Chapter 6: The Dark Stranger

Robert arrived at the house of Jacobus Huysman about dark and Tayoga came with him. Willet was detained at the camp on the flats, where he had business with Colonel Johnson, who consulted him often. The two lads were in high good spirits, and Mynheer Jacobus, whatever he may have been under the surface, appeared to be so, too. Robert believed that the army would march very soon now. The New York and New England men alike were full of fire, eager to avenge Braddock’s defeat and equally eager to drive back and punish the terrible clouds of savages which, under the leadership of the French, were ravaging the border, spreading devastation and terror on all sides.

“There has been trouble, Mynheer Huysman,” said Robert, “between Governor Shirley of Massachusetts, who has been in camp several days, and Colonel Johnson. I saw Governor Shirley when he was in the council at Alexandria, in Virginia, and I know, from what I’ve heard, that he’s the most active and energetic of all the governors, but they say he’s very vain and pompous.”

“Vanity and pomp comport ill with a wilderness campaign,” said Mynheer Jacobus, soberly. “Of all the qualities needed to deal with the French und Indians I should say that they are needed least. It iss a shame that a man should demand obeisance from others when they are all in a great crisis.”

“The Governor is eager to push the war,” said Robert, “yet he demands more worship of the manner from Colonel Johnson than the colonel has time to give him. ‘Tis said, too, that the delays he makes cause dissatisfaction among the Mohawks, who are eager to be on the great war trail. Daganoweda, I know, fairly burns with impatience.”

Mynheer Jacobus sighed.

“We will not haf the advantage of surprise,” he said. “Of that I am certain. I do believe that the French und Indians know of all our movements und of all we do.”

“Spies?” said Robert.

“It may be,” replied Mynheer Jacobus.

Robert was silent. His first thought was of St. Luc, who, he knew, would dare anything, and it was just the sort of adventure that would appeal to his bold and romantic spirit. But his thought passed on. He had no real feeling that St. Luc was in the camp. Mynheer Jacobus must be thinking of another or others. But Huysman volunteered no explanation. Presently he rose from his chair, went to a window and looked out. Tayoga observed him keenly.

The Onondaga, trained from his childhood to observe all kinds of manifestations, was a marvelous reader of the minds of men, and, merely because Mynheer Jacobus Huysman interrupted a conversation to look out into the dark, he knew that he expected something. And whatever it was it was important, as the momentary quiver of the big man’s lip indicated.

The Indian, although he may hide it, has his full share of curiosity, and Tayoga wondered why Mynheer Jacobus watched. But he asked no question.

The Dutchman came back from the window, and asked the lads in to supper with him. His slight air of expectancy had disappeared wholly, but Tayoga was not deceived. “He has merely been convinced that he was gazing out too soon,” he said to himself. “As surely as Tododaho on his star watches over the Onondagas, he will come back here after supper and look from this window, expecting to see something or somebody.”

The supper of Mynheer Jacobus was, in reality, a large dinner, and, as it was probably the last the two lads would take with him before they went north, he had given to it a splendor and abundance even greater than usual. Tayoga and Robert, as became two such stout youths, ate bountifully, and Mynheer Jacobus Huysman, whatever his secret troubles may have been, wielded knife and fork with them, knife for knife and fork for fork.

But Tayoga was sure that Mynheer Jacobus was yet expectant, and still, without making it manifest, he watched him keenly. He noted that the big man hurried the latter part of the supper, something which the Onondaga had never known him to do before, and which, to the observant mind of the red youth, indicated an expectancy far greater than he had supposed at first.

Clearly Mynheer Jacobus was hastening, clearly he wished to be out of the room, and it was equally clear to Tayoga that he wanted to go back to his window, the one from which he could see over the grounds, and into the street beyond.

“Will you take a little wine?” he said to Robert, as he held up a bottle, through which the rich dark red color shone.

“Thank you, sir, no,” replied Robert.

“Und you, Tayoga?”

“I never touch the firewater of the white man, call they it wine or call they it whiskey.”

“Good. Good for you both. I merely asked you for the sake of politeness, und I wass glad to hear you decline. But as for me, I am old enough to be your father, und I will take a little.”

He poured a small glass, drank it, and rose.

“Your old room iss ready,” he said, “und now, if you two lads will go to it, you can get a good und long night’s sleep.”

Robert was somewhat surprised. He felt that they were being dismissed, which was almost like the return of the old days when they were schoolboys, but Tayoga touched him on the elbow, and his declaration that he was not sleepy died on his lips. Instead, he said a polite good-night and he and Tayoga went away as they were bid.

“Now, what did he mean? Why was he so anxious to get rid of us?” asked Robert, when they were again in their room.

“Mynheer Jacobus expects something,” replied the Onondaga, gravely. “He expects it to come out of the night, and appear at a window of the room in which we first sat, the window that looks over the garden, and to the street behind us.”

“How do you know that?” asked Robert, astonished.

Tayoga explained what he had seen.

“I do not doubt you. It’s convincing,” said Robert, “but I’d not have noticed it.”

“We of the red nations have had to notice everything in order that we might live. As surely as we sit here, Dagaeoga, Mynheer Jacobus is at the window, watching. When I lie down on the bed I shall keep my clothes on, and I shall not sleep. We may be called.”

“I shall do the same, Tayoga.”

Nevertheless, as time passed, young Lennox fell asleep, but the Onondaga did not close his eyes. What was time to him? The red race always had time to spare, and nature and training had produced in him illimitable patience. He had waited by a pool a whole day and night for a deer to come down to drink. He heard the tall clock standing on the floor in the corner strike ten, eleven, and then twelve, and a half hour later, when he was as wide awake as ever, there was a knock at the door. But he had first heard the approaching footsteps of the one who came and knocked, and he was already touching the shoulder of Robert, who sat up at once, sleep wholly gone from him.

“It is Mynheer Jacobus,” said Tayoga, “and he wants us.”

Then he opened the door and the large red face of Mynheer Huysman looked into the room, which was illuminated by the moonlight.

“Come, you lads,” he said, in sharp, eager tones, “und bring your pistols with you.”

Robert and Tayoga snatched up their weapons, and followed him into the sitting-room, where the tall lank youth, Peter, stood.

“You know Peter,” he said, “und Peter knows you. Now, listen to what he hass to tell, but first pledge me that you will say nothing of it until I give you leave. Do you?”

“We do,” they replied together.

“Then, Peter, tell them what you haf seen, but be brief, because it may be that we must act quickly.”

“Obeying the instructions of Mynheer Jacobus Huysman, whom I serve,” said Peter, smoothly, evidently enjoying his importance of the moment, “I watched tonight the house of Mynheer Hendrik Martinus, who is not trusted by my master. The building is large, and it stands on ground with much shrubbery that is now heavy with leaf. So it was difficult to watch all the approaches to it, but I went about it continuously, hour after hour. A half hour ago, I caught a glimpse of a man, strong, and, as well as I could tell in the night, of a dark complexion. He was on the lawn, among the shrubbery, hiding a little while and then going on again. He came to a side door of the house, but he did not knock, because there was no need. The door opened of itself, and he went in. Then the door closed of itself, and he did not come out again. I waited ten minutes and then hurried to the one whom I serve with the news.”

Mynheer Jacobus turned to Tayoga and Robert.

“I haf long suspected,” he said, “that Hendrik Martinus iss a spy in the service of France, a traitor for his own profit, because he loves nothing but himself und his. He has had remarkable prosperity of late, a prosperity for which no one can account, because he has had no increase of business. Believing that a Frenchman wass here, a spy who wished to communicate with him, I set Peter to watch his house, und the result you know.”

“Then it is for us to go there and seize this spy,” said Robert.

“It iss what I wish,” said Mynheer Huysman, “und we may trap a traitor und a spy at the same time. It is well to haf money if you haf it honestly, but Hendrik Martinus loves money too well.”

He took from a drawer a great double-barreled horse pistol, put it under his coat, and the four, quietly leaving the house, went toward that of Hendrik Martinus. There was no light except that of the moon and, in the distance, they saw a watchman carrying a lantern and thumping upon the stones with a stout staff.

“It iss Andrius Tefft,” said Mynheer Jacobus. “He hass a strong arm und a head with but little in it. It would be best that he know nothing of this, or he would surely muddle it.”

They drew back behind some shrubbery, and Andrius Tefft, night watchman, passed by without a suspicion that one of Albany’s most respected citizens was hiding from him. The light of his lantern faded in the distance, and the four proceeded rapidly towards the house of Hendrik Martinus, entering its grounds without hesitation and spreading in a circle about it. Robert, who lurked behind a small clipped pine in the rear saw a door open, and a figure slip quietly out. It was that of a man of medium height, and as he could see by the moonlight, of dark complexion. He had no doubt that it was a Frenchman, the fellow whom Peter had seen enter the house.

Robert acted with great promptness, running forward and crying to the fugitive to halt. The man, quick as a flash, drew a pistol and fired directly at him. The lad felt the bullet graze his scalp, and, for a moment, he thought he had been struck mortally. He staggered, but recovered himself, and raising his own pistol, fired at the flying figure which was now well beyond him. He saw the man halt a moment, and quiver, but in an instant he ran on again faster than ever, and disappeared in an alley. A little later a swift form followed in pursuit and Robert saw that it was Tayoga.

Young Lennox knew that it was useless for him to follow, as he felt a little dizzy and he was not yet sure of himself. He put his hand to his hair, where the bullet had struck, and, taking it away, looked anxiously at it. There was no blood upon either palm or finger, and then he realized, with great thankfulness, that he was merely suffering a brief weakness from the concussion caused by a heavy bullet passing so close to his skull. He heard a hasty footstep, and Mynheer Huysman, breathing heavily and anxious, stood before him. Other and lighter footsteps indicated that Peter also was coming to his aid.

“Haf you been shot?” exclaimed Mynheer Jacobus

“No, only shot at,” replied Robert, whimsically, “though I don’t believe the marksman could come so close to me again without finishing me. I think it was Peter’s spy because I saw him come out of the house, and cried to him to halt, but he fired first. My own bullet, I’m sure, touched him, and Tayoga is in pursuit, though the fugitive has a long lead.”

“We’ll leave it to Tayoga, because we haf to,” said Mynheer Jacobus. “If anybody can catch him the Onondaga can, though I think he will get away. But come now, we will talk to Hendrik Martinus und Andrius Tefft who hass heard the shots und who iss coming back. You lads, let me do all of the talking. Since the spy or messenger or whatever he iss hass got away, it iss best that we do not tell all we know.”

The watchman was returning at speed, his staff pounding quick and hard on the stones, his lantern swinging wildly. The houses there were detached and nobody else seemed to have heard the shots, save Hendrik Martinus and his family. Martinus, fully dressed, was coming out of his house, his manner showing great indignation, and the heads of women in nightcaps appeared at the windows.

“What is this intrusion, Mynheer Huysman? Why are you in my grounds? And who fired those two pistol shots I heard?”

“Patience, Hendrik! Patience!” replied Mynheer Jacobus, in a smooth suave manner that surprised Robert. “My young friend, Master Lennox, here, saw a man running across your grounds, after having slipped surreptitiously out of your house. Suspecting that he had taken und carried from you that which he ought not to haf, Master Lennox called to him to stop. The reply wass a pistol bullet und Master Lennox, being young und like the young prone to swift anger, fired back. But the man hass escaped with hiss spoil, whatefer it iss, und you only, Hendrik, know what it iss.”

Hendrik Martinus looked at Jacobus Huysman and Jacobus Huysman looked squarely back at him. The angry fire died out of the eyes of Martinus, and instead came a swift look of comprehension which passed in an instant. When he spoke again his tone was changed remarkably:

“Doubtless it was a robber,” he said, “and I thank you, Mynheer Jacobus, and Master Lennox, and your boy Peter, for your attempt to catch him. But I fear that he has escaped.”

“I will pursue him und capture him,” exclaimed Mynheer Andrius Tefft, who stood by, listening to their words and puffing and blowing.

“I fear it iss too late, Andrius,” said Mynheer Jacobus Huysman, shaking his head. “If anyone could do it, it would be you, but doubtless Mynheer Hendrik hass not lost anything that he cannot replace, und it would be better for you, Andrius, to watch well here und guard against future attempts.”

“That would be wise, no doubt,” said Martinus, and Robert thought he detected an uneasy note in his voice.

“Then I will go,” said Andrius Tefft, and he walked on, swinging his lantern high and wide, until its beams fell on every house and tree and shrub.

“I will return to my house,” said Mynheer Martinus. “My wife and daughters were alarmed by the shots, and I will tell them what has happened.”

“It iss the wise thing to do,” said Mynheer Huysman, gravely, “und I would caution you, Hendrik, to be on your guard against robbers who slip so silently into your house und then slip out again in the same silence. The times are troubled und the wicked take advantage of them to their own profit.”

“It is true, Mynheer Jacobus,” said Martinus somewhat hastily, and he walked back to his own house without looking Huysman in the eyes again.

Mynheer Huysman, Robert and Peter returned slowly.

“I think Hendrik understands me,” said Mynheer Huysman; “I am sorry that we did not catch the go-between, but Hendrik hass had a warning, und he will be afraid. Our night’s work iss not all in vain. Peter, you haf done well, but I knew you would. Now, we will haf some refreshment und await the return of Tayoga.”

“I believe,” said Robert, “that in Albany, when one is in doubt what to do one always eats. Is it not so?”

“It iss so,” replied Mynheer Jacobus, smiling, “und what better could one do? While you wait, build up the body, because when you build up the body you build up the mind, too, und at the same time it iss a pleasure.”

Robert and Peter ate nothing, but Mynheer Jacobus partook amply of cold beef and game, drank a great glass of home-made beer, and then smoked a long pipe with intense satisfaction. One o’clock in the morning came, then two, then three, and Mynheer Jacobus, taking the stem of his pipe from his mouth, said:

“I think it will not be long now before Tayoga iss here. Long ago he hass either caught hiss man or hiss man hass got away, und he iss returning. I see hiss shadow now in the shrubbery. Let him in, Peter.”

Tayoga entered the room, breathing a little more quickly than usual, his dark eyes showing some disappointment.

“It wass not your fault that he got away, Tayoga,” said Mynheer Jacobus soothingly. “He had too long a start, und doubtless he was fleet of foot. I think he iss the very kind of man who would be fleet of foot.”

“I had to pick up his trail after he went through the alley,” said Tayoga, “and I lost time in doing so. When I found it he was out of the main part of the town and in the outskirts, running towards the river. Even then I might have caught him, but he sprang into the stream and swam with great skill and speed. When I came upon the bank, he was too far away for a shot from my pistol, and he escaped into the thickets on the other shore.”

“I wish we could have caught him,” said Mynheer Jacobus. “Then we might have uncovered much that I would like to know. What iss it, Tayoga? You haf something more to tell!”

“Before he reached the river,” said the Onondaga, “he tore in pieces a letter, a letter that must have been enclosed in an envelope. I saw the little white pieces drift away before the wind. I suppose he was afraid I might catch him, and so he destroyed the letter which must have had a tale to tell. When I came back I looked for the pieces, but I found only one large enough to bear anything that had meaning.” He took from his tunic a fragment of white paper and held it up. It bore upon it two words in large letters: