There was no other answer to be had. The rider passed the park without stopping or slackening his speed, which we could now tell was breakneck and wild to the extreme. Where he was going and for what purpose we could not tell. Gradually the sound died away and left us gaping at the blank dark. After that we went back into the house, the patroon muttering curses upon the dwarf for his absence. CHAPTER XXIV CAPTAIN WILLIAM KIDD Though we sat together for some time after that, little enough passed between us. I had my own thoughts and so had the patroon. Whatever was in his mind I could not tell, but I thought that it was Louis. For if there was the least sound outside he would start up expectantly; and when, as always happened, Louis did not appear, his face would grow black, and the corners of his mouth would drop down, as they did in his worst moments. I hardly wonder, considering what followed later, that he was ill at ease. In all likelihood, he suspected the real cause of Louis’s absence and knew much better than I did in what danger it would involve himself. However, the whole evening was not to be given up to hopeless grumbling after the lost henchman. I had first come to New York in August, as you will remember, and it was now late in November. The roads were still hard, witness the sharp clattering ring of the horseman who had ridden by shortly before on the frozen ground; but at any day now we might expect the bad weather to set in and difficult roads to follow. We had heard the horseman ride by about nine o’clock. For two hours the patroon fussed and fumed and visited the clock in the hall so often that it scarce seemed to leave time for him to do anything else. I wondered why he should be so anxious about the clock, when he explained the motive all of a sudden. “Get on your cloak. It is time for us to go. This is the errand I spoke to you about this morning.” I asked no questions—no one ever did of the patroon, especially when he was in a bad humor. No one ever dared to approach him on a forbidden subject, and I knew enough to know my place if I knew nothing else. So I wrapped myself up warm and the two of us set out on foot. We followed the narrow path that led down to the river. It was steep walking part of the way, but we managed to stumble to the end of it in safety. At the landing we found the patroon’s barge waiting for us. Eight negro slaves were at the oars and an overseer held the tiller. “Have you seen the signal?” asked Van Volkenberg. “Yes, about ten minutes ago for the first time, and twice since. He seems to be in a hurry.” “Very well. Let him know that we are coming. Get in, St. Vincent.” As soon as we were seated, word was given to the slaves, and the barge shot out into the current, turning southward towards the town.