"Forgive me, Jack. My father wears two gold rings in his ears. Your father wore them on his fingers. I know I am a boor until your kindness makes me forget it." I said quietly: "We are two comrades and friends to liberty. It is not what we are born to but what we are that matters a copper penny in the world." "It is easy for you to say so." "It is important for you to believe so. As I do." "Do you really so?" he asked with that winning upward glance that revealed his boyish faith in me. "I really do, Nick; else, perhaps, I had been with Guy Johnson in Canada long ago." "Then I shall try to believe it, too," he murmured, "--whether ears or fingers or toes wear the rings." We laughed. "How long?" he inquired bluntly. "To sup, I think. I must remain if Lady Johnson requests it of me." "And afterward. Will you ride home by way of Pigeon-Wood?" "Will you still be lingering there?" I asked with a smile. "Whether the pigeon-cote be empty or full, I shall await you there." I nodded. We smiled at each other and wheeled our horses in opposite directions. CHAPTER V A SUPPER Now, what seemed strange to me at the Hall was the cheerfulness of all under circumstances which must have mortified any Royalist, and, in particular, the principal family in North America of that political complexion. Even Sir John, habitually cold and reserved, appeared to be in most excellent spirits for such a man, and his wintry smile shed its faint pale gleam more than once upon the company assembled at supper. On my arrival there seemed to be nobody there except the groom, who took my mare, Kaya, and Frank, Sir William's butler, who ushered me and seemed friendly. Into the drawing room came black Flora, all smiles, to say that the gentlemen were dressing but that Lady Johnson would receive me. She was seated before her glass in her chamber, and the red-cheeked Irish maid she had brought from New York was exceedingly busy curling her hair. "Oh, Jack!" said Lady Johnson softly, and holding out to me one hand to be saluted, "they told me you were in the village. Has it become necessary that I must send for an old friend who should have come of his own free will?" "I thought perhaps you and Sir John might not take pleasure in a visit from me," I replied, honestly enough. "Why? Because last winter you answered the district summons and were on guard at the church with the Rebel Mohawk company?" So she knew that, too. But I had scarcely expected otherwise. And it came into my thought that the dwarfish Bartholomews had given her news of my doings and my whereabouts. "Come," said she in her lively manner, "a good soldier obeys his colonel, whoever that officer may chance to be--_for the moment_. And, were you even otherwise inclined, Jack, of what use would it have been to disobey after Philip Schuyler disarmed our poor Scots?" "If Sir John feels as you do, it makes my visit easier for all," said I.