on of the author, whose fame had been known in France
long before his own departure from Europe, and not a little consoled with
the reflection that he had contributed his mite to support the honor of
his distant and well-beloved country, the honest Francois pressed the
volume affectionately beneath his arm, and hastened on after his mistress.

Though the position of Staten Island and its surrounding bays is so
familiar to the Manhattanese an explanation of the localities may be
agreeable to readers who dwell at a distance from the scene of the tale.

It has already been said, that the principal communication between the
bays of Raritan and York, is called the Narrows. At the mouth of this
passage, the land on Staten Island rises in a high bluff, which overhangs
the water, not unlike the tale-fraught cape of Misenum. From this elevated
point, the eye not only commands a view of both estuaries and the city,
but it looks far beyond the point of Sandy-Hook, into the open sea. It is
here that, in our own days, ships are first noted in the offing, and
whence the news of the approach of his vessel is communicated to the
expecting merchant by means of the telegraph. In the early part of the
last century, arrivals were too rare to support such an establishment. The
bluff was therefore little resorted to, except by some occasional admirer
of scenery, or by those countrymen whom business, at long intervals, drew
to the spot. It had been early cleared of its wood, and the oak already
mentioned was the only tree standing in a space of some ten or a dozen
acres.

It has been seen that Alderman Van Beverout had appointed this solitary
oak, as the place of rendezvous with Francois. Thither then he took his
way on parting from the valet, and to this spot we must now transfer the
scene. A rude seat had been placed around the root of the tree, and here
the whole party, with the exception of the absent domestic, were soon
seated: In a minute, however, they were joined by the exulting Francois,
who immediately related the particulars of his recent interview with the
stranger.

"A clear conscience, with cordial friends, and a fair balance-sheet, may
keep a man warm in January, even in this climate," said the Alderman,
willing to turn the discourse; "but what with rebellious blacks, hot
streets, and spoiling furs, it passeth mortal powers to keep cool in
yonder overgrown and crowded town. Thou seest, Patroon, the spot of white
on the oppos