Great as was my astonishment, I intercepted and unconsciously made mental note of the look of understanding which as I turned was passing between the don and Colonel Burr.
The former flashed a glance of inquiry from myself to the President, who met it with his ungraceful but ready courtesy—"Don Pedro Vallois, Dr. John H. Robinson."
"And my good friend, señor!" added Mr. Burr, with a warmth of tone that astonished me.
Señor Vallois responded to my bow with one as punctiliously polite as it was haughty. There was no sign of recognition in his cold eyes. The opportunity was too tempting to forgo.
"I trust, señor, that you were not again stalled, and have not been required to inhabit the centre of the avenue these past three days," I remarked.
At this he gazed at me with more interest. No doubt my voice jogged his memory, for in a moment his eye kindled, and he grasped my hand with the heartiness of an Englishman.
"Por Dios! It is our caballero of the mire!"
"The same, señor. It is good fortune which brings us together as guests of His Excellency the President," I replied, thinking to divert the conversation. It was in vain.
"How?—What is this, señor? You know Dr. Robinson?" questioned Colonel Burr, his eyes sparkling not altogether pleasantly, and his lips tightening beneath their smile.
Señor Vallois waved his hand for attention and proceeded, with much detail and elaboration, to recount my simple feat with the fence rails. In the midst entered the Honorable Henry Dearborn, the Secretary of War, to whom I had been introduced on the day of my arrival by Senator Adair. His curt nod of recognition forestalled an introduction by Mr. Jefferson, and the señor's account proceeded to the end without interruption.