Part 15 (1/2)
No amends are necessary. I a.s.sure you that I shall endeavor to so conduct that in future neither you nor any man may misapprehend my motives.” He glanced coolly across at Sir Henry, then very pleasantly spoke of the coming rout at the Fort, expressing pleasure in gaiety and dancing.
”I love music, too,” he said thoughtfully, ”but have heard little for a year save the bellow of conch-horns from the rebel riflemen of Morgan's corps.”
Mr. De Lancey had come up, moved by the inbred courtesy which distinguished not Sir Henry, who ostentatiously held Sir Peter in forced consultation, his shoulder turned to Walter Butler. And, of the twain, Mr. Butler cut the better figure, and spite of his true character, I was secretly gratified to see how our Tryon County gentry suffered nothing in comparison of savoir faire with the best that England sent us. Courtesy to an enemy--that is a creed no gentleman can renounce save with his t.i.tle. I speak not of disputes in hot blood, but of a chance meeting upon neutral ground; and Sir Henry was no credit to his t.i.tle and his country in his treatment there of Walter Butler.
One by one all spoke to Mr. Butler; laughter among us broke out as wine was served and compliments exchanged.
”The hardest lesson man is born to is that lesson which teaches him to await 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 down at the piano and played ”The World Turned Upside-Down,” all drifting into the singing, voice after voice; and the beauty of Walter Butler's voice struck all, so that presently, one by one, we fell silent, and he alone carried the quaint old melody to its end.
”I have a guitar hereabouts,” blurted out Sir Peter, motioning a servant.
The instrument was brought, and Walter Butler received it without false modesty or wearying protestation, and, touching it dreamily, he sang:
”Ninon! Ninon! Que fais-tu de la vie?
L'heure s'enfuit, le jour succede au jour, Rose, ce soir--demain fletrie Comment vis-tu, toi qui n'as pas d'amour?
Ouvrez-vous, jeunes fleurs Si la mort vous enleve, La vie est un sommeil, l'amour en est le reve!”
Sad and sweet the song faded, lingering like perfume, as the deep concord of the strings died out. All were moved. We pressed him to sing more, and he sang what we desired in perfect taste and with a simplicity that fascinated all.
I, too, stood motionless under the spell, yet struggling to think of what I had heard of the nearness of his Excellency to New York, and how I might get word to him at once concerning the Oneidas' danger and the proposed attempt upon the frontier granaries. The ladies had as yet given no sign of readiness; all present, even Sir Henry, stood within a circle around Walter Butler. So I stepped quietly into the hallway and hastened up the stairs to my chamber, which I locked first, then seized paper and quill and fell to scribbling:
”TO HIS EXCELLENCY, GEN'L WAs.h.i.+NGTON:
”_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 copying furiously. And at length it was accomplished, and I wrapped up the letters in a box of snuff, tied and sealed the packet, and called Dennis.
”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 I heard the voices of the ladies on the landing below, so quickly opening my wainscot niche I thrust the dangerous paper within, closed the panel, and hastened away down-stairs to avoid comment for my absence.
In the merry company now a.s.sembled below I could scarcely have been missed, I think, for the Italian chaises had but just that moment appeared to bear us away to the Fort, and the gentlemen were cl.u.s.tered about Lady Coleville, who, encircled by a laughing bevy of pretty women, was designating chaise-partners, reading from a list she held in her jeweled hands. Those already allotted to one another had moved apart, standing two and two, and as I entered the room I saw Walter Butler give his arm to Rosamund Barry at Lady Coleville's command, a fixed smile hiding his disappointment, which turned to a white grimace as 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 twenty court-swords ready here to ask the reason why. Sir Henry, will you take me as your penance?”
”Now, gentlemen,” cried Sir Peter gaily, ”the chaises are here; and please to remember that there is no Kissing-Bridge between Wall Street and 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 enough to steal one's heart away?”