of authority, and not the sign of an inn, or an eating-house;—the supper, moreover, was never prepared for one man, or one family, but had certainly been got up for the honourable treatment of a goodly company;—fifteen stout men had mainly appeased their appetites on it; and the fragments were that moment under discussion among half-a-dozen large-mouthed, shining negro faces, in the kitchen! Under circumstances like these, I looked inquiringly at the Rev. Mr. Worden—and the Rev. Mr. Worden looked inquiringly at me. There was no apparent remedy, however; but, after a brief consultation with Guert, we, the summoned parties, took our hats and followed Dogberry to the residence of Mr. Mayor.
“You are not to be uneasy, gentlemen, at this little interruption of our amusements,” said Guert, dropping in between Mr. Worden and myself, as we proceeded on our way, “these things happening very often among us. You are innocent, you know, under all circumstances, since you supposed that the supper was our own—brought back by direct means, instead of having recourse to the shabby delays of the law.”
“And whose supper may this have been, sir, that we have just eaten!” demanded Mr. Worden.
“Why, there can be no harm, now, in telling you the truth, Dominie; and I will own, therefore, it belonged in law to Mr. Mayor Cuyler. There is no great danger, however, as you will see, when I come to explain matters. You must know that the Mayor’s wife was a Schuyler, and my mother has some of that blood in her veins, and we count cousins as far as we can see, in Albany. It is just supping with one’s relations, a little out of the common way, as you will perceive, gentlemen.”
“Have you dealt fairly with Mr. Littlepage and myself, sir, in this affair?” Mr. Worden asked, a little sternly. “I might, with great propriety, lecture to a cook, on the eighth commandment, when that cook was a party to robbing you of your supper; but how shall I answer to His Honour, Mr. Mayor, on the charge which will now be brought against me? It is not for myself, Mr. Guert, that I feel so much concern, as for the credit and reputation of my sacred office, and that, too, among your disciples of the schools of Leyden!”
“Leave it all to me, my dear Dominie—leave it all to me,” answered Guert, well disposed to sacrifice himself, rather than permit a friend to suffer. “I am used to these little matters, and will take care of you.”
“I vill answer for t’at,” put in the constable, looking over his shoulder. “No young fly-away in Allponny hast more knowletge in t’ese matters t’an Mr. Guert, here. If any potty can draw his heat out of the yoke, Mr. Guert can, Yaas—yaas—he know all apout t’ese little matters, sure enough.”
This was encouraging, of a certainty! Our associate was so well known for his tricks and frolics, that even the constable who took him calculated largely on his address in getting out of scrapes! I did not apprehend that any of us were about to be tried and convicted of a downright robbery; for I knew how far the Dutch carried their jokes of this nature, and how tolerant the seniors were to their juniors; and especially how much all men are disposed to regard any exploit of the sort of that in which we had been engaged, when it has been managed adroitly, and in a way to excite a laugh. Still, it was no joke to rob a Mayor of his supper these functionaries usually passing to their offices through the probationary grade of Alderman. 23 Guert was not free from uneasiness, as was apparent by a question he put to the officer, on the steps of Mr. Cuyler’s house, and under the very light of the official lamp.
“How is the old gentleman, this evening, Hans?” the principal asked, with some little concern in his manner. “I hope he and his company have supped?”
“Vell, t’at is more t’an I can tell you, Mr. Guert. He look’t more as like himself, when he hat the horse t’ieves from New Englant taken up, t’an he hast for many a tay. ‘Twas most too pat, Mr. Guert, to run away wit’ the Mayor’s own supper! I coult have tolt you who hast your own tucks and venison.”
“I wish you had, Hans, with all my heart; but we were hard pushed, and had a strange Dominie to feed. You know a body must provide well for company.”
“Yaas, yaas; I understants it, and knows how you moost have peen nonplush’t to do sich a t’ing; put it was mo-o-st too pat. Vell, we are all young, afore we live to be olt—t’at effery potty knows.”
By this time the door was open, and we entered. Mr. Mayor had issued orders we should all be shown into the parlour, where I rather think, from what subsequently passed, he intended to cut up Guert a little more than common, by exposing him before the eyes of a particular person. At all events, the reader can judge of my horror, at finding that the party whose supper I had just helped to demolish, consisted, in addition to three or four sons and daughters of the house, of Herman Mordaunt, Mary Wallace, and Anneke! Of course, everybody knew what had been done; but, until we entered the room, Mr. Mayor alone knew who had done it. Of Mr. Worden and myself even, he knew no more than he had learned from Dootje’s account of the matter; and the cook, quite naturally, had represented us as rogues feigning our divinity.
Guert was a thoroughly manly fellow, and he did us the justice to enter the parlour first. Poor fellow! I can feel for him, even at this distance of time, when his eye first fell on Mary Wallace’s pallid and distressed countenance. It could scarcely be less than I felt myself, when I first beheld Anneke’s flushed features, and the look of offended propriety that I fancied to be sparkling in her estranged eye.
Mr. Mayor evidently regarded Mr. Worden with surprise, as indeed he did me; for, instead of strangers, he probably expected to meet two of those delinquents whose faces were familiar to him, by divers similar jocular depredations, committed within the limits of his jurisdiction. Then the circumstance that Mr. Worden was a real Dominie, could not be questioned by those who saw him standing, as he did, face to face, with all the usual signs of his sacred office in his dress and air.
“I believe there must be some mistake here, constable!” exclaimed Mr. Mayor. “Why have you brought these two strange gentlemen along with Guert Ten Eyck?”
“My orters, Mr. Mayor, wast to pring Dootje’s ‘rapscallion Tominie,’ and his ‘rapscallion frient;’ and t’at is one, and t’is ist t’ot’e.”
“This gentleman has the appearance of being a real clergyman, and that too, of the church of England.”
“Yaas, Mr. Mayor, t’at is yoost so. He wilt preach fifteen minutes wit’out stopping, if you wilt give him a plack gownt; and pray an hour in a white shirt.” 24
“Will you do me the favour, Guert Ten Eyck, to let me have the names of the strangers I have the pleasure to receive,” said the mayor, a little authoritatively.
“Certainly, Mr. Mayor; certainly, and with very great pleasure. I should have done this at once, had we been ushered into your house by any one but the city constable. Whenever I accompany that gentleman anywhere, I always wait to ascertain my welcome.”
Guert laughed with some heart at this allusion to his own known delinquencies, while Mr. Cuyler only smiled. I could see, notwithstanding the severe measures to which he had resorted in this particular case, that the last was not unfriendly to the first, and that our friend Guert had not fallen literally among robbers, in being brought to the place where we were.
“This reverend dominie,” continued Guert, as soon as he had had his laugh, and had ventured to cast a short, inquiring glance at Mary Wallace, “is a gentleman from England, Mr. Mayor, who is to preach in St. Peter’s the day after to-morrow, by special invitation from the chaplain; when, I make no doubt, we shall all be much edified; Miss Mary Wallace among the rest, if she will do him the honour to attend the service—good, and angelic, and forgiving, as I know she is by nature.”
