“Well, William,” said the patroon, as soon as they had greeted each other, which they did warmly, as if they were old friends long parted. “How does New York look to you now?”
“Much as usual. But I see that the privy-council is changed a bit.”
“Ay, changed for the worst.” They both laughed good humoredly. “What else do you notice?”
“Your French County seems to be on the warpath again.”
“Yes, there are rumors to that effect; but I put no faith in them. Still, everyone believes them here. It would be a good thing for the governor to garrison Fort Orange, if only to allay public excitement. It would be easier to stop him at Albany than at any other place.”
At that moment one of Van Volkenberg’s clerks came up and put a paper into his master’s hand.
“I have been looking everywhere for you.”
“Yes,” answered the patroon. “This needs my attention.” Then, turning to the stranger, he continued: “I must back to the warehouse, William. Remember our appointment; midnight on the river.”
We rode off directly to the patroon’s warehouse on the Slip. Before we had gone far the patroon put the letter into my hand. It was but a line and signed by one of the confidential clerks. It read:
“Lady Marmaduke is about to appeal to the Assembly to stop the troops.”