ker" and "John O'Bail," until more ale was fetched and a cup
handed 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 "He
doesn't know." "Where's the 'Gazette'?" "Show him the 'Gazette'!"

The stolid landlord picked up a newspaper from a table, spread it
deliberately, drew his horn spectacles from his pocket, wiped them,
adjusted them, and read aloud a notice of my commission from Governor
Clinton to be a senior captain in the Tryon County Rangers. Utterly
unprepared, dumb with astonishment, I stared at him through the
swelling din. Somebody thrust the paper at me. I read the item, mug in
one 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 our
Governor has done me is incomprehensible to me. What experience have I
to lead such veterans?--men of Morgan's, men of Hand's, men of
Saratoga, of Oriska, of Stillwater?--I who have never laid rifle in
anger--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 to
render has made me worthy, else this commission had been an affront to
the Rangers of Tryon County. And so, my brothers, that I may not shame
you, I ask two things: obedience to orders; respect for my rank; and if
you render not respect to my character, that will be my fault, not your
own."

I raised my pewter: "The sentiment I give you is: 'The Rangers! My
honor 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 me
to have no fear, that they would aid me, that they would be obedient
and good--a mob of uproarious, overgrown children, swayed by sentiment
entirely. And I even saw the watchman, maudlin already, dancing all by
himself in a corner, and waving pike and lanthorn in martial fervor.

"Lads," I said, raising my hand for silence, "there is ale here for the
asking, 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,