“Have you not heard the rumors? Some people here in the city believe that there is danger from a French fleet. They have not forgotten how helpless Stuyvesant was in '64. I tell you, St. Vincent, there is no danger from the sea. Frontenac is the man to fear. I would wager my estate he is coming through the wilderness, and has set these notions in the air himself to keep attention off from Albany. He is a shrewd old fox, and if the troops are stopped we shall get a message down the river soon: likely as not the county’s greeting and news that Fort Orange is taken.” “If all this is true why should Lady Marmaduke oppose it?” “Because she is a fool. She believes the gossip of the street. She has already tried to convince the Earl. But he has more sense. I hate him, but, I declare, he demands respect in this.” We had reached the patroon’s door by this time, and the clerk who had signed the note came out to meet him. “When does the Assembly adjourn?” asked the patroon aloud, after a short whispered consultation. “They have moved to adjourn for a week at noon to-day.” “Can Lady Marmaduke sway them to her wishes?” “There is little doubt of it.” “Then she must be kept away. St. Vincent, ride to Marmaduke Hall. Keep the mistress in conversation for an hour and a half. Ask her what became of Le Bourse. Tell her I shall oust her from her estate, break her title, anything you please. Stay there till noon and occupy her time. She must not stop the troops. Go; instantly!” There was no resisting the patroon’s haste. In the next breath I was galloping at breakneck speed to my lady’s house. What a coincidence! All the forenoon I had been racking my brain to find a way to meet her and withdraw from my task of spy. Now the chance was made. It filled my mind. Before I turned the first corner the Earl, the troops, and Albany were quite forgotten. I could think only of the stormy meeting before me and how I had best carry it through. I banged the brass knocker with a will, and was shown into the receiving room. The name I sent to the mistress was Henrie St. Vincent, of the Hanging Rock. She knew it and came in a trice. “What news do you bring?” she cried, sweeping into the room like a blast of wind. “How do you come so openly, Le Bourse?” “St. Vincent.” “Tush! There is no one to hear. What is your news. What have you learned?” “Nothing.” “Nothing? Then why do you come here?” “I am tired of my work. I want to give it up.” “Give up? You coward!” “I knew you would say that.” “Then you deserve it.” “I do not.” “Explain yourself.” I told her briefly the confidence that the patroon had placed in me and the way the deception gnawed my conscience. I did not move her in the least. Her lips curled in scorn and she gripped her hands together till they were all mottled red and white with the pressure. “Sit down,” she said in a tone so cold and biting that it made me shiver. “If you are going to leave my service I shall dismiss you like a man.”