Part 37 (2/2)

Then Robert's mind with a sudden rush, went back to St. Luc, and his sense of duty tempted him to speak of his presence to Willet, but he concluded to wait a little. He looked around for him again, but he did not see him, and he thought it possible that he had now left the dangerous neighborhood of Williamsburg.

As they walked back to their quarters at a tavern Willet informed them that there was to be, two days later, a grand council of provincial governors and high officers at Alexandria on the Potomac, where General Braddock with his army already lay in camp, and he suggested that they go too. As they were free lances with their authority issuing from Governor Dinwiddie alone, they could do practically as they pleased. Both Robert and Tayoga were all for it, but in the afternoon they, as well as Willet, were invited to a race dinner to be given at the tavern that evening by Stuart and Cabell in honor of the great contest, in which neither had lost, but in which both had won.

”I suppose,” said Willet, ”that while here we might take our full share of Virginia hospitality, which is equal to any on earth, because, as I see it, before very long we will be in the woods where so much to eat and drink will not be offered to us. March and battle will train us down.”

The dinner to thirty guests was spread in the great room of the tavern and the black servants of Stuart and Cabell, well trained, dextrous and clad in livery, helped those of the landlord to serve. The abundance and quality of the food were amazing. Besides the resources of civilization, air, wood and water were drawn upon for game. Virginia, already renowned for hospitality, was resolved that through her young sons, Stuart and Cabell, she should do her best that night.

A dozen young British officers were present, and there was much toasting and conviviality. The tie of kins.h.i.+p between the old country and the new seemed stronger here than in New England, where the England of Cromwell still prevailed, or in New York, where the Dutch and other influences not English were so powerful. They had begun with the best of feeling, and it was heightened by the warmth that food and drink bring. They talked with animation of the great adventure, on which they would soon start, as Stuart and Cabell and most of the Virginians were going with Braddock. They drank a speedy capture of Fort Duquesne, and confusion to the French and their red allies.

Robert, imitating the example of Tayoga, ate sparingly and scarcely tasted the punch. About eleven o'clock, the night being warm, unusually warm for that early period of spring, and nearly all the guests having joined in the singing, more or less well, of patriotic songs, Robert, thinking that his absence would not be noticed, walked outside in search of coolness and air.

It was but a step from the lights and brilliancy of the tavern to the darkness of Williamsburg's single avenue. There were no street lanterns, and only a moon by which to see. He could discern the dim bulk of William and Mary College and of the Governor's Palace, but except near at hand the smaller buildings were lost in the dusk. A breeze touched with salt, as if from the sea, was blowing, and its touch was so grateful on Robert's face that he walked on, hat in hand, while the wind played on his cheeks and forehead and lifted his hair. Then a darker shadow appeared in the darkness, and St. Luc stood before him.

”Why do you come here! Why do you incur such danger? Don't you know that I must give warning of your presence?” exclaimed Robert pa.s.sionately.

The Frenchman laughed lightly. He seemed very well pleased with himself, and then he hummed:

”Hier sur le pont d'Avignon J'ai oui chanter la belle Lon, la.”

”Your danger is great!” repeated Robert.

”Not as great as you think,” said St. Luc. ”You will not protect me. You will warn the British officers that a French spy is here. I read it in your face at the race today, and moreover, I know you better than you know yourself. I know, too, more about you than you know about yourself. Did I not warn you in New York to beware of Mynheer Adrian Van Zoon?”

”You did, and I know that you meant me well.”

”And what happened?”

”I was kidnapped by a slaver, and I was to have been taken to the coast of Africa, but a storm intervened and saved me. Perhaps the slaver was acting for Mynheer Van Zoon, but I talked it over with Mr.

Hardy and we haven't a shred of proof.”

”Perhaps a storm will not intervene next time. You must look to yourself, Robert Lennox.”

”And you to yourself, Chevalier de St. Luc. I'm grateful to you for the warning you gave me, and other acts of friends.h.i.+p, but whatever your mission may have been in New York I'm sure that one of your errands, perhaps the main one, in Williamsburg, is to gather information for France, and, sir, I should be little of a patriot did I not give the alarm, much as it hurts me to do so.”

Robert saw very clearly by the moonlight that the blue eyes of St. Luc were twinkling. His situation might be dangerous, but obviously he took no alarm from it.

”You'll bear in mind, Mr. Lennox,” he said, ”that I'm not asking you to s.h.i.+eld me. Consider me a French spy, if you wish--and you'll not be wholly wrong--and then act as you think becomes a man with a commission as army scout from Governor Dinwiddie of Virginia.”

There was a little touch of irony in his voice. His adventures and romantic spirit was in the ascendant, and it seemed to Robert that he was giving him a dare. That he would have endured because of his admiration for St. Luc, and also because of his grat.i.tude, but the allusion to his commission from the governor of Virginia recalled him to his sense of duty.

”I can do nothing else!” he exclaimed. ”'Tis a poor return for the services you have done me, and I tender my apologies for the action I'm about to take. But guard yourself, St. Luc!”

”And you, Lennox, look well to yourself when Braddock marches! Every twig and leaf will spout danger!”

His light manner was wholly gone for the moment, and his words were full of menace. Up the street, a sentinel walked back and forth, and Robert could hear the faint fall of his feet on the sand.

”Once more I bid you beware, St. Luc!” he exclaimed, and raising his voice he shouted: ”A spy! A spy!”

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