"Tut, tut, 'tis nothing," he pursued his discourse. "I do but serve myself. I have been housecleaning this past Spring. There were rats in the Council who sought to trip me in the days you know of. They are gone. Ormerod should have had a seat ere this but 'twas best to await the pardon."
"I am so happy I know not what to do," protested Marjory, wiping her eyes. "But, oh, see who comes!"
We followed her pointing finger; and there, striding between the ordered house-fronts of Pearl Street, exactly as I had seen him the first time we met, came Ta-wan-ne-ars, the eagle's feather slanting from his scalp-lock, the wolf's head of his clan insignia painted on his naked chest. His grave face was smiling. His right arm was raised in salute.
"Qua, Ga-en-gwa-ra-go! Qua, friends! Ta-wan-ne-ars greets you."
"You are just arrived?" I asked.
"This hour landed, brother, from the river-sloop."
"Have you any frontier news?" questioned the governor, alert as always for tidings of his distant dominions.
"Only news of peace. The frontier is quiet. The Doom Trail is closed. Do-ne-ho-ga-weh and To-do-da-ho say to Ga-en-gwa-ra-go that the French have forgotten the threats they made. The Covenant Chain was too strong for them, and so long as the English and the People of the Long House keep their hands clasped the peace will endure."
"I told the French that the People of the Long House had the right to destroy a force which assailed their interests," responded the governor. "And his Majesty my King sent word to the French King that my words were straight."
"Ga-en-gwa-ra-go is a friend to the Great League," rejoined the Seneca. "His fame as a truth-teller and a covenant-keeper has gone broadcast. The far tribes are traveling to Albany to offer their allegiance and friendship to him. The fur-trade is once more under control of the English and the Long House."