I remember little of that dinner save that it differed vastly from the
quarrelsome carousal at which the Johnsons and Butlers figured in so
sinister a rôle, and at which the Glencoe captains disgraced themselves.
But now, if the patroon's wine lent new color to the fair faces round
me, there was no feverish laughter, nothing of brutal license. Healths
were given and drunk with all the kindly ceremony to which I had been
accustomed. At times pattering gusts of hand-clapping followed some
popular toast, such as "Our New Flag," to which General Schuyler
responded in perfect taste, veiling the deep emotions that the toast
stirred in many with graceful allegory tempered by modesty and
self-restraint.
At the former dinner I had had for my neighbors Dorothy and Magdalen
Brant. Now I sat between Miss Haldimand and Maddaleen Dirck, whom I had
for partner, a pretty little thing, who peppered her conversation with
fashionable New York phrases and spiced the intervals with French. And I
remember she assured me that New York was the only city fit to live in
and that she should never survive a prolonged transportation from that
earthly paradise of elegance and fashion. Which made me itch to
go there.
I think, without meaning any unkindness, that Miss Haldimand, the
Canadian beauty, was somewhat surprised that I had not already fallen a
victim to her lovely presence; but, upon reflection, set it down to my
stupidity; for presently she devoted her conversation exclusively to
Ruyven, whose delight and gratitude could not but draw a smile from
those who observed him. I saw Cecile playing the maiden's game with
young Paltz Clavarack, and Lady Schuyler on Sir Lupus's right,
charmingly demure, faintly amused, and evidently determined not to be
shocked by the free bluntness of her host.
The mischievous Carmichael twins had turned the batteries of their eyes
on two solemn, faultlessly dressed subalterns, and had already reduced
them to the verge of capitulation; and busy, bustling Dr. Sleeper
cracked witticisms with all who offered him the fee of their attention,
and the dinner went very well.
Radiant, beautiful beyond word or thought, Dorothy sat, leaning back in
her chair, and the candle-light on the frosty-gold of her hair and on
her bare arms and neck made of her a miracle of celestial loveliness.
And it was pleasant to see the stately General on her right bend beside
her with that grave gallantry which young girls find more grateful than
the privileged badinage of old beaus. At moments her sweet eyes stole
towards me, and always found mine raised to greet her with that silent
understanding which brought the faintest smile to her quiet lips. Once,
above the melodious hum of voices, the word "war" sounded distinctly,
and General Schuyler said:
"In these days of modern weapons of precision and long range, conflicts
are doubly deplorable. In the times of the old match-locks and
blunderbusses and unwieldly weapons weighing more than three times what
our modern light rifles weigh, there was little chance for slaughter.
But now that we have our deadly flint-locks, a battle-field will be a
sad spectacle. Bunker Hill has taught the whole world a lesson that
might not be in vain if it incites us to rid the earth of this wicked
frenzy men call war."
"General," said Sir Lupus, "if weapons were twenty times as quick and
deadly--which is, of course, impossible, thank God!--there would always
be enough men in the world to get up a war, and enjoy it, too!"
"I do not like to believe that," said Schuyler, smiling.
"Wait and see," muttered the patroon. "I'd like to live a hundred years
hence, just to prove I'm right."
"I should rather not live to see it," said the General, with a twinkle
in his small, grave eyes.
Then quietly the last healths were given and pledged; Dorothy rose, and
we all stood while she and Lady Schuyler passed out, followed by the
other ladies; and I had to restrain Ruyven, who had made plans to follow
Marguerite Haldimand. Then we men gathered once more over our port and
walnuts, conversing freely, while the fiddles and bassoons tuned up from
the hallway, and General Schuyler told us pleasantly as much of the
military situation as he desired us to know. And it did amuse me to
observe the solemn subalterns nodding all like wise young owlets, as
though they could, if they only dared, reveal secrets that would
astonish the General himself.
Snuff was passed, offered, and accepted with ceremony befitting; spirits
replaced the port, but General Schuyler drank sparingly, and his
well-trained suite perforce followed his example. So that when it came
time to rejoin our ladies there was no evidence of wandering legs, no
amiably vacant laughter, no loud voices to strike the postprandial
discord at the dance or at the card-tables.
"How did I conduct, cousin?" whispered Ruyven, arm in arm with me as we
entered the long drawing-room. And my response pleasing him, he made off
straight towards Marguerite Haldimand, who viewed his joyous arrival
none too cordially, I thought. Poor Ruyven! Must he so soon close the
gate of Eden behind him?--leaving forever his immortal boyhood sleeping
amid the never-fading flowers.
It was a fascinating and alarming spectacle to see Sir Lupus walking a
minuet with Lady Schuyler, and I marvelled that the gold buttons on his
waistcoat did not fly off in volleys when he strove to bend what once,
perhaps, had been his waist.
Ceremony dictated what we had both forgotten, and General Schuyler led
out Dorothy, who, scarlet in her distress, looked appealingly at me to
see that I understood. And I smiled back to see her sweet face brighten
with gratitude and confidence and a promise to make up to me what the
stern rule of hospitality had deprived us of.
So it was that I had her for the Sir Roger de Coverley, and after that
for a Delaware reel, which all danced with a delightful abandon, even
Miss Haldimand unbending like a goddess surprised to find a pleasure in
our mortal capers. And it was a pretty sight to see the ladies pass,
gliding daintily under the arch of glittering swords, led by Lady
Schuyler and Dorothy in laughing files, while the fiddle-bows whirred,
and the music of bassoon and hautboys blended and ended in a final
mellow crash. Then breathless voices rose, and skirts swished and French
heels tapped the polished floor and solemn subalterns stalked about
seeking ices and lost buckles and mislaid fans; and a faint voice said,
"Oh!" when a jewelled garter was found, and a very red subaltern said,
"Honi soit!" and everybody laughed.
Presently I missed the General, and, a moment later, Dorothy. As I stood
in the hallway, seeking for her, came Cecile, crying out that they were
to have pictures and charades, and that General Schuyler, who was to be
a judge, awaited me in the gun-room.
The door of the gun-room was closed. I tapped and entered.
The General sat at the mahogany table, leaning back in his arm-chair;
opposite sat Dorothy, bare elbows on the table, fingers clasped.
Standing by the General, arms folded, Jack Mount loomed a colossal
figure in his beaded buckskins.
[Illustration: "JACK MOUNT LOOMED A COLOSSAL FIGURE IN HIS BEADED
BUCKSKINS".]
"Ah, Mr. Ormond!" said the General, as I closed the door quietly behind
me; "pray be seated. They are to have pictures and charades, you know; I
shall not keep Miss Dorothy and yourself very long."