The dinner progressed amid a great loosening of tongues and much wit.  The perfume from the flowers on the table and the continuous playing of the band made the air heavier and more intoxicating.  It seemed to Robert that if these people had any cares they had dismissed them all for the time.  Their capacity for pleasure, for snatching at the incense of the fleeting moment, amazed him.  War might be coming, but tonight there was no thought of it.

Bigot toasted the two Bostonnais and the young Iroquois chief who were his guests in a flowery speech and Robert responded.  When he rose to his feet he felt a moment of dizziness, because he was so young, and because he felt so many eyes upon him.  But the gift of speech came to his aid—­he was not the golden-mouthed for nothing.  The heavy sweet odor of the roses was in his nostrils, inspiring him to liquid words, and everything glittered before him.

He had the most friendly feeling for all in the room except Tandakora, and a new thought coming into his mind he spoke it aloud.  He was, perhaps, in advance of his time, but he told them that New France and the British colonies could dwell in peace, side by side.  Why should they quarrel?  America was vast.  British and French were almost lost in its forests.  France and England together could be stowed away in the region about the Great Lakes and the shades of the wilderness would encompass them both.  The French and British were great races, it was useless to compare them and undertake to say which was the greater, because each was great in its own way, and each excelled in its own particulars, but the two combined were the sum of manly virtues and strength.  What the British lacked the French supplied, and what the French lacked the British supplied.  Together they could rule the world and spread enlightenment.

He sat down and the applause was great and hearty, because he had spoken with fervor and well.  His head was singing, and he was confused a little, after an effort that had induced emotion.  Moreover, the band had begun to play again some swaying, lilting dance tune, and his pulses beat to its measure.  But he did lean forward, in spite of his manners, and caught Willet’s approving look, for which he was very glad.  He received the compliments of the lady on his right and of de Courcelles, then the band ceased presently and he became conscious that Tayoga was speaking.  He had not heard Bigot call upon him, but that he had called was evident.

Tayoga stood up, tall, calm and dignified.  He too had the oratorical power which was afterward displayed so signally by the Seneca who was first called by his own people Otetiani and was later known as Sagoyewatha, but who was known to the white men as Red Jacket.