As Sevier faced him in the comfortable living-room of the big house it was without the prejudices of many contemporaries. As McGillivray stood by the table and rested the tips of his long, tapering fingers on the polished board, his spare six feet of muscle gracefully inclined toward his “guest,” his smooth, dark handsome face portraying only solicitude for the comfort of his new acquaintance, Sevier knew he was in the presence of a gentleman. After Sevier had seated himself McGillivray tapped a bell and gave an order to the half-breed servant. Wine and cakes were brought. All that surrounded the man reflected the opulence resulting from a partnership with Panton, Forbes and Leslie, whose importations yearly ran to nearly a quarter of a million of dollars. And yet this atmosphere of well-being contained no suggestion of the garish. The impression was that the house of McGillivray always had enjoyed a king’s income. Sinking into a chair across from Sevier, the emperor studied the borderer with courteous curiosity. Then, raising his glass, he gave— “To your good health and—discretion.” “I thank you. The last is proven by my seeking you in a time of great need,” said Sevier. McGillivray’s dark eyes became luminous. “Ha!” he softly exclaimed. “If you come for assistance you can count on McGillivray of the Creeks to the hilt.” “Not so fast,” restrained Sevier. “The need I speak of is yours as well as mine.” “I don’t understand you,” McGillivray coldly replied. “I know of no personal embarrassment. The Emperor of the Creeks often gives aid. He has never received any.” “A crisis faces the Western settlements and the Creeks. Your nation can not advance if my people go down.” McGillivray sprang to his feet and tossed back his dark hair, snapping his long fingers impatiently and darting angry, yet curious, glances at the imperturbable borderer. “What kind of talk is this for you to bring to me, a McGillivray of the McGillivrays, Emperor of the Creek Nation?” “It is because you are what you are that I bother to fetch my talk. I come to the one man in the New World Spain leans on for support. Without you Spain would fall to the ground in this Western country.” The emperor’s irritation vanished, his fierce visage softened. Such homage was very sweet, coming from John Sevier’s lips. He nodded affably. He had reminded Spain of his own importance in his various consultations with the royal governor, Don Estephan Miro. “I believe his Majesty, Charles III, appreciates my services,” he frankly agreed. “Our treaty of six weeks ago would seem to indicate that much.” “Could I have seen you before June first I would have urged you not to sign that secret treaty.” Leaning across the table, his face alive with resentment, McGillivray hoarsely warned: