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Rosalie laughed: "This is pleasant information for a rainy day," she said. "Duane, have you heard from Geraldine?" "Yes, to-day," he said innocently; "she is leaving Lenox this morning for Roya-Neh. I hear that there is to be some shooting there Christmas week. Scott writes that the boar and deer are increasing very fast and must be kept down. You and Delancy are on the list, I believe."
His scarlet and white beaded sporran swung to his knees; his ankle moccasins were quilled and feathered in red and white; the Erie scalps hung from his girdle, hooped in red, and he bore only a light pack-slung, besides his rifle and short red blanket. "Salute, O Sagamore! Roya-neh!" I said in a low voice, passing him.
I have spoken, O Roya-neh!" For a full five minutes of intense silence I knew that my bold appeal was being balanced in the scales by one of a people to whom tradition is a religion.
"Scott, dear," she said quietly, "I am glad you are happy over Roya-Neh forest, but it was too expensive, and it troubles me; so I'm going to sleep to dream over it." "You sweet little goose!" laughed the boy impulsively, passing his arm around her. He had done it so often to this nurse and mother. They both rose abruptly; the map dropped; his arm fell away from her warm, yielding body.
He gave the maid the money, turned, and unhooking the receiver of the telephone, called up the Grand Central Station. The autumn quiet at Roya-Neh was intensely agreeable to Scott Seagrave.
Silken and satin costumes, paste jewelry and property small-swords were arriving by express; maids flew about the house at Roya-Neh, trying on, fussing with lace and ribbon, bodice and flowered pannier, altering, retrimming, adjusting. Their mistresses met in one another's bedrooms for mysterious confabs over head-dress and coiffure, lace scarf, and petticoat.
The lawns and terraces of Roya-Neh were swarming with eager, laughing young people; white skirts fluttered everywhere in the sun; tennis-courts and lake echoed with the gay tumult, motors tooted, smart horses and showy traps were constantly drawing up or driving off; an army of men from West Gate Village were busy stringing lanterns all over the grounds, pitching pavilions in the glade beyond Hurryon Gate, and decorating everything with ribbons, until Duane suggested to Scott that they tie silk bows on the wild squirrels, as everything ought to be as Louis XVI as possible.
"Has that fact any particular significance to you?" he asked slowly. "Vital!... Do you understand me, Duane, dear?" "Yes." A moment later she called in her clear voice: "Gate, please!" A lantern flashed; a door opened in the lodge; there came a crunch of snow, a creak, and the gates of Roya-Neh swung wide in the starlight.
During the week the guests at Roya-Neh were left very much to their own devices. Nobody was asked to do anything; there were several good enough horses at their disposal, two motor cars, a power-boat, canoes, rods, and tennis courts and golf links. The chances are they wanted sea-bathing. Inland guests usually do. Scott Seagrave, however, concerned himself little about his guests.
"I am Roya-neh!" said the Grey-Feather. "What wisdom counsels I understand, He who would wear the scaly girdle must first know where the fangs lie buried.... But to hear the Antouhonoran scalp-yelp, and to turn one's back, is very hard, O my friend, Loskiel." The Night-Hawk controlled his youthful features, forcing a merry smile as my eye fell on him. "Koue!" he exclaimed softly.
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