Chapter 1: Old Friends

Mynheer Jacobus Huysman walked to the window and looked out at the neat red brick houses, the grass, now turning yellow, and the leaves, more brown than green. He was troubled, in truth, his heart lay very heavy within him. He was thinking over the terrible news that had come so swiftly, as evil report has a way of doing. But he had cause for satisfaction, too, and recalling it, he turned to gaze once more upon the two lads who, escaping so many perils, had arrived at the shelter of his home.

Robert and Tayoga were thin and worn, their clothing was soiled and torn, but youth was youth and they were forgetting dangers past in a splendid dinner that the fat Caterina was serving for them while Mynheer Jacobus, her master, stood by and saw the good deed well done.

The dining room, large and furnished solidly, was wonderful in its neatness and comfort. The heavy mahogany of table, sideboard and chairs was polished and gleaming. No trace of dirt was allowed to linger anywhere. When the door to the adjoining kitchen opened, as Caterina passed through, pleasant odors floated in, inciting the two to fresh efforts at the trencher. It was all as it had been when they were young boys living there, attending the school of Alexander McLean and traveling by painful steps along the road to knowledge. In its snugness, its security and the luxury it offered it was a wonderful contrast to the dark forest, where death lurked in every bush. Robert drew a long sigh of content and poured himself another cup of coffee.

“And you escaped from the French after the great battle?” said Mynheer Jacobus, asking the same question over and over again.

“Yes, sir,” replied Robert, “and it was not a difficult thing to do at all. The victory of the French was so remarkable, and I think so unexpected, that they were paying little attention to me. I just walked out of their camp, and the only man I met was the Chevalier de St. Luc, who did not seem at all interested in stopping me--a curious fact, but a fact all the same.”

“A great leader and a fine man iss the Chevalier de St. Luc,” said Mr. Huysman.

“He’s both, as I’ve had many chances to learn, and I intend to know more about him some day.”

“It may be that you will know even more than you think.”

Robert looked sharply at the burgher, and he was about to ask questions, but he reflected that Mynheer Jacobus, if he were able to answer, would be evasive like all the others and so he checked the words at his lips.

“I suppose that time will disclose everything,” he contented himself with saying. “Meanwhile, I want to tell you, sir, that Tayoga and I appreciate to the full your hospitality. It is noble, it always was noble, as we’ve had ample occasion to discover.”

The full red face of Mynheer Jacobus bloomed into a smile. The corners of his mouth turned up, and his eyes twinkled.

“I must have had a premonition that you two were coming,” he said, “and so I stocked the larder. I remembered of old your appetites, a hunger that could be satisfied only with great effort, and then could come back again an hour later, as fresh and keen as ever. You are strong and healthy boys, for which you should be grateful.”

“We are,” said Robert, with great emphasis.

“And you do not know whether Montcalm iss advancing with his army?”

“We don’t, sir, but is Albany alarmed?”

“It iss! It iss alarmed very greatly. It wass not dreamed by any of us that our army could be defeated, that magnificent army which I saw go away to what I thought was certain victory. Ah, how could it have happened? How could it have happened, Robert?”

“We simply threw away our chances, sir. I saw it all. We underrated the French. If we had brought up our big guns it would have been easy. There was no lack of courage on the part of our men. I don’t believe that people of British blood ever showed greater bravery, and that means bravery equal to anybody’s.”

Mynheer Jacobus Huysman sighed heavily.

“What a waste! What a waste!” he said. “Now the army hass retreated and the whole border iss uncovered. The tomahawk and scalping knife are at work. Tales of slaughter come in efery day, and it iss said that Montcalm iss advancing on Albany itself.”

“I don’t believe, sir, that he will come,” said Robert. “The French numbers are much fewer than is generally supposed, and I can’t think he will dare to attack Albany.”

“It does not seem reasonable, but there iss great alarm. Many people are leaving on the packets for New York. Who would have thought it? Who could have thought it! But I mean to stay, and if Montcalm comes I will help fight in the defense.”

“I knew you wouldn’t leave, sir. But despite our defeat we’ve a powerful army yet, and England and the Colonies will not sit down and just weep.”

“What you say iss so, Robert, my boy. I am not of English blood, but when things look worst iss the time when England shows best, and the people here are of the same breed. I do not despair. What did you say had become of Willet?”

“Shortly before we reached Albany he turned aside to see Sir William Johnson. We had, too, with us, a young Englishman named Grosvenor, a fine fellow, but he went at once to the English camp here to report for duty. He was in the battle at Ticonderoga and he also will testify that our army, although beaten, could have brought up its artillery and have fought again in a day or two. It would have gained the victory, too.”

“I suppose so! I suppose so! But it did not fight again, and what might have been did not happen. It means a longer war in this country and a longer war all over the world. It spreads! It iss a great war, extending to most of the civilized lands, the greatest war of modern times and many think it will be the last war, but I know not. The character of mankind does not change. What do you two boys mean to do?”

“We have not decided yet,” replied Robert, speaking for both. “We’ll go back to the war, of course, which means that we’ll travel once more toward the north, but we’ll have to rest a few days.”

“And this house iss for you to rest in--a few days or many days, as you please, though I hope it will be many. Caterina shall cook for you four, five meals a day, if you wish, and much at every meal. I do not forget how when you were little you raided the fruit trees, and the berry bushes and the vines. Well, the fruit will soon be ripe again und I will turn my back the other way. I will make that fat Caterina do the same, and you and Tayoga can imagine that you are little boys once more.”

“I know you mean that, Mynheer Jacobus, and we thank you from the bottom of our hearts,” said Robert, as the moisture came into his eyes.

“Here comes Master Alexander McLean,” said Mr. Huysman, who had turned back to the window. “He must have heard of your arrival and he wishes to see if your perils in the woods have made you forget your ancient history.”

In a minute or two Master McLean, tall, thin, reddish of hair, and severe of gaze entered, his frosty blue eyes lighting up as he shook hands with the boys, though his manner remained austere.

“I heard that you had arrived after the great defeat at Ticonderoga,” he said, “and you are fortunate to have escaped with your lives. I rejoice at it, but those who go into the woods in such times must expect great perils. It is of course well for all our young men to offer their lives now for their country, but I thought I saw in you at least, Robert Lennox, the germ of a great scholar, and it would be a pity for you to lose your life in some forest skirmish.”

“I thank you for the compliment,” said Robert, “but as I was telling Mynheer Jacobus I mean to go back into the woods.”

“I doubt it not. The young of this generation are wise in their own conceit. It was hard enough to control Tayoga and you several years ago, and I cannot expect to do it now. Doubtless all the knowledge that I have been at such pains to instill into you will be lost in the excitement of trail and camp.”

“I hope not, sir, though it’s true that we’ve had some very stirring times. When one is in imminent danger of his life he cannot think much of his Latin, his Greek and his ancient history.”

The severe features of Master Alexander McLean wrinkled into a frown.

“I do not know about that,” he said. “Alexander the Great slept with his Homer under his pillow, and doubtless he also carried the book with him on his Asiatic campaigns, refreshing and strengthening his mind from time to time with dips into its inspiring pages. There is no crisis in which it is pardonable for you to forget your learning, though I fear me much that you have done so. What was the date, Robert, of the fall of Constantinople?”

“Mahomet the Second entered it, sir, in the year 1453 A. D.”

“Very good. I begin to have more confidence in you. And why is Homer considered a much greater poet than Virgil?”

“More masculine, more powerful, sir, and far more original. In fact the Romans in their literature, as in nearly all other arts, were merely imitators of the Greeks.”

The face of Master McLean relaxed into a smile.

“Excellent! Excellent!” he exclaimed. “You have done better than you claimed for yourself, but modesty is an attribute that becomes the young, and now I tell you again, Robert, that I am most glad you and Tayoga have come safely out of the forest. I wish to inform you also that Master Benjamin Hardy and his chief clerk, Jonathan Pillsbury, have arrived from New York on the fast packet, River Queen, and even now they are depositing their baggage at the George Inn, where they are expecting to stay.”

Master Jacobus who had been silent while the schoolmaster talked, awoke suddenly to life.

“At the George Inn!” he exclaimed. “It iss a good inn, good enough for anybody, but when friends of mine come to Albany they stay with me or I take offense. Bide here, my friends, and I will go for them. Alexander, sit with the lads and partake of refreshment while I am gone.”

He hastened from the room and Master McLean, upon being urged, joined Robert and Tayoga at the table, where he showed that he too was a good man at the board, thinness being no bar to appetite and capacity. As he ate he asked the boys many questions, and they, knowing well his kindly heart under his crusty manner, answered them all readily and freely. Elderly and bookish though he was, his heart throbbed at the tale of the great perils through which they had gone, and his face darkened when Robert told anew the story of Ticonderoga.

“It is our greatest defeat so far,” he said, “and I hope our misfortunes came to a climax there. We must have repayment for it. We must aim at the heart of the French power, and that is Quebec. Instead of fighting on the defense, Britain and her colonies must strike down Canada.”

“So it seems to me too, sir,” said Robert. “We’re permitting the Marquis de Montcalm to make the fighting, to choose the fields of battle, and as long as we do that we have to dance to his music. But, sir, that’s only my opinion. I would not presume to give it in the presence of my superiors.”

“You’ve had much experience despite your youth and you’re entitled to your thoughts. But I hear heavy steps. ‘Tis odds that it’s Jacobus with his friends.”

The door was opened and Mr. Huysman with many words of welcome ushered in his guests, who being simple and strong men brought their own baggage from the inn. Robert rose at once and faced Benjamin Hardy in whose eyes shone an undoubted gladness. The merchant did not look a day older than when Robert had last seen him in New York, and he was as robust and hearty as ever. Jonathan Pillsbury, tall, thin and dressed with meticulous care, also permitted himself a smile.

“Robert, my lad!” exclaimed Benjamin Hardy, dropping his baggage and holding out two sinewy hands. “‘Tis a delight to find you and Tayoga here. I knew not what had become of you two, and I feared the worst, the times being so perilous. Upon my word, we’ve quite a reunion!”

Robert returned his powerful and friendly grasp. He was more than glad to see him for several reasons; for his own sake, because he liked him exceedingly, and because he was sure Master Benjamin held in his keeping those secrets of his own life which he was yet to learn.

“Sir,” he said, “‘tis not my house, though I’ve lived in it, and I know that Mr. Huysman has already given you a most thorough welcome, so I add that it’s a delight to me to see you again. ‘Twas a pleasant and most memorable visit that Tayoga and I had at your home in New York.”

“And eventful enough, too. You came very near going to the Guineas on a slave trip. That was the kind of hospitality I offered you.”

“No fault of yours, sir. I shall never forget the welcome you gave us in New York. It warms my heart now to think of it.”

“I see you’ve not lost your gift of speech. Words continue to well from your lips, and they’re good words, too. But I talk overmuch myself. Here is Jonathan waiting to speak to you. I told him I was coming to Albany. ‘Upon what affair?’ he asked. ‘‘Tis secret,’ I replied. ‘Meaning you do not want to tell me of its nature,’ he said. ‘Yes,’ I replied. Then he said, ‘Whatever its gist, you’ll need my presence and advice. I’m going with you.’ And here he is. Doubtless he is right.”

Jonathan Pillsbury clasped Robert’s hand as warmly as he ever clasped anybody’s and permitted himself a second smile, which was his limit, and only extraordinary occasions could elicit two.

“Our conversation has been repeated with accuracy,” he said. “I do not yet know why I have come to Albany, but I feel sure it is well that I have come.”

Mr. Huysman hustled about, his great red face glowing while fat Caterina brought in more to eat. He insisted that the new guests sit at the table and eat tremendously. It was a time when hospitality meant repeated offerings of food, which in America was the most abundant of all things, and Mr. Hardy and Mr. Pillsbury easily allowed themselves to be persuaded.

“And now, Robert, you must tell me something more about Dave,” said the merchant as they rose from the table.

Young Lennox promptly narrated their adventures among the peaks and about the lakes while the older men listened with breathless attention. Nor did the story of the great hunter suffer in Robert’s telling. He had an immense admiration for Willet and he spoke of his deeds with such vivid words and with so much imagery and embroidery that they seemed to be enacted again there in that quiet room before the men who listened.

“Ah, that is Dave! True as steel. As honest and brave as they ever make ‘em,” said Master Benjamin Hardy, when he had finished. “A man! a real man if ever one walked this earth!”

“And don’t forget Tayoga here,” said Robert. “The greatest trailer ever born. He saved us more than once by his ability to read the faintest sign the earth might yield.”

“When Dagaeoga begins to talk he never knows how to stop,” said Tayoga; “I but did the things all the warriors of my nation are taught to do. I would be unworthy to call myself a member of the clan of the Bear, of the nation Onondaga, of the great League of the Hodenosaunee, if I could not follow a trail. Peace, Dagaeoga!”

Robert joined in the laugh, and then the men began to talk about the prospects of an attack upon Albany by the French and Indians, though all of them inclined to Robert’s view that Montcalm would not try it.

“As you were a prisoner among them you ought to know something about their force, Robert,” said Mr. Hardy.

“I had opportunities to observe,” replied the lad, “and from what I saw, and from what I have since heard concerning our numbers I judge that we were at least four to one, perhaps more. But we threw away all our advantage when we came with bare breasts against their wooden wall and sharpened boughs.”

“It is a painful thing to talk about and to think about, but Britain never gives up. She marches over her mistakes and failures to triumph, and we are bone of her bone. And you saw St. Luc!”

“Often, sir. In the battle and in the preparations for it he was the right arm of the Marquis de Montcalm. He is a master of forest war.”

“He is all that, Robert, my lad. A strange, a most brilliant man, he is one of our most formidable enemies.”