"No, hang him! I wish he did. That cat-like tread of his is unendurable."
"He looks anxious, and doubtless has urgent business with Sir William that suffers from delay."
"Nonsense, Christie! you are too good natured. His business probably concerns payment for some game he has brought in for sale; for I take it he is one of these American hunters we have heard so much of lately. Whatever it is, it certainly can't compare in urgency with ours, and yet we have sat here like lambs for nearly an hour, while he has waited barely half that time. By the great horn spoon! If his serene highness does not admit us to his presence in a few minutes more, I shall beard him in his den, and demand audience in the name of the king. It is simply maddening to think of Cuyler carrying the Rothsay party farther and farther away with each minute, and having the beauty all to himself. Of course you don't care, since it was decided that they travel by the north shore of the lake, while, as I understand it, your beastly post lies somewhere on the south shore. With me, though, it is different. My destination being the same as hers, I naturally expected to be her travelling companion and enjoy a fair share of her charming society. Now what, with dancing attendance for a week on Sir Jeffry, and this abominable delay, I fear my chances of overtaking the expedition are very slim. By the way, I heard somewhere that the little Rothsay's name is not Rothsay, after all. Do you know if that is true, and if so, what her name really is?"
"I believe it is Hester,—Edith Hester," answered the young officer, who was addressed as Christie.
"I wonder how you always manage to find out such things?" remarked the other, reflectively. "By Jove!" he added, "Hester is the name of that major duffer whose message to Sir Jeffry caused my delay; I wonder if they can be relations?"
"Cave. Rustico aliquid subolet," warned Christie, with a significant glance toward the third occupant of the room, who had paused in his restless walk and was regarding them intently.
Before the elder man could reply, he stepped, to where they were sitting and said quietly to the young officer who had just spoken:—
"Pardon my presumption in thus addressing a stranger, sir, but I feel it my duty to remind you that the word rusticus may receive several interpretations. In one sense, it cannot be exchanged between gentlemen without creating ill feelings. Its use by Terence—"
Ere the sentence could be completed, and while the bewildered officers were gazing at this backwoods expounder of the classics much as they might have regarded an apparition, a door was flung open, and Sir William Johnson appeared with an anxious expression on his ruddy and usually jolly face.
"Ah, general," exclaimed the officer who had just declared his intention of bearding the general in his den, "we had begun to think—"