“I suppose,” said Willet, “that while here we might take our full share of Virginia hospitality, which is equal to any on earth, because, as I see it, before very long we will be in the woods where so much to eat and drink will not be offered to us.  March and battle will train us down.”

The dinner to thirty guests was spread in the great room of the tavern and the black servants of Stuart and Cabell, well trained, dextrous and clad in livery, helped those of the landlord to serve.  The abundance and quality of the food were amazing.  Besides the resources of civilization, air, wood and water were drawn upon for game.  Virginia, already renowned for hospitality, was resolved that through her young sons, Stuart and Cabell, she should do her best that night.

A dozen young British officers were present, and there was much toasting and conviviality.  The tie of kinship between the old country and the new seemed stronger here than in New England, where the England of Cromwell still prevailed, or in New York, where the Dutch and other influences not English were so powerful.  They had begun with the best of feeling, and it was heightened by the warmth that food and drink bring.  They talked with animation of the great adventure, on which they would soon start, as Stuart and Cabell and most of the Virginians were going with Braddock.  They drank a speedy capture of Fort Duquesne, and confusion to the French and their red allies.

Robert, imitating the example of Tayoga, ate sparingly and scarcely tasted the punch.  About eleven o’clock, the night being warm, unusually warm for that early period of spring, and nearly all the guests having joined in the singing, more or less well, of patriotic songs, Robert, thinking that his absence would not be noticed, walked outside in search of coolness and air.

It was but a step from the lights and brilliancy of the tavern to the darkness of Williamsburg’s single avenue.  There were no street lanterns, and only a moon by which to see.  He could discern the dim bulk of William and Mary College and of the Governor’s Palace, but except near at hand the smaller buildings were lost in the dusk.  A breeze touched with salt, as if from the sea, was blowing, and its touch was so grateful on Robert’s face that he walked on, hat in hand, while the wind played on his cheeks and forehead and lifted his hair.  Then a darker shadow appeared in the darkness, and St. Luc stood before him.

“Why do you come here!  Why do you incur such danger?  Don’t you know that I must give warning of your presence?” exclaimed Robert passionately.

The Frenchman laughed lightly.  He seemed very well pleased with himself, and then he hummed: 

  “Hier sur le pont d’Avignon
   J’ai oui chanter la belle
        Lon, la.”

“Your danger is great!” repeated Robert.

“Not as great as you think,” said St. Luc.  “You will not protect me.  You will warn the British officers that a French spy is here.  I read it in your face at the race today, and moreover, I know you better than you know yourself.  I know, too, more about you than you know about yourself.  Did I not warn you in New York to beware of Mynheer Adrian Van Zoon?”