There was a murmur of assent, followed by a scraping of chairs and fluttering of papers as the meeting broke up.
"One moment, your Excellency," I interposed. "I have also a letter from Master Juggins for the Honorable Cadwalader Colden of your Council—if he is here."
"Indeed, he is," assented the governor. "A moment, if you please, Colden."
A thin, bustling man, with very bright black eyes and a dark complexion, who had been sitting at the governor's right hand, detached himself from the exodus and resumed his chair. His nervous fingers quickly tore loose the envelope of the letter I handed him, and he began devouring its contents, regardless of the confusion around him.
"Until tomorrow, gentlemen!"
The governor bowed the Council out, and shut the door upon the last of them. He beckoned me forward.
"Sit here beside us, Master Ormerod—for so I see you are rightly named, although you traveled under Master Juggins' name. Master Juggins vouches for you. That is sufficient for me. What say you, Colden?"
"Quite sufficient," agreed the surveyor-general. "Do you wish me to remain, sir?"
"Certainly. Glad to have you. This is no matter to be manhandled by the whole Council; but zooks, a man must have advice now and then, whether he takes it or not! Now, Master Ormerod, do you tell us as fully as you may what you know of Murray.
"Begin at the beginning. Spare nothing. Tell us how you yourself came into this.