“Yes, sir,” I said gravely, thinking to myself in a sad sort of wonder how utterly the majority of white men mistook their red brethren of the forest, and how blind they were not to impute to them the same humanity that they arrogated to themselves.

So much could have been done had men of my blood and colour dealt nobly with a noble people.  Yet, even Major Parr, who was no fool and who was far more enlightened than many, spoke of a Mohican Sagamore as “this wild beast,” and seriously advised me to keep him “full fed and properly flattered!”

“Yes, sir,” I repeated, saluting, and almost inclined to laugh in his face.

So I first made requisition for the lang rifle, then reported to my captain, although being on special detail under Major Parr’s personal orders, this was nothing more than a mere courtesy.

The parade already swarmed with our men mustering for inspection; I met Lieutenant Boyd, and we conversed for a while, he lamenting the impossibility of making a boating party with the ladies, being on duty until three o’clock.  And: 

“Who is this new guest of Mrs. Bleecker?” he asked curiously.  “I understand that you are acquainted with her.  What is her name?  A Miss de Contrecoeur?”

I had not been prepared for that, never expecting that Mrs. Bleecker had already started to prepare the way; but I kept my countenance and answered coolly enough that I had the honour of knowing Miss de Contrecoeur.

“She came by batteau from Albany?”

“Her box,” said I, “has just arrived from Albany by batteau.”

“Is the lady young and handsome?” he asked, smiling.

“Both, Mr. Boyd.”

“Well,” he said, with a polite oath, “she must be something more, too, if she hopes to rival Lana Helmer.”

So it had already come to such terms of intimacy that he now spoke of her as Lana.  For the last few days I had not been to Croghan’s house to pay my respects, the heat leaving me disinclined to stir from the shade of the river trees.  Evidently it had not debarred Boyd from presenting himself, or her from receiving him, although a note brought to me from Mrs. Bleecker by her black wench said that both she and Angelina Lansing were ill with the heat and kept their rooms.

“We are bidden to cake and wine at five,” said I.  “Are you going?”

He said he would be present, and so I left him buckling on his belt, and the conch-horn’s blast echoing over the parade, sounding the assembly.

At the gate I encountered Lana and Mrs. Lansing and our precious Ensign, come to view the inspection, and exchanged a gay greeting with them.

Then, mending my pace, I hastened to Croghan’s house, and found Mrs. Bleecker pacing the foot-path and nibbling fennel.

“How agreeably cool it is growing,” she said as I bent over her fingers.  “I truly believe we are to have an endurable day at last.”  She smiled at me as I straightened up, and continued to regard me very intently, still slightly smiling.