Shadow of the North — Ch 10: The Port, part 2

"'Tis almost our only victory," said Willet, "and I'm right glad, Benjamin, it has fallen to the lot of one of your ships to win it."

The long supper which was in truth a dinner was finished at last.

Hardy made good his boast, proving that he was a mighty trencherman.

Pillsbury pressed him closest, and the others, although they did well, lingered at some distance in the rear.

Afterward they walked in the town, observing its varied life, and at a late hour returned to Hardy's house which he called a mansion.

Robert and Tayoga were assigned to a room on the second floor, and young Lennox again noted the numerous evidences of opulence.

The furniture was mostly of carved mahogany, and every room contained articles of value from distant lands.

"Tayoga," said Robert, "what do you think of it all?"

"I think that the man Hardy is shrewd, Dagaeoga, shrewd like one of our sachems, and that he has an interest in you, greater than he would let you see.

Do you remember him, Lennox?"

"No, I can't recall him, Tayoga.

I've heard Dave speak of him many times, but whenever we were in New York before he was away, and we did not even come to his house.

But he and Dave are friends of many years.

I think that long ago they must have been much together."

"Truly there is some mystery here, but it can wait.

In its proper time the unknown becomes the known."

"So it does, Tayoga, and I shall not vex my mind about the matter.

Just now, what I wish most of all is sleep."

"I wish it too, Lennox."

But Robert did not sleep well, his nerves being attuned more highly than he had realized.

Some of the talk that had passed between Willet and Hardy related obviously to himself, and in the quiet of the room it came back to him.

He had not slept more than an hour when he awoke, and, being unable to go to sleep again, sat up in bed.

Tayoga was deep in slumber, and Robert finally left the bed and went to the window, the shutter of which was not closed.

It was a curious, round window, like a huge porthole, but the glass was clear and he had a good view of the street.

He saw one or two sailors swaying rather more than the customary motion of a ship, pass by, and then a watchman carrying a club in one hand and a lantern in the other, and blowing his frosty breath upon his thick brown beard, indicating that the night although bright was very cold.

He looked through the glass at least a half hour, and then turned back to the bed, but found himself less inclined than ever to sleep.

Throwing his coat over his shoulders, he opened the unlocked door and went into the hall, intending to walk back and forth a little, believing that the easy exercise would induce desire for sleep.

He was surprised to find a thread of light in the dusk of the hall, at a time when he was quite sure everybody in the house except himself was buried in slumber, and when he traced it he found it came from another room farther down.

It was, upon the instant, his belief that robbers had entered.

In a port like New York, where all nations come, there must be reckless and desperate men who would hesitate at no risk or crime.

He moved cautiously along the hall, until he reached the door from which the light shone.

It was open about six inches, not allowing a look into the room except at the imminent risk of discovery, but by placing his ear at the sill he would be able to hear the footsteps of men if they were moving within.

The sound of voices instead came to him, and as he listened he was able to note that it was two men talking in low tones.

Undoubtedly they were robbers, who were common in all great towns in those days, and this must be a chamber in which Master Hardy kept many valuables.

Doubtless they were assured that everybody was deep in slumber, or they would be more cautious.

Driven by an intense curiosity, Robert edged his head a little farther forward, and was able to look into the room, where, to his intense amazement, he saw no robbers at all, but Willet and Master Hardy seated at a small table opposite each other, with a candle, account books and papers between.

Hardy had been reading a paper, and stopping at intervals to talk about it with the hunter.

"As you see, David," he said, "the list of the ships is three larger than it was five years ago.

One was lost to the Barbary corsairs, another was wrecked on the coast of the Brazils, but we have five new ones."

"You have done well, Benjamin, but I knew you would," said the hunter.

"With the help of Jonathan.

Don't forget him, David.

In name he is my head clerk, and he pretends to serve me, but at times I think he is my master.

A shrewd Massachusetts man, David, uncommonly shrewd, and loyal too."

"And the lands, Benjamin?"

"They're in abeyance, and are likely to be for some years, their title depending upon the course of events which are now in train."

"And they're uncertain, Benjamin, as uncertain as the winds.

But give me your honest opinion of the lad, Benjamin.

Have I done well with him?"

"None could have done better.

He's an eagle, David.

I marked him well.

Spirit, imagination, force; youth and honesty looking out of his eyes.

But have you no fears, David, that you will get him killed in the wars?"

"I could not keep him from going to them if I would, Benjamin.

There my power stops.

You old sailors have superstitions or beliefs, and I, a landsman, have a conviction, too.

The invisible prophets tell me that he will not be killed."

"I don't laugh at such things, David.

The greatness and loneliness of the sea does breed superstition in mariners.

I know there is no such thing as the supernatural, and yet I am swayed at times by the unknown."

"At least I will watch over him as best I can, and he has uncommon skill in taking care of himself."

Robert's will triumphed over a curiosity that was intense and burning, and he turned away.

He knew they were speaking of him, and he seemed to be connected with great affairs.

It was enough to stir the most apathetic youth, and he was just the opposite.

It required the utmost exertion of a very strong mind to pull himself from the door and then to drag his unwilling feet along the hall.

Matter was in complete rebellion and mind was compelled to win its triumph, unaided, but win it did and kept the victory.

He reached his own room and softly closed the door behind him.

Tayoga was still sleeping soundly.

Robert went again to the window.

His eyes were turned toward the street, but he did not see anything there, because he was looking inward.

The talk of Willet and Hardy came back to him.

He could say it over, every word, and none could deny that it was charged with significance.

But he knew intuitively that neither of them would answer a single one of his questions, and he must wait for time and circumstance to disclose the truth.

Nor could he bear to tell them that he had been listening at the door, despite the fact that it had been brought about by accident, and that he had come away, when he might have heard more.

Having resigned himself to necessity, he went back to bed and now, youth triumphing over excitement, he soon slept.

The next morning, directly after breakfast, the three elders and the two lads went to the Royal Exchange, where there was soon a great concourse of merchants, clerks and seafaring men.

Master Hardy was received with great respect, and many congratulations were given to him, when he told the story of the _Good Hope_ and Captain Dunbar.

In one of the rooms above the pillars he met another captain of his who had arrived the day before at New York itself.

This captain, a New England man, Eliphalet Simmons, had brought his schooner from the Mediterranean, and he told in a manner as brief and dry as his own log how he had outsailed one Barbary corsair by day, and by changing his course had tricked another in the night.

But the voyage had been most profitable, and Master Jonathan duly entered the amount of gain in an account book, with a reward of ten pounds to Captain Simmons, five pounds to the first mate, three pounds to the second mate, and one pound to every member of the crew for their bravery and seamanship.

Captain Simmons' thanks were as brief and dry as his report, but Robert saw his eyes glisten, and knew that he was not lacking in gratitude.

After the business was settled and the rewards adjusted they adjourned to a coffee house near Hanover Square where very good Madeira was brought and served to the men, Robert and Tayoga declining.

Then Benjamin, David and Jonathan drank to the health of Eliphalet, while the two lads, the white and the red, devoted their attention to the others in the coffee house, of whom there were at least a dozen.

One who sat at a table very near was already examining Tayoga with the greatest curiosity.

He wore the uniform of an English second lieutenant, very trim, and very red, he had an exceeding ruddiness of countenance, he was tall and well built, and he was only a year or two older than Robert.

His curiosity obviously had been aroused by the appearance of Tayoga in the full costume of an Iroquois.

It was equally evident to Robert that he was an Englishman, a member of the royal forces then in New York.

Americans still called themselves Englishmen and Robert instantly had a feeling of kinship for the young officer who had a frank and good face.

The English youth's hat was lying upon the table beside him, and a gust of wind blowing it upon the floor, rolled it toward Robert, who picked it up and tendered it to its owner.

"Thanks," said the officer.

"'Twas careless of me."

"By no means," said Robert.

"The wind blows when it pleases, and you were taken by surprise."

The Englishman smiled, showing very white and even teeth.

"I haven't been very long in New York," he said, "but I find it a polite and vastly interesting town.

My name is Grosvenor, Alfred Grosvenor, and I'm a second lieutenant in the regiment of Colonel Brandon, that arrived but recently from England."

Master Hardy looked up and passed an investigating eye over the young Englishman.

"You're related to one of the ducal families of England," he said, "but your own immediate branch of it has no overplus of wealth.

Still, your blood is reckoned highly noble in England, and you have an excellent standing in your regiment, both as an officer and a man."

Young Grosvenor's ruddy face became ruddier.

"How do you happen to know so much about me?"

he asked.

But there was no offense in his tone.

Hardy smiled, and Pillsbury, pursing his thin lips, measured Grosvenor with his eyes.

"I make it my business," replied Hardy, "to discover who the people are who come to New York.

I'm a seafaring man and a merchant and I find profit in it.

It's true, in especial, since the war has begun, and New York begins to fill with the military.

Many of these sprightly young officers will be wishing to borrow money from me before long, and it will be well for me to know their prospects of repayment."

The twinkle in his eye belied the irony of his words, and the lieutenant laughed.

"And since you're alone," continued the merchant, "we ask you to join us, and will be happy if you accept.

This is Mr. Robert Lennox, of very good blood too, and this is Tayoga, of the Clan of the Bear, of the nation Onondaga, of the great League of the Hodenosaunee, who, among his own people has a rank corresponding to a prince of the blood among yours, and who, if you value such things, is entitled therefore to precedence over all of us, including yourself.

Mr. David Willet, Mr. Jonathan Pillsbury and Mr. Benjamin Hardy, who is myself, complete the catalogue."

He spoke in a tone half whimsical, half earnest, but the young Englishman, who evidently had a friendly and inquiring mind, received it in the best spirit and gladly joined them.

He was soon deep in the conversation, but his greatest interest was for Tayoga, from whom he could seldom take his eyes.

It was evident to Robert that he had expected to find only a savage in an Indian, and the delicate manners and perfect English of the Onondaga filled him with surprise.

"I would fain confess," he said at length, "that America is not what I expected to find.

I did not know that it contained princes who could put some of our own to shame."

He bowed to Tayoga, who smiled and replied: "What small merit I may possess is due to the training of my people."

"Do you expect early service, Lieutenant Grosvenor?"

Mr. Hardy asked.

"Not immediate--I think I may say so much," replied the Englishman, "but I understand that our regiment will be with the first force that takes the field, that of General Braddock.

'Tis well known that we intend to march against Fort Duquesne, an expedition that should be easy.

A powerful army like General Braddock's can brush aside any number of forest rovers."

Robert and Willet exchanged glances, but the face of Tayoga remained a mask.

"It's not well to take the French and Indians too lightly," said Mr. Hardy with gravity.

"But wandering bands can't face cannon and the bayonet."

"They don't have to face 'em.

They lie hid on your flank and cut you down, while your fire and steel waste themselves on the uncomplaining forest."

They were words which were destined to come back to Robert some day with extraordinary force, but for the present they were a mere generalization that did not stay long in his mind.

"Our leaders will take all the needful precautions," said young Grosvenor with confidence.

Mr. Hardy did not insist, but spoke of the play they expected to witness that evening, suggesting to Lieutenant Grosvenor if he had leave, that he go with them, an invitation that was accepted promptly and with warmth.

The liking between him and Robert, while of sudden birth, was destined to be strong and permanent.

There was much similarity of temperament.

Grosvenor also was imaginative and curious.

His mind invariably projected itself into the future, and he was eager to know.

He had come to America, inquiring, without prejudices, wishing to find the good rather than the bad, and he esteemed it a great stroke of fortune that he should make so early the acquaintance of two such remarkable youths as Robert and Tayoga.

The three men with them were scarcely less interesting, and he knew that in their company at the play they would talk to him of strange new things.

He would be exploring a world hidden from him hitherto, and nothing could have appealed to him more.

"You landed a week ago," said Hardy.

"Truly, sir," laughed Grosvenor, "you seem to know not only who I am, but what I do."

"And then, as you've had a certain amount of military duty, although 'tis not excessive, you've had little chance to see this most important town of ours.

Can you not join this company of mine at my house for supper, and then we'll all go together to the play?

I'll obtain your seat for you."

"With great pleasure, sir," replied Grosvenor.

"'Twill be easy for me to secure the needed leave, and I'll be at your house with promptness."

He departed presently for his quarters, and the three men also went away together on an errand of business, leaving Robert and Tayoga to go whithersoever they pleased and it pleased them to wander along the shores of the port.

Young Lennox was impressed more than ever by the great quantity of shipping, and the extreme activity of the town.

The war with France, so far from interfering with this activity, had but increased it.

Privateering was a great pursuit of the day, all nations deeming it legal and worthy in war, and bold and enterprising merchants like Mr. Hardy never failed to take advantage of it.

The weekly news sheets that Willet had bought contained lists of vessels captured already, and Robert's hasty glances showed him that at least sixty or seventy had been taken by the privateers out of New York.

Most of the prizes had been in the West India trade, although some had been captured far away near the coast of Africa, and nearly all had been loaded richly.

They saw several of the privateers in port, armed powerfully, and as they were usually built for speed, Robert admired their graceful lines.

He felt anew the difference between military Quebec and commercial New York.

Quebec was prepared to send forth forces for destruction, but, here, life-giving commerce flowed in and flowed out again through arteries continually increasing in number and power.

Once again came to him the thought that the merchant more than the soldier was the builder of a great nation.

The impression made upon him was all the more vivid because New York, even in the middle of the eighteenth century, when it was in its infancy, surprised even travelers from Europe with its manifold activities and intense energy.

After a day, long but of extraordinary interest, they returned to the house of Mr. Hardy, where Grosvenor joined them in half an hour, and then, after another abundant supper, they all went to the play.

CHAPTER XI