“And lived to come here? Why not?” And Sevier smiled serenely. “I told Old Tassel I was bringing a talk to you. He is anxious to learn how it results.” McGillivray played with his glass, his gaze following the light darting through the rich depths, his astute mind seeking to unravel the true import of the borderman’s astounding assertions. Suspicions of double-dealing on Watts’ part came and went, more of a suggestion than a suspicion, for he knew Watts’ implacable determination to have done with the Western settlements. The chief of the Chickamaugas could not change. But there was a mystery in Sevier’s living to leave the town once he had entered it. “I’ll admit Watts would not receive my talk as I had hoped,” Sevier frankly confessed. “He even showed resentment.” McGillivray smiled. “But Old Tassel was deeply impressed.” The emperor frowned. “Old Tassel should be called Old Woman,” he muttered. “What was your talk?” “I told him if he would hold his warriors back from war I would promise to keep the whites from any further trespass on the lands south of the French Broad and the Holston. I told him that an alliance with Spain, through the Creeks, would surely ruin the Cherokee Nation.” “Anything else?” whispered McGillivray, setting down his untasted glass. “I told him if he made a war-treaty with the Creeks he would lose many warriors and gain nothing. I told him that even if he could kill off all the settlers he would gain nothing, as in the end the Creeks would take his lands.” “Mr. Sevier,” murmured McGillivray, “why are you so foolish as to tell me all this?” Sevier knew that while McGillivray would not countenance unnecessary bloodshed he would never permit any one man to stand between him and the ambition of his life. Still he continued: “Because Watts dared me to tell the talk to you, and because I told him and Old Tassel that I would do it. But I have more to add.” “I am sorry for you. Go on.” “I wish to tell you, as I told the Cherokees, that the future of the Creek Nation does not depend on the friendship of Spain; that your treaty of last June is with the same people who made slaves of you in the past. And I tell you now, Alexander McGillivray, Emperor of the Creeks, that if you have the best interests of your nation at heart you will cast off this intrigue with Spain and make peace with the central Government.” McGillivray threw back his head and laughed long and discordantly. “A border-leader turned missionary!” he jeered. “Why, man, I was getting angry at you! Your insolence blinded me to the absurdity of it all. Still, I admire you for going to Great Hiwassee. But when you mention the central Government you remind me that facts are facts. Your Government. Where is it? What can it do? Can it sail a boat on the Mississippi? Can it send its goods to New Orleans? Does it resent any action of Spain’s? Or does it meekly bow the head?” Sevier restrained himself and evenly retorted: