For, though very young, our lovely Sacharissa had murdered many a gallant's peace of mind, leaving a trail of hearts bled white from New York to Boston, and from that afflicted city to Albany; where, it was whispered, her bright and merciless eyes had made the sad young Patroon much sadder, and his offered manor a more melancholy abode than usual. She gave us, now, her dimpled hand to kiss. And, to Lady Johnson: "My dear," she said very tenderly, "how pale you seem! God sends us affliction as a precious gift and we must accept it with meekness," letting her eyes rest absently the while on Lord Stirling, and then on me. Our Sacharissa might babble of meekness if she chose, but that virtue was not lodged within her, God knows,--nor many other virtues either. Billy Alexander, old enough to be her parent, nevertheless had been her victim; and I also. It was our opinion that we had recovered. But, to be honest with myself, I could not avoid admitting that I had been very desperate sick o' love, and that even yet, at times----But no matter: others, stricken as deep as I, know well that Claudia Swift was not a maid that any man might easily forget, or, indeed, dismiss at will from his mind as long as she remained in his vicinity. "Are you well, Billy, since we last met?" she asked Lord Stirling in that sweet, hesitating way of hers. And to me: "You have grown thin, Jack. Have you been in health?" I said that I had been monstrous busy with my new glebe in the Sacandaga patent, and had swung an axe there with the best o' them until an express from Sir William summoned me to return to aid him with the Iroquois at the council-fire. At which explaining of my silence the jade smiled. When I mentioned the Sacandaga patent and the glebe I had had of Sir William on too generous terms--he making all arrangements with Major Jelles Fonda through Mr. Lafferty--Sir John, who had been standing silent beside us, looked up at me in that cold and stealthy way of his. "Do you mean your parcel at Fonda's Bush?" he inquired. "Yes; I am clearing it." "Why?" "So that my land shall grow Indian corn, pardie!" "Why clear it _now_?" he persisted in his deadened voice. I could have answered very naturally that the land was of no value to anybody unless cleared of forest. But of course he knew this, too; so I did not evade the slyer intent of his question. "I am clearing my land at Fonda's Bush," said I, "because, God willing, I mean to occupy it in proper person." "And when, sir, is it your design to do this thing?" "Do what, sir? Clear my glebe?" "Remove thither--in _proper person_, Mr. Drogue?" "As soon as may be, Sir John." At that Lady Johnson gave me a quick look and Claudia said: "What! Would you bury yourself alive in that wilderness, Jack Drogue?" I smiled. "But I must hew out for myself a career in the world some day, Sacharissa. So why not begin now?"