"Who is he, mother?"

"Hush!" answered Madame Tank.

The head of the party laid down his violin and bow, and explained to us:

"Madame Tank was maid of honor to the queen of Holland, before reverses
overtook her. She knows court secrets."

"But she might at least tell us," coaxed Annabel, "if this Mohawk is a
Dutchman."

Madame Tank said nothing.

"What could happen in the court of Holland? The Dutch are slow coaches.
I saw the Van Rensselaers once, near Albany, riding in a wagon with
straw under their feet, on common chairs, the old Patroon himself
driving. This boy is some off-scouring."

"He outranks you, mademoiselle," retorted Madame Tank.

"That's what I wanted to find out," said Annabel.

I kept half an eye on Croghan to see what he thought of all this woman
talk. For you cannot help being more dominated by the opinion of your
contemporaries than by that of the fore-running or following generation.
He held his countenance in excellent command, and did not meddle even by
a word. You could be sure, however, that he was no credulous person who
accepted everything that was said to him.