Part 3 (1/2)

”I was wondering,” he said, ”how long you mean to stay in Albany.”

”It's a pleasant town,” said the man, ”as I have cause to know since I've been here before. I may remain quite a while. Still, I shall decide wholly according to my taste.”

”But there is a certain element of danger.”

”Oh, the war! I don't think the French even if they come to Albany will have a chance to take me.”

”I didn't have the war in mind. There are other risks of which I think that I, Peter Smith, who sailed with you once before ought to warn you.”

”It's good of you, Peter, to think so much of my safety, but I don't believe I've any cause for fear. I've always been able to take care of myself.”

The last words were said with a little snap, and Robert knew they were meant as a defiance, but he appeared not to notice.

”Ah, well you've shown that you know how to look out for number one,” he said. ”I'm only Peter Smith, a humble seaman, but I've the same faculty.

I bid you good-day.”

”Good-day, Peter. I hope there's no ill feeling between us, and that each will have whatever he deserves!”

Cool! wonderfully cool, Robert thought, but he replied merely: ”I trust so, too, and in that case it is easy to surmise what one of us would get.”

He sauntered back to his comrades, and, lest he attract their attention, he did not look toward the slaver again for a minute or two. When he glanced in that direction he saw the man walking toward the door, not in any hurried manner, but as if he had all the time in the world, and need fear n.o.body. Cool! wonderfully cool, Robert thought a second time.

The slaver went out, and Robert thought he caught a glimpse of a man meeting him, a second man in whose figure also there was something familiar. They were gone in an instant, and he was tempted to spring up and follow them, because the figure of which he had seen but a little at the door reminded him nevertheless of Achille Garay, the spy.

CHAPTER II

THE CHEST OF DRAWERS

It was but a fleeting glimpse that Robert had of the second man, but he believed that it was Garay. He not only looked like the spy, but he was convinced that it was really he. After the first moment or two he did not doubt his ident.i.ty, and making an excuse that he wanted a little fresh air and would return in an instant he walked quickly to the door.

He caught another and fugitive glimpse of two men, one tall and the other short, walking away together, and he could not doubt that they were the slaver and the spy.

Had he been alone Robert would have followed them, though he was quite certain that Garay must have had some place of sure refuge, else he would not have ventured into Albany. Even with that recourse his act was uncommonly bold. If the slaver was daring, the spy was yet more so.

There was nothing against the slaver that they could prove, but the spy put his neck in the noose.

Robert whistled softly to himself, and he was very thoughtful. Willet, Tayoga and he had been so completely victorious over Garay in the forest that perhaps he had underrated him. Maybe he was a man to be feared. His daring appearance in Albany must be fortified by supreme cunning, and his alliance with the slaver implied a plan. Robert believed that the plan, or a part of it at least, was directed against himself. Well, what if it was? He could meet it, and he was not afraid. He had overcome other perils, and he had friends, as true and steadfast as were ever held to any man by hooks of steel. His heart beat high, he was in a glow, his whole soul leaped forward to meet prospective danger.

He went back into the inn and took his seat with the others. Now it was Stuart who was talking, telling them of life in the great Southern colony and of its delights, of the big houses, of the fields of tobacco, of the horse races, of the long visits to neighbors, and how all who were anybody were related, making Virginia one huge family.

”Now Cabell and I,” he said, ”belong to the same clan. My mother and his father are third cousins, which makes us fourth cousins, or fifth is it?

But whether fourth or fifth, we're cousins just the same. All the people of our blood are supposed to stand together, and do stand together. Oh, it has its delights! It makes us sufficient unto ourselves! The old Dominion is a world in itself, complete in all its parts.”

”But you have to come to Philadelphia to see a great city and get a taste of metropolitan life,” said Colden.

Then a discussion, friendly but warm arose as to the respective merits of the Virginia and Pennsylvania provinces, and when it was at its height and the attention of all the others was absorbed in it, Tayoga leaned over and whispered to Robert:

”What did you see at the door, Dagaeoga?”

Robert was startled. So, the Onondago was watching, after all. He might have known that nothing would escape his attention.