Programming Ruby 1 9 2 0 Dave Thomas download

https://ebookultra.com/download/programming-ruby-1-9-2-0-dave-
thomas/

Explore and download more ebooks or textbooks

at ebookultra.com
 We believe these products will be a great fit for you. Click
the link to download now, or visit ebookultra.com
to discover even more!

Windows PowerShell 2 0 Bible 1st Edition Thomas Lee

https://ebookultra.com/download/windows-powershell-2-0-bible-1st-
edition-thomas-lee/

Programming Collective Intelligence Building Smart Web 2 0

Applications 1st Edition Toby Segaran

https://ebookultra.com/download/programming-collective-intelligence-
building-smart-web-2-0-applications-1st-edition-toby-segaran/

Metaprogramming Ruby 2 Program Like the Ruby Pros 2nd

Edition Paolo Perrotta

https://ebookultra.com/download/metaprogramming-ruby-2-program-like-
the-ruby-pros-2nd-edition-paolo-perrotta/

Foundations of Object Oriented Programming Using NET 2 0

Patterns 1st Edition Christian Gross (Auth.)

https://ebookultra.com/download/foundations-of-object-oriented-
programming-using-net-2-0-patterns-1st-edition-christian-gross-auth/
Practical JRuby on Rails Web 2 0 projects bringing Ruby on
Rails to the Java platform 1st Edition Ola Bini

https://ebookultra.com/download/practical-jruby-on-rails-
web-2-0-projects-bringing-ruby-on-rails-to-the-java-platform-1st-
edition-ola-bini/

JBuilder 7 0 EJB Programming Chuck Easttom

https://ebookultra.com/download/jbuilder-7-0-ejb-programming-chuck-
easttom/

Agenda Setting in a 2 0 World New Agendas in Communication

1st Edition Thomas J. Johnson

https://ebookultra.com/download/agenda-setting-in-a-2-0-world-new-
agendas-in-communication-1st-edition-thomas-j-johnson/

ActionScript 2 0 Garage Tara Calishain

https://ebookultra.com/download/actionscript-2-0-garage-tara-
calishain/

Beginning ASP NET 2 0 Chris Hart

https://ebookultra.com/download/beginning-asp-net-2-0-chris-hart/
Programming Ruby 1 9 2 0 Dave Thomas Digital Instant
Download
Author(s): Dave Thomas, Chad Fowler, Andy Hunt
ISBN(s): 9781934356852, 1934356859
Edition: r
File Details: PDF, 18.01 MB
Year: 2013
Language: english
www.it-ebooks.info
www.it-ebooks.info
Programming Ruby 1.9 & 2.0
The Pragmatic Programmers’ Guide

Dave Thomas
with Chad Fowler
Andy Hunt

The Pragmatic Bookshelf

Dallas, Texas • Raleigh, North Carolina

www.it-ebooks.info
Many of the designations used by manufacturers and sellers to distinguish their products are claimed
as trademarks. Where those designations appear in this book, and The Pragmatic Programmers, LLC
was aware of a trademark claim, the designations have been printed in initial capital letters or in all
capitals. The Pragmatic Starter Kit, The Pragmatic Programmer, Pragmatic Programming, Pragmatic
Bookshelf, PragProg and the linking g device are trademarks of The Pragmatic Programmers, LLC.
Every precaution was taken in the preparation of this book. However, the publisher assumes no re-
sponsibility for errors or omissions, or for damages that may result from the use of information (in-
cluding program listings) contained herein.
Our Pragmatic courses, workshops, and other products can help you and your team create better
software and have more fun. For more information, as well as the latest Pragmatic titles, please visit
us at http://pragprog.com.
The team that produced this book includes:
Janet Furlow (producer)
Juliet Benda (rights)
Ellie Callahan (support)

Copyright © 2013 The Pragmatic Programmers, LLC.

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying,
recording, or otherwise, without the prior consent of the publisher.

Printed in the United States of America.

ISBN-13: 978-1-93778-549-9
Encoded using the finest acid-free high-entropy binary digits.
Book version: P1.0—June, 2013

www.it-ebooks.info
 Contents
Foreword to the Third Edition . . . . . . . . . . ix

Preface . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xi

Road Map . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv

Part I — Facets of Ruby

1. Getting Started . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3
1.1 The Command Prompt 3
1.2 Installing Ruby 5
1.3 Running Ruby 9
1.4 Ruby Documentation: RDoc and ri 11

2. Ruby.new . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15
2.1 Ruby Is an Object-Oriented Language 15
2.2 Some Basic Ruby 17
2.3 Arrays and Hashes 20
2.4 Symbols 21
2.5 Control Structures 23
2.6 Regular Expressions 24
2.7 Blocks and Iterators 25
2.8 Reading and ’Riting 27
2.9 Command-Line Arguments 28
2.10 Onward and Upward 28

3. Classes, Objects, and Variables . . . . . . . . . . 29

3.1 Objects and Attributes 32
3.2 Classes Working with Other Classes 37
3.3 Access Control 40
3.4 Variables 43

4. Containers, Blocks, and Iterators . . . . . . . . . . 45

4.1 Arrays 45
4.2 Hashes 47
4.3 Blocks and Iterators 52
4.4 Containers Everywhere 68

www.it-ebooks.info
 Contents • iv

5. Sharing Functionality: Inheritance, Modules, and Mixins . . . . 69

5.1 Inheritance and Messages 69
5.2 Modules 73
5.3 Mixins 75
5.4 Iterators and the Enumerable Module 77
5.5 Composing Modules 77
5.6 Inheritance, Mixins, and Design 80

6. Standard Types . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 83
6.1 Numbers 83
6.2 Strings 86
6.3 Ranges 90

7. Regular Expressions . . . . . . . . . . . . . 93
7.1 What Regular Expressions Let You Do 93
7.2 Ruby’s Regular Expressions 94
7.3 Digging Deeper 96
7.4 Advanced Regular Expressions 105

8. More About Methods . . . . . . . . . . . . 115

8.1 Defining a Method 115
8.2 Calling a Method 118

9. Expressions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 125
9.1 Operator Expressions 126
9.2 Miscellaneous Expressions 127
9.3 Assignment 128
9.4 Conditional Execution 132
9.5 case Expressions 136
9.6 Loops 138
9.7 Variable Scope, Loops, and Blocks 142

10. Exceptions, catch, and throw . . . . . . . . . . 145

10.1 The Exception Class 145
10.2 Handling Exceptions 146
10.3 Raising Exceptions 150
10.4 catch and throw 151

11. Basic Input and Output . . . . . . . . . . . . 153

11.1 What Is an IO Object? 153
11.2 Opening and Closing Files 153
11.3 Reading and Writing Files 154
11.4 Talking to Networks 158
11.5 Parsing HTML 159

12. Fibers, Threads, and Processes . . . . . . . . . . 161

12.1 Fibers 161
12.2 Multithreading 163
12.3 Controlling the Thread Scheduler 167

www.it-ebooks.info
 Contents •v

12.4 Mutual Exclusion 167

12.5 Running Multiple Processes 170

13. Unit Testing . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 175

13.1 The Testing Framework 177
13.2 Structuring Tests 181
13.3 Organizing and Running Tests 183
13.4 RSpec and Shoulda 186
13.5 Test::Unit assertions 193

14. When Trouble Strikes! . . . . . . . . . . . . 195

14.1 Ruby Debugger 195
14.2 Interactive Ruby 196
14.3 Editor Support 197
14.4 But It Doesn’t Work! 198
14.5 But It’s Too Slow! 201

Part II — Ruby in Its Setting

15. Ruby and Its World . . . . . . . . . . . . 209
15.1 Command-Line Arguments 209
15.2 Program Termination 214
15.3 Environment Variables 214
15.4 Where Ruby Finds Its Libraries 216
15.5 RubyGems Integration 217
15.6 The Rake Build Tool 222
15.7 Build Environment 224

16. Namespaces, Source Files, and Distribution . . . . . . . 225

16.1 Namespaces 225
16.2 Organizing Your Source 226
16.3 Distributing and Installing Your Code 233

17. Character Encoding . . . . . . . . . . . . 239

17.1 Encodings 240
17.2 Source Files 240
17.3 Transcoding 245
17.4 Input and Output Encoding 246
17.5 Default External Encoding 248
17.6 Encoding Compatibility 249
17.7 Default Internal Encoding 250
17.8 Fun with Unicode 251

18. Interactive Ruby Shell . . . . . . . . . . . . 253

18.1 Command Line 253
18.2 Commands 260

19. Documenting Ruby . . . . . . . . . . . . 263

19.1 Adding RDoc to Ruby Code 266
19.2 Adding RDoc to C Extensions 269

www.it-ebooks.info
 Contents • vi

19.3 Running RDoc 271

19.4 Ruby source file documented with RDoc 272
19.5 C source file documented with RDoc 274

20. Ruby and the Web . . . . . . . . . . . . . 277

20.1 Writing CGI Scripts 277
20.2 Using cgi.rb 277
20.3 Templating Systems 280
20.4 Cookies 284
20.5 Choice of Web Servers 286
20.6 Frameworks 287

21. Ruby and Microsoft Windows . . . . . . . . . . 289

21.1 Running Ruby Under Windows 289
21.2 Win32API 289
21.3 Windows Automation 290

Part III — Ruby Crystallized

22. The Ruby Language . . . . . . . . . . . . 297
22.1 Source File Encoding 297
22.2 Source Layout 297
22.3 The Basic Types 299
22.4 Names 306
22.5 Variables and Constants 308
22.6 Expressions, Conditionals, and Loops 316
22.7 Method Definition 323
22.8 Invoking a Method 327
22.9 Aliasing 330
22.10 Class Definition 331
22.11 Module Definitions 333
22.12 Access Control 335
22.13 Blocks, Closures, and Proc Objects 335
22.14 Exceptions 339
22.15 catch and throw 341

23. Duck Typing . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 343

23.1 Classes Aren’t Types 344
23.2 Coding like a Duck 348
23.3 Standard Protocols and Coercions 349
23.4 Walk the Walk, Talk the Talk 355

24. Metaprogramming . . . . . . . . . . . . . 357

24.1 Objects and Classes 357
24.2 Singletons 360
24.3 Inheritance and Visibility 365
24.4 Modules and Mixins 366
24.5 Metaprogramming Class-Level Macros 372
24.6 Two Other Forms of Class Definition 377

www.it-ebooks.info
 Contents • vii

24.7 instance_eval and class_eval 379

24.8 Hook Methods 383
24.9 One Last Example 388
24.10 Top-Level Execution Environment 390
24.11 The Turtle Graphics Program 391

25. Reflection, ObjectSpace, and Distributed Ruby . . . . . . 393

25.1 Looking at Objects 393
25.2 Looking at Classes 394
25.3 Calling Methods Dynamically 396
25.4 System Hooks 398
25.5 Tracing Your Program’s Execution 400
25.6 Behind the Curtain: The Ruby VM 402
25.7 Marshaling and Distributed Ruby 403
25.8 Compile Time? Runtime? Anytime! 408

26. Locking Ruby in the Safe . . . . . . . . . . . 409

26.1 Safe Levels 410
26.2 Tainted Objects 410
26.3 Trusted Objects 411
26.4 Definition of the safe levels 412

Part IV — Ruby Library Reference

27. Built-in Classes and Modules . . . . . . . . . . 417

28. Standard Library . . . . . . . . . . . . . 729

A1. Support . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 829

A1.1 Web Sites 829
A1.2 Usenet Newsgroup 830
A1.3 Mailing Lists 830
A1.4 Bug Reporting 830

A2. Bibliography . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 831

Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 833

www.it-ebooks.info
 Foreword to the Third Edition
I wrote forewords to the previous two editions of this book. For the first edition, I wrote
about motivation. For the second edition, I wrote about miracles.
For this third edition, I’d like to write about courage. I always admire brave people. People
around Ruby seem to be brave, like the authors of this book. They were brave to jump in to
a relatively unknown language like Ruby. They were brave to try new technology. They
could have happily stayed with an old technology, but they didn’t. They built their own
world using new bricks and mortar. They were adventurers, explorers, and pioneers. By
their effort, we have a fruitful result—Ruby.
Now, I feel that I’ve created my own universe with help from those brave people. At first, I
thought it was a miniature universe, like the one in “Fessenden’s Worlds.” But now it seems
like a real universe. Countless brave people are now working with Ruby. They challenge
new things every day, trying to make the world better and bigger. I am very glad I am part
of the Ruby world.
I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books that should be written. But
now we have the first book, updated to the most recent. Enjoy.

Yukihiro Matsumoto, aka “Matz”

Japan, February 2009

www.it-ebooks.info report erratum • discuss

 Preface
This book is a new version of the PickAxe, as Programming Ruby is known to Ruby program-
mers. It is a tutorial and reference for versions 1.9 and 2.0 of the Ruby programming language.
Ruby 1.9 was a significant departure from previous versions. There are major changes in
string handling, the scoping of block variables, and the threading model. It has a new virtual
machine. The built-in libraries have grown, adding many hundreds of new methods and
almost a dozen new classes. The language now supports scores of character encodings,
making Ruby one of the only programming languages to live fully in the whole world.
Ruby 2.0 is a (fairly minor) incremental improvement on Ruby 1.9.

Why Ruby?
When Andy and I wrote the first edition, we had to explain the background and appeal of
Ruby. Among other things, we wrote, “When we discovered Ruby, we realized that we’d
found what we’d been looking for. More than any other language with which we have
worked, Ruby stays out of your way. You can concentrate on solving the problem at hand,
instead of struggling with compiler and language issues. That’s how it can help you become
a better programmer: by giving you the chance to spend your time creating solutions for
your users, not for the compiler.”
That belief is even stronger today. More than thirteen years later, Ruby is still my language
of choice: I use it for client applications and web applications. I use it to run our publishing
business (our online store, http://pragprog.com, is more than 40,000 lines of Rails code), and I
use it for all those little programming jobs I do just to get things running smoothly.
In all those years, Ruby has progressed nicely. A large number of methods have been added
to the built-in classes and modules, and the size of the standard library (those libraries
included in the Ruby distribution) has grown tremendously. The community now has a
standard documentation system (RDoc), and RubyGems has become the system of choice
for packaging Ruby code for distribution. We have a best-of-breed web application frame-
work, Ruby on Rails, with others waiting in the wings. We are leading the world when it
comes to testing, with tools such as RSpec and Cucumber, and we’re working through the
hard problems of packaging and dependency management. We’ve matured nicely.
But Ruby is older than that. The first release of this book happened on Ruby’s 20th birthday
(it was created on February 24, 1993). The release of Ruby 2.0 is a celebration of that
anniversary.

www.it-ebooks.info report erratum • discuss

 Preface • xii

Ruby Versions
1
This version of the PickAxe documents both Ruby 2.0 and Ruby 1.9.3.
Exactly what version of Ruby did I use to write this book? Let’s ask Ruby:
$ ruby -v
ruby 2.0.0p0 (2013-02-24 revision 39474) [x86_64-darwin12.2.0]

This illustrates an important point. Most of the code samples you see in this book are actually
executed each time I format the book. When you see some output from a program, that
output was produced by running the code and inserting the results into the book.

Changes in the Book

Throughout the book I’ve tried to mark differences between Ruby 1.9 and 2.0 using a small
symbol, like the one here. If you’re reading this as an ebook, you’ll see little arrows next to
New in 2.0⇣ this flag. Clicking those will take you to the next or previous 2.0 change. One change I didn’t
make: I decided to continue to use the word we when talking about the authors in the body
of the book. Many of the words come from the first edition, and I certainly don’t want to
claim any credit for Andy’s work on that book.

Changes in the Ruby 2.0 Printing

Compared to the major change that occurred between Ruby 1.8 and Ruby 1.9, the update to
Ruby 2 is fairly gentle. This book documents all the updated builtin class changes and the
new keyword arguments. It spends some time looking at lazy enumerators, and at the
updates to the regular expression engine. But, in general, users of Ruby 1.9 will feel right at
home, and folks still using Ruby 1.8 should consider skipping straight to Ruby 2.

Resources
Visit the Ruby website at http://www.ruby-lang.org to see what’s new. Chat with other Ruby
users on the newsgroup or mailing lists (see Appendix 1, Support, on page 829).
And I’d certainly appreciate hearing from you. Comments, suggestions, errors in the text,
and problems in the examples are all welcome. Email us at rubybook@pragprog.com.
2
If you find errors in the book, you can add them to the errata page. If you’re reading the
PDF version of the book, you can also report an erratum by clicking the link in the page
footers.
You’ll find links to the source code for almost all the book’s example code at http://www.prag-
prog.com/titles/ruby4.

1. Ruby version numbering used to follow the same scheme used for many other open source projects.
Releases with even minor version numbers—1.6, 1.8, and so on—were stable, public releases. These
are the releases that are prepackaged and made available on the various Ruby websites. Development
versions of the software had odd minor version numbers, such as 1.5 and 1.7. However, in 2007 Matz
broke with convention and made 1.9 a stable public release of Ruby.
2. http://www.pragprog.com/titles/ruby4/errata.html

www.it-ebooks.info report erratum • discuss

 Acknowledgments • xiii

Acknowledgments
The first International Ruby Conference had something like 32 attendees. We could all fit
into the tiny hotel bar and talk the night away. Things have changed. The annual conference
now sells out many hundreds of seats within hours, and an increasing number of secondary
conferences have sprung up to meet the needs of folks who can’t get to RubyConf.
As the community has grown, so has Ruby. The language and its libraries are now many
times bigger than they were back when the first edition of this book came out.
And as the language has grown, so has this book. The PickAxe is now massive, mostly
because I still want to document every single built-in class, module, and method. But a book
of this size can never be a solo undertaking. This edition builds on the work from the first
two editions, which included major contributions from Chad Fowler and Andy Hunt. Just
as significant, all three editions have been works created by the Ruby community. On the
mailing lists, in the forums, and on this book’s errata pages, hundreds of people have con-
tributed ideas, code, and corrections to make it better. As always, I owe every one of you a
big “thank you!” for all you have done and for all that you do. The Ruby community is still
as vibrant, interesting, and (mostly) friendly as it ever was—that’s quite an achievement
given the explosive growth we’ve enjoyed.
For the third (tenth anniversary) printing, Wayne E. Seguin was kind enough to check the
section on the wonderful tool RVM, and Luis Lavena checked the section on installing under
Windows, as well as the chapter on running Ruby on Windows. And I’d like to call Anthony
Burns a hero for doing an amazing job of reading through the changes as I was writing them,
3
but that would take away from the fact that he’s a true hero.
Getting this book into production has also been a challenge. Kim Wimpsett is the world’s
best copy editor—she’s the only copy editor I know who finds errors in code and fixes XML
markup. Any remaining errors in this book are a result of my mistyping her suggested cor-
rections. And, as we raced to get the book to the printer in time for RubyConf X, Janet Furlow
patiently kept us all on track.
Finally, I’m still deeply indebted to Yukihiro “Matz” Matsumoto, the creator of Ruby.
Throughout this prolonged period of growth and change, he has remained helpful, cheery,
and dedicated to polishing this gem of a language. The friendly and open spirit of the Ruby
community is a direct reflection of the person at its center.
Thank you all. Domo arigato gozaimasu.

Dave Thomas
The Pragmatic Programmers
dave@pragprog.com
June 2013

3. http://www.flickr.com/photos/pragdave/sets/72157625046498937/

www.it-ebooks.info report erratum • discuss

 Preface • xiv

Notation Conventions
Literal code examples are shown using a sans-serif font:
class SampleCode
def run
#...
end
end

Within the text, Fred#do_something is a reference to an instance method (in this case the method
4
do_something) of class Fred, Fred.new is a class method, and Fred::EOF is a class constant. The
decision to use a hash character to indicate instance methods was a tough one. It isn’t valid
Ruby syntax, but we thought that it was important to differentiate between the instance and
class methods of a particular class. When you see us write File.read, you know we’re talking
about the class method read. When instead we write File#read, we’re referring to the instance
method read. This convention is now standard in most Ruby discussions and documentation.
This book contains many snippets of Ruby code. Where possible, we’ve tried to show what
happens when they run. In simple cases, we show the value of expressions on the same line
as the expression. Here’s an example:
a = 1
b = 2
a + b # => 3

Here, you can see that the result of evaluating a + b is the value 3, shown to the right of the
arrow. Note that if you were to run this program, you wouldn’t see the value 3 output—
you’d need to use a method such as puts to write it out.
At times, we’re also interested in the values of assignment statements:
a = 1 # => 1
a + 2 # => 3

If the program produces more complex output, we show it after the program code:
3.times { puts "Hello!" }
produces:
Hello!
Hello!
Hello!

In some of the library documentation, we wanted to show where spaces appear in the output.
You’ll see these spaces as ␣ characters.
Command-line invocations are shown with literal text in a regular font, and parameters you
supply are shown in an italic font. Optional elements are shown in brackets.
ruby ‹ flags ›* progname ‹ arguments ›*

4. In some other Ruby documentation, you may see class methods written as Fred::new. This is perfectly
valid Ruby syntax; we just happen to think that Fred.new is less distracting to read.

www.it-ebooks.info report erratum • discuss

 Road Map
The main text of this book has four separate parts, each with its own personality and each
addressing different aspects of the Ruby language.
In Part I, Facets of Ruby, you’ll find a Ruby tutorial. It starts with some notes on getting Ruby
running on your system followed by a short chapter on some of the terminology and concepts
that are unique to Ruby. This chapter also includes enough basic syntax so that the other
chapters will make sense. The rest of the tutorial is a top-down look at the language. There
we talk about classes and objects, types, expressions, and all the other things that make up
the language. We end with chapters on unit testing and digging yourself out when trouble
strikes.
One of the great things about Ruby is how well it integrates with its environment. Part II,
Ruby in Its Setting, investigates this. Here you’ll find practical information on using Ruby:
using the interpreter options, using irb, documenting your Ruby code, and packaging your
Ruby gems so that others can enjoy them. You’ll also find tutorials on some common Ruby
tasks: using Ruby with the Web and using Ruby in a Microsoft Windows environment
(including wonderful things such as native API calls, COM integration, and Windows
Automation). We’ll also touch on using Ruby to access the Internet.
Part III, Ruby Crystallized, contains more advanced material. Here you’ll find all the gory
details about the language, the concept of duck typing, the object model, metaprogramming,
tainting, reflection, and marshaling. You could probably speed-read this the first time through,
but we think you’ll come back to it as you start to use Ruby in earnest.
The Ruby Library Reference is Part IV. It’s big. We document more than 1,300 methods in 57
built-in classes and modules (up from 800 methods in 40 classes and modules in the previous
edition). On top of that, we now document the library modules that are included in the
standard Ruby distribution (98 of them).
So, how should you read this book? Well, depending on your level of expertise with pro-
gramming in general and OO in particular, you may initially want to read just a few portions
of the book. Here are our recommendations.
If you’re a beginner, you may want to start with the tutorial material in Part I. Keep the
library reference close at hand as you start to write programs. Get familiar with the basic
classes such as Array, Hash, and String. As you become more comfortable in the environment,
you may want to investigate some of the more advanced topics in Part III.
If you’re already comfortable with Perl, Python, Java, or Smalltalk, then we suggest reading
Chapter 1, Getting Started, on page 3, which talks about installing and running Ruby, fol-
lowed by the introduction in Chapter 2, Ruby.new, on page 15. From there, you may want

www.it-ebooks.info report erratum • discuss

Random documents with unrelated
content Scribd suggests to you:
 “Hands off, you dog,” I cried. “Stand back or take the
consequences.”
“It is clear enough,” he replied. “She is the witch. You cannot be
trusted. But you are all I have. Listen to my story. When your sister
was murdered I got word secretly to Lady Marmaduke. The grave
was opened in her presence. She knew that his story about branding
her was a lie. Yet she would not act. She would not do what I
wanted her to. If she had, I should have told her the great secret.
But I did not and that must wait.” He turned on me sharply. “Will you
kill the patroon?”
“He asked me to do the same by you.”
“Me? When?”
“Four days ago.”
“The day he learned who Ronald was. I knew it would be so. Why
did you refuse?”
“I am not a murderer.”
“A spy?”
“No!”
“What then?”
I could not say. I stood in silent shame.
“Well,” continued the dwarf. “You are not ripe for the great secret
yet. But remember one thing. Back of the old oven there are some
loose bricks. If I die by violence, look there. You may do my bidding
yet.”
By this time we had reached his mother’s cottage. Miriam was
seated by the bed near which she had placed lighted candles. At our
entrance she rose and said that she would go home if I would take
her. We set out alone. The air blew very keen and chill in our faces
as we passed among the trees of the park. Little was said by either
of us till the first cold from leaving the house began to wear away by
our brisk walking. Then she began to speak of Meg and of how she
seemed happier before she died.
“She said that it was I who made her happier. In truth, I was so
happy myself. I had heard some soldiers talking about my father and
saying what I could never believe; though it distressed me so. Meg
told me how it was, and made me feel ashamed of myself. I had
heard that he was expelled in disgrace from the governor’s council.
But it cannot be so. Have you heard anything of it?”
“I know,” said I with hesitation, “that he is no longer a member of
the council. I have heard that when he left it he behaved with a
dignity that carried the day for honor.”
“How could it be otherwise? The Earl deals with doubtful means.
My father must have become disgusted with his dishonest practices
and resigned.”
I said nothing to contradict her, nor had I said aught but what was
strictly true. I remembered well the day we had baited him before
the great carved table in the fort, and how much dignity he had
shown at the end. Even then, for the moment, I had felt sorry for
what I had done. But my good impulses were short-lived; I had
much to lead me astray in those days.
“Mistress Van Volkenberg,” I said after a pause, “there is
something on my mind to say to you. You know that I am a
Protestant. I have had bitter feelings towards people of your faith
and bitter treatment from them for many years. But it has been my
lot to meet only the worst. I had a sister once”—here my voice
trembled and I was fain to stop for a moment—“I had a sister once
who tried to teach me better things. I was slow to profit by what she
said. But of late your example has made me see the wickedness of
my ways.”
“Do not follow me,” she replied. “I am so sinful; but I pray to the
blessed Virgin every night, and she sends me strength. I know that
she will give me heart to do my duty.”
“Do you really believe that?” I asked.
“Of course, if I pray. I shall get everything I pray for if I ought to
have it.”
She spoke with a simpleness of faith that I had never felt in spite
of my confident pretensions.
“I wish that I could share your belief. But there are things I have
prayed so for without result.”
“You must continue. I confess every night upon my knees. I wish I
could have a priest. I used to be afraid to confess my sins to a real
person, and that kept me good often when I should otherwise have
done wrong. Ah, me, there are no priests in the province now. The
new laws punish a priest with death if he come to us. I suppose they
will shut us out next.”
This injustice made my blood boil. I had been driven out of France
because our church had desired freedom to worship God in our own
way. Here the tables were completely turned and I could sympathize
with her.
When we arrived at the manor-house she told me that she was
going into the little chapel room to pray. Would I go with her? I said
“yes,” and was surprised at my answer. I stood near the door while
she knelt at the foot of the crucifix. When she arose I noticed that
there were two stools to kneel upon.
“Yes,” she said, observing the direction of my glance. “Little Ruth
and I used to kneel there side by side. She was of your faith, too.
Often she would put her arm about me and pray in her faith while I
prayed in mine. Holy Mother, rest her soul.”
She crossed herself devoutly and then we parted. In my own room
that night, or rather, morning, for it was nearly dawn when I reached
it, I fell to sobbing in great misery. I began to see the error of my
ways. I remembered Ruth’s words: “What shall I say at the great
day if they charge 'Your brother did this or that wrong in your name?
Answer me, Vincent, what shall I say?'”
I could do nothing but fall on my knees and cry, God be merciful
to me a sinner. After that I rose with more peace of mind. I put my
hand upon my bosom where Louis had laid his upon me, and drew
out the rosary which I had picked up when Miriam dropped it on the
floor of Meg’s cottage. I held it before me for a moment, then I put
it to my lips and kissed it as a sacred thing.
 CHAPTER XXII
A FRUITLESS RESOLUTION

This scene with Miriam put me in a state of bad humor, for all
there was in it to make me glad. It is seldom that sweet recollections
come unmixed with sour, and then the sour bite into our thoughts
and the sweet are clean forgotten. I ought to have been happy over
the dear picture of my sister and her friend praying together, each in
her own faith, as Miriam said. But I could think only of my own loss
in Ruth’s death, and of what wicked ways I had fallen into without
her to keep me free of pitfalls. It was useless to argue with myself
that I had been driven against my will; that, through my late career,
I had chosen what seemed to be the right path, or, at least, the
lesser of two evils. Such meditations gave me no comfort.
Here I actually was in the household of the patroon, a spy not
even owning my name. My present safety was due mainly to
Miriam’s intercession on my behalf. She had denied that I was a spy
and had vouched for my honesty. This added new weight to my
burden of remorse. I tossed wakefully on my bed at night,
wondering what would happen if she knew the truth. How she would
hate me and despise me when she found out who I was. I was not
only deceiving the patroon, acting a lie day by day; I was also
deceiving her, she who had been so kind to my sister, and whose
coveted belief in me had become more than I could contemplate.
So, when I rose in the morning after Meg’s death, I was full of a
new idea. Come what would of it, I should seek Lady Marmaduke
that very day and demand my release. I had gone to the manor-
house at her instigation and felt myself bound to her service; but I
would soon end that. Just how to accomplish the meeting had not
occurred to me as yet, but I could not fail to make a chance before
the day was over.
For an hour in the morning I was busy in my mind going over the
situation and trying to read the signs of the times. I knew well
enough that Van Volkenberg’s expulsion from the council was not the
end of his account with the governor. It was but one successful blow
from his enemy and was sure to be returned. Theirs was a bitter
struggle that I knew would end only with the utter annihilation of
one or the other of them.
Could Van Volkenberg possibly succeed? He was nearer to success
than I had any idea of at the time. There were many points in his
favor. Captain Kidd was about to arrive—in fact, he had arrived
during the night, but we did not know it then. His mission was now
familiar to everyone, and the fact that he would recruit his crew in
New York was also public. There were so many merchants in the city
whose trade would be hurt by the suppression of the buccaneers,
that ill-feeling against the Earl was running high. The patroon made
the most of this, coaxing here, explaining there, till all the
discontented faction began to look to him more than ever as their
leader against the Earl.
Had the patroon been ready to strike his blow a few days earlier, I
ween he had overturned the city.
Bellamont, on the other hand, was likely to suffer from too much
security, or fancied security. He was an easy-going man most of the
time; one who prided himself on his knowledge of the character of
men—a knowledge which he really did not possess at all. Through
me he had detected the plotting of the patroon. Governor Bellamont
thought that the retirement of his enemy from the council in
disgrace removed him altogether from the sphere of troublesome
elements that beset the King’s processes in the province. There was
one person, however, at his very right hand who realized the danger.
Hardly a day passed that Lady Marmaduke did not warn the Earl, did
not beseech him to use more care and watchfulness.
“No, no,” Bellamont would answer in his easy-going way. “I have
killed him now. I’ll get the Assembly to reverse his grant and we
shall hear no more of him.”
 But Lady Marmaduke knew better. If the Earl would not keep an
eye on the enemy she would. She had plotted without the Earl
before, and was willing to do so again. She had already
communicated once or twice with me. Through Annetje and Pierre,
all the doings at the manor-house were reported to her promptly.
She was ever watchful and employed half a dozen men to seek out
bits of gossip and trace home the vague rumors that were constantly
gaining ground—rumors of some mysterious danger that was about
to overwhelm the city.
I, too, was on the alert. I had been deeply fired at the patroon’s
part, whatever it was, in the death of my sister. Lady Marmaduke
had put her own burning spirit into my blood that time she pleaded
with me in her own house, that time she thrust her finger into the
candle and I smelled the burning flesh. But Miriam had come
between us and had dashed all our plans. In her presence I could
see nothing but my own shameless duplicity and the effect it would
have on her when she discovered my dishonesty.
In the manor-house itself all was at sixes and sevens. Though the
patroon seemed much relieved over the death of Meg, I could plainly
see that something was on his mind. On the day we had ridden
together about his estate he had pointed to the ocean and said that
the fortunes of the Red Band lay in that direction. One of the recent
rumors concerned the coming of a French fleet. Could he be
involved in that? I knew that there had been mysterious comings
and goings about the manor-house that I had no share in. Were
there other seamen to be met with at Wolfert Webber’s tavern? Now
that I look back upon these events, I wonder that I did not see the
danger that threatened us. But one who is in the midst of things is
ever blind.
Louis Van Ramm really held the key to everything, for he shared
his master’s most important secrets. It was not till later, however,
that I fully understood his character, or why he held back so long. He
hated his master and had hated him for years; but Louis had not the
power of action. Courage was not wanting in his makeup, but he
lacked that power of self-reliance that would enable him to take the
initiative in overthrowing the patroon. He knew that I was set on the
ruin of Van Volkenberg, and hoped to put the proper cards in my
hand, thinking that I would play them freely without let or
hindrance.
Such was the confused state of affairs at the time I made my
resolution to go to Lady Marmaduke and assert my independence of
her service. I should have set off alone for the city that morning had
not the patroon sent for me to accompany him to Yorke about ten
o’clock in the morning.
I said that Captain Kidd had arrived in the night, though we did
not know the fact when we set out. The wind was southerly that
morning, and we had not gone far, when it brought us the sound of
a gun.
“Ha,” said the patroon. “Doubtless that is to welcome the
Adventure.”
And sure enough it was. Kidd’s ship had been in the bay all night
and, as we soon found, was coming up to the town. It had been
some hour anchored when the patroon and I rode up to the Slip to
look at it.
“A tidy ship,” said the patroon after examining it as thoroughly as
he could from the shore. “One that could sail far with a safe crew.
New York must furnish him good recruits, St. Vincent.” He laughed in
a low, satisfied way, as if at some joke of his own. “Ay, we must
serve him with a good crew.”
I had thought that he had ridden to the city on business, but such
seemed not to be the case. We set out on our return immediately. To
be sure, we did not go directly home, but rode about in a wandering
way from street to street, like strangers viewing the town for the
first time. All the while my master glanced from side to side, eyeing
every person who passed as if he were in search of someone.
Suddenly I heard an exclamation. Van Volkenberg drew in his horse
just as a stranger stepped out from the stream of passengers at the
side of the street. This person was dressed in ordinary clothes, but I
knew from his walk that he was a seaman.
“Well, William,” said the patroon, as soon as they had greeted
each other, which they did warmly, as if they were old friends long
parted. “How does New York look to you now?”
 “Much as usual. But I see that the privy-council is changed a bit.”
“Ay, changed for the worst.” They both laughed good humoredly.
“What else do you notice?”
“Your French County seems to be on the warpath again.”
“Yes, there are rumors to that effect; but I put no faith in them.
Still, everyone believes them here. It would be a good thing for the
governor to garrison Fort Orange, if only to allay public excitement.
It would be easier to stop him at Albany than at any other place.”
At that moment one of Van Volkenberg’s clerks came up and put a
paper into his master’s hand.
“I have been looking everywhere for you.”
“Yes,” answered the patroon. “This needs my attention.” Then,
turning to the stranger, he continued: “I must back to the
warehouse, William. Remember our appointment; midnight on the
river.”
We rode off directly to the patroon’s warehouse on the Slip. Before
we had gone far the patroon put the letter into my hand. It was but
a line and signed by one of the confidential clerks. It read:
“Lady Marmaduke is about to appeal to the Assembly to stop the
troops.”
“It is Greek to me,” I answered. “What does it mean?”
“You suggested it yourself. Bellamont has decided to fortify Albany,
and is going to send off three of the city companies to-morrow or
next day.”
“What has Lady Marmaduke to do with it? Why does she want the
troops stopped?”
“Have you not heard the rumors? Some people here in the city
believe that there is danger from a French fleet. They have not
forgotten how helpless Stuyvesant was in '64. I tell you, St. Vincent,
there is no danger from the sea. Frontenac is the man to fear. I
would wager my estate he is coming through the wilderness, and
has set these notions in the air himself to keep attention off from
Albany. He is a shrewd old fox, and if the troops are stopped we
shall get a message down the river soon: likely as not the county’s
greeting and news that Fort Orange is taken.”
“If all this is true why should Lady Marmaduke oppose it?”
 “Because she is a fool. She believes the gossip of the street. She
has already tried to convince the Earl. But he has more sense. I hate
him, but, I declare, he demands respect in this.”
We had reached the patroon’s door by this time, and the clerk
who had signed the note came out to meet him.
“When does the Assembly adjourn?” asked the patroon aloud,
after a short whispered consultation.
“They have moved to adjourn for a week at noon to-day.”
“Can Lady Marmaduke sway them to her wishes?”
“There is little doubt of it.”
“Then she must be kept away. St. Vincent, ride to Marmaduke
Hall. Keep the mistress in conversation for an hour and a half. Ask
her what became of Le Bourse. Tell her I shall oust her from her
estate, break her title, anything you please. Stay there till noon and
occupy her time. She must not stop the troops. Go; instantly!”
There was no resisting the patroon’s haste. In the next breath I
was galloping at breakneck speed to my lady’s house. What a
coincidence! All the forenoon I had been racking my brain to find a
way to meet her and withdraw from my task of spy. Now the chance
was made. It filled my mind. Before I turned the first corner the
Earl, the troops, and Albany were quite forgotten. I could think only
of the stormy meeting before me and how I had best carry it
through.
I banged the brass knocker with a will, and was shown into the
receiving room. The name I sent to the mistress was Henrie St.
Vincent, of the Hanging Rock. She knew it and came in a trice.
“What news do you bring?” she cried, sweeping into the room like
a blast of wind. “How do you come so openly, Le Bourse?”
“St. Vincent.”
“Tush! There is no one to hear. What is your news. What have you
learned?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? Then why do you come here?”
“I am tired of my work. I want to give it up.”
“Give up? You coward!”
“I knew you would say that.”
 “Then you deserve it.”
“I do not.”
“Explain yourself.”
I told her briefly the confidence that the patroon had placed in me
and the way the deception gnawed my conscience. I did not move
her in the least. Her lips curled in scorn and she gripped her hands
together till they were all mottled red and white with the pressure.
“Sit down,” she said in a tone so cold and biting that it made me
shiver. “If you are going to leave my service I shall dismiss you like a
man.”
She strode haughtily across the room and poured out two glasses
of wine. She came back and handed one of them to me.
“My dear Michael,” she began. “I am a stormy woman. I repent of
what I said to you. Here we part. Rise and lift your glass. We shall
drink a toast before you go.”
I stood up. This was easier than I had expected. I had counted on
more of a scene and could almost smile at the ease of my
achievement.
“You do me honor, Lady Marmaduke. I hardly hoped that you
would sympathize with my conscience. Propose your toast.”
“Can you guess who it is?”
“The Earl?”
“No.”
I laughed. “Our friend, the patroon?”
“The patroon of Hanging Rock? Yes, but by a different title. Drink,
Michael. Long life and happiness to the seducer of your sister.”
“My God!” I cried, dashing glass and all upon the floor. “What do
you mean?”
“You know well enough. I told you long ago that he visited her
room that night she died. We of the aristocracy here think little of
our bond-slaves. They are mere chattels to our lust. Why should
they not minister to our pleasure. Why should not Ruth—”
“Stop! You are baiting me. You do not know this. Louis said that
she was murdered, but not that she was—”
“You know that? You will not strike her murderer? You craven
coward! And I know why you halt. You love the Catholic woman.”
 “What if I do? She loved my sister.”
“Ah, she loved your sister and you love her; he killed your sister
and you love him.”
“What can I do? He is her father.”
“Do you remember a masterless man who once came into this
very room to smell the smell of burning flesh?”
“Don’t, don’t.”
“Why don’t? What do you care now? Your sister’s agony, the
tortured flesh quivering under the iron’s heat—why, man, you should
thank God for that. How else would you have gone to the house at
Hanging Rock? How else would you have met your wonderful,
adorable, queen of your heart, the Catholic Miriam? How Ruth loved
Catholics! Get down on your knees, man. Your sister’s martyrdom
has brought you a love. It brings you a home, position, with the
name of coward and of traitor to my trust. Thank God, I say; thank
God.”
“You are unjust, Lady Marmaduke. You do not understand me.”
“My dearest Michael, I understand you perfectly. It was in the
beginning that I made the mistake. I took you for a man. I supposed
flesh and blood could not forget the debt you owe the patroon. But
’twas a small debt after all. What is a sister ruined and murdered to
a father-in-law who ruined her? Ha, ha, ha, Michael; do you think I
misunderstand you now?”
This was hard treatment and it took my resolution as the summer
dries a stream. I could stand ridicule—though that hurt me more
than most things—but the worst was that the picture she drew was
true. I had never admitted to myself that I felt more than mere
respect for Miriam. At that moment I believe I hated her.
“I took you in,” continued my tormenter. “Now you may go.
Perhaps he will murder you.” How this struck home in the light of
what he had already done. “Perhaps he will give you his daughter in
marriage.”
“I don’t want his daughter.”
“Hoity toity, child. Don’t break your china doll now it is in your
hands. What will you have in exchange for your peerless sister?”
“I want revenge.”
 “And refuse to take it! Bah, you talk like a fool.”
“I have talked like a fool. But now I swear to hound this hell-cat to
his death.”
“And Miriam?”
“As we sow, so must we reap. Let us spare her if we can, but—”
“Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, my Michael. I come not to
bring peace into the world, but a sword. This is the word of God, my
child.”
She had slipped her arm about me and was talking in the gentler
manner in which she had comforted me the time I first learned the
news of my sister’s fate.
Half an hour later I left the hall, sullen, resolved and conquered.
Yes; once more the strength of her spirit had proved greater than
the strength of mine. I must see more and be tried again before the
final break should come. And when it came, like a flash, like a thief
in the night, some who were upon the housetop came not down, but
were taken in their sins. And others like myself were spared to learn
the glory of God through goodness and mercy in return for sin and
evil.
 CHAPTER XXIII
VAN VOLKENBERG AND THE EARL

The next day was the beginning of that period that led rapidly to
the end. A few days later and all was over; there was no Red Band
left to threaten New York, and I—I had suffered untold remorse for
my cunning and deceit.
Meantime the uncertain breath of rumor that I had heard upon
the Slip had grown into a gale of certainty. People stopped at
corners in a frightened sort of way to discuss the former invasions of
the French. The Coffee-House was full to overflowing, and the
conversation always turned upon the last invasion of the County
Frontenac, or upon our long immunity from northward danger. But at
last, we all thought, peace was at an end. Certainty of the coming of
danger was quickly followed by fear of what would follow in case of
a descent from the Canadian frontier. It was a long way to Albany, to
be sure, but the fort at Albany was weak. If that were once taken
the enemy would have a free path to our very doors.
So the people fell to work in haste to repair the wall which toppled
across the island in a miserable state of repair. The trench on the
inside was cleaned out and deepened. New palisades were put in to
replace some of the old ones that had rotted through and were
ready to fall from their own weight. The gates were hung anew and
a guard stationed at them. Sunrise and sunset saw them securely
locked. While the gates were locked no one was allowed to leave the
city without a pass signed by the governor and stamped with the
great seal of the province.
Often by day you would see great swarms of people clustered
about upon the ledge of rocks west of the city just at the foot of the
stockade, with their eyes turned up river, as if they expected to see
a French flotilla appear in sight at any moment. The little wicket gate
through which I had fled with the suspicious sailors the night before
Van Volkenberg’s disgrace was now seldom closed in the daytime.
Through it staggered a stream of fearful people, ever on the lookout
for the invader.
The excitement was no less on the island north of the city wall. All
the little hamlets between New York and Harlem were making
preparations for defense, drilling and mustering men into companies
to meet the stranger. Every afternoon and evening the Red Band
assembled on the terrace to practice the use of arms, marching and
countermarching, and all things needful for the little army of the
patroon. They moved like clockwork. There were no soldiers like
them in the whole province; even the governor’s guard was not so
well trained by half. Still there was no visible sign of danger. A post
came in from Albany and reported that all was peaceful in the
neighborhood of Fort Orange.
This ferment had grown to a head while our attention at the
manor-house was attracted to other things. It was on the night after
the death of Meg—or, was it the next night? I forget, but it makes no
difference—that I sat in my room reading the little Bible that I had
carried ever since the old days in France. Suddenly I was startled by
a sharp scraping sound apparently in my own room. I listened a
moment attentively and placed the sound low down near the door.
There was a pause; then, after a moment’s silence, the scraping
began again.
“Begone,” I cried, with a loud stamp of my foot, supposing, of
course, that rats were gnawing in the wainscot.
At the sound of my voice there was a rustle like skirts in the hall,
and then I was sure I heard light footsteps running away from my
door. I rose quickly and opened it. All was dark in the hall, and there
was no sign of any visitor. I sat down again, wondering who it was
and whether the visitor would return. Perhaps ten minutes passed,
during which I heard nothing, though I listened with both my ears.
Then of a sudden, without any foresounds, the scratching began
again. I rose very quietly with my candle in my hand, and tip-toed
across the room. I took care to make no noise this time, for I
wanted to surprise my visitor, and find out who she was. I turned
the knob softly without letting the door give an inch, paused a
moment to get my weight right, and then flung the door wide open
with my candle held high above my head.
There stood Annetje Dorn, with her fingers to her lips for silence.
“Follow me,” she whispered. “But don’t make the least noise.”
She led me a long way till we came out after many wanderings
upon a little balcony on the outside of the house under the eaves. In
the shadow before us I could just make out the vague form of a
man who was awaiting us.
“It is Pierre,” she whispered; and the next moment we were
talking in guarded whispers. She had smuggled him into the house
and up here so that he could deliver his message to me without
danger of being overheard by stray persons about the house. But
after all, his message to me was small enough, if it was worth being
called a message at all. But I learned something of importance from
him, for all that.
“Lady Marmaduke is getting so anxious that she would have it that
I come and speak with you, danger or no danger,” said Pierre. “Have
you any word to send her?”
I told him briefly that nothing of importance had happened. Then
I asked him what news he could give me from the city. Matters were
in a much worse state there than I had thought.
“The citizens,” said Pierre, “are like chicks without their mother.”
“They’d duck you if they heard that,” put in Annetje, who always
enjoyed a fling at Pierre for his former escapade. “It is just the thing
for people who talk too much. Now there was Long Mary once—”
“Never mind Long Mary or you’ll get ducked yourself. Monsieur Le
Bourse, they are just as I said, like chicks without their mother. They
run here and there and everywhere, chirping for the governor to do
something. There is nothing he can do unless he loads up the guns
on the Battery and shoots them at the bay. I wish he would. It
would make safer ducking, which I should like in case Annetje—”
Her hand smothered the rest of this, whatever it was.
 “If I were the governor,” broke in Annetje, trying to keep her
muzzling hand over her sweetheart’s mouth. “I should do something.
I am sure I don’t know what there is to be done. But look how the
patroon always does something right away. He always knows that
something is to be done and just what it is. He never waits a minute.
The governor always puts things off.”
“So, ho,” retorted Pierre, getting free at last. “What do you know
about it? Have you ever heard the saying: Gray heads on green
shoulders?”
“Ay, ay, and green heads on gray shoulders.”
“Bah, I am only a year older than you. But gray heads can hide
their green shoulders by holding their tongues.”
“Try it then and see. Now, Monsieur St. Vincent, if you please,
what is there to be done? Pierre told me before I fetched you up
that if something were not done before to-morrow three companies
of the guard would be sent up the river to protect Fort Orange.”
“That’s what Lady Marmaduke is afraid of,” broke in Pierre. “With
only one company left in the fort and the Red Band gathering—that
looks like trouble. There are seven of the patroon’s ships in the
harbor at this blessed moment, and that is more than there has
been at any one time these ten years past. Some of them have been
here a month. Why does he not fill 'em up and let 'em go their way
a-trading?”
I had already noticed that more and more men came to the drill
as each day went by, but, before this, I had not known the cause.
However, I had no intelligence to send on that score; Pierre seemed
to know more about it than I did, and so he went back to the city
with nothing of account to relate to his mistress for all the danger of
his errand.
Since the day on which the patroon had been dismissed in
disgrace from the privy-council he had not visited the city in state;
not since that first day when Pierre and I had wandered out north of
the city by the Collect, where he told me of my sister’s fate. On our
return that day, we had nearly reached the Kissing Bridge when the
trampling of horses sent us to the bushes for concealment. I
remember to this hour how the patroon looked as he rode by with
Louis by his side and the Red Band two and two at his heels. They
made a brave sight, but since his disgrace, the patroon had not
ridden in that way. When his affairs called him to town he went
alone or with only Louis or me to accompany him.
But to-day, he resolved to ride in state. An early summons came
to wait upon the master. By ten o’clock a splendid retinue was ready
to set out for New York. Van Volkenberg was at the head with Louis
upon one side and me upon the other. Behind us, in rows of four,
came one hundred and fifty chosen men in the full livery of the Red
Band. They wore cloth of a dark olive green, and on the left arm the
band of brilliant red, which was their distinctive badge of service.
The English flag and the patroon’s banner flapped merrily as we
galloped over the half-frozen ground. This was the very road over
which I had followed Louis to the printing shop of Bradford. I
compared that night to this day and wondered what was the
meaning of all this display of force. Could it be that the wheel had
come full circle? Was it the patroon’s turn now? He had often told
me that it was dangerous to drive a sullen foe to bay.
Meantime the patroon rode proudly at the head of his company.
We were half way to the city when he motioned me to ride a little
closer, and Louis to fall back out of earshot.
“St. Vincent,” he said, “do you remember the conversation we had
a few days ago? Well, I am going to take your advice. I am an old
man, most too old to begin, and it is ill work to teach an old dog
new tricks, as the proverb says; but I shall do it, by the grace of
God, I’ll do it.” He broke into a boisterous laugh. “Oh, it makes me
feel young again. I’ve been like one gone mad, many a time of late.
Somehow I feel free again. Your rough words the other day put new
life into me. Thank you, Vincent, I thank you from the bottom of my
heart. Perhaps you do not remember what you said. That is often
the case with people who do more good by their stray acts than they
know at the time. Ah, Vincent, you don’t know how far a little word
sometimes reaches. Maybe it was only your tone at the time. At any
rate, I have turned over a new leaf. Can you guess what I am going
to do?”
“No,” I answered. “I cannot.”
 “’Tis this: I am going to offer my household to the Earl in defense
of the city.”
He jerked this out in quick sudden breaths as if it hurt him to say
it, and there was a tightening about his lips that seemed to indicate
the struggle it had taken and was still taking to keep him up to this
honorable resolution. But there was a doubt in my mind, however
glad I was to see this change in a man whom I had given up as
almost altogether bad.
“Do you think he will accept your help?” I asked, putting my doubt
into words.
A shadow crossed his face.
“I have thought of that. I know that my motives are likely to be
misunderstood in the light of my past actions. But I must put up
with that. A man can do no better than his best.”
He made the sign of the cross and then sat square in the saddle
again. We were now hard upon the Landport where workmen were
still busy hanging the clumsy gates that had for so long a time been
out of use. We rode through the open way and into the crooked
streets of the city. In a moment they were swarming with people,
come out to see the Red Band go by. Never before had it made such
a fine appearance. Never before had the people tossed up their caps
like one man and cried: “God save the good patroon, the defender
of the city.” For rumor had gone hotfoot ahead of us and, somehow,
the people were aware of the errand which had brought us to the
city. They knew that the Red Band had come to fight for the town.
Old hate was forgotten. The frequent brawls with the patroon’s
sailors were not called to mind. And all went as merry as the bells of
Trinity on a wedding day.
The patroon was proud of his display, and took a roundabout way
to reach the fort. When we drew near, all the neighborhood was in
confusion. A great crowd blocked the street from one side to
another. Everyone’s attention was fixed on the stone gateway and
the massive gates that barred it. When I saw that the gates were
closed, I wondered whether there had been an alarm. My thought
was soon answered. A bugle from within the walls rang out clear on
the frosty air. The notes, beautiful as they were, fell on my ears with
a chill foreboding sound. The murmur of the people softened. The
great iron-bound gates swung back. There was the throbbing sound
of a drum and the dull tramp of soldiers marching. Three of the four
garrison companies passed out in a long narrow line, down to the
river, and embarked to Albany. This is what Pierre had foretold. The
soldiers were gone. The city was now almost defenseless. But its
only other danger, the patroon, had espoused its cause. No wonder
the people shouted: “God save the good patroon, the defender of
the city.”
When the Earl’s troops were gone, followed by many of the
spectators, I glanced through the gate into the courtyard of the fort.
The Earl of Bellamont, surrounded by most of the members of his
council, were still seated upon their horses in front of the executive
mansion. Patroon Van Volkenberg gave orders for his troops to
remain drawn up in the street; then he rode into the paved
courtyard of the fort, accompanied by Louis and myself. After he had
saluted the governor and his associates, the patroon cleared his
throat a little and began to speak.
“Your Excellency,” he said, “I come to beg no favors, to make no
excuses. I have been guilty of many acts which I performed with my
eyes wide open, knowing what the consequences would be, and I
have likewise suffered the consequences as I should. But that is not
what I came to talk about. By the grace of God, I have suffered a
change of heart. If it is not too late I should like to make amends for
my past acts. Vincent, present this paper to the Earl.”
I handed the document which he had withdrawn from his pocket
to the Earl. Bellamont’s face took on an expression of surprise as he
read. Suddenly he exclaimed:
“Why, this is the title to your estate of Hanging Rock.”
“Yes, it is that,” answered the patroon. “I know that it is your
desire to recall the lavish grants of your predecessor; and I have
come to see, in spite of my former acts, that they are a danger to
the safety of the province. Therefore I have brought myself to the
point of resigning my claim into your hands, hoping thereby to make
some amends for what I have done in the past times to oppose the
purpose of your administration. I have brought my household with
me, armed and at your service, and I pray that you will receive them
into the fort, subject them to your own officers, and let me repair to
my home until you have disposed of my title as the welfare of the
province prompts you.”
Van Volkenberg had spoken with calmness and respect; but for
the moment I was in doubt whether the governor with his strong
prejudices would trust him. He did not know, of course, as I did,
what had prompted the patroon to this act of humility and grace.
However, after a few minutes’ hesitation, the Earl thanked him
cordially. He consulted with his advisers and they came to the
conclusion that it would be best to accept the offer of the patroon.
The fact that he himself would return to his manor-house for the
time being and leave the command of the troops wholly to the
governor won them over. They all shook hands with him, and
Bellamont thanked him again for the way in which he had come to
the rescue of the city.
“We shall let bygones be bygones,” he said. “We have had our
quarrel. To-morrow there will be a meeting of my council at the
usual hour, at which I hope you will be present.”
For just a moment there seemed likely to be an interruption in
store for us. Louis, who had not shared my conversation with the
Earl, seemed amazed. His eyes stood out like knobs. His great
misshapen mouth opened. He threw back his head with that weird
contortion of his face that preceded his peculiar, ghastly laugh. I
caught in my reins lest my horse should startle at the sound. But
Louis subsided slowly without a laugh and took on again that solemn
look of acquiescence.
“A mere freak of his,” said the patroon in explanation. “A curiosity
of mine, but he means no harm.”
With that they parted harmoniously and we three, the patroon,
Louis and I, rode back to the manor-house. We who had gone into
town in such pomp returned alone without a man to bear us
company. And a hundred and fifty of the best troops of the province
were in the fort, ready to guard it against attack.
Later that evening, Louis Van Ramm was nowhere to be found.
The patroon seemed alarmed at his henchman’s absence.
 “He has never left me without permission before, St. Vincent. Did
he say anything to you?”
He had said nothing to me. No one else had any notion of the
dwarf’s whereabouts. We went out upon the terrace in the vague
hope of seeing or hearing something of him. Suddenly the distinct
sound of clattering horse hoofs fell upon the night. The wind blew in
gusts and, in a moment, the sound had vanished. But the wind came
again in a moment and the hoof beats with it, louder than before.
And then, fast and clear, the triple ring of a horse at full gallop along
the frozen highway to the north.
“Someone is abroad to-night,” said the patroon.
“Yes, a horseman,” I replied.
We both spoke calmly. An observer might have wondered why we
had not cried out, for the sound came suddenly like one speaking in
the dark. For my part, I suspected Louis, though how or what I did
not know. The patroon may have thought likewise, for he asked:
“Who is that, do you suppose?”
“A horseman,” I replied again.
There was no other answer to be had. The rider passed the park
without stopping or slackening his speed, which we could now tell
was breakneck and wild to the extreme. Where he was going and for
what purpose we could not tell. Gradually the sound died away and
left us gaping at the blank dark. After that we went back into the
house, the patroon muttering curses upon the dwarf for his absence.
 CHAPTER XXIV
CAPTAIN WILLIAM KIDD

Though we sat together for some time after that, little enough
passed between us. I had my own thoughts and so had the patroon.
Whatever was in his mind I could not tell, but I thought that it was
Louis. For if there was the least sound outside he would start up
expectantly; and when, as always happened, Louis did not appear,
his face would grow black, and the corners of his mouth would drop
down, as they did in his worst moments. I hardly wonder,
considering what followed later, that he was ill at ease. In all
likelihood, he suspected the real cause of Louis’s absence and knew
much better than I did in what danger it would involve himself.
However, the whole evening was not to be given up to hopeless
grumbling after the lost henchman. I had first come to New York in
August, as you will remember, and it was now late in November. The
roads were still hard, witness the sharp clattering ring of the
horseman who had ridden by shortly before on the frozen ground;
but at any day now we might expect the bad weather to set in and
difficult roads to follow.
We had heard the horseman ride by about nine o’clock. For two
hours the patroon fussed and fumed and visited the clock in the hall
so often that it scarce seemed to leave time for him to do anything
else. I wondered why he should be so anxious about the clock, when
he explained the motive all of a sudden.
“Get on your cloak. It is time for us to go. This is the errand I
spoke to you about this morning.”
I asked no questions—no one ever did of the patroon, especially
when he was in a bad humor. No one ever dared to approach him on
a forbidden subject, and I knew enough to know my place if I knew
nothing else. So I wrapped myself up warm and the two of us set
out on foot. We followed the narrow path that led down to the river.
It was steep walking part of the way, but we managed to stumble to
the end of it in safety. At the landing we found the patroon’s barge
waiting for us. Eight negro slaves were at the oars and an overseer
held the tiller.
“Have you seen the signal?” asked Van Volkenberg.
“Yes, about ten minutes ago for the first time, and twice since. He
seems to be in a hurry.”
“Very well. Let him know that we are coming. Get in, St. Vincent.”
As soon as we were seated, word was given to the slaves, and the
barge shot out into the current, turning southward towards the
town.
“I do not like this disappearance of Louis,” said the patroon in a
low voice to me. “I have expected him to turn against me for a long
time, but I was hardly prepared for it just at this moment. If he
comes back he shall feel the lash on his bare back for the fright he
has given me.”
“Poor Louis; I hope we shall not find him now.”
“No, this meeting is with someone else. You’ll know who shortly.”
Soon after this the slaves left off rowing and we drifted with the
tide. We had come to a place just opposite the fields north of the
city wall.
“Show the light,” said the patroon.
A dark lantern held by the steersman was made to flash three
times; it was answered close at hand. Five minutes later a boat
glided up out of the darkness, from which a stranger stepped aboard
us. Then we set out for home.
The stranger, so far as I could see in the dim light, was a strong-
built man, not over large in stature. He wore a seaman’s great coat
and carried his cutlas in his hand. He swore fearfully in his speech
and the patroon was constantly warning him to lower his gruff voice.
“I tell you, William,” he said after their conversation had gone on
for some time, “it will never do. I have had a change of heart. It will
never do. I have surely suffered a change of heart.”
 “Well,” returned the stranger with a large accompaniment of
oaths, “if that’s the fact, what’s the use o' lugging Willie Kidd all the
way to Hanging Rock?”
“Tut, tut, man, we shall have a glass of old Madeira and talk of
bygone days.”
“Ah,” muttered Kidd, smacking his lips in anticipation, “that is
another matter.”
So this was Captain William Kidd, merchant, of New York. This
was the man to whom had been entrusted the King’s ship that was
to prey upon the buccaneers and to put the booty into the pocket of
the sovereign and his co-adventurers. This was the man about
whom the patroon had got himself into disgrace with the governor’s
council. I tried to make out the expression on Van Volkenberg’s face,
but the night was too dark for that. I could only fancy how this
appointment had been brought about. Then I remembered the
seaman we had met in the city the day before, and the patroon’s
parting injunction: “At midnight on the river.” He must have been
Captain Kidd—at least his name was William, for I had heard my
master call him so. They went on talking in low voices, although not
so low but that I could catch the drift of their talk.
I soon learned that the troops had been dispatched to Albany
mainly upon Kidd’s representation. He had urged Bellamont to
protect the colony at all hazards against an invasion from the north;
and such was the faith of Bellamont and Livingstone in the advice of
the commander of the Adventure that he tipped the scale of a
hesitating executive, and the troops were sent.
I also learned that, whereas Bellamont had taken the advice of
Kidd, Kidd had received his cue from Van Volkenberg. So it was the
patroon after all who had emptied the fort of its regular guard. But I
had no time then to think of what motive he had for doing so, for we
were fast nearing the landing at Hanging Rock. Several times during
this conversation Van Volkenberg had spoken again of his change of
heart. Often a low chuckle escaped him on the occasion of such a
reference. His spirits were evidently rising, and, for the present, all
thoughts of Louis and his absence must have been forgotten.
 When we arrived at the manor-house, the patroon led his guest to
the door of the dining room.
“St. Vincent,” he said, “stand here on guard. No one is to come in
or to interrupt us in any way till we come out again.”
With that he opened the door and motioned Captain Kidd to enter.
I could only see a part of the room from where I stood. What mainly
occupied the vista disclosed by the open door was the great
mahogany sideboard, which stood against the wall at the farther end
of the room. On the upper part of it were plenty of glass vessels and
blue china pieces from Delft and heavy articles of silver plate; the
lower part was a huge cupboard used to store less showy articles of
furniture. I used to wonder at the bigness of this enclosure and
thought what a place it would be to play hide and seek in if there
were only children about the house. Then the door closed and I saw
no more of the sideboard or of the visitor for a while. But I heard a
laugh; it was loud and uproarious, and I thought he would never
have done. But he subsided at last; then I could hear the muffle of
low voices, but never a word reached my ears that I could
understand.
I walked up and down the hall for a long time. The minutes
merged into an hour and then two hours. I grew tired with nothing
to occupy my mind but the continual mumble of low voices. I fell to
wondering where Louis was and what he was up to. More than once
I had suspected the patroon’s motive in garrisoning the fort with his
own men. I was so sure that his action was a mere trick, though I
was taken in by it at the time, that I intended to slip from my
window that very night and go to the Earl with a warning. Then it
flashed upon me that perhaps Louis had already done this. Could the
horseman we had heard be a messenger to recall the troops that
had been dispatched to Albany? The idea seemed possible. The
more I thought of it the more certain I became. I can remember to
this day the thrill of satisfaction that I felt when I understood that
the patroon was within one of checkmating himself. My imagination
ran riot there in the silence before the door I was guarding. I began
to fancy that the patroon meant to get possession of the city. I had
noticed that day that his seven ships were so drawn up in the harbor
as to command the whole front of the city. But in spite of everything
I was satisfied with the situation. If the Earl had received warning,
the patroon, after all, might succeed only in trapping himself.
Then I felt a pang at heart—he was Miriam’s father. I could no
longer hide from myself the fact that I was in love with the patroon’s
daughter. From the moment when I first felt the charm of her
attractiveness, I had fought hard against it. She was a Catholic and,
worse than that, she was his daughter. But she had been good to
Ruth. I recalled how earnestly my sister had tried to break down my
unreasoning hatred of the Catholics. I thought, too, of Miriam’s
kindness to old Meg; and of her love and belief in her father; and of
her simple purity of faith. These were qualities I had not looked for
in the Roman church. Then came that sweet picture of her and Ruth
kneeling side by side in the little oratory, each praying in her own
faith.
This very evening I had begged Miriam for a keepsake. She had
been with us during a part of the time when her father was so upset
by Louis’s absence. She had tried to coax him into a better humor,
but he told her sharply to leave the room and go to bed. I followed
her into the hall and when, a moment later, I picked up a
handkerchief which she had dropped on the floor, I begged her to let
me keep it. It was a mere bit of sentiment on my part, I confess, but
it would have been a treasure to me and I wanted it with all my
heart.
But Miriam thought differently. She protested against the gift in
such a vigorous manner that I could think nothing less than that she
would not have me wear a favor of hers. This dashed my spirits and
she saw accordingly how seriously I took the matter.
“Pooh, you are foolish,” she cried, laughing. “This is why I won’t
let you have it.”
She shook out the handkerchief and thrust her finger through a
tiny hole in one corner. In vain I told her it was all the better for
that. She only brushed me lightly in the face with it and ran up stairs
laughing.
All this and many other things were in my head as I walked back
and forth like a sentinel before the door of the dining room. Soon
the sound of other voices besides those of my master and Captain
Kidd became audible. They were above stairs and seemed to come
from the upper landing. One I recognized immediately as Annetje’s.
The other person could be none but her mistress; though I heard
but little that she said, who else would be with Annetje at this hour
of the night?
There was a lamp burning in the hall whose light fell dimly upon
the foot of the stairs, but all above the fifth or sixth step was as dark
as the pit.
“Look on the bottom step, Monsieur St. Vincent,” I heard Annetje
whisper.
I glanced at the door of the dining room and then walked
sideways towards the stairs, so that I could keep my eyes cast
backward and attend to my duty at the same time. On the bottom
step lay a patch of white which I caught up eagerly, for it was the
very handkerchief I wanted, hole, wrinkles and all.
“It is for you,” said Annetje from the dark above. “She sends it
with her—”
A hand must have been clapped over her mouth, she stopped so
suddenly. I hardly dared to hope for that last word. No matter; I had
the handkerchief safe, at least. I called up my thanks, though I could
not see either of them and was soon back at my post.
When Van Volkenberg and Kidd came out, we retraced the journey
of two hours previous, dropping down river and transferring Kidd to
his own boat. And with this one appearance he vanishes from these
pages.
During those two hours when they were closeted in the dining
room, he and the patroon hatched a plan which indirectly affected
us mightily, but whose ultimate success transpired too late to
influence the fortunes of the patroon.
As everyone knows, Captain Kidd sailed from New York an
honorable merchant and well trusted by the government. When he
was next heard of he was a jolly pirate on the high seas, flying the
black flag. But he was only an amateur buccaneer after all, and
found pirating less to his mind than he had hoped for. So he sat in
his cabin till he had fashioned a whole book full of lies to explain
how he had been made the victim of his crew and how he had
meant to deal honestly with the King’s commission. Thus armed he
sailed boldly into Boston harbor, where he was promptly arrested to
answer for his crimes.
For a time it looked as if his treachery would stain the honor of his
patron. But at length Bellamont was cleared beyond a doubt of all
complicity, and Kidd was sentenced to hang by the neck till he was
dead.
But all this happened afterwards and is beyond the limits of this
story. Kidd played a losing game, in which he staked his life and
reputation. What right have we to heap calumny upon his memory?
Let him wend his own wicked way alone, while we return to the
fortunes of the Red Band.
CHAPTER XXV.
THE EFFECT OF KIDD’S VISIT
During the next forenoon I had no opportunity to go to Yorke. Nor
did I feel the duty quite so necessary now that I thought Louis had
been beforehand in the matter of warning the governor. For a long
time that morning the patroon and I were closeted together. He had
begun to suspect the dwarf himself and the suspicion irritated him
beyond measure. At last he suggested plainly that Louis must be
aware of his motive in garrisoning the fort.
“But,” said I, sure at last that my own suspicions were correct,
“why should a knowledge of your motives take him to Yorke?”
The patroon flushed with anger when he discovered how
carelessly he had disclosed his secret. There seemed to be a
moment’s hesitation in his mind as to what to do, but he saw plainly
that I now understood the whole situation clearly. Patroon Van
Volkenberg was a man who always acted with decision and at once.
He saw that there was no use to brazen it out, and so he made a
clean avowal.
“I took you for a man of sense, but I see that you are a fool.”
I had had too long a time of training in keeping cool under
adverse circumstances to mind a little fling like this.
“Your words to me yesterday on the way,” I said.
Welcome to our website – the ideal destination for book lovers and
knowledge seekers. With a mission to inspire endlessly, we offer a
vast collection of books, ranging from classic literary works to
specialized publications, self-development books, and children's
literature. Each book is a new journey of discovery, expanding
knowledge and enriching the soul of the reade

Our website is not just a platform for buying books, but a bridge
connecting readers to the timeless values of culture and wisdom. With
an elegant, user-friendly interface and an intelligent search system,
we are committed to providing a quick and convenient shopping
experience. Additionally, our special promotions and home delivery
services ensure that you save time and fully enjoy the joy of reading.

Let us accompany you on the journey of exploring knowledge and

personal growth!

ebookultra.com