olled toward the Battery, in order
to look again at the ships that came from so many parts of the
earth. A stranger, walking in slouching fashion, and with the collar
of his coat pulled well up about his face, shambled directly in his
way. When Robert turned the man turned also and said in a low tone:

"Mr. Lennox!"

"St. Luc!" exclaimed Robert. "Are you quite mad? Don't you know that
your life is in danger every instant?"

"I am not mad, nor is the risk as great as you think. Walk on by my
side, as if you knew me."

"I did not think, chevalier, that your favorite role was that of a
spy."

"Nor is it. This New York of yours is a busy city, and a man, even a
Frenchman, may come here for other reasons than to learn military
secrets."

Robert stared at him, but St. Luc admonished him again to look in
front of him, and walk on as if they were old acquaintances on some
business errand.

"I don't think you want to betray me to the English," he said.

"No, I don't," said Robert, "though my duty, perhaps, should make me
do so."

"But you won't. I felt assured of it, else I should not have spoken to
you."

"What duty, other than that of a spy, can have brought you to New
York?"

"Why make it a duty? It is true the times are troubled, and full of
wars, but one, on occasion, may seek his pleasure, nevertheless. Let
us say that I came to New York to see the play which both of us
witnessed last night. 'Twas excellently done. I have seen plays
presented in worse style at much more pretentious theaters in
Paris. Moreover I, a Frenchman, love Shakespeare. I consider him the
equal of our magnificent Moliere."

"Which means that if you were not a Frenchman you would think him
better."

"A pleasant wit, Mr. Lennox. I am glad to see it in you. But you will
admit that I have come a long distance and incurred a great risk to
attend a play by a British author given in a British town, though it
must be admitted that the British town has strong Dutch
lineaments. Furthermore, I do bear witness that I enjoyed the play
greatly. 'Twas worth the trouble and the danger."

"Since you insist, chevalier, that you came so great a distance and
incurred so great a risk merely to worship at the shrine of our
Shakespeare, as one gentleman to another I cannot say that I doubt
your word. But when we sailed down the Hudson on a sloop, and were
compelled to tie up in a cove to escape the wrath of a storm, I saw
you on the slope above me."