The Reckoning

  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 a 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'amitie est une chose si rare, que,n'eut-elle dure 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 youn
gfriend 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.

&nbs
p; 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 seance, 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 role 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 counc
il 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 a 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.