The collar of his cloak was drawn so high now that it formed almost a hood around his head and face, but he turned a little, and Robert saw the blue eyes, as blue as his own, twinkling with a humorous light.  It was borne upon him with renewed force that here was a champion of romance and high adventure.  St. Luc was a survival.  He was one of those knights of the Middle Ages who rode forth with lance and sword to do battle, perhaps for a lady’s favor, and perhaps to crush the infidel.  His own spirit, which had in it a lightness, a gayety and a humor akin to St. Luc’s, responded at once.

“Since you found the play most excellent, and I had the same delight, I presume that you will stay for all the others.  Mr. Hallam and his fine company are in New York for two weeks, if not longer.  Having come so far and at such uncommon risks, you will not content yourself with a single performance?”

“Alas! that is the poison in my cup.  The leave of absence given me by the Governor General of Canada is but brief, and I can remain in this city and stronghold of my enemy but a single night.”

They passed several men, but none took any notice of them.  The day had increased in gloominess.  Heavy clouds were coming up from the sea, enveloping the solid town in a thick and somber atmosphere.  Snow began to fall and a sharp wind drove the flakes before it.  Pedestrians bent forward, and drew their cloaks or coats about their faces to protect themselves from the storm.

“The weather favors us,” said St. Luc.  “The people of New York defending themselves from the wind and the flakes will have no time to be looking for an enemy among them.”

“Where are we going, chevalier?”

“That I know not, but being young, healthy and strong, perhaps we walk in a circle for the sake of exercise.”

“For which also you have come to New York—­in order that you may walk about our Battery and Bowling Green.”

“True!  Quite true!  You have a most penetrating mind, Mr. Lennox, and since we speak of the objects of my errand here I recall a third, but of course, a minor motive.”

“I am interested in that third and minor motive, Chevalier de St. Luc.”

“I noticed last night at the play that you were speaking to a merchant, one Adrian Van Zoon.”

“’Tis true, but how do you know Van Zoon?”

“Let it suffice, lad, that I know him and know him well.  I wish you to beware of him.”

He spoke with a sudden softness of tone that touched Robert, and there could be no doubt that his meaning was good.  They were still walking in the most casual manner, their faces bent to the driving snow, and almost hidden by the collars of their cloaks.

“What can Adrian Van Zoon and I have in common?” asked Robert.

“Lad, I bid thee again to beware of him!  Look to it that you do not fall into his treacherous hands!”

His sudden use of the pronoun “thee,” and his intense earnestness, stirred Robert deeply.