The Sun of Quebec | Page 7

Philadelphians a little later, and they all went back to
Grosvenor's tent, where they were joined in a half hour by the
Virginians, Walter Stuart and James Cabell, who had been with them in
Braddock's defeat and whom Robert had known at Williamsburg. It
was a tight squeeze for them all in the tent, but there was another and
joyous reunion. Youth responded to youth and hope was high.
"Stuart and I did not arrive in time for Ticonderoga," said Cabell, "but
we mean to be in the next great battle."

"So we do!" exclaimed Cabell. "The Old Dominion had a taste of
defeat at Fort Duquesne and you've had the like here. Now we'll all
wait and see how victory agrees with us."
"Some of us have been in at both defeats," said Grosvenor rather sadly.
But the presence of so many friends and the cheerful talk made him feel
so much better that he averred his ability to go anywhere and do
anything at once.
"You've leave of absence if you wish it?" asked Cabell.
"For several days more," replied Grosvenor.
"Then let's all go into the town. I haven't had a good look at Albany yet.
I want to see if it's as fine a place as Williamsburg."
"It's larger," said Robert.
"But size is not everything. That's where you northern people make
your mistake."
"But you'll admit that Philadelphia's a fine city, won't you?" said
Colden, "and you know it's the largest in the colonies."
"But it's comparatively near to Virginia," said Cabell briskly, "and our
influence works wonders."
"We've our own conceit in Philadelphia," said Wilton, "but conceit and
Virginia are just the same words, though they may have a different
sound."
"Come on to the George Inn," said Grosvenor, "and you can argue it
out there. Old England likes to see this healthy rivalry among her
children. She doesn't mind your being bumptious."
"We're bumptious, because we're like our parent," said Cabell. "It's a
matter of inheritance."

"Let the George Inn settle it. Come on, lads."
Grosvenor was feeling better and better. He was adaptable and this was
a sprightly group, full of kindred spirits. The Virginians were as
English as he was, and the others nearly as much so. He had acquitted
himself well in the New World, in fields with which he was unfamiliar,
and these lads were friends. Danger and hardships faded quite away
into a forgotten past. He was strong and well once more.
"You shall all be my guests at the George Inn!" he exclaimed. "We
shall have refreshment and talk, plenty of both."
"As we Virginians are the oldest people in the colonies, it's the right of
Stuart and myself to be the hosts," said Cabell.
"Aye, so 'tis," said Stuart.
"As we're from Philadelphia, the greatest and finest city in the country,
it's the right of Wilton, Carson and myself," said Colden.
But Grosvenor was firm. He had given the invitation first, he said, and
nobody could take the privilege from him. So the others yielded
gracefully, and in high good humor the eight, saying much and
humming little songs, walked across the fields from the camp and into
the town. Robert noticed the bustling life of Albany with approval. The
forest made its appeal to him, and the city made another and different
but quite as strong appeal. The old Fort Orange of the Dutch was
crowded now, not only with troops but with all the forms of industry
that follow in the train of an army. The thrifty Dutch, despite their
apprehension over the coming of the French, were busy buying, selling,
and between battles much money was made.
The George Inn, a low building but long and substantial was down by
the river. The great doors stood wide open and much life flowed in and
out, showing that it too profited by war. The eight found seats at a table
on a sanded floor, and contented themselves with lemonade, which they
drank slowly, while they talked and looked.

It was a motley and strange throng; American, English, Dutch, German,
Indian, Swedish. A half dozen languages were heard in the great room,
forerunner of the many elements that were to enter in the composition
of the American nation. And the crowd was already cosmopolitan.
Difference of race attracted no attention. Men took no notice of Tayoga
because he was an Indian, unless to admire his tall, straight figure and
proud carriage. Albany had known the Iroquois a century and a half.
Robert's spirits, like Grovenor's, mounted. Here he was with many
friends of his own age and kindred mind. Everything took on the color
of rose. All of them were talking, but his own gift of speech was the
finest. He clothed narrative with metaphor and illustration until