and Dutch wealth,
and people whose lives have been a continuous drama."

"Truly it's so," said Robert, and, as his examining eye swept the
crowd, he almost rose in his seat with astonishment, with difficulty
suppressing a cry. Then he charged himself with being a fool. It could
not be so! The thing was incredible! The man might look like him, but
surely he would not be so reckless as to come to such a place.

Then he looked again, and he could no longer doubt. The stranger sat
near the door and his dress was much like that of a prosperous
seafaring man of the Dutch race. But Robert knew the blue eyes, lofty
and questing like those of the eagle, and he was sure that the reddish
beard had grown on a face other than the one it now adorned. It was
St. Luc, whom he knew to be romantic, adventurous, and ready for any
risk.

Robert moved his body forward a little, in order that it might be
directly between Tayoga and the Frenchman, it being his first impulse
to shelter St. Luc from the next person who was likely to recognize
him. But the Onondaga was not looking in that direction. The young
English officer, moved by his intense interest, had engaged him in
conversation continually, surprised that Tayoga should know so much
about the white race and history.

Robert looked so long at St. Luc, and with such a fixed and powerful
gaze, that at last the chevalier turned and their eyes met. Robert's
said:

"Why are you here? Your life is in danger every moment. If caught you
will be executed as a spy."

"I'm not afraid," replied the eyes of St. Luc. "You alone have seen me
as I am."

"But others will see you."

"I think not."

"How do you know that I will not proclaim at once who you are?"

"You will not because you do not wish to see me hanged or shot."

Then the eyes of St. Luc left Robert and wandered ever the audience,
which was now deeply engrossed in talk, although the Livingstons and
the De Lanceys kept zealously away from one another, and the families
who were closely allied with them by blood, politics or business also,
stayed near their chiefs. Robert began to fancy that he might have
been mistaken, it was not really St. Luc, he had allowed an imaginary
resemblance to impose upon him, but reflection told him that it was no
error. He would have known the intense gaze of those burning blue eyes
anywhere. He was still careful to keep his own body between Tayoga and
the Frenchman.

The curtain rose and once mor