The Sun of Quebec | Page 9

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 nobody. 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 identity, 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.
"I saw Garay, the spy," he replied in the same tone.
"And the man at the little table was the captain of the slave ship on