ts his
clothes respects himself. I know no sin in trying to please the eyes of
others and incidentally myself. I note, Tayoga, that on occasion you
array yourself with great splendor, and that, at all times, you're very
particular about your attire."

"It is so, Dagaeoga. I spoke in terms of approval, not of criticism. Are
you satisfied with yourself?"

"As much as possible under the circumstances. If I could achieve the
change merely by making a wish I'd have the coat and breeches of a
somewhat richer hue, and the buckles on the shoes considerably larger,
but they'll do. Shall we sit here and rest until Caterina calls us for
supper?"

"I think so, Dagaeoga."

But it was not long until the summons came, and they went into the great
dining-room, where the elder company was already gathered. Besides Mr.
Huysman, Benjamin Hardy, Jonathan Pillsbury, and Alexander McLean, there
were Nicholas Ten Broeck and Oliver Suydam, two of Albany's most solid
burghers, and Alan Hervey, another visitor from New York, a thin man of
middle years and shrewd looks, whom Robert took to be a figure in
finance and trade. All the elders seemed to know one another well, and
to be on the best of terms.

Robert and Tayoga were presented duly, and made their modest
acknowledgments, sitting together near the end of the table.

"These lads, young as they are," said Master Jacobus Huysman, "have had
much experience of the present war. One of them was a prisoner of the
French at Ticonderoga and saw the whole battle, while the other fought
in it. Before that they were in innumerable encounters and other perils,
usually with the great hunter, David Willet, of whom you all know, and
who, I regret, is not here."

"It is no more than thousands of others have done," said Robert,
blushing under his tan.

Hervey regarded him and Tayoga with interest. The Onondaga was in full
Indian dress, but Albany was used to the Iroquois, and that fact was not
at all exceptional.

"War is a terrible thing," he said, "and whether a nation is or is not
to endure depends very much upon its youth."

"We always think that present youth is inferior to what our own youth
was," said Mr. Hardy. "That, I believe, is a common human failing. But
Master McLean ought to know. Forty years of youth, year after year have
passed through his hands. What say you, Alexander?"

"Youth is youth," replied the schoolmaster, weighing his sentences, "and
by those words I mean exactly wh