise, notedthe absence of the Senecas. Was it for them the condolence? Suddenly itstruck me that to our side of the circle belonged the duty of the firstrites. Who would speak? Not the Oneidas, for there was none, exceptLittle Otter and myself. Who then? The Cayugas?

I shot a side glance among the slowly moving forms. Ah! that was it! ACayuga sachem led the march. 

The circle was already forming. I saw the Senecas now; I saw all thesachems seating themselves in a cleared space where a birch firesmoldered, sweetening the keen morning air with its writhing, aromaticsmoke; I saw the Oneida cross proudly to his place on our side; and Iseated myself beside him, raising my eyes to the towering figure ofTahtootahoo, the chief sachem and ensign of the great Bear Clan of theOnondaga nation, who stood beside the Cayuga spokesman in whisperedconference. 

To and fro strode the Cayuga, heavy head bent; to and fro, pacing thecircle like a stupefied panther. Once his luminous eyes gleamed onmine, shifted blankly to the Oneida, and thence along the motionlesscircle of painted faces. Mohawk, Seneca, Onondaga were there, forminghalf the circle; Oneida, Cayuga, and Tuscarora welded it to a ring. Iglanced fearfully from ensign to ensign, but saw no Delaware present;and my heart leaped with hope. Walter Butler had lied to me; theLenni-Lenape had never sat at this rite; his mongrel clan had no voicehere. He had lied. 

The pipe had been lighted and was passing in grave silence. I receivedit from a Tuscarora, used it, and handed it to the Oneida, watching thechief sachem of the Senecas as he arose to deliver his brief address ofwelcome. He spoke in the Seneca dialect, and so low that I couldunderstand him only with greatest difficulty, learning nothing exceptthat a Seneca Bear was to be raised up to replace a dead chief slain atSharon. 

Then a very old sachem arose and made a sign which was the symbol oftravel. We touched hands and waited, understanding the form prescribed. Alas, the mourning Senecas had no longer a town to invite us to; therite must be concluded where we sat; we must be content with the skyfor the roof which had fallen in on the Long House, the tall oaks forthe lodge-poles, the east and west for the doors broken down by theinvasion. 

Solemnly the names of the score and three legendary towns were recited, first those of the Wolf, next of the Tortoise, then of the Bear; and Isaw my Wolf-brethren of the four classes of the Mohawks and Cayugasstaring at me as I rose when they did and seated myself at the callingof my towns. And, by heaven! I noted, too, that the Tuscaroras of theGrey Wolf and the Yellow Wolf knew their places, and rose only after wewere seated. Except for the Onondaga Tortoise, a cleft clan awaits thepleasure of its betters. Even a Delaware should know that much, butWalter Butler was ever a liar, for it is not true that the Anowara orTortoise is the noble clan, nor yet the Ocquari. It is the Wolf, theOquacho Clan; and the chiefs of the Wolf come first of all!

Suddenly the sonorous voice of the Seneca broke the silence, pronouncing the opening words of the most sacred rite of the Iroquoispeople:

"_Now to-day I have been greatly startled by your voice comingthrough the forest to this opening_----"

The deep, solemn tones of the ancient chant fell on the silence like thenotes of a sad bell. It was, then, to be a double rite. Which nationamong the younger brothers mourned a chief? I looked at the Oneidabeside me; his proud smile softened. Then I understood. Good God! Theywere mourning him, _him_, as though he were already dead!

The Seneca's voice was sounding in my ears: "_Now, therefore, you whoare our friends of the Wolf Clan_----" I scarcely heard him. Presentlythe "Salute" rolled forth from the council; they were intoning the"Karenna. "

I laid my hand on the Oneida's wrist; his pulse was calm, nor did itquicken by a beat as the long roll of the dead was called:

 "_Continue to listen, Thou who wert ruler, Hiawatha! Continue to listen, Thou who wert ruler: That was the roll of you-- You who began it-- You who completed The Great League!-- Continue to listen, Thou who wert ruler: That was the roll of you_----"

The deep cadence of the chanting grew to a thunderous sound; name aftername of the ancient dead was called, and the thrilling responseswelled, culminating in a hollow shout. Then a pause, and the solemntones of a single voice intoning the final words of gloom. 

For ten full minutes there was not a sound except the faint snapping ofthe smoking birch twigs. Then up rose the chief sachem of the Cayugas, cast aside his blanket, faced the circle, dark, lean arm outstretched;and from his lips flowed the beautiful opening words of the YoungerNations:

 "_Yo o-nen o-nen wen-ni-teh onen_----"

 "_Now--now this day--now I come to your door where you mourn. .. . I will enter your door and come before the ashes and mourn with you there. And these words will I speak to comfort you!_"

The music of the voice thrilled me:

 "_To the warriors, to the women, and also to the children; and also to the little ones creeping on the ground, and also to those still tied to the cradle-board. .. . This we say, we three brothers. .. . _

 "_Now another thing we will say, we younger brothers. You mourn. I will clear the sky for you so that you shall not behold a cloud. And also I give the sun to shine upon you, so that you can look peacefully upon it when it goes down. You shall see it when it is going. Yea, ye shall look peacefully upon it when it goes down. .. . _

 "_Now another thing we say, we younger brothers. If any one should fall, then the antlers shall be left on the grave. .. . _

 "_Now another thing we say, we younger brothers. We will gird the belt on you with the quiver, and the next death will receive the quiver whenever you shall know that there is death among us, when the fire is made and the smoke is rising. This we say and do, we three brothers. _

 "_Now I have finished. Now show me the man!_"

Slowly the Oneida rose from my side and crossed the circle. Every eyewas on him; he smiled as he halted, sweeping the throng with a tranquilglance. Then, drawing his blanket about him he stepped from thesanctuary of the council-ring out into the forest; and after him glideda Mohawk warrior, with face painted black, in token of his terrificoffice. 

A dead silence fell upon the council. 

The pulse was drumming in ears and throat when I arose; and, as theMohawk executioner slipped noiselessly past me, I seized him by theclout-belt, and, summoning every atom of strength, hurled him headlongat my feet, so that he lay stunned and like one dead. 

A roar of astonishment greeted me; a score of voices cried out savagelyon my violation of the fire. 

"It is you who violate it!" I answered, trembling with fury; "you whodare pronounce the sentence of death without consulting the fourclasses of the Oneida!"

A Mohawk sachem arose, casting his scarlet robes at his feet, andpointed at me, hissing: "Where are the Oneida classes? I dare you totell us where the ensigns hide! Where are they? Speak!"

"Here!" I said, tearing my cape open. "Read that sign, O Canienga! Ianswer for the four classes of my nation, and I say that Oneida shallgo free! Now let him who dare accuse me stand forth. It is a Wolf ofTharon who has spoken!"

Absolute silence greeted me. I had risked all on the hazard. 

The executioner had staggered to his feet again, and now stood outsidethe circle leaning against a young oak-tree, half stunned, mechanicallyrubbing the twigs and dead leaves from the sticky black paint thatmasked his visage. I wheeled on him and bade him remain where he wasuntil the council's will was made known; then I walked into the circle;and when they cried out that I had no franchise, I laughed at them, challenging them to deny me my right to stand here for the entireOneida nation. 

For there was nothing now to do but to carry the desperate enterprisethrough or perish. I dared not stop to consider; to attempt to rememberprecedents. I turned on the Mohawks haughtily, demanding that privilegewhich even they could not refuse; I claimed clan-brotherhood from everyWolf in the Long House; and when the council accorded it, I spoke:

"Now I say to you, O you wise men and sachems, that this Oneida shallnot die, because the four classes speak through my mouth! Who is thereto give me the lie? Why are your eight score Oneidas absent--the eightscore who still remain in the Long House? Surely, brothers, there aresachems among them? Why are they not here? Do you fear they might notagree to the punishment of the Oneida nation?"

I folded my arms and stared at the Mohawks. 

"Clan ties are close, national ties closer, but strongest and closest ofall, the six iron links that form the Great League! Why do you punishnow? _How_ can you punish now? Is it well to break the oldest League lawto punish those who have broken the law of the League?"

A Mohawk sachem answered in a dozen stinging words that the Leagueitself was broken; but ere he could finish I stopped him with agesture. 

Then, summoning all my powers, I burst out into a passionate protest, denying that the Great League was broken, glorying in its endurance, calling on every nation to uphold it. And instantly, although not amuscle moved nor a word was uttered, I felt that I had the council withme, that my passion was swaying them, that what I asserted theybelieved. I laughed at the neutrality of the Tuscaroras, at thehalf-hearted attitude of the Onondagas; I made light of the rebellionof the greater portion of the Oneida nation. 

"It is a passing fancy, a whim. The battle-breeze from this white man'swar has risen to a tempest, unroofing the Long House, scattering youfor the moment, creating a disorder, inciting a passion foreign to thetraditions of the Iroquois. I tell you to let the tempest pass andblame no one, neither Tuscarora, Onondaga, nor Oneida. And when thestorm has died out, let the Six Nations gather again from theirhiding-places and build for the Long House a new roof, and raise newlodge-poles, lest the sky fall down and the Confederacy lie in ashesforever!"

I had ended. A profound hush followed, broken by a low word ofapproval, then another, then another. Excited, scarcely knowing what Ihad done, incredulous that I alone had actually stemmed the tide, and, in a breath, overturned the entire plan of the Butlers and of thedemoralized Iroquois, I seated myself beside the Tuscaroras, breathingheavily, alert for a sound that might indicate how my harangue had beenreceived. 

Muttered expressions of approval, an emphatic word here and there, andnot an orator to dispute me!--why, this was victory--though, until theclans had deliberated, I could not know the Federal verdict. Butgradually it dawned on me that I had at least stopped the murder of myOneida, and had lulled all suspicion concerning myself. With a thrillof joy I heard the Seneca spokesman call for the youth to be raised inplace of the dead chief; with a long-drawn breath of relief I saw theancient belts brought, and listened to the reading of the archives fromthem. 

The council ended. One by one the sachems spoke to me kindly, then wenttheir way, some taking to canoes, others filing off through the forest, until I found myself standing there alone before the smoldering fire, the forest before me, the noon sun blazing overhead. 

The Oneida, motionless now in the midst of those who had but an hourbefore decreed his death, watched the plumed sachems pass him insilence. Neither he nor they uttered a word; but when the last canoehad glided off down the Dead Water toward the Sacandaga, and the lasttall form faded from view in thicket, marsh, and forest, Little Otterturned and came quietly to me, laying my hands on his heart, andlooking me steadily in the eyes. Then together we returned, picking ourpath through the marsh, until we came to Lyn Montour. As she rose tomeet us, a distant sound in the forest attracted the Oneida'sattention. I heard it, too; it was the gallop of horses, coming fromthe north. No Iroquois rode a horse. 

Nearer, nearer sounded the drumming thud of the hoofs. I could feel thesodden marsh jarring now--hear the brush crackle and snap. 

Suddenly a horseman galloped out of the forest's edge, drew bridle atthe clearing, bent and examined the covered fire, struck his forehead, and stared around him. 

The horseman was Walter Butler. 

CHAPTER XIII

THENDARA NO MORE

Astounded at the apparition, yet instantly aware of his purpose, Isprang forward to meet him. That he did not immediately know me in myforest dress was plain enough, for he hastened my steps with an angryand imperious gesture, flung himself from his saddle, laid down hisrifle, and strode to the heap of ashes that had once been thecouncil-fire of Thendara--now Thendara no more. 

His face was still flushed with passion when I came up, my riflecradled in the hollow of my left arm; his distorted features workedsilently as he pointed at the whitening ashes. Suddenly he burst outinto a torrent of blasphemy. 

"What in God's name does this mean?" he shouted. "Have the Iroquoisdared leave this fire before I've had my say?"

His rifle rested between him and me, barrel tilted across a rottinglog, butt in the wet marsh grass. I took a quick step forward anddislodged the weapon, as though by accident, so that it lay where Icould set my foot upon it if necessary. Instantly he faced me, alert, menacing; his dusky eyes lighted to a yellow glare; but when his gazemet mine sheer astonishment held him dumb. 

"Captain Butler, " I said, controlling the fierce quiver in my voice, "it is not this dead council-fire of Thendara that concerns a YellowWolf-whelp. "

"No, " he said, drawing a long breath, "it is not this fire thatconcerns us--" The voice died in his throat. Astonishment stilldominated; he stared and stared. Then a ghastly laugh stretched hisfeatures--a soundless, terrible laugh. 

"So you have come to Thendara after all!" he said. "In your fringes andthrums and capes and bead-work I did not know you, Mr. Renault, nor didI understand that Gretna Green is sometimes spelled Thendara!" Hepointed at the ashes; an evil laugh stretched his mouth again:

"Thendara _was_! Thendara _will be_! Thendara--Thendara no more! AndI am too late?"

The evil, silent laugh grew terrible: "Well, Mr. Renault, I hadbusiness elsewhere; yet, had I known you had taken to forest-running, Iwould have come to meet you at Thendara. However, I think there isstill time to arrange one or two small differences of opinion that havearisen between you and me. "

"There is still time, " I said slowly. 

He cast an involuntary glance at his rifle; made the slightest motion;hesitated, looking hard at me. I shook my head. 

"_Not_ that way?" he inquired blandly. "Well, " with a cool shrug, "thatwas _one_ way to arrange matters, Mr. Renault--and remember I offeredit! Remember that, Mr. Renault, when men speak of you as they speak ofBoyd!"

The monstrous insult of the menace left me outwardly unmoved; yet Iwondered he had dared, seeing how helpless he must be did I but raisemy rifle. 

"Well, Mr. Renault, " he sneered, "I was right, it seems, concerningthat scrap o' treason unearthed in your chambers. God! how you floutedthat beast, Sir Henry, and his fat-headed adjutant!"

He studied me coldly: "Do you mean to let me have my rifle?"

"No. "

"Oh! you mean murder?"

"I am no executioner, " I said contemptuously. "There are those a-plentywho will paint black for a guinea--after a court martial. There arethose who _paint for war_, too, Mr. Butler. "

I talked to gain time; and, curiously enough, he seemed to aid me, being in nowise anxious to force my hand. Ah! I should have beensuspicious at that--I realized it soon enough--yet the Iroquois, leaving Thendara for the rites at the Great Tree, were not yet out ofsound of a shout, or of a rifle-shot--though I meant to take him alive, if that were possible. And all the while I watched his every carelessgesture, every movement, every flutter of his insolent eyelids, readyto set foot upon his rifle and hold him to the spot. He no longerappeared to occupy himself with the recovery of his rifle; he woreneither pistol nor knife nor hatchet; indeed, in his belt I saw a rollof paper, closely scribbled, and knew it to be a speech composed fordelivery at this fire, now burned out forever. 

He placed his hands on his hips, pacing to and fro the distance betweenthe fire and the edge of the Dead Water, now looking thoughtfully upinto the blue sky, now lost in reverie. And every moment, I believed, was a precious moment gained, separating him more and more hopelesslyfrom his favorite Senecas, whom he might even now summon by a shout. 

Presently he halted, with an absent, upward glance, then his gazereverted to me; he drew out a handsome gold watch, examined it withexpressionless interest, and slowly returned it to the fob-pocket. 

"Well, sir, " he inquired, "do I take it that you desire to furtherdetain me here, or do you merely wish to steal my rifle?"

"I think, truly, that you no longer require your rifle, Mr. Butler, " Isaid quietly. 

"A question--a matter of opinion, Mr. Renault. " He waved his handgracefully. "Who are your red friends yonder?" pointing toward the twodistant forms at the edge of the willows. 

"An Oneida and a quarter-breed. "

"Oh--a squaw? By the head-gear I take the smaller one to be a Huronsquaw. Which reminds me, Mr. Renault, " he added, with a dull stare, "that the last time I had the pleasure of seeing your heels you wereheaded for the nearest parson!"

That awful, soundless laugh distorted his mouth again:

"I could scarcely be expected to imagine, " he added, "that it was asfar as this to Gretna Green. Is the Hon. Miss Grey with you here?"

"No, Mr. Butler, but your wife is with me. "

"Oh!" he sneered; "so you have learned at last what she is?"

"You do not understand, " I continued patiently. "I speak of your wife, Mr. Butler. Shall I name her?"

He looked at me narrowly. Twice his lips parted as though to speak, butno sound came. 

"The woman yonder is Lyn Montour, " I said in a low voice. 

The yellow flare that lighted his black eyes appalled me. 

"Listen to me, " I went on. "That I do not slay you where you stand isbecause _she_ is yonder, watching us. God help her, you shall do herjustice yet! You are my prisoner, Mr. Butler!" And I set my foot uponhis rifle. 

He did not seem to hear me; his piercing gaze was concentrated on thetwo distant figures standing beside the horse. 

I waited, then spoke again; and, at the sound of my voice, he wheeledon me with a snarl. 

"You damned spy!" he stammered; "I'll stop your dirty business now, byGod!" and, leaping back, whipped a ranger's whistle to his lips, wakingthe forest echoes with the piercing summons ere I had bounded on himand had borne him down, shoulder-deep in moss and marsh-grass. 

Struggling, half smothered by the deep and matted tangle, I heard thestartled shout of the Oneida; the distant crashing of many men runningin the underbrush; and, throttling him with both hands, I dragged himto his feet and started toward the Oneida, pulling my prisoner with me. But a yell from the wood's edge seemed to put fresh life into him; hebit and scratched and struggled, and I labored in vain to choke him orstun him. Then, in very desperation and fear of life, I strove to killhim with my hands, but could not, and at last hurled him from me toshoot him; but he had kicked the flint from my rifle, and, as I leveledit, he dropped on the edge of the Dead Water and wriggled over, splash!into the dark current, diving as my hatchet hit the waves. Then I heardthe loud explosion of rifles behind me; bullets tore through the scrub;I turned to run for my life. And it was time. 

"Ugh!" grunted the Oneida, as I came bursting headlong through thewillows. "Follow now!" He seized the horse by the bridle; the girlmounted; then, leading the horse at a trot, we started due souththrough the tossing bushes. 

A man in a green uniform, knee-deep in the grass, fired at us from theStacking-Ridge as we passed, and the Oneida shook his rifle at him witha shout of insult. For now at last the whole game was up, and mymission as a spy in this country ended once and forever. No chance nowto hobnob with Johnson's Greens, no chance to approach St. Leger andHaldimand. Butler was here, and there could be no more concealment. 

Such an exhilaration of savage happiness seized me that I lost my head, and begged the Oneida to stop and let me set a flint and give the RoyalGreens a shot or two; but the wily chief refused; and he was wise, forI should have known that the Sacandaga must already be a swarming nestof Johnson's foresters and painted savages. 

The heat was terrific in the willows; sweat poured from the half-nakedOneida as he ran, and my hunting-shirt hung soaked, flapping across mythighs. 

We had doubled on them now, going almost due west. Far across the VlaieI could see dark spots moving along the Dead Water, and here and therea distant rifle glimmering as the sun struck it. Now and then a faintshout was borne to our ears as we halted, dripping and panting in thebirches to reconnoiter some open swale ahead, or some cranberry-bogcrimsoning under the October sun. 

We swam the marshy creek miles to the west, coming out presently into arutty wagon-trail, which I knew ran south to Mayfield; but we dared notuse it, so steered the dripping horse southeast, chancing rather tocross Frenchman's Creek, four miles above Varicks, and so, by a circlebearing east and south, reaching the Broadalbin trail, or some saferoad between Galway and Perth, or, if driven to it, making for Saratogaas a last resort. 

My face was burned deep red, and I was soaked from neck to heels, sothat my moccasins rubbed and chafed at every step. The girl had sat hersaddle while the horse swam, so that her legs only were wet. As for theOneida, his oiled and painted skin shed water like the plumage of aduck. Lord knows, we left a trail broad and wet enough for even aHessian to follow; and for that reason dared not halt north ofFrenchman's Creek or short of Vanderveer's grist-mill. 

As I plodded on, rifle atrail, I began to comprehend the full import ofwhat had occurred since the day before, when I, with soul full ofbitterness, had left Burke's Inn. Was it only a day ago? By Heaven, itseemed a year since I had looked upon Elsin Grey! And what a change infortune had come upon us in these two score hours! Free to wed now--ifwe dared accept the heart-broken testimony of this poor girl--if wedared deny the perjured testimony of a dishonored magistrate, leaguedwith his fellow libertine, who, thank God, had at length learnedsomething of the fury he used on others. Strange that in all this war Ihad never laid a rifle level save at him; strange that I had never seenblood shed in anger, through all these battle years, except the bloodthat now dried, clotting on my cheek-bone, where his shoulder-bucklehad cut me in the struggle. His spurs, too, had caught in the skirt ofmy hunting-shirt, tearing it to the fringed hem, and digging a furrowacross my instep; and the moccasin on that foot was stiff with blood. 

Ah, if I might only have brought him off; if I might only have carriedthis guilty man to Johnstown! Yet I should have known that Sir John'smen were likely to be within hail, fool that I was to take thedesperate chance when a little parley, a little edging toward him, asudden blow might have served. Yet I was glad in my heart that I hadnot used craft; cat traits are not instinctive with me; craft, stealth, a purring ambush--faugh! I was no coward to beat him down unawares. Ihad openly declared him prisoner, and I was glad I had done so. Why, Imight have shot him as we talked, had I been of a breed to domurder--had I been inhuman enough to slay him, unwarned, before thevery eyes of the woman he had wronged, and who still hoped for mercyfrom him lest she pass her life a loathed and wretched outcast amongthe people who had accepted her as an Iroquois. 

Thinking of these things which so deeply concerned me, I ploddedforward with the others, hour after hour, halting once to drink and toeat a little of our parched corn, then to the unspotted trail oncemore, imperceptibly gaining the slope of that watershed, the streams ofwhich feed the Mayfield Creek, and ultimately the Hudson. 

Varicks we skirted, not knowing but Sir John's scouts might be inpossession, the peppery, fat patroon having closed his house and takenhis flock to Albany; and so traveling the forest east by south, madefor the head waters of that limpid trout-stream I had so often fished, spite of the posted warnings and the indignation of the fat patroon, who hated me. 

I think it was about four o'clock in the afternoon when, pressingthrough brush and windfall, we came suddenly out into a sunny road. Beside the road ran a stream clattering down-hill over its stony bed--aclear, noisy stream, with swirling brown trout-pools and rapids, rushing between ledges, foaming around boulders, a joyous, rolicking, dashing, headlong stream, that seemed to cheer us with its gay clamor;and I saw the Oneida's stern eyes soften as he bent his gaze upon it. Poor little Lyn Montour slipped, with a sigh, from her saddle, while myhorse buried his dusty nose in the sparkling water, drawing deep, colddraughts through his hot throat. And here by the familiar head watersof Frenchman's Creek we rested in full sight of the grist-mill aboveus, where the road curved west. The mill-wheel was turning; a man cameto the window overlooking the stream and stood gazing at us, and Iwaved my hand at him reassuringly, recognizing old Vanderveer. 

Beyond the mill I could see smoke rising from the chimneys of theunseen settlement. Presently a small barefoot boy came out of the mill, looked at us a moment, then turned and legged it up the road tight ashe could go. The Oneida, smoking his pipe, saw the lad's hasty flight, and smiled slightly. 

"Yes, Little Otter, " I said, "they take us for some of Sir John'speople. You'll see them coming presently with their guns. Hark! Theregoes a signal-shot now!"

The smacking crack of a rifle echoed among the hills; a conch-horn'smelancholy note sounded persistently. 

"Let us go on to the Yellow Tavern, " I said; and we rose and limpedforward, leading the horse, whose head hung wearily. 

Before we reached the Oswaya mill some men in their shirt-sleeves shotat us, then ran down through an orchard, calling on us to halt. Onecarried a shovel, one a rifle, and the older man, whom I knew as aformer tenant of my father, bore an ancient firelock. When I called outto him by name he seemed confused, demanding to know whether we wereWhigs or Tories; and when at length he recognized me he appeared to bevastly relieved. It seemed that he, Wemple, and his two sons had beenburying apples, and that hearing the shot fired, had started for theirhomes, where already the alarm had spread. Seeing us, and supposing wehad cut him off from the settlement, he had decided to fight his waythrough to the mill. 

"I'm mighty glad you ain't shot, Mr. Renault, " he said in his thin, high voice, scratching his chin, and staring hard at the Oneida. "Seein' these here painted injuns sorter riled me up, an' I up an' letye have it. So did Willum here. Lord, sir, we've been expecting SirJohn for a month, so you must kindly excuse us, Mr. Renault!"

He shook his white head and looked up the road where a dozen armed menwere already gathered, watching us from behind the fences. 

"Sir John is on the Sacandaga, " I said. "Why don't you go to Johnstown, Wemple? This is no place for your people. "

He stood, rubbing his hard jaw reflectively. 

"Waal, sir, " he piped, "it's kind er hard to leave all you've got inthe world. " He added, looking around at his fields: "I'd be a pauper ifI quit. Mebbe they won't come here, after all. Mebbe Sir John will godown the Valley. "

"Besides, we ain't got our pumpkins in nor the winter corn stacked, "observed one of his sons sullenly. 

We all turned and walked slowly up the road in the direction of the bigyellow tavern, old Wemple shaking his head, and talking all the whilein a thin, flat, high-pitched voice: "It seems kind'r hard that SirJohn can't quit his pesterin' an' leave folks alone. What call has heto come back a-dodgin' 'round here year after year, a-butcherin' hisold neighbors, Mr. Renault? 'Pears to me he's gone crazy as a mad dog, a-whirlin' round and round the same stump, buttin' and bitin' andclawin' up the hull place. Sakes alive! ain't he got no human natur'?Last Tuesday they come to Dan Norris's, five mile down the creek, an'old man Norris he was in the barn makin' a ladder, an' Dan he was gonefor the cow. A painted Tory run into the kitchen an' hit the old womanwith his hatchet, an' she fetched a screech, an' her darter, 'Liza, shescreeched, too. Then a Injun he hit the darter, and he kep' a-kickin'an' a-hittin', an' old man Norris he heard the rumpus out to the barn, an' he run in, an' they pushed him out damn quick an' shot him in thelegs. A Tory clubbed him an' ripped his skelp off, the old man on hisknees, a-bellowin' piteous, till they knifed him all to slivers an'kicked what was left o' him into the road. The darter she prayed an'yelled, but 'twan't no use, for they cut her that bad with hatchets shewas dead when Dan came a-runnin'. 'God!' he says, an' goes at theinimy, swingin' his milk-stool--but, Lord, sir, what can one man do? Hewas that shot up it 'ud sicken you, Mr. Renault. An' then they was twolittle boys a-lookin' on at it, too frightened to move; but when thedestructives was a-beatin' old Mrs. Norris to death they hid in thefence-hedge. An' they both of 'em might agot clean off, only thelittlest one screamed when they tore the skelp off'n the old woman; an'he run off, but a Tory he chased him an' ketched him by the fence, an'he jest held the child's legs between his'n, an' bent him back an' cuthis throat, the boy a-squealin' something awful. Then the Tory skelpedhim an' hung him acrost the fence. The only Norris what come out of itwas the lad who lay tight in the fence-scrub--Jimmy. He's up at myhouse; you'll see him. He come here that night to tell us of themgoin's on. He acts kinder stupid, like he ain't got no wits, an' hejests sets an' sets, starin' at nothin'--leastways at nothin' I kinsee----"

His high-pitched, garrulous chatter, and the horrid purport of it, wereto me indescribably ghastly. To hear such things told without tremor oremphasis or other emotion than the sullen faces of his two strappingsons--to hear these incredible horrors babbled by an old man whose fatemight be the same that very night, affected me with such anoverpowering sense of helplessness that I could find no word toreassure either him or the men and boys who now came crowding aroundus, asking anxiously if we had news from the Sacandaga or from thenorth. 

All I could do was to urge them to leave their homes and go toJohnstown; but they shook their heads, some asserting that Johnstownwas full of Tories, awaiting the coming of Walter Butler to rise andmassacre everybody; others declaring that the Yellow Tavern, which hadbeen fortified, was safer than Albany itself. None would leave house orland; and whether these people really believed that they could hold outagainst a sudden onslaught, I never knew. They were the usual mixtureof races, some of low Dutch extraction, like the Vanderveers andWemples, some high Dutch, like the Kleins; and, around me, I saw, recognized, and greeted people who in peaceful days had been settled inthese parts, and some among them had worked for my father--honest, simple folk, like Patrick Farris, with his pretty Dutch wife andtow-headed youngsters; and John Warren, once my father's head groom, and Jacob Klock, kinsman of the well-known people of that name. 

The Oneida, pressed and questioned on every side, replied in guardedmonosyllables; poor Lyn Montour, wrapped to the eyes in her blanket, passed for an Iroquois youth, and was questioned mercilessly, until Iinterposed and opened the tavern door for her and for Little Otter. 

"I tell you, Wemple, " I said, turning on the tavern porch to addressthe people, "there is no safety here for you if Walter Butler or SirJohn arrive here in force. It will be hatchet and torch again--the samestory, due to the same strange Dutch obstinacy, or German apathy, orYankee foolhardiness. In the grain belt it is different; there thefarmers are obliged to expose themselves because our army needs bread. But your corn and buckwheat and pumpkins and apples can be left for aweek or two until we see how this thing is going to end. Be sensible;stack what you can, but don't wait to thresh or grind. Bury yourapples; let the cider go; harness up; gather your cattle and sheep;pack up the clock and feather bed, and move to Johnstown with yourfamilies. In a week or two you will know whether this country is to begiven to the torch again, or whether, by God's grace, Colonel Willettis to send Walter Butler packing! I'll wait here a day for you. Thinkit over. 

"I have seen the Iroquois at the Sacandaga Vlaie. I saw Walter Butlerthere, too; and the woods were alive with Johnson's Greens. The onlyreason why they have not struck you here is, no doubt, because therewas more plunder and more killing to be had along the Sacandaga. Butwhen there remain no settlements there--when villages, towns, hamletsare in ashes, like Currietown, like Minnesink, Cherry Valley, Wyoming, Caughnawaga, then they'll turn their hatchets on these lone farms, these straggling hamlets and cross-road taverns. I tell you, to-daythere is not a house unburned at Caughnawaga, except the church andthat villain Doxtader's house--not a chimney standing in the MohawkValley, from Tribes Hill to the Nose. Ten miles of houses in ashes, tenmiles of fields a charred trail!

"Now, do as you please, but remember. For surely as I stand here themilitia call has already gone out, and this country must remain exposedwhile we follow Butler and try to hunt him down. "

The little throng of people, scarcely a dozen in all, received mywarning in silence. Glancing down the road, I saw one or two womenstanding at their house doors, and children huddled at the gate, allintently watching us. 

"I want to send a message to Colonel Willett, " I said, turning to theOneida. "Can you go? Now?"

The tireless fellow smiled. 

"Give us what you have to eat, " I said to Patrick Farris, whose roundand rosy little wife had already laid the board in the big room inside. And presently we sat down to samp, apple-sauce, and bread, with a greatbowl of fresh milk to each cover. 

The Oneida ate sparingly; the girl mechanically, dull eyes persistentlylowered. From the first moment that the Oneida had seen her he hadnever addressed a single word to her, nor had he, after the first keenglance, even looked at her. This, in the stress of circumstances, theforced and hasty marches, the breathless trail, the tension of theThendara situation, was not extraordinary. But after excitement andfatigue, and when together under the present conditions, two Iroquoiswould certainly speak together. 

Anxious, preoccupied as I was, I could not help but notice howabsolutely the Oneida ignored the girl; and I knew that he regarded heras an Oneida invariably regards a woman no longer respected by the mostchaste of all people, the Iroquois nation. 

That she understood and passionately resented this was perfectly plainto me, though she neither spoke nor moved. There was nothing for me todo or say. Already I had argued the matter with myself from everystandpoint, and eagerly as I sought for solace, for a ray of hope, Icould not but understand how vain it were to ask a cynical world tobelieve that this young girl was Walter Butler's wife. No; with hisdenial, with the averted faces of the sachems on the Kennyetto, as sheherself had admitted, with the denial of Sir John, what evidence couldbe brought forward to justify me in wedding Elsin Grey? Another thing:even if Sir John should admit that, acting in capacity of a magistrateof Tryon County, he had witnessed the marriage of Walter Butler and LynMontour, what civil powers had a deposed magistrate; a fugitive who hadbroken parole and fled?

No, there was no legal tie here. I was not now free to wed; Iunderstood that as I sat there, staring out of the window into the redwest, kindling to flame behind the Mayfield hills. 

The Oneida, rolling himself in his blanket, had stretched out on thebare floor by the hearth; the girl, head buried in her hands, satbrooding above the empty board. Farris fetched me ink and quill and theonly sheet of paper in the settlement; but it was sufficiently large totear in half; and I inked my rusty quill and wrote:

 "Yellow Tavern, Oswaya on Frenchman's Creek. 

 "COLONEL MARINUS WILLETT:

 "_Sir_--I have the honor to report that the scout of two, under my command, proceeded, agreeable to orders, as far as the Vlaie, called Sacandaga Vlaie, arriving there at dawn and in time for the council and rites of Thendara, which were held at the edge of the Dead Water or Vlaie Creek. 

 "I flatter myself that the Long House has abandoned any idea of punishing the Oneidas for the present--the council recognizing my neutral right to speak for the Oneida nation. The Oneidas dissenting, naturally there could be no national unanimity, which is required at Thendara before the Long House embarks upon any Federal policy. 

 "Whether or not this action of mine was wise, you, sir, must judge. It may be that what I have done will only serve to consolidate the enemy in the next enterprise they undertake. 

 "My usefulness as a spy in Sir John's camp must prove abortive, as I encountered Captain Walter Butler at the Dead Water, who knows me, and who is aware of my business in New York. Attempting to take him, I made a bad matter of it, he escaping by diving. Some men in green uniforms, whom I suppose were foresters from Sir John's corps, firing on us, I deemed it prudent to take to my heels as far as the settlement called Oswaya, which is on Frenchman's Creek, some five miles above Varicks. 

 "The settlement is practically defenseless, and the people hereabout expect trouble. If you believe it worth while to send some Rangers here to complete the harvest, it should, I think, be done at once. Patrick Farris, landlord at the Yellow Tavern, estimates the buckwheat at five thousand bushels. There is also a great store of good apples, considerable pitted corn, and much still standing unstacked, and several acres of squashes and pumpkins--all a temptation to the enemy. 

 "I can form no estimate of Sir John's force on the Sacandaga. This letter goes to you by the Oneida runner, Little Otter, who deserves kind treatment for his services. I send you also, under his escort, an unfortunate young girl, of whom you have doubtless heard. She is Lyn Montour, and is by right, if not by law, the wife of Captain Walter Butler. He repudiates her; her own people disown her. I think, perhaps, some charitable lady of the garrison may find a home for her in Johnstown or in Albany. She is Christian by instinct if not by profession. 

 "Awaiting your instructions here, I have the honor to remain, Your humble and ob't servant, "CARUS RENAULT, "_Regt. Staff Capt_. "

The sun had set. Farris brought a tallow dip. He also laid a fire inthe fireplace and lighted it, for the evening had turned from chill tosheer dry cold, which usually meant a rain for the morrow in theseparts. 

Shivering a little in my wet deerskins, I sanded, folded, directed, andsealed the letter, laid it aside, and drew the other half-sheet towardme. For a few moments I pondered, head supported on one hand, thendipped quill in horn and wrote:

 "_Beloved_--There is a poor young girl here who journeys to-night to Johnstown under escort of my Oneida. Do what you can for her in Johnstown. If you win her confidence, perhaps we both may help her. Her lot is sad enough. 

 "Dearest, I am to acquaint you that I am no longer, by God's charity, a spy. I now hope to take the field openly as soon as our scouts can find out just exactly where Major Ross and Butler's Rangers are. 

 "To my great astonishment, disgust, and mortification, I have learned that Walter Butler is near here. He evidently rode forward, preceding his command, in order to be present at an Iroquois fire. He was too late to work anybody a mischief in that direction. 

 "It is now our duty to watch for his Rangers and forestall their attack. For that purpose I expect Colonel Willett to send me a strong scout or to recall me to Johnstown. My impatience to hold you in my arms is tempered only by my hot desire to wash out the taint of my former duties in the full, clean flood of open and honorable battle. 

 "Time presses, and I must wake my Oneida. See that my horse is cared for, dearest. Remember he bore me gallantly on that ride for life and love. 

 "I dare not keep Colonel Willett's report waiting another minute. Good night, my sweet Elsin. All things must come to us at last. 

 "CARUS. "

I dried the letter by the heat of the blazing logs. The Indian stirred, sat up in his blanket, and looked at me with the bright, clear eyes ofa hound. 

"I am ready, brother, " I said gently. 

It was cold, clear starlight when Farris brought my horse around. I setLyn Montour in the saddle, and walked out into the road with her, myhand resting on her horse's mane. 

"Try not to be sad, " I whispered, as she settled herself in thestirrups like a slim young trooper, and slowly gathered bridle. 

"I am no longer sad, Mr. Renault, " she said tremulously. "I comprehendthat I have no longer any chance in the world. "

"Not among your adopted people, " I said, "but white people understand. There is no reason, child, why you should not carry your head proudly. You are guiltless, little sister. "

"I am truly unconscious of any sin, " she said simply. 

"You have committed none. His the black shame of your betrayal! And nowthat you know him for the foul beast he is, there can be no earthlyreason that you should suffer either in pride or conscience. You arepitifully young; you have life before you--the life of a white woman, with its chances, its desires, its aims, its right to happiness. Takeit! I bid you be happy, little sister; I bid you hope!"

She turned her face and looked at me; the ghost of a smile trembled onher lips; then, inclining her head in the sweetest of salutes, shewheeled her horse out into the tremulous starlight. And after her stolethe tall Oneida, rifle slanted across his naked shoulders, stridingsilently at her stirrup as she rode. I had a momentary glimpse of theirshadowy shapes moving against the sky, then they were blotted out inthe gloom of the trees, leaving me in the road peering after themthrough the darkness, until even the far stroke of the horse's feetdied out, and there was no sound in the black silence save the hushedrushing of the stream hurrying through the shrouded hollow below. 

Not a light glimmered in the settlement. The ungainly tavern, everywindow sealed with solid shutters, sprawled at the cross-roads, astrange, indistinct silhouette; the night-mist hung low over the fieldsof half-charred stumps, and above the distant bed of the brook a bandof fog trailed, faintly luminous. 

Never before had I so deeply felt the desolation of the northland. In awilderness there is nothing forbidding to me; its huge earth-bedded, living pillars supporting the enormous canopy of green, its vastness, its mystery, its calm silence, may awe yet nothing sadden. But a vagueforeboding enters when man enters. Where his corn grows amid thecinders of primeval things, his wanton gashes on tree and land, hisbeastly pollution of the wild, crystal waters, all the restlessness, and barrenness, and filth, and sordid deformity he calls hishome--these sadden me unutterably. 

I know, too, that Sir William Johnson felt as I do, loving the forestfor its own beautiful, noble sake; and the great Virginian, who caredmost for the majestic sylvan gardens planted by the Almighty, grievedat destruction, and, even in the stress of anxiety, when his carpentersand foresters were dealing pitilessly with the woods about West Pointin order to furnish timber for the redoubts and the floats for thegreat chain, he thought to warn his engineers to beware of waste causedby ignorance or wantonness. 

Where rich and fertile soil is the reward for the desperate battle withan iron forest, I can comprehend the clearing of a wilderness, andadmire the transformation into gentle hills clothed in green, meadows, alder-bordered waters, acres of grain, and dainty young orchards; buthere, in this land, only the flats along the river-courses are worthyof cultivation; the rest is sand and rock deeply covered with theforest mast, and fertile only while that lasts. And the forest oncegone, land and water shrivel, unnourished, leaving a desert amidcharred stumps and the white phantoms of dead pines. I was ever averseto the cutting of the forests here, except for selected crops ofripened timber to be replaced by natural growth ere the next crop hadripened; and Sir William Johnson, who was wise in such matters, set usa wholesome example which our yeomen have not followed. And alreadylands cleared fifty years since have run out to the sandy subsoil; yetstill the axes flash, still the great trees groan and fall, crashingthrough and smashing their helpless fellows; and in God's own gardenwaters shrink, and fire passes, and the deer flee away, and rain fails, because man passes in his folly, and the path of the fool isdestruction. 

Where Thendara was, green trees flourish to the glory of the Holder ofHeaven. 

Where the forest whitens with men, the earth mourns in ashes for thelost Thendara--Thendara! Thendara no more!

CHAPTER XIV

THE BATTLE OF JOHNSTOWN

Two weeks of maddening inactivity followed the arrival at the YellowTavern of an express from Colonel Willett, carrying orders for me toremain at Oswaya until further command, bury all apples, pit the corn, and mill what buckwheat the settlers could spare as a deposit for thearmy. 

Not a word since that time had I heard from Johnstown, although it wasrumored in the settlement that the Rangers had taken the field inscouts of five, covering the frontier to get into touch with thelong-expected forces that might come from Niagara under Ross and WalterButler, or from the east under St. Leger and Sir John, or even perhapsunder Haldimand. 

Never had I known such hot impatience, such increasing anxiety; neverhad I felt so bitterly that the last chance was vanishing for me tostrike an honest blow in a struggle wherein I, hitherto inert, hadfigured so meanly, so ingloriously. 

To turn farmer clodhopper now was heart-breaking. Yet all I could dowas to organize a sort of home guard there, detail a different yokelevery day to watch the road to Varicks, five miles below, by which theenemy must arrive if they marched with artillery and wagons, as it wasrumored they would. At night I placed a sentinel by the mill to guardagainst scalping parties, and another on the hill to watch the West andSouth. Meager defenses, one might say, and even the tavern wasunstockaded, and protected only by loops and oaken shutters; but everyman and woman was demanded for the harvest; even the children staggeredoff to the threshing-barns, laden with sheaves of red-stemmedbuckwheat, or rolled pumpkins and squashes to the wagons, or shook downcrimson apples for the men to cart away and bury. 

The little Norris boy labored with the others--a thin, sallow child, heavy-eyed and silent. He had recovered somewhat from the shock of thetragedy he had witnessed, and strove to do what was asked of him, butwhen spoken to, seemed confused and slow of comprehension; and thetears were ever starting or smeared over his freckled face from cheekto chin. 

Being an officer, the poor, heavy-witted folk looked to me for thecounsel and wisdom my inexperience lacked. All I could do for them wasto arrange their retreat to the tavern at the first signal of danger, and to urge that the women and children sleep there at night. My advicewas only partly followed. As the golden October days passed, with nofresh alarm from the Sacandaga, their apathetic fatalism turned to atimid confidence that their homes and lands might yet be spared. 

Wemple sold his buckwheat on promise of pay in paper dollars, and wemilled it and barreled it, and made a deposit in Klein's sugar-bush. 

Distant neighbors came a-horseback to the mill with news fromneighbors, still more distant, that Sir John had retreated northwardfrom the Sacandaga, toward Edward; that the Tories threatened Ballston;that Indians had been seen near Galway; that the garrison atSchenectady had been warned to take the field against St. Leger; thaton Champlain General Haldimand had gathered a great fleet, and hismaneuvers were a mystery to the scouts watching him. But no rumors werecarried to us concerning Ross and Butler, except that strange vesselshad been seen leaving Bucks Island. 

The tension, the wearing anxiety, and harrowing chagrin that I had beenleft here forgotten, waxed to a fever that drove me all day restlesslyfrom field to field, from house to barn, and back to the tavern, to sitwatching the road for sign of a messenger to set me free of thisdreary, hopeless place. 

And on one bright, cold morning in late October, when to keep warm onemust seek the sunny lee of the tavern, I sat brooding, watching thecrimson maple-leaves falling from the forest in showers. Frost hadcome, silvering the stiffened earth, and patches of it still lingeredin shady places. Oaks were brown, elms yellow; birches had shed theirleaves; and already the forest stretched bluish and misty, set withflecks of scarlet maple and the darker patches of the pine. 

On that early morning, just after sunrise, I sensed a hint of snow inthe wind that blew out of the purple north; and the premonitionsickened me, for it meant the campaign ended. 

In an ugly and sullen mood I sat glowering at the blackened weeds cutby the frost, when, hearing the sound of horses' feet on the hill, Irose and stood on tiptoe to see who might be coming at such a pace. 

People ran out to the rear to look; nearer and nearer came the dull, battering gallop, then a rider rushed into view, leaning far forward, waving his arm; and a far cry sounded: "Express, ho! News for CaptainRenault!"

An express! I sprang to the edge of the road as the horse thundered by;and the red-faced rider, plastered with mud, twisted in his saddle andhurled a packet at me, shouting: "Butler is in the Valley! Turn out!Turn out!" sweeping past in a whirlwind of dust and flying stones. 

As I caught up the packet from the grass Farris ran out and fired hismusket, then set the conch-horn to his mouth and sent a long-drawn, melancholy warning booming through the forest. 

"Close up those shutters!" I said, "and fill the water-casks!"

Men came running from barn and mill, shouting for the women andchildren; men ran to the hill to look for signs of the enemy, to drivein cattle, to close and latch the doors of their wretched dwellings, asthough bolt and bar could keep out the red fury now at last unloosened. 

I saw a woman, to whose ragged skirts three children clung, toilingacross a stump-field, staggering under a flour-sack full of humblehousehold goods. One of the babies carried a gray kitten clasped to herbreast. 

Pell-mell into the tavern they hurried, white-faced, panting, pushingtheir terrified children into dark corners and under tables. 

"Tell that woman to let her cow go!" I shouted, as a frightened heiferdashed up the road, followed by its owner, jerked almost off her feetby the tether-rope. Old Wemple seized the distracted woman by theshoulder and dragged her back to the tavern, she weeping and turningher head at every step. 

In the midst of this howling hubbub I ripped open my despatches andread:

 "JOHNSTOWN, October 25, 1781. 

 "CAPT. RENAULT:

 "_Sir_--Pursuant to urgent orders this instant arrived by express from Col. Willett at Fort Rensselaer, I have the honor to inform you that Major Ross and Capt. Walter Butler have unexpectedly struck the Valley at Warren's Bush with the following forces:

 Eighth Regiment 25 Thirty-fourth Regiment 100 Eighty-fourth Highlanders Regiment 36 Sir John's Royal Greens Regiment 120 Yagers Regiment 12 Butler's Rangers 150 Indians 130 Renegades 40

 With bat-horses, baggage-wagons, and camp-trains, including forces amounting to a thousand rifles. 

 "What portion of the invading army this flying column may represent is at present unknown to me. 

 "The militia call is out; expresses are riding the county to warn every post, settlement, and blockhouse; Colonel Willett, with part of the garrison at Fort Rensselaer, is marching on Fort Hunter to join his forces with your Rangers, picking up the scouts on his way, and expects to strike Butler at the ford below Tribes Hill. 

 "You will gather from this, sir, that Johnstown is gravely menaced, and no garrison left except a few militia. Indeed, our situation must shortly be deplorable if Colonel Willett does not deliver battle at the ford. 

 "Therefore, if you can start at once and pick up a post of your riflemen at Broadalbin Bush, it may help us to hold the jail here until some aid arrives from Colonel Willett. 

 "The town is panic-stricken. All last night the people stood on the lawn by Johnson Hall and watched the red glare in the sky where the enemy were burning the Valley. Massacre, the torch, and hatchet seem already at our thresholds. However, the event remains with God. I shall hold the jail to the last. 

 "Your ob't serv't, "ROWLEY, _Major Com'nd'g_. "

For one dreadful moment every drop of blood seemed to leave my body. Isank into a chair, staring into the sunshine, seeing nothing. Then thepale face of Elsin Grey took shape before me, gazing at me sorrowfully;and I sprang up, shuddering, and looking about me. What in God's namewas I to do? Go to her and leave these women and babies?--leave thesedull-witted men to defend themselves? Why not? Every nerve in metightened with terror at her danger, every heart-beat respondedpassionately to the appeal. Yet how could I go, with these white-facedwomen watching me in helpless confidence; with these frightenedchildren gathering around me, looking up into my face, reachingtrustfully for my clenched hands?

In an agony of indecision I turned to the door and gazed down the road, an instant only, then leaped back and slammed the great oaken portal, shooting the bars. 

Destiny had decided; Fate had cut the knot!

"Every man to a loop!" I called out steadily. "Wemple, take your sonsto the east room; Klein, you and Farris and Klock take the west andsouth; Warren, look out for the west. They may try to fire the woodenwater-leader. Mrs. Farris, see that the tubs of water are ready; andyou, Mrs. Warren, take the women and children to the cellar and beready to dip up buckets of water from the cistern. "

Silence; a trample on the stairs as the men ran to their posts; not acry, not a whimper from the children. 

I climbed the stairs, and lying at full length beside the loop, cockedmy rifle, and peered out. Almost instantly I saw a man dodge intoKlein's house too quickly for me to fire. Presently the interior of thehouse reddened behind the windows; a thin haze of smoke appeared as bymagic, hanging like a curtain above the roof. Then, with a cracklingroar that came plainly to my ears, the barn behind the house was buriedin flame, seeming almost to blow up in one huge puff of bluish-whitesmoke. 

I heard Wemple's ancient firelock explode, followed by the crack of hissons' rifles, and I saw an Indian running across the pasture. 

Klein's house was now curtained with blackish smoke; Wemple's, too, hadbegun to burn, the roof all tufted with clear little flames, thatseemed to give out no smoke in the sunshine. An Indian darted acrossthe door-yard, and leaped into the road, but at the stunning report ofWarren's rifle he stopped, dropping his gun, and slowly sank, facedownward, in the dust. 

Then I heard the barking scalp-yelp break out, and a storm of bulletsstruck the tavern, leaving along the forest's edge a low wall of brownvapor, which lingered as though glued to the herbage; and through it, red as candle-flames in fog, the spirting flicker of the rifles played, and the old tavern rang with leaden hail. Suddenly the fusilladeceased. Far away I heard a ranger's whistle calling, callingpersistently. 

Wemple's barn was now burning fiercely; the mill, too, had caught fire, and an ominous ruddy glare behind Warren's windows brightened andbrightened. 

Behind me, and on either side of me, the frenzied farmers were firing, maddened by the sight of the destruction, until I was obliged to runamong the men and shake them, warning them to spare their powder untilthere was something besides the forest to shoot at. The interior of thetavern was thick with powder-smoke. I heard people coughing all aroundme. 

And now, out of rifle-range, I caught my first good view of themarauders passing along the red stubble-fields north of Warren'sbarn--some hundred Indians and Tories, marching in columns of fours, rifles atrail, south by east. To my astonishment, instead of facing, they swung around us on a dog-trot, still out of range, pressingsteadily forward across the rising ground. Then suddenly Icomprehended. They cared nothing for Oswaya when there was primekilling and plunder a-plenty to be had in the Valley. They were headedfor Johnstown, where the vultures were already gathering. 

Old Wemple had run down-stairs and flung open the door to watch them. Ifollowed, rifle in hand, and we sped hotfoot across the stump-lot andout upon the hill. Surely enough, there they were in the distance, hastening away to the southward at a long, swinging lope, like a packof timber-wolves jogging to a kill. 

"Hold the tavern to-night and then strike out for Saratoga with allyour people, " I said hurriedly. "They're gone, and I mean to followthem. "

"Be ye goin', sir?" quavered the old man. He turned to gaze at theblazing settlement below, tears running down his cheeks. 

"Oh, Lord! Thy will be done--I guess, " he said. 

Farris, Warren, and Klock came up on the run. I pointed at the distantforest, into which the column was disappearing. 

"Keep the tavern to-night, " I said hoarsely; "there may be a skulkingscalp-hunter or two prowling about until morning, but they'll be goneby sunrise. Good-by, lads!"

One by one they extended their powder-blackened, labor-torn hands, thenturned away in silence toward the conflagration below, to face winterin the wilderness without a roof. 

Rifle at trail, teeth set, I descended the hill, dodging among theblackened stumps, and entered the woods on a steady run. I had no needof a path save for comfort in the going, for this region was perfectlyfamiliar to me from the Sacandaga to the Kennyetto, and from MayfieldCreek to the Cayadutta--familiar as Broadway, from the Battery toVauxhall. No Indian knew it better, nor could journey by short cutsfaster than could I. For this was my own country, and I trusted it. Thedistance was five good miles to the now-abandoned settlement ofBroadalbin, or Fonda's Bush, which some still call it, and my road laysouth, straight as the bee flies, after I had once crossed the trail ofthe Oswaya raiders. 

I crossed it where I expected to, in a soft and marshy glade, unblackened by the frost, where blue flowers tufted the swale, and aclear spring soaked the moss and trickled into a little stream which, Iremembered, was ever swarming with tiny troutlings. Here I found theprint of Cayuga and Mohawk moccasins and white man's boots a-plenty;and, for one fierce instant, burned to pick up the raw trail, hangingon their rear to drive one righteous bullet into them when chance gaveme an opportunity. But the impulse fled as it came. Sick at heart Ipressed forward once more, going at a steady wolf-trot; and sosilently, so noiselessly, that twice I routed deer from their hemlockbeds, and once came plump on a tree-cat that puffed up into fury andbacked off spitting and growling, eyes like green flames, and everyhair on end. 

Tree after tree I passed, familiar to me in happier years--here an oakfrom which, a hundred yards due west, one might find sulphurwater--there a pine, marking a clean mile from the Kennyetto at itsnearest curve, yonder a birch-bordered gulley, haunted of partridge andwoodcock--all these I noted, scarcely seeing them at all, and ploddedon and on until, far away through the trees, I heard the Kennyettoroaring in its gorge, like the wind at Adriutha. 

A stump-field, sadly overgrown with choke-cherry, sumach, andrabbit-brier, warned me that I was within rifle-hail of the Rangers'post at Broadalbin. I swung to the west, then south, then west again, passing the ruins of the little settlement--a charred beam here, anempty cellar there, yonder a broken well-sweep, until I came to theridge above the swamp, where I must turn east and ford the stream, under the rifles of the post. 

There stood the chimney of what had once been my father's house--thenew one, "burned by mistake, " ere it had been completed. 

I gave it one sullen glance; looked around me, saw but heaps of brick, mortar, and ashes, where barns, smoke-houses, granaries, and stableshad stood. The cellar of my old home was almost choked with weeds;slender young saplings had already sprouted among the foundation-stones. 

Passing the orchard, I saw the trees under which I had played as achild, now all shaggy and unpruned, tufted thick with suckers, andringed with heaps of small rotting apples, lying in the grass as theyhad fallen. With a whirring, thunderous roar, a brood of crested grouserose from the orchard as I ran on, startling me, almost unnerving me. The next moment I was at the shallow water's edge, shouting across at ablockhouse of logs; and a Ranger rose up and waved his furry cap at me, beckoning me to cross, and calling to me by name. 

"Is that you, Dave Elerson?" I shouted. 

"Yes, sir. Is there bad news?"

"Butler is in the Valley!" I answered, and waded into the cold, browncurrent, ankle-deep in golden bottom-sands. Breathless, dripping thrumstrailing streams of water after me, I toiled up the bank and stoodpanting, leaning against the log hut. 

"Where is the post?" I breathed. 

"Out, sir, since last night. "

"Which way?" I groaned. 

"Johnstown way, Mr. Renault. The Weasel, Tim Murphy, and Nick Stonerwas a-smellin' after moccasin-prints on the Mayfield trail. About sunupthey made smoke-signals at me that they was movin' Kingsboro way on araw trail. "

He brought me his tin cup full of rum and water. I drank a smallportion of it, then rinsed throat and mouth, still standing. 

"Butler and Ross, with a thousand rifles and baggage-wagons, are makingfor the Tribes Hill ford, " I said. "A hundred Cayugas, Mohawks, andTories burned Oswaya just after sunrise, and are this moment pushing onto Johnstown. We've got to get there before them, Elerson. "

"Yes, sir, " he said simply, glancing at the flint in his rifle. 

"Is there any chance of our picking up the scout?"

"If we don't, it's a dead scout for sure, " he returned gravely. "TimMurphy wasn't lookin' for scalpin' parties from the north. "

I handed him his cup, tightened belt and breast-straps, trailed rifle, and struck the trail at a jog; and behind me trotted David Elerson, famed in ballad and story, which he could not read--nor could TimMurphy, either, for that matter, whose learning lay in thingsunwritten, and whose eloquence flashed from the steel lips of a riflethat never spoke in vain. 

Like ice-chilled wine the sweet, keen mountain air blew in our faces, filtering throat and nostrils as we moved; the rain that the frost hadpromised was still far away--perhaps not rain at all, but snow. 

On we pressed, first breath gone, second breath steady; and only forthe sickening foreboding that almost unnerved me when I thought ofElsin, I should not have suffered from the strain. 

Somewhere to the west, hastening on parallel to our path, was strungout that pack of raiding bloodhounds; farther south, perhaps at thisvery instant entering Johnstown, moved the marauders from the north. Agroan burst from my dry lips. 

Slowing to a walk we began to climb, shoulder to shoulder, ascendingthe dry bed of a torrent fairly alive with partridges. 

"Winter's comin' almighty fast; them birds is a-packin' and a-buddin'already. Down to the Bush I see them peckin' the windfall apples inyour old orchard. "

I scarcely heard him, but, as he calmly gossiped on, hour after hour, afeeling of dull surprise grew in me that at such a time a man couldnote and discuss such trifles. Ah, but he had no sweetheart there inthe threatened town, menaced by death in its most dreadful shape. 

"Are the women in the jail?" I asked, my voice broken by spasmodicbreathing as we toiled onward. 

"I guess they are, sir--leastways Jack Mount was detailed there tohandle the milishy. " And, after a pause, gravely and gently: "Is yourlady there, sir?"

"Yes--God help her!"

He said nothing; there was nothing of comfort for any man to say. Ilooked up at the sun. 

"It's close to noontide, sir, " said Elerson. "We'll make Johnstownwithin the half-hour. Shall we swing round by the Hall and keep cover, or chance it by the road to Jimmy Burke's?"

"What about the scout?" I asked miserably. 

He shook his head, and over his solemn eyes a shadow passed. 

"Mayhap, " he muttered, "Tim Murphy's luck will hold, sir. He's beenfired at by a hundred of their best marksmen; he's been in every bloodyscrape, assault, ambush, retreat, 'twixt Edward and Cherry Valley, andnever a single bullet-scratch. We may find him in Johnstown yet. "

He swerved to the right: "With your leave, Captain Renault, we'llfringe the timber here. Look, sir! Yonder stands the Hall against thesky!"

We were in Johnstown. There, across Sir William's tree-borderedpastures and rolling stubble-fields, stood the baronial hall. Sunlightsparkled on the windows. I saw the lilacs, the bare-limbed locusts, theorchards, still brilliant with scarlet and yellow fruit, the long stonewall and hedge fence, the lawns intensely green. 

"It is deserted, " I said in a low voice. 

"Hark!" breathed Elerson, ear to the wind. After a moment I heard adeadened report from the direction of the village, then another andanother; and, spite of the adverse breeze, a quavering, gentle, sustained sound, scarce more than a vibration, that hung persistentlyin the air. 

"By God!" gasped Elerson, "it's the bell at the jail! The enemy arehere! Pull foot, sir! Our time has come!"

Down the slope we ran, headed straight for the village. Gunshots nowsounded distinctly from the direction of the Court-House; and aroundus, throughout the whole country, guns popped at intervals, sometimes asingle distant report, then a quick succession of shots, like huntersshooting partridges; but we heard as yet no volley-firing. 

"Tories and scalpers harrying the outlying farms, " breathed Elerson. "Look sharp, sir! We're close to the village, and it's full o' Tories. "

Right ahead of us stood a white house; and, as we crossed the hay-fieldbehind it, a man came to the back door, leveled a musket, anddeliberately shot at us. Instantly, and before he could spring back, Elerson threw up his rifle and fired, knocking the man headlong throughthe doorway. 

"The impudent son of a slut!" he muttered to himself, coolly reloading. "Count one more Tory in hell, Davy, lad!"

Priming, his restless eyes searched the road-hedge ahead, then, readyonce more, we broke into a trot, scrambled through the fence, andstarted down the road, which had already become a village street. Itwas fairly swarming with men running and dodging about. 

The first thing I saw clearly was a dead woman lying across ahorse-block. Then I saw a constable named Hugh McMonts running down thestreet, chased closely by two Indians and a soldier wearing a greenuniform. They caught him as we fired, and murdered him in a doorwaywith hatchet and gun-stock, spattering everything with the poorwretch's brains. 

Our impulsive and useless shots had instantly drawn the fire of threered-coated soldiers; and, as the big bullets whistled around us, Elerson grasped my arm, pulled me back, and darted behind a barn. Through a garden we ran, not stopping to load, through anotherbarnyard, scattering the chickens into frantic flight, then out along astony way, our ears ringing with the harsh din of the jail bell. 

"There's the jail; run for it!" panted Elerson, as we came in sight ofthe solid stone structure, rising behind its palisades on the highground. 

I sprang across the road and up the slope, battering at the barricadedpalings with my rifle-stock, while Elerson ran around the defensesbawling for admittance. 

"Hurry, Elerson!" I cried, hammering madly for entrance; "here come theenemy's baggage-wagons up the street!"

"Jack Mount! Jack Mount! Let us in, ye crazy loon!" shouted Elerson. 

Somebody began to unbolt the heavy slab gate; it creaked and swung justwide enough for a man to squeeze through. I shoved Elerson inside andfollowed, pushing into a mob of scared militia and panic-strickencitizens toward a huge buckskinned figure at a stockade loophole on theleft. 

"Jack Mount!" I called, "where are the women? Are they safe?"

He looked around at me, nodded in a dazed and hesitating manner, thenwheeled quick as a flash, and fired through the slit in the logs. 

I crawled up to the epaulment and peered down into the dusty street. Itwas choked with the enemy's baggage-wagons, now thrown into terribleconfusion by the shot from Mount's rifle. Horses reared, backed, swerved, swung around, and broke into a terrified gallop; teamstersswore and lashed at their maddened animals, and some batmen, carrying adead or wounded teamster, flung their limp burden into a wagon, and, seizing the horses' bits, urged them up the hill in a torrent of dust. 

I fumbled for my ranger's whistle, set it to my lips, and blew the"Cease firing!"

"Let them alone!" I shouted angrily at Mount. "Have you no better workthan to waste powder on a parcel of frightened clodhoppers? Send thosemilitiamen to their posts! Two to a loop, yonder! Lively, lads; and seethat you fire at nothing except Indians and soldiers. Jack, come uphere!"

The big rifleman mounted the ladder and leaped to the rifle-platform, which quivered beneath his weight. 

"I thought I'd best sting them once, " he muttered. "Their main forcehas circled the town westward toward the Hall. Lord, sir, it was a badsurprise they gave us, for we understood that Willett held them atTribes Hill!"

I caught his arm in a grip of iron, striving to speak, shaking him tosilence. 

"Where--where is Miss Grey?" I said hoarsely. "You say the women aresafe, do you not?"

"Mr. Renault--sir--" he stammered, "I have just arrived at the jail--Ihave not seen your wife. "

My hand fell from his arm; his appalled face whitened. 

"Last night, sir, " he muttered, "she was at the Hall, watching theflames in the sky where Butler was burning the Valley. I saw her therein a crowd of townsfolk, women, children--the whole town was on thelawn there----"

He wiped his clammy face and moistened his lips; above us, in thewooden tower, the clamor of the bell never ceased. 

"She spoke to me, asking for news of you. I--I had no news of you totell her. Then an officer--Captain Little--fell a-bawling for theRangers to fall in, and Billy Laird, Jack Shew, Sammons, and me--we hadto go. So I fell in, sir; and the last I saw she was standing there andlooking at the reddening sky----"

Blindly, almost staggering, I pushed past him, stumbling down theladder, across the yard, and into the lower corridor of the jail. Therewere women a-plenty there; some clung to my arm, imploring news; somecalled out to me, asking for husband or son. I looked blankly into faceafter face, all strangers; I mounted the stairs, pressing through thetrembling throng, searching every whitewashed corridor, every room;then to the cellar, where the frightened children huddled, then outagain, breaking into a run, hastening from blockhouse to blockhouse, the iron voice of the bell maddening me!

"Captain Renault! Captain Renault!" called out a militiaman, as Iturned from the log rampart. 

The man came hastening toward me, firelock trailing, pack and sackbouncing and flopping. 

"My wife has news of your lady, " he said, pointing to a slim, paleyoung woman who stood in the doorway, a shawl over her wind-blown hair. 

I turned as she advanced, looking me earnestly in the face. 

"Your lady was in the fort late last night, sir, " she began. A fit ofcoughing choked her; overhead the dreadful clangor of the bell dinnedand dinned. 

Dumb, stunned, I waited while she fumbled in her soiled apron, and atlast drew out a crumpled letter. 

"I'll tell you what I know, " she said weakly. "We had been to the Hall;the sky was all afire. My little boy grew frightened, and she--yoursweet lady--she lifted him and carried him for me--I was that sick andweak from fright, sir----"

A fit of coughing shook her. She handed me the letter, unable tocontinue. 

And there, brain reeling, ears stunned by the iron din of the bellwhich had never ceased, I read her last words to me:

 "Carus, my darling, I don't know where you are. Please God, you are not at Oswaya, where they tell me the Indians have appeared above Varicks. Dearest lad, your Oneida came with your letter. I could not reply, for there were no expresses to go to you. Colonel Willett had news of the enemy toward Fort Hunter, and marched the next day. We hoped he might head them, but last night there was an alarm, and we all went out into the street. People were hastening to the Hall, and I went, too, being anxious, now that you are out there alone somewhere in the darkness. 

 "Oh, Carus, the sky was all red and fiery behind Tribes Hill; and women were crying and children sobbing all around me. I asked the Ranger, Mount, if he had news of you, and he was gentle and kind, and strove to comfort me, but he went away with his company on a run, and I saw the militia assembling where the drummers stood beating their drums in the torchlight. 

 "Somebody--a woman--said: 'It's hatchet and scalping again, and we women will catch it now. '

 "And then a child screamed, and its mother was too weak to carry it, so I took it back for her to the jail. 

 "I sat in the jailer's room, thinking and thinking. Outside the barred window I heard a woman telling how Butler's men had already slain a whole family at Caughnawaga--an express having arrived with news of horrors unspeakable. 

 "Dearest, it came to me like a flash of light what I must do--what God meant me to do. Can you not understand, my darling? We are utterly helpless here. I must go back to this man--to this man who is riding hither with death on his right hand, and on his left hand, death!

 "Oh, Carus! Carus! my sin has found me out! It is written that man should not put asunder those joined together. I have defied Him! Yet He repays, mercifully, offering me my last chance. 

 "Sweetheart, I must take it. Can you not understand? This man is my lawful husband; and as his wife, I dare resist him; I have the right to demand that his Indians and soldiers spare the aged and helpless. I must go to him, meet him, and confront him, and insist that mercy be shown to these poor, terrified people. _And I must pay the price!_

 "Oh, Carus! Carus! I love you so! Pray for me. God keep you! I must go ere it is too late. My horse is at Burke's. I leave this for you. Dear, I am striving to mend a shattered life with sacrifice of self--the sacrifice you taught me. I can not help loving you as I do; but I can strive to be worthy of the man I love. This is the only way!

 "ELSIN GREY. "

The woman had begun to speak again. I raised my eyes. 

"Your sweet lady gave me the letter--I waited while she wrote it in thewarden's room--and she was crying, sir. God knows what she has writtenyou!--but she kissed me and my little one, and went out into the yard. I have not seen her since, Mr. Renault. "

Would the din of that hellish bell never cease its torture? Would soundnever again give my aching brain a moment's respite? The tumult, men'ssharp voices, the coughing of the sick woman, the dull, stupid blows ofsound were driving me mad! And now more noises broke out--the measuredcrash of volleys; cheers from the militia on the parapet; an uproarswelling all around me. I heard some one shout, "Willett has enteredthe town!" and the next instant the smashing roll of drums broke out inthe street, echoing back from façade and palisade, and I heard thefifes and hunting-horns playing "Soldiers' Joy!" and the longdouble-shuffling of infantry on the run. 

The icy current of desperation flowed back into every vein. My mindcleared; I passed a steady hand over my eyes, looked around me, and, drawing the ranger's whistle from my belt, set it to my lips. 

The clear, mellow call dominated the tumult. A man in deerskin droppedfrom the rifle-platform, another descended the ladder, others camerunning from the log bastions, all flocking around me like brown deerherding to the leader's call. 

"Fall in!" I scarce knew my own voice. 

The eager throng of riflemen fell away into a long rank, stringing outacross the jail yard. 

"Shoulder arms! Right dress! Right face! Call off!"

The quick responses ran along the ranks: "Right! left! right!left!----"

"Right double!" I called. Then, as order followed order, the leftplatoon stepped forward, halted, and dressed. 

"Take care to form column by platoons right, right front. To theright--face! March!"

The gates were flung wide as we passed through, and, wheeling, swungstraight into the streets of Johnstown with a solid hurrah!

A battalion of Massachusetts infantry was passing St. John's Church, filling William Street with the racket of their drums. Whitecross-belts and rifles shining, the black-gaitered column plodded past, mounted officers leading. Then a field-piece, harness and chainsclanking, came by, breasting the hill at a gallop, amid a tempest ofcheers from my riflemen. And now the Tryon County men were passing industy ranks, and more riflemen came running up, falling in behind mycompany. 

"There's Tim Murphy!" cried Elerson joyously. "He has your horse, Captain!"

Down the hill from Burke's Inn came Murphy on a run, leading my horse;behind him sped the Weasel and a rifleman named Sammons, and Burkehimself, flourishing a rifle, all greeted lustily by the brown ranksbehind me, amid shouts of laughter as Jimmy Burke, in cap andfluttering forest-dress, fell in with the others. 

"Captain Renault, sorr--" I turned. Murphy touched his raccoon cap. 

"Sorr, I hov f'r to repoort thot ye're sweet lady, sorr, is wid Butlerat Johnson Hall. "

"Safe?" My lips scarcely moved. 

"Safe so far, sorr. She rides wid their Major, Ross, an' theshtaff-officers in gold an' green. "

I sprang to the saddle, raised my rifle and shook it, A shrill, wolfishyelling burst from the Rangers. 

"Forward!" And "Forward! forward!" echoed the sergeants, as we swunginto a quick step. 

The rifles on the hill by the Hall were speaking faster and faster now. A white cloud hid the Hall and the trees, thickening and spreading as avolley of musketry sent its smoke gushing into the bushes. Then, in thedun-colored fog, a red flame darted out, splitting the air with adeafening crash, and the thunder-clap of the cannon-shot shook theearth under our hurrying feet. 

We were close to the Hall now. Behind a hedge fence running east ourmilitia lay, firing very coolly into the wavering mists, through whichtwinkled the ruddy rifle-flames of the enemy. The roar of the firingwas swelling, dominated by the tremendous concussions of thefield-piece. I saw officers riding like mounted phantoms through thesmoke; dead men in green, dead men in scarlet, and here and there adead Mohawk lay in the hedge. A wounded officer of Massachusettsinfantry passed us, borne away to the village by Schoharic militia. 

As we started for the hedge on a double, suddenly, through the smoke, the other side of the hedge swarmed with men. They were everywhere, crashing through the thicket, climbing the fence, pouring forward withshouts and hurrahs. Then the naked form of an Indian appeared; another, another; the militia, disconcerted and surprised, struck at them withtheir gunstocks, wavered, turned, and ran toward us. 

I had already deployed my right into line; the panic-stricken militiacame heading on as we opened to let them through; then we closed up; asheet of flame poured out into the very faces of Butler's Rangers;another, another!

Bolt upright in the stirrups, I lifted my smoking rifle: "Rangers!Charge!"

Beneath my plunging horse a soldier in green went down screaming; anIndian darted past, falling to death under a dozen clubbed rifles; thena yelling mass of green-coated soldiers, forced and crushed back intothe hedge, turned at bay; and into this writhing throng leaped myriflemen, hatchets flashing. 

"Hold that hedge, Captain Renault!" came a calm voice near me, and Isaw Colonel Willett at my elbow, struggling with his frantic horse. 

A mounted officer near him cried: "The rest of the militia on the rightare wavering, Colonel!"

"Then stop them, Captain Zielie!" said Willett, dragging his horse to astand. His voice was lost in the swelling roar of the fusillade wheremy Rangers were holding the hedge. On the extreme right, through anopen field, I saw the militia scattering, darting about wildly. Therecame a flash, a roar, and the scene was blotted out in a huge fountainof flame and smoke. 

"They've blown up the ammunition-wagon! Butler's men have taken ourcannon!" yelled a soldier, swinging his arms frantically. "Oh, my God!the militia are running from the field!"

It was true. One of those dreadful and unaccountable panics had seizedthe militia. Nothing could stop them. I saw Colonel Willett spurforward, sword flashing; officers rode into the retreating lines, begging and imploring them to stand. The pressure on my riflemen wasenormous, and I ordered them to fall back by squads in circles to thefringe of woods. They obeyed very coolly and in perfect order, retiringstep by step, shot by shot. 

Massachusetts infantry were holding the same woods; a few Tryon militiarallied to us, and Colonel Gray took command. "For God's sake, Renault, go and help Willett stop the militia!" he begged. "I'll hold thiscorner till you can bring us aid!"

I peered about me through the smoke, gathered bridle, wheeled throughthe bushes into the open field, and hurled my horse forward along theline of retreat. 

Never had I believed brave men could show such terror. Nobody heededme, nobody listened. At my voice they only ran the faster, I gallopingalongside, beseeching them, and looking for Willett. 

Straight into the streets of Johnstown fled the militia, crowding thetown in mad and shameless panic, carrying with them their mountedofficers, as a torrent hurls chips into a whirlpool. 

"Halt! In Heaven's name, what is the matter? Why, you had them on therun, you men of Tryon, you Ulster men!" cried Colonel Willett. 

A seething mass of fugitives was blocked at the old stone church. Intothem plunged the officers, cursing, threatening, imploring, I amongthem, my horse almost swept from his legs in the rushing panic. 

"Don't run, lads, " I said; "don't put us all to this shame! Why, whatare you afraid of? I saw nothing to scare a child on the hill. And thisis my first battle. I thought war was something to scare a man. Butthis is nothing. You wouldn't leave the Rangers there all alone, wouldyou? They're up there drilling holes in the Indians who came to murderyour wives and children. Come on, boys! You didn't mean it. We can'tlet those yagers and Greens take a cannon as easily as that!"

They were listening to Willett, too; here and there a sergeant took upthe pleading. I found an exhausted drummer-boy sitting on the steps ofthe church, and induced him to stand up and beat the assembly. Officerafter officer struggled through the mob, leading out handfuls of men;lines formed; I snatched a flag from an ensign and displayed it; acompany, at shoulder arms, headed by a drummer, emerged from the chaos, marching in fair alignment; another followed more steadily; line afterline fell in and paraded; the fifes began to squeal, and the shrillquickstep set company after company in motion. 

"It's all right, lads!" cried Willett cheerily, as he galloped forward. "We are going back for that cannon we lost by mistake. Come on, youTryon County men! Don't let the Rangers laugh at you!"

Then the first cheer broke out; mounted officers rode up, baring theirswords, surrounding the Colonel. He gave me a calm and whimsical look, almost a smile:

"Scared, Carus?"

"No, sir. "

"D'ye hear that firing to the left? Well, that's Rowley's flankingcolumn of levies and the Massachusetts men. Hark! Listen to that riflemusic! Now we'll drive them! Now we've got them at last!"

I caught him by the sleeve, and bent forward from my saddle:

"Do you know that the woman I am to marry is with the enemy?" Idemanded hoarsely. 

"No. Good God, Carus! Have they got her?"

His shocked face paled; he laid his hand on my shoulder, riding insilence as I told him what I knew. 

"By Heaven!" he said, striking his gloved hands together, "we'll gether yet, Carus; I tell you, we'll get her safe and sound. Do you thinkI mean to let these mad wolves slink off this time and skulk awayunpunished? Do you suppose I don't know that the time has come to purgethis frontier for good and all of Walter Butler? You need not worry, Carus. It is true that God alone could have foreseen the strange panicthat started these militiamen on a run, as though they had neversmelled powder--as though they had not answered a hundred alarms fromOriskany to Currietown. I could not foresee that, but, by God, we'vestopped it! And now I tell you we are going to deal Walter Butler ablow that will end his murdering career forever! Look sharp!"

A racket of rifle-fire broke out ahead; two men dropped. 

We were in the smoke now. Indians rose from every thicket and leapedaway in retreat; the column broke into a run, mounted officers trottingforward, pistol and sword in hand. 

"Why, there's our cannon, boys!" cried Colonel Lewis excitedly. 

A roar greeted the black Colonel's words; the entire line sprangforward; a file of Oneidas sped along our flanks, rifles a-trail. 

Through the smoke I saw the Hall now, and in a field to the east of ita cannon which some Highlanders and soldiers in green uniforms wereattempting to drag off. 

At the view the yelling onset was loosed; the kilted troops and thegreen-coated soldiers took to their legs, and I saw our militiaswarming around the field-piece, hugging it, patting it, embracing it, while from the woods beyond my Rangers cheered and cheered. Ah! now themilitia were in it again; the hedge fence was carried with a rush, andall around us in the red sunset light shouting militia, Royal Greens, and naked, yelling Indians were locked in a death struggle, hatchet, knife, and rifle-butt playing their silent and awful part. 

An officer in a scarlet coat galloped at me full tilt, snapped hispistol as he passed, wheeled, and attempted to ride me down at hissword's point, but Colonel Willett pistoled him as I parried his thrustwith my rifle-barrel; and I saw his maddened horse bearing him away, heswaying horridly in his saddle, falling sidewise, and striking theground, one spurred heel entangled in his stirrup. 

Sickened, I turned away, and presently sounded the rally for myRangers. For full twenty minutes militia and riflemen poured sheets ofbullets into the Royal Greens from the hedge fence; their flankdoubled, wavered, and broke as the roaring fire of Rowley's men drewnearer. Twilight fell; redder and redder leaped the rifle-flamesthrough the smoky dusk. Suddenly their whole line gave way, and webroke through--riflemen, militia, Massachusetts men--broke through witha terrific yell. And before us fled Indian and Tory, yager andrenegade, Greens, Rangers, Highlanders, officers galloping madly, baggage-wagons smashed, horses down, camp trampled to tatters andsplinters as the vengeance of Tryon County passed in a tornado of furythat cleansed the land forever of Walter Butler and his demons of theNorth!

In that furious onslaught through the darkness and smoke, whereprisoners were being taken, Indians and Greens chased and shot down, asteady flicker of rifle-fire marked the course of the disastrous rout, and the frenzied vengeance following--an awful vengeance now, for, inthe blackness, a new and dreadful sound broke--the fiercely melancholyscalp-yell of my Oneidas!

Galloping across a swampy field, where the dead and scalped lay in theooze, I shouted the Wolf Clan challenge; and a lone cry answered me, coming nearer, nearer, until in the smoke-shot darkness I saw theterrific painted shape of an Indian looming, saluting me with upliftedand reeking hatchet. 

"Brother! brother!" I groaned, "by the Wolf whose sign we wear, and bythe sign of Tharon, follow her who is to be my wife--follow by night, by day, through the haunts of men, through the still places! Goswiftly, O my brother the Otter--swiftly as hound on trail! I chargeyou by that life you owe, by that clan tie which breaks not whennations break, by the sign of Tharon, that floats among the starsforever, find me this woman whom I am to wed! Your life for hers, Obrother! Go!"

CHAPTER XV

BUTLER'S FORD

For four breathless days the broad, raw trail of a thousand men inheadlong flight was the trampled path we traveled. Smashing straightthrough the northern wilderness, our enemy with horses, wagons, batmen, soldiers, Indians burst into the forest, tearing saplings, thickets, underbrush aside in their mad northward rush for the safety of theCanadas and the shelter denied them here. Threescore Oneida hatchetsglittered in their rear; four hundred rifles followed; for the RedBeast was in flight at last, stricken, turning now and again to snarlwhen the tireless, stern-faced trackers drew too near, then running onagain, growling, impotent. And the Red Beast must be done to death. 

What fitter place to end him than here in the wild twilight of shaggydepths, unlighted by the sun or moon?--here where the cold, brawlingstreams smoked in the rank air; where black crags crouched, watchingthe hunting--here in these awful deeps, shunned by the deer, unhauntedby wolf and panther--depths fit only for the monstrous terror that cameout of them, and now, wounded, and cold heart pulsing terror, wasscrambling back again into the dense and dreadful twilight of eternalshadow-land. 

One by one their pack-laden horses fell out exhausted; and we foundthem, heads hanging, quivering and panting beside the reeking trail;one by one their gaunt cattle, mired in bog and swamp, entangled inwindfalls, greeted us, bellowing piteously as we passed. The forestitself fought for us, reaching out to jerk wheels from axle, bringingwagon and team down crashing. Their dead lay everywhere uncared for, even unscalped and unrobbed in the bruised and trampled path of flight;clothing, arms, provisions were scattered pell-mell on every side; andnow at length, hour after hour, as we headed them back from trail andhighway, and blocked them from their boats at Oneida Lake, driving, forcing, scourging them straight into the black jaws of a hungrywilderness, we began to pass their wounded--ghastly, bloody, raggedthings, scarce animate, save for the dying brilliancy of their hollowedeyes. 

On, on, hotfoot through the rain along the smoking trail; twilight byday, depthless darkness by night, where we lay panting in starlessobscurity, listening to the giant winds of the wilderness--vast, resistless, illimitable winds flowing steadily through the unseen andnaked crests of forests, colder and ever colder they blew, heraldingthe trampling blasts of winter, charging us from the north. 

On the fifth day it began to snow at dawn. Little ragged flakeswinnowed through the clusters of scarlet maple-leaves, sifted among theblack pines, coming faster and thicker, driving in slanting, whirlingflight across the trail. In an hour the moss was white; crimson spraysof moose-bush bent, weighted with snow and scarlet berries; thehurrying streams ran dark and somber in their channels betweendead-white banks; swamps turned blacker for the silvery setting; theflakes grew larger, pelting in steady, thickening torrents from theclouds as we came into a clearing called Jerseyfield, on the north sideof Canada Creek; and here at last we were met by a crackling roar froma hundred rifles. 

The Red Beast was at bay!

Up and down, through the dense snowy veil descending, the orange-tintedrifle-flames flashed and sparkled and flickered; all around us a showerof twigs and branches descended in a steady rain. Then our brown riflesblazed their deadly answer. Splash! spatter! splash! their dead droppedinto the stream; and, following, dying and living took to the darkwater, thrashing across through snowy obscurity. I heard their horseswallowing through the fords, iron hoofs frantically battering therocky, shelving banks for foothold; I heard them shriek when the Oneidatigers leaped upon them; I heard their wounded battling and screamingas they drowned in the swollen waters!

We lay and fired at their phantom lines, now attempting to retreat at adog-trot in single file; and as we knocked man after man from theplodding rank the others leaped over their writhing, fallen comrades, neither turning nor pausing in their dogged flight. The snow slackened, falling more thinly to the west; and, as the dazzling curtain grewtransparent, a mass of men in green suddenly rose from the whitenedhemlock-scrub and fired at our riflemen arriving in column. 

Then ensued a scene nigh indescribable. With one yelling bound, Rangerand Oneida were on them, shooting, stabbing, dragging them down; and, as they broke cover, their mounted officers, dashing out of thethicket, wheeled northward into galloping flight; and among them atlast I saw my enemy, and knew him. 

A dozen Oneidas were after him. His horse, spurred to a gallop, crashedthrough the brush, and was in the water at a leap; and he turned inmidstream and shook his pistol at them insultingly. 

By Heaven, he rode superbly as the swollen waters of the ford boiled tohis horse's straining shoulders, while the bullets clipped the gildedcocked-hat from his head and struck his raised pistol from his hand. 

"Head him!" shouted Elerson; "don't let that man get clear!" Indiansand Rangers raced madly along the bank of the creek, pacing thefugitive as he galloped. 

"Take him alive!" I cried, as Butler swung his horse with a crashstraight into the willow thickets on the north. We lost him to view asI spoke; and I sounded the rally-whistle, and ran up the bank of thecreek, leading my horse at a trot behind me. 

The snowfall had ceased; the sun glimmered, then blazed out in theclearing, flooding the whitened ground with a dazzling radiance. Running, stumbling, falling, struggling through brush and brake andbrier-choked marsh, I saw ahead of me three Oneida Indians swiftlycross my path to the creek's edge and crouch, scanning the oppositeshore. Almost immediately the Rangers Murphy, Renard, and Elersonemerged from the snowy bushes beside them; and at the same instant Isaw Walter Butler ride up on the opposite side of the creek, glancebackward, then calmly draw bridle in plain sight. He was fey; I knewit. His doom was upon him. He flung himself from his horse close to theford where, set in the rock, a living spring of water mirrored the sun;then he knelt down, drew his tin cup from his belt, bent over, andlooked into the placid silver pool. What he saw reflected there Christalone knows, for he sprang back, passed his hand across his eyes, andreached out his cup blindly, plunging it deep into the water. 

Never, never shall I forget that instant picture as it broke upon myview; my deadly enemy kneeling by the spring, black hair disheveled, the sunshine striking his tin cup as he raised it to his lips; thethree naked Oneidas, in their glistening scarlet paint, eagerly raisingtheir rifles, while the merciless weapons of Murphy and Elerson slowlyfell to the same level, focused on that kneeling figure across the darkwaters of the stream. 

A second only, then, God knows why, I could not endure to witness ajustice so close allied with murder, and sprang forward, crying out:"Cease fire! Take him alive!" But, with the words half-sped, flameafter flame parted from those leveled muzzles; and through the whirlingsmoke I saw Walter Butler fall, roll over and over, his body and limbscontracting with agony; then on all fours again, on his knees, only tosink back in a sitting posture, his head resting on his hand, bloodpouring between his fingers. 

Into the stream plunged an Oneida, rifle and knife aloft, glittering inthe sun. The wounded man saw him coming, and watched him as he leapedup the bank; and while Walter Butler looked him full in the face thesavage trembled, crouching, gathering for a leap. 

"Stop that murder!" I shouted, plunging into the ford as Butler, achinghead still lifted, turned a deathly face toward me. One eye had beenshot out, but the creature was still alive, and knew me--knew me, heardme ask for the quarter he had not asked for; saw me coming to save himfrom his destiny, and smiled as the Oneida sprang on him with a yelland ripped the living scalp away before my sickened eyes. 

"Finish him, in God's mercy!" bellowed the Ranger Sammons, running up. The Oneida's hatchet, swinging like lightning, flashed once; and thesevered soul of Walter Butler was free of the battered, disfiguredthing that lay oozing crimson in the trampled snow. 

Dead! And I heard the awful scalp-yell swelling from the throats ofthose who had felt his heavy hand. Dead! And I heard cheers from thosewhose loved ones had gone down to death to satiate his fury. And nowhe, too, was on his way to face those pale accusers waiting there towatch him pass--specters of murdered men, phantoms of women, whiteshapes of little children--God! what a path to the tribunal behindwhose thunderous gloom hell's own lightning flared!

As I gazed down at him the roar of the fusillade died away in my ears. I remembered him as I had seen him there at New York in our house, hisslim fingers wandering over the strings of the guitar, his dark eyesdrowned in melancholy. I remembered his voice, and the song he sang, haunting us all with its lingering sadness--the hopeless words, the sadair, redolent of dead flowers--doom, death, decay!

The thrashing and plunging of horses roused me. I looked around to seeColonel Willett ride up, followed by two or three mounted officers inblue and buff, pulling in their plunging horses. He looked down at thedead, studying the crushed face, the uniform, the blood-drenched snow. 

"Is that Butler?" he asked gravely. 

"Yes, " I said; and drew a corner of his cloak across the marred face. 

Nobody uncovered, which was the most dreadful judgment those silent mencould pass. 

"Scalped?" motioned Colonel Lewis significantly. 

"He belongs to your party, " observed Willett quietly. Then, lookingaround as the rifle-fire to the left broke out again: "The pursuit hasended, gentlemen. What punishment more awful could we leave them tothan these trackless solitudes? For I tell you that those few amongthem who shall attain the Canadas need fear no threat of hell in thelife to come, for they shall have served their turn. Sound the recall!"

I laid my hand upon his saddle, looking up into his face:

"Pardon, " I said, in a low voice; "_I_ must go on!"

"Carus! Carus!" he said softly, "have they not told you?"

"Told me?" I stared. "What? What--in the name of God?"

"She was taken when we struck their rear-guard at one o'clock thisafternoon! Was there no one to tell you, lad!"

"Unharmed?" I asked, steadying myself against his stirrup. 

"Faint with fatigue, brier-torn, in rags--his vengeance, but--_nothingworse_. That quarter-breed Montour attended her, supported her, struggled on with her through all the horrors of this retreat. He hadherded the Valley prisoners together, guarded by Cayugas. Theexecutioner lies dead a mile below, his black face in the water. Andhere _he_ lies!"

He swung his horse, head sternly averted. I flung myself into mysaddle. 

"This way, lad. She lies in a camp-wagon at headquarters, asleep, Ithink. Mount and your Oneida guard her. And the girl, Montour, liesstretched beside her, watching her as a dog watches a cradled child. "

The hunting-horns of the light infantry were sounding the recall as werode through the low brush of Jerseyfield, where the sunset sky wasaflame, painting the tall pines, staining the melting snow to palestcrimson. 

From black, wet branches overhead the clotted flakes fell, showering usas we came to the hemlock shelter where the camp-wagon stood. A fireburned there; before it crowded a shadowy group of riflemen; and oneamong them moved forward to meet me, touching his fur cap and pointing. 

As I reached the rough shelter of fringing evergreen Mount and LittleOtter stepped out; and I saw the giant forest-runner wink the tearsaway as he laid his huge finger across his lips. 

"She sleeps as sweetly as a child, " he whispered. "I told her you werecoming. Oh, sir, it will tear your heart out to see her small whitefeet so bruised, and the soft, baby hands of her raw at the wrists, where they tied her at night. .. . _Is_ he surely dead, sir, as theysay?"

"I saw him die, thank God!"

"That is safer for him, I think, " said Mount simply. "Will you comethis way, sir? Otter, fetch a splinter o' fat pine for a light. Mindthe wheel there, Mr. Renault--this way on tiptoe!"

He took the splinter-light from the Oneida, fixed it in a split stick, backed out, and turned away, followed by the Indian. 

At first I could not see, and set the burning stick nearer. Then, as Ibent over the rough wagon, I saw her lying there very white and still, her torn hands swathed with lint, her bandaged feet wrapped in furs. And beside her, stretched full length, lay Lyn Montour, awake, darkeyes fixed on mine. 

She smiled as she caught my eye; then something in my face sobered her. "He is dead?" she motioned with her lips. And my lips moved assent. 

Gravely, scarcely stirring, she reached up and unbound her hair, letting it down over her face. I understood, and, stepping to the fire, returned with a charred ember. She held out first one hand, then theother, and I marked the palms with the ashes, touched her forehead, herbreast, her feet. Thus, in the solemn presence of death itself, sheclaimed at the tribunal of the Most High the justice denied on earth, signing herself a widow with the ashes none but a wedded wife may dareto wear. 

Lower and lower burned the tiny torch, sank to a spark, and went out. The black curtains of obscurity closed in; redder and redder spread theglare from the camp-fire; crackling and roaring, the flames rose, tufted with smoke, through which a million sparks whirled upward, showering the void above. Dark shapes moved in the glow with a sparkleof spur and sword as they turned; the infernal light fell on the nakedbodies of Oneidas, sitting like demons, eyes blinking at the flames. And through the roar of the fire I heard their chanting undertone, monotonous, interminable, saluting their dead:

 "_Cover the White Throat at Carenay, Lest evil fall at Danascara, Lay the phantom away, Men of Thendara, Trails of Kayaderos And Adriutha Cover our loss! Tree of Oswaya, From Garoga To Caroga Cover the White Throat For the sake of the Silver Boat afloat In the Water of Light, O Tharon! This for the pledge of Aroronon Lest the Long House end And the Tree bend And our dead ascend in every trail And the Great League fail. Now by the brotherhood ye've sworn Let the Oneida mourn. _"

And I heard from the forest the deadened blows of mattock and spade, and saw the glimmer of burial torches; and, through the steady chantingof the Oneida, the solemn voice of the chaplain in prayer for dead andliving:

"Let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us. And establish Thou thework of our hands upon us--yea, the work of our hands, establish Thouit!"

 * * * * *

It lacked an hour to dawn when the harsh, stringy drums rolled from theforest and the smoky camp awoke; and I, keeping my vigil, there in theshadow where she lay, listening and bending above her, was aware of abandaged hand touching me--a feverish arm about my neck, drawing myhead lower, closer, till, in the darkness, my face lay on hers, and ourtremulous lips united. 

"Is all well, my beloved?"

"All is well. "

"And we part no more?"

"No more. "

Silence, then: "Why do they cheer so, Carus?"

"It is a lost soul they are speeding, child. "

"His?"

"Yes. "

She breathed feverishly, her little bandaged hands holding my face. "Lift me a little, Carus; I can not move my legs. Did you know heabandoned me to the Cayugas because I dared to ask his mercy for theinnocent? I think his reason was unseated when I came upon him there atJohnson Hall--so much of blood and death lay on his soul. His own menfeared him; and, Carus, truly I do not think he knew me else he hadnever struck me in that burst of rage, so that even the Cayugasinterposed--for his knife was in his hands. " She sighed, nestling closeto me in the rustling straw, and closed her eyes as the torches flaredand the horses were backed along the pole. 

In the ruddy light I saw Jack Mount approaching. He halted, touched hiscap, and smiled; then his blue eyes wandered to the straw where LynMontour lay, sleeping the stunned sleep of exhaustion; and into hisface a tenderness came, softening his bold mouth and reckless visage. 

"The Weasel drives, sir. Tim and Dave and I, we jog along to ease thewheels--if it be your pleasure, sir. We go by the soft trail. A weekshould see you and yours in Albany. The Massachusetts surgeon is hereto dress your sweet lady's hurts. Will you speak with him, Mr. Renault?"

I bent and kissed the bandaged hands, the hot forehead under thetangled hair, then whispering that all was well I went out into thegray dawn where the surgeon stood unrolling lint. 

"Those devils tied their prisoners mercilessly at night, " he said, "andthe scars may show, Mr. Renault. But her flesh is wholesome, and thetorn feet will heal--are healing now. Your lady will be lame. "

"For life?"

"Oh--perhaps the slightest limp--scarce to be noticed. And then again, she is so sound, and her blood so pure--who knows? Even such tenderlittle feet as hers may bear her faultlessly once more. Patience, Mr. Renault. "

He parted the hanging blankets and went in, emerging after a littlewhile to beckon me. 

"I have changed the dressing; the wounds are benign and healthy. Shehas some fever. The shock is what I fear. Go to her; you may do morethan I could. "

As the sun rose we started, the Weasel driving, I crouching at herside, her torn hands in mine; and beside us, Lyn Montour, watching JackMount as he strode along beside the wagon, a new angle to his cap, anew swagger in his step, and deep in his frank blue eyes a strangesmile that touched the clean, curling corners of his lips. 

"Look!" breathed Murphy, gliding along on the other side, "'tis the gayday f'r Jack Mount whin Lyn Montour's black eyes are on him--thebackwoods dandy!"

I looked down at Elsin. The fever flushed her cheeks. Into her facethere crept a beauty almost unearthly. 

"My darling, my darling!" I whispered fearfully, leaning close to her. Her eyes met mine, smiling, but in their altered brilliancy I saw sheno longer knew me. 

"Walter, " she said, laughing, "your melancholy suits me--yet love isanother thing. Go ask of Carus what it is to love! He has my soul boundhand and foot and locked in the wall there, where he keeps the lettershe writes. If they find those letters some man will hang. I think itwill be you, Walter, or perhaps Sir Peter. I'm love-sick--sick o'love--for Carus mocks me! Is it easy to die, Walter? Tell me, for youare dead. If only Carus loved me! He kissed me so easily that night--Itempting him. So now that I am damned--what matter how he uses me? Yethe never struck me, Walter, as you strike!"

Hour after hour, terrified, I listened to her babble, and that gaylittle laugh, so like her own, that broke out as her fever grew, waxingto its height. 

It waned at midday, but by sundown she grew restless, and the surgeon, Weldon, riding forward from the rear, took my place beside her, and Imounted my horse which Elerson led, and rode ahead, a deadly fear in myheart, and Black Care astride the crupper, a grisly shadow in thewilderness, dogging me remorselessly under pallid stars. 

And now hours, days, nights, sun, stars, moon, were all one tome--things that I heeded not; nor did I feel aught of heat or cold, sunor storm, nor know whether or not I slept or waked, so terrible grewthe fear upon me. Men came and went. I heard some say she was dying, some that she would live if we could get her from the wilderness sheraved about; for her cry was ever to be freed of the darkness and thesilence, and that they were doing me to death in New York town, whithershe must go, for she alone could save me. 

Tears seemed ever in my eyes, and I saw nothing clearly, only the blackand endless forests swimming in mists; the silent riflemen trudging on, the little withered driver, in his ring-furred cap and caped shirt, toobig for him; the stolid horses plodding on and on. Medical officerscame from Willett--Weldon and Jermyn--and the surgeon's mate, McLane;and they talked among themselves, glancing at her curiously, so that Igrew to hate them and their whispers. A fierce desire assailed me toput an end to all this torture--to seize her, cradle her to my breast, and gallop day and night to the open air--as though that, and thefierce strength of my passion must hold back death!

Then, one day--God knows when--the sky widened behind the trees, and Isaw the blue flank of a hill unchoked by timber. Trees grew thinner aswe rode. A brush-field girdled by a fence was passed, then a meadow, all golden in the sun. Right and left the forest sheered off and fellaway; field on field, hill on hill, the blessed open stretched to abrimming river, silver and turquoise in the sunshine, and, beyond it, crowning three hills, the haven!--the old Dutch city, high-roofed, red-tiled, glimmering like a jewel in the November haze--Albany!

And now, as we breasted the ascent, far away we heard drums beating. Awhite cloud shot from the fort, another, another, and after a longwhile the dull booming of the guns came floating to us, mixed with thenoise of bells. 

Elsin heard and sat up. I bent from my saddle, passing my arm aroundher. 

"Carus!" she cried, "where have you been through all this dreadfulnight?"

"Sweetheart, do you know me?"

"Yes. How soft the sunlight falls! There is a city yonder. I hearbells. " She sank down, her eyes on mine. 

"The bells of old Albany, dear. Elsin, Elsin, do you truly know me?"

She smiled, the ghost of the old gay smile, and her listless armsmoved. 

Weldon, riding on the other side, nodded to me in quiet content:

"Now all she lacked she may have, Renault, " he said, smiling. "All willbe well, thank God! Let her sleep!"

She heard him, watching me as I rode beside her. 

"It was only you I lacked, Carus, " she murmured dreamily; and, smiling, fell into a deep, sweet sleep. 

Then, as we rode into the first outlying farms, men and women came totheir gates, calling out to us in their Low Dutch jargon, and at firstI scarce heeded them as I rode, so stunned with joy was I to see hersleeping there in the sunlight, and her white, cool skin and her mouthsoft and moist. 

Gun on gun shook the air with swift concussion. The pleasant Dutchbells swung aloft in mellow harmony. Suddenly, far behind where ourinfantry moved in column, I heard cheer on cheer burst forth, and thehorns and fifes in joyous fanfare, echoed by the solid outbreak of thedrums. 

"What are they cheering for, mother?" I asked an old Dutch dame whowaved her kerchief at us. 

"For Willett and for George the Virginian, sir, " she said, dimpling anddropping me a courtesy. 

"George the Virginian?" I asked, wondering. "Do you mean hisExcellency?"

And still she dimpled and nodded and bobbed her white starched cap, andI made nothing of what she said until I heard men shouting, "Yorktown!"and "The war ends! Hurrah!"

"Hurrah! Hurrah!" shouted a mounted officer, spurring past us up thehill; "Butler's dead, and Cornwallis is taken!"

"Taken?" I repeated incredulously. 

The booming guns were my answer. High against the blue a jeweled ensignfluttered, silver, azure and blood red, its staff and halyards wrappedin writhing jets of snow-white smoke flying upward from the guns. 

I rode toward it, cap in hand, head raised, awed in the presence ofGod's own victory! The shouting streets echoed and reechoed as wepassed between packed ranks of townspeople; cheers, the pealing musicof the bells, the thunderous shock of the guns grew to a swimming, dreamy sound, through which the flag fluttered on high, crowned withthe golden nimbus of the sun!

"Carus!"

"Ah, sweetheart, did they wake you? Sleep on; the war is over!" Iwhispered, bending low above her. "Now indeed is all well with theworld, and fit once more for you to live in. "

And, as we moved forward, I saw her blue eyes lifted dreamily, watchingthe flag which she had served so well. 

CHAPTER XVI

THE END

That brief and lovely season which in our Northland for a score of dayschecks the white onset of the snow, and which we call the Indiansummer, bloomed in November when the last red leaf had fluttered to theearth. A fairy summer, for the vast arches of the skies burned sapphireand amethyst, and hill and woodland, innocent of verdure, were clothedin tints of faintest rose and cloudy violet; and all the world put on amagic livery, nor was there leaf nor stem nor swale nor tuft of mosstoo poor to wear some royal hint of gold, deep-veined or crustedlavishly, where the crested oaks spread, burnished by the sun. 

Snowbird and goldfinch were with us--the latter veiling his splendidtints in modest russet; and now, from the north, came to us silentflocks of birds, all gray and rose, outriders of winter's crystalcortège, still halting somewhere far in the silvery north, where thewhite owls sit in the firs, and the world lies robed in ermine. 

All through that mellow Indian summer my betrothed grew strong, and herhurts had nearly healed. And I, writing my letters by the open windowin the drawing-room, had been promised that she might make her firstessay to leave her chamber that day--sit in the outer sunshine perhaps, perhaps stand upright and take a step or two. And, at this first trystin the sunshine, she was to set our wedding day. 

From my open window I could see the city on its three hills against theazure magnificence of the sky, and the calm, wide river, still as agolden pond, and the white sails of sloops, becalmed on glassy surfacesreflecting the blue woods. 

A little stream ran foaming down to the river, passing the housethrough a lawn all starred with late-grown dandelions; and even yet thetrout were running up to the still sands of their breeding-nooksabove--great brilliant fish, spotted with flecks that glowed likeliving sparks; and now I looked to see if I might spy them pass, shooting the falls, gay in their bridal-dress of iridescent gems, wishing them good speed to their shadowy woodland tryst. 

Too deeply happy, too content to more than trifle with the letters Imust pen, I idled there, head on hand, listening for her I loved, watching the fair world in the sunshine there. Sometimes, smiling, Iunfolded for the hundredth time and read again the generous letter fromSir Peter and Lady Coleville--so kindly, so cordial, so honorable, allpatched with shreds of gossip of friend and foe, and how New York laystunned at the news of Yorktown. Never a word of the part that I hadplayed so long beneath their roof--only one grave, unselfish line, saying that they had heard me praised for my bearing at Johnstownbattle, and that they had always known that I could conduct in no wiseunworthy of a soldier. 

Too, they promised, if a flag was to be had, to come to Albany for ourwedding, saying we were wild and wilful, and needed chiding, promisingto read us lessons merited. 

And there was a ponderous letter from Sir Frederick Haldimand in answerto one I wrote telling him all--a strange mélange of rage at Butler'sperfidy and insolence, and utter disgust with me; though he said, frankly enough, that he would rather see his kinswoman wedded to twentyrebels than to one Butler. With which he slammed his pen to anungracious finish, ending with a complaint to heaven that the world hadused him so shabbily at such a time as this. 

Which sobered Elsin when I read it, she being the tenderest of heart;but I made her laugh ere the quick tears dried in her eyes, and she hadwritten him the loveliest of letters in reply, which was already on itsjourney northward. 

Writing to my father and mother of the happy news, I had not as yetreceived their approbation, yet knew it would come, though Elsin was alittle anxious when I spoke so confidently. 

Yet one more happiness was in store for me ere the greatest happinessof all arrived; for that morning, from Virginia, a little packet cameto Elsin; and opening it together, we found a miniature of hisExcellency, set in a golden oval, on which we read, inscribed: "Withgreat esteem, " and signed, "Geo. Washington. "

So, was it wonderful that I, sitting there, should listen, smiling, forsome sound above to warn me of her coming?

Never had sunshine on the gilded meadows lain so softly, never so pureand soft the aromatic air. And far afield I saw two figures moving, close together, often pausing to look upon the beauty of the sky andhills, then straying on like those who have found what they had soughtfor long ago--Jack Mount and Lyn Montour. 

And, as I leaned there in the casement, following them with smilingeyes, a faint sound behind me made me turn, start to my feet with acry. 

All alone she stood there, pale and lovely, blue eyes fixed on mine;and, at my cry, she took a little step, and then another, flushing withshy pride. 

"Carus! Sweetheart! Do you see?"

And at first she protested prettily as I caught her in my arms, liftingher in fear lest her knees give way, then smiled assent. 

"Bear me, if you will, " she breathed, her white arms tightening aboutmy neck; "carry me with all the burdens you have borne so long, mystrong, tall lover!--lest I dash my foot against a stone, and fall atyour feet to worship and adore! Here am I at last! Ah, what am I to sayto you? The day? Truly, do you desire to wed me still? Then listen;bend your head, adored of men, and I will whisper to you what my heartand soul desire. "

THE END