One day followed another and one week ran into the next as the _New
Venture_ made her southing and bore west toward the New World. The
weather was blustery and raw. Gales stormed down out of the polar
regions and drenched us with snow. Head winds baffled us. Once a
tall-masted stranger chased us for two days and a night before we
lost her and might continue our course.
But we who shared the tiny quarters under the poop contrived to live
together without further quarrels. It seemed almost as if the
opposition of the elements had overwhelmed the bitterness of
conflicting human interests.
The girl with the green cloak--I called her Marjory in my
thoughts--ignored my existence. She spent much of her time with de
Veulle, walking the deck with him, reading or playing at cards. I
liked to think she did it to provoke me. Sometimes, too, she chatted
with the seamen, and they taught her the trick of handling the wheel.
But I did not speak to her after the night she came into the main
cabin and found the negro, Tom, lying on the floor at my feet.
De Veulle gave me a wide berth. He did not like to be reminded
before others of that duel in the Toison d'Or. Tom's eyes never left
me if I was within the range of their vision; their blind, yellow
glare haunted my dreams. He snarled sometimes like a caged wild
beast when I walked near him. But he never lifted a finger against
me.
With Murray my relations were outwardly friendly. He liked much to
talk, and indeed he demonstrated a considerable acquaintance with the
great men of his period. But he never dropped a hint concerning the
enterprise in which he was now engaged. Nor for that matter did he
ever seek to draw me out on the mission I served.
He was a man of extraordinary perspicacity. Once he had determined
accurately the measure of an opponent he never made the mistake of
underrating his enemy.
"Most of the failures in life come from overconfidence, Master
Ormerod--" he called me by my real name with scrupulous courtesy when
we were alone, and was equally scrupulous to dub me Juggins if
Captain Abbot or one of the crew happened to be present--"as I dare
swear you know. I have long made it a rule of my life never to
believe that any other man could be less diligent about his affairs
than I myself.
"If I find myself in opposition to a man--yourself, let us suppose--I
do you the credit of granting you my own degree of intellect. So, I
have learned, may one's interests be safeguarded."
For the rest, he exhibited much concern in the personalities at
Versailles and St. Germain, and aired his views regarding the
existing state of the English nobility and Court with a vanity which
would have savored of the popinjay had it not been for his undoubted
earnestness and the strange spell which the man's personality wove
about him. Most of all, however, he delighted to discuss his own
genealogy and the history of the famous Scots families with whom he
was connected. He could descant on such topics for an entire
afternoon--and with an uncommon candor and entertaining flow of
intellect.
Perhaps the most striking aspect of our intercourse was that we
talked together, more or less, every day for nearly two months; and
at the end of that time I had the material for delineating the
character of a man of gentility and fine feeling in matters of honor,
who possessed the friendship or intimacy of many famous personages in
Europe and America.
I knew that he claimed to be a younger son of a good Scots house,
fallen into decay by reason of the Jacobite wars. I knew that he
played a good hand at piquet, and was entirely honorable in gambling.
I knew he had a dainty taste in snuff, cravats and linen.
And I knew absolutely nothing else, gained from his own admissions
and observance of his habits. He was patronizingly cordial to
Captain Abbot and the other officers of the ship; he controlled Tom
as I should a dog; he treated Marjory with consideration, even
affection, although not as I should have expected him to treat a
daughter; he observed toward de Veulle exactly the right mixture of
the older man of the world and the boon comrade.
He never referred to the enmity between us or the bargain we had made
until the day we sailed through the Narrows, the entrance to New
York's inner harbor, and saw far in the distance, behind tree-covered
islands in a long perspective of forest shore-lines, the miniature
provincial capital huddled on the point of the big island which the
Dutch named Manhattan, an occasional steeple pointing skyward above
the two and three story houses and the frowning ramparts of Fort
George.
"We part for a time, Master Ormerod," he said, coming upon me where I
leaned on the railing in the waist of the ship, viewing this unknown
land where I must retrieve my fallen fortunes. "Our truce expires
when we disembark."
"That is true," I assented.
"There is somewhat I would venture to observe upon, if you will
permit me," he continued detachedly.
I inclined my head, thinking mainly of the exquisite beauty of this
woodland setting, with the early Spring foliage already turning
green, and the wide spaces of emptiness so close to a principal
center of civilization.
"You are a youth of boldness and courage. I do not seek to flatter
you by saying so. You possess intelligence. You may go far in the
provinces, always supposing you do not succeed in winning a pardon.
I opine that a pardon might be won if you went about it in the right
way. There are gentlemen at Whitehall, who--"
His hesitation was eloquent.
"And you would suggest?" I asked him, faintly amused as I perceived
the drift of his intention.
"Think well before you commit yourself to this venture. Mark me,
sir, it means little to me. You know nothing of what you embark
upon. You can not hope to overcome me. Why, the governor of this
province, with all the semi-regal powers at his command, has failed
to balk me in my plans. My influence is no less in London. If you
continue as you have begun you will end, I fear, in an early grave.
I say it not as a threat. 'Tis merely a prediction."
"I fear me I should lose your good opinion did I take your advice," I
replied.
He looked me straight in the eyes.
"You would," he said curtly, and he turned on his heel and left me.
Three hours later we lay at anchor in the East River under the lee of
Nutten Island, which some called the Governor's because it was part
of his official estate. The extent of the shipping was surprizing
considering the size of the town, and we were fortunate to secure
small boats to ferry us ashore. They landed us at a wharf on a canal
which ran up into the town along the middle of Broad Street. From
here I had my baggage carried by a water-man to the George Tavern in
Queen Street which he recommended as being favored by the gentry.
Murray's party I overheard giving directions for the conduct of their
effects to Cawston's Tavern in Hanover Square, a comfortable open
place which we traversed on our way to the George. The streets were
all shaded by a variety of trees--locusts, beeches, elms--and in some
parts and along certain blocks they were paved.
The houses, many of them, were stanchly built of brick and tiles,
often of more than one color. Their gable ends fronted upon the
streets. The more pretentious ones had gardens behind, and many had
platforms on the roof whence the members of the family might secure a
broad view of the town and bay.
Along the water-front there were frequent warehouses, and the chief
impression that I gained was one of bustling wealth and prosperity.
Indeed, although New York was then, and for many years afterwards,
inferior in population to Boston and Philadelphia, it vied with them
in the volume of its trade.
After a meal which was as good as any I had ever eaten in Paris or
London I inquired of Master Kurt van Dam, the proprietor of the
George, where I might find Governor Burnet. Van Dam was a
broad-bodied, square-headed Dutchman. He sat in the ordinary,
smoking a long clay pipe, and if the waiter had not pointed him out
to me I should not have been able to distinguish him from a dozen
other natives of the town, precisely similar in build and each
sprawled back upon a bench or chair, puffing at a pipe which reached
from his lips to his knees.
"You vant to sbpeak to der gofernor, eh?" he said slowly. "Hah!
Myndert!"
He recalled the waiter who had piloted me to his side.
"Haf you seen der gofernor dis morning?"
Myndert had not.
"Veil, it maype he is at der Fort," reflected Master van Dam.
"He vouldt pe, if he vas," said a stout burgher on the next bench.
"Put he is not."
"You are sure?"
"_Ja._"
A third stout Dutchman removed his pipe from his mouth and blew a
mouthful of smoke toward the ceiling.
"Der gofernor is still at Cabptain van Horne's," he said, and
immediately replaced the pipe in his mouth.
"To be sure," assented van Dam. "Der gofernor is only a little time
married to Captain van Horne's dotter. He life with dem vile der
house in der Fort is mate bpretty for her."
"And where is Captain van Horne's house!" I asked.
"In der Broad-Vay not far oop from der Fort. You valk across through
Hanofer Square."