tcoat, resumed all his weapons and his
pack and turned away. The sailors were still sitting on the log,
gazing at each other in amazement and awe. Neither had spoken
throughout the duel, nor did they speak now. The victor did not look
back, but walked swiftly toward the north, glad that he had been the
instrument in the hands of fate to give to the slaver at least a part
of the punishment due him.

He kept steadily on several hours, until he saw a smoke on the western
sky, when he changed his course and came in another half hour to a
small log house, from which the smoke arose. A man standing on the
wooden step looked at him with all the curiosity to which he had a
right.

"Friend," said Robert, "how far is it to New York?"

"About ten miles."

"And this is not the coast of Acadia."

"Acadia! What country is that? I never heard of it."

"It exists, but never mind. And New York is so near? Tell me that
distance again. I like to hear it."

"Ten miles, stranger. When you reach the top of the hill there you can
see the houses of Paulus Hook."

Robert felt a great sense of elation, and then of thankfulness. While
fortune had been cruel in putting him into the hands of the slaver, it
had relented and had taken him out of them, when the chance of escape
seemed none.

"Stranger," said the man, "you look grateful about something."

"I am. I have cause to be grateful. I'm grateful that I have my life,
I'm grateful that I have no wounds and I'm grateful that from the top
of the hill there I shall be able to see the houses of Paulus
Hook. And I say also that yours is the kindliest and most welcome face
I've looked upon in many a day. Farewell."

"Farewell," said the man, staring after him.

Two hours later Robert was being rowed across the Hudson by a stalwart
waterman. As he passed by the spot where his boat had been cut down by
the schooner he took off his hat.

"Why do you do that?" asked the waterman.

"Because at this spot my life was in great peril a few days ago, or
rather, here started the peril from which I have been delivered most
mercifully."

An hour later he stood on the solid stone doorstep of Master Benjamin
Hardy, important ship owner, merchant and financier. The whimsical
fancy that so often turned his troubles and hardships into little
things seized Robert again. He adjusted carefully his somewhat
bedraggled clothing, set the sword and pistols in his belt at a rakish
slant, put the pack on the