'Twas early Autumn when we returned to Albany. The leaves were
coloring, and there was a nip of frost in the air. The flag over the
battlements of Fort Orange stood out straight from its staff. The
citizens who thronged the street leading up to the fort gate must
needs hold on to their hat-brims.
"Are the streets usually so crowded?" I asked Peter.
He shook his head, and I accosted a tavernkeeper who stood in his
doorway, regarding the passers-by with anticipation of the harvest he
would reap later.
"'Tis his Excellency the governor," he explained. "Master Burnet is
come up-river from New York town this morning."
"What is toward?"
"I know not, my master. The governor and Master Colden of his
Council have summoned certain gentry and merchants and the officers
of the troops to meet them in the Great Hall of the fort this
afternoon."