The patroon was proud of his display, and took a roundabout way to reach the fort. When we drew near, all the neighborhood was in confusion. A great crowd blocked the street from one side to another. Everyone’s attention was fixed on the stone gateway and the massive gates that barred it. When I saw that the gates were closed, I wondered whether there had been an alarm. My thought was soon answered. A bugle from within the walls rang out clear on the frosty air. The notes, beautiful as they were, fell on my ears with a chill foreboding sound. The murmur of the people softened. The great iron-bound gates swung back. There was the throbbing sound of a drum and the dull tramp of soldiers marching. Three of the four garrison companies passed out in a long narrow line, down to the river, and embarked to Albany. This is what Pierre had foretold. The soldiers were gone. The city was now almost defenseless. But its only other danger, the patroon, had espoused its cause. No wonder the people shouted: “God save the good patroon, the defender of the city.” When the Earl’s troops were gone, followed by many of the spectators, I glanced through the gate into the courtyard of the fort. The Earl of Bellamont, surrounded by most of the members of his council, were still seated upon their horses in front of the executive mansion. Patroon Van Volkenberg gave orders for his troops to remain drawn up in the street; then he rode into the paved courtyard of the fort, accompanied by Louis and myself. After he had saluted the governor and his associates, the patroon cleared his throat a little and began to speak. “Your Excellency,” he said, “I come to beg no favors, to make no excuses. I have been guilty of many acts which I performed with my eyes wide open, knowing what the consequences would be, and I have likewise suffered the consequences as I should. But that is not what I came to talk about. By the grace of God, I have suffered a change of heart. If it is not too late I should like to make amends for my past acts. Vincent, present this paper to the Earl.” I handed the document which he had withdrawn from his pocket to the Earl. Bellamont’s face took on an expression of surprise as he read. Suddenly he exclaimed: “Why, this is the title to your estate of Hanging Rock.” “Yes, it is that,” answered the patroon. “I know that it is your desire to recall the lavish grants of your predecessor; and I have come to see, in spite of my former acts, that they are a danger to the safety of the province. Therefore I have brought myself to the point of resigning my claim into your hands, hoping thereby to make some amends for what I have done in the past times to oppose the purpose of your administration. I have brought my household with me, armed and at your service, and I pray that you will receive them into the fort, subject them to your own officers, and let me repair to my home until you have disposed of my title as the welfare of the province prompts you.”