"Yes," said the captain. "Oh, yonder is Plum Point also, and of that I have a little story to tell. There, at the foot of that steep bank, there was, in the times we have been talking of, a redoubt with a battery of fourteen guns designed to cover strong _chevaux-de-frise_ and other obstructions placed in the river. A little above that battery, and long before it was made, a loghouse used to stand. It belonged to a Scotchman named M'Evers. When thinking of emigrating to America, he asked his servant Mike if he would go with him. Mike, being much attached to him, replied, 'Indeed, gude mon, I'll follow ye to the gates o' hell if ye gang there yersel.' So they came over. The ocean could not be crossed so rapidly in those days as in ours, and their voyage was long and tempestuous. Then the vessel, instead of entering New York Harbor by the Narrows, sailed through Long Island Sound and the East River. At the whirlpool called Hellgate the ship struck upon the Hog's Back with a terrible crash. The frightened passengers--none of them more frightened than Mike--rushed upon the deck. 'What place is it?' he asked. 'Hellgate,' answered a sailor. 'God ha' mercy on me!' groaned Mike; 'I promised my master I'd follow him to the gates o' hell, but I didna say I'd gang through with him.' However, the vessel floated off with the tide, carried its passengers safely into the city, and Mike lived to be a gardener on Plum Point." "Is that a real, true story, papa?" asked Elsie. "I think so," he said. "I suppose," said Grandma Elsie, "some--perhaps all--of you have heard an anecdote in connection with that dining room of the Hasbrouck House--published in the New York _Mirror_ for 1834?"