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