"The same, senor. It is good fortune which brings us together as guests of His Excellency the President," I replied, thinking to divert the conversation. It was in vain. "How?--What is this, senor? You know Dr. Robinson?" questioned Colonel Burr, his eyes sparkling not altogether pleasantly, and his lips tightening beneath their smile. Senor Vallois waved his hand for attention and proceeded, with much detail and elaboration, to recount my simple feat with the fence rails. In the midst entered the Honorable Henry Dearborn, the Secretary of War, to whom I had been introduced on the day of my arrival by Senator Adair. His curt nod of recognition forestalled an introduction by Mr. Jefferson, and the senor's account proceeded to the end without interruption. Mr. Jefferson and Colonel Burr were alike pleased to give the senor close attention. The former was first to make his comment,--"A friendly deed, and one seldom met with nowadays." Colonel Burr was not content so to spare my modesty. "Friendly!" he exclaimed, "friendly! Gallant is the word, sir! We read of Raleigh spreading his cloak for a queen. Here is an American gentleman who plunges into the mire to pry out a lady's coach, an act by far the more gallant!" He faced about to give me a knowing smile. "You saw the lady beckoning from the carriage window, and, of course, beauty in distress--" "_Santisima Virgen!_ My niece beckon to a stranger in the highway!" protested Senor Vallois, in a tone that would have compelled a far duller man than Colonel Burr to realize his mistake. "Your pardon, senor!" he hastened to explain. "A mere figure of speech. I infer that the lady looked out, and Dr. Robinson, chancing to see her--" "No, no, Colonel!" I broke in. "I cannot lay claim to the gallantry with which you would credit me. It was the needless lashing of the horses which prompted me to the action." "The more credit to your kindliness, sir," remarked Mr. Jefferson, with a heartiness which added to my embarrassment. The nod of assent and warm glance of General Dearborn in part consoled me for the stress of the situation. Whether the grave look of Senor Vallois indicated approval or disapproval of my disclaimer of gallantry I could not tell. But Colonel Burr was open in his protest. "What! what!" he cried. "Is this the manner of the coming generation? Have romance and gallantry fled with the peruke?" He looked from my loose, unpowdered curls to the Spaniard's costly wig. "Youth will have its day," said General Dearborn, offering him his snuff-box. Mr. Burr took a pinch with the affected elegance of a beau. The dose was of such strength that the sneeze which followed flapped the Colonel's queue and lifted a cloud of powder from his hair. The President, Senor Vallois, and myself having in turn declined the box, General Dearborn complemented the Colonel with a sneeze that stirred his own thin queue and powder.