“He’m werry sing’lar how a young folk do forget! ’Ere war’ drown six people in dat werry-boat. A two Yankee, a Canada Frenchman, and a poor woman from a Jarseys. Ebbery body war’ werry sorry for a poor woman from a Jarseys!” “Thy tally is false, Master Cupid,” promptly rejoined the Alderman, who was rather expert at figures. “Two Yankees, a Frenchman, and your Jersey woman, make but four.” “Well, den I s’pose ’ere war’ one Yankee; but I, know all war’ drown, for ’e Gubbenor lose he fine coach-horses in dat werry-boat.” “The old fellow is right, sure enough; for I remember the calamity of the horses, as if it were but yesterday. But Death is monarch of the earth, and none of us may hope to escape his scythe, when the appointed hour shall come! Here are no nags to lose, to-day; and we may commence our voyage, Patroon, with cheerful faces and light hearts. Shall we proceed?” Oloff Van Staats, or the Patroon of Kinderhook, as, by the courtesy of the colony, he was commonly termed, did not want for personal firmness. On the contrary, like most of those who were descended from the Hollanders, he was rather distinguished for steadiness in danger, and obstinacy in resistance. The little skirmish which had just taken place, between his friend and his slave, had proceeded from the several apprehensions; the one feeling a sort of parental interest in his safety, and the other having particular reasons for wishing him to persevere in his intention to embark, instead of any justifiable cause in the character of the young proprietor himself. A sign to the boy who bore a portmanteau, settled the controversy; and then Mr. Van Staats intimated his readiness to move. Cupid lingered on the stoop, until his master had turned a corner; then, shaking his head with all the misgivings of an ignorant and superstitious mind, he drove the young fry of blacks, who thronged the door, into the house, closing all after him with singular and scrupulous care. How far the presentiment of the black was warranted by the event, will be seen in the course of the narrative. The wide avenue, in which Oloff Van Staats dwelt, was but a few hundred yards in length. It terminated, at one end, with the fortress; and at the other, it was crossed by a high stockade, which bore the name of the city walls; a defence that was provided against any sudden irruption of the Indians, who then hunted, and even dwelt in some numbers, in the lower counties of the colony. It requires great familiarity with the growth of the town, to recognize, in this description, the noble street that now runs for a league through the centre of the island. From this avenue, which was then, as it is still, called the Broadway, our adventurers descended into a lower quarter of the town, holding free converse by the way.