Patroon van Volkenberg

by Henry Thew Stephenson

From that moment I stood in the better graces of the master. There were times, to be sure, when I thought that he still shared his old suspicions. But for the most part he seemed to trust me. After all, the silver buttons were a good introduction. I had to thank them for much.

I now quite supplanted Louis. He did not seem to resent the change, but followed or stayed at home as he was bid. Time went on in this way for several days, during which my own feelings toward the master began somewhat to change. He seemed in a way to charm me. One who looks too long on an uncomfortable color will grow used to it at last. This fact and the presence of Miriam did much to account for this spleen of toleration. Many a time I had wondered how a man of his wicked practices could rise to such a height of influence and power. Little by little I came to comprehend the secret of his hold over the affections of his retainers. He was their lord and master and they loved him as their lives. I was soon to learn of this at first hand.

A few days after he had taken me into his confidence, the patroon set out for a ride about his estate. He chose me instead of Louis to go with him. His new confidence in me must have been increased by the growing distrust of Louis; yet he continued to treat the dwarf with kindness; nor was Louis the least jealous of me, who was fast taking his place in the affairs of his master.

The patroon and I set out on horseback. It was a bright day full of the sombre autumn color. As we rode about we met many persons, all of whom were known to the patroon. He had a word and a smile for each of them; of every one he had some kind inquiry to make of mother, brother, or sister; sometimes he would crack a merry joke, or indulge in some quiet chaff that did not hurt. Frequently on that ride I heard the “Good Patroon” blessed for some little act of interest, or for a bit of money bestowed without the air of righteous charity.

We had been riding for an hour in parts unknown to me, when we came out upon a cliff where we could look out over the bay and catch a faraway glimpse across Long Island to the turquoise sea beyond. My companion lifted his arm and swept it slowly along the horizon. I was surprised to see the grim, set expression of seriousness that came into his face. For the last hour he had been entertaining me with merry tales of his childhood, and of his adventures aboard ship when he was a young man. But now all that was gone. Was it the vast presence of the distant ocean that put a curb on his jolly spirits? Or was there some nearer motive close at hand, whose presence I could not see?

We sat side by side for twenty minutes. Neither of us spoke a word all this time. Only now and then was the silence broken when one of the horses stamped impatiently on the ground. The patroon’s face grew more stern and lowering. His fingers doubled tight around the bridle. Once or twice his lips moved, as if he were talking to himself. Then he struck his breast fiercely and pointed to the blue ocean.

“There, Vincent, there lies the fortune of the Red Band. By the sea we live or perish.”

I did not know what he meant, nor did I have a chance to ask him, for he turned quickly and galloped away, with me hard at his heels. It was some time before I was able to come abreast of him again, but when I did so, he opened the conversation.

“A man who would be great must keep his own secrets. I know that fact to my cost. I shall not tell you this, at least not for the present; but there will come a meeting soon and I shall need you then.”

He fell silent and musing. Evidently he was much tossed about in his own mind over something. I could see by his face that he was on the point of saying something to me a dozen times, and that he checked himself in the effort again and again. Suddenly these words burst from him in a sharp tone.