When he left the library it was about noon, the day being cloudy and dark with flurries of snow, those who were in the streets shivering with the raw cold.  Robert drew his own heavy cloak closely about him, and, bending his head a little, strolled toward the Battery, in order to look again at the ships that came from so many parts of the earth.  A stranger, walking in slouching fashion, and with the collar of his coat pulled well up about his face, shambled directly in his way.  When Robert turned the man turned also and said in a low tone: 

“Mr. Lennox!”

“St. Luc!” exclaimed Robert.  “Are you quite mad?  Don’t you know that your life is in danger every instant?”

“I am not mad, nor is the risk as great as you think.  Walk on by my side, as if you knew me.”

“I did not think, chevalier, that your favorite role was that of a spy.”

“Nor is it.  This New York of yours is a busy city, and a man, even a Frenchman, may come here for other reasons than to learn military secrets.”

Robert stared at him, but St. Luc admonished him again to look in front of him, and walk on as if they were old acquaintances on some business errand.

“I don’t think you want to betray me to the English,” he said.

“No, I don’t,” said Robert, “though my duty, perhaps, should make me do so.”

“But you won’t.  I felt assured of it, else I should not have spoken to you.”

“What duty, other than that of a spy, can have brought you to New York?”

“Why make it a duty?  It is true the times are troubled, and full of wars, but one, on occasion, may seek his pleasure, nevertheless.  Let us say that I came to New York to see the play which both of us witnessed last night.  ’Twas excellently done.  I have seen plays presented in worse style at much more pretentious theaters in Paris.  Moreover I, a Frenchman, love Shakespeare.  I consider him the equal of our magnificent Moliere.”

“Which means that if you were not a Frenchman you would think him better.”

“A pleasant wit, Mr. Lennox.  I am glad to see it in you.  But you will admit that I have come a long distance and incurred a great risk to attend a play by a British author given in a British town, though it must be admitted that the British town has strong Dutch lineaments.  Furthermore, I do bear witness that I enjoyed the play greatly.  ’Twas worth the trouble and the danger.”

“Since you insist, chevalier, that you came so great a distance and incurred so great a risk merely to worship at the shrine of our Shakespeare, as one gentleman to another I cannot say that I doubt your word.  But when we sailed down the Hudson on a sloop, and were compelled to tie up in a cove to escape the wrath of a storm, I saw you on the slope above me.”

“I saw you, too, then, Mr. Lennox, and I envied you your snug place on the sloop.  That storm was one of the most unpleasant incidents in my long journey to New York to see Shakespeare’s ‘Richard III.’  Still, when one wishes a thing very badly one must be willing to pay a high price for it.  It was a good play by a good writer, the actors were most excellent, and I have had sufficient reward for my trouble and danger.”