# The Rider of the Black Horse/Chapter 2
### CHAPTER II A PUZZLING INTERVIEW

Standing in the pathway before him, Robert saw a young man a few years older than himself, dressed in the ordinary garb of the country people. The light was too dim to enable him to see the face and its expression clearly, but there was something in the bearing of the man that at once impressed him strongly. That the stranger possessed great physical strength was evident, and as soon as he spoke Robert Dorlon shared in Dirck's suspicions, although he would have found it difficult to explain even to himself why it was that he distrusted him.
"Why did n't you let me know what you were doing?" said the stranger lightly. "I'd have been only too glad to join you."
"It is n't too late now. The water is all here," replied Robert.
"Too late. It's always my luck—just too late for everything."
"Not too late for supper it was," said Dirck soberly.
​"The good wife may think it is," laughed Robert. "Does she know she has two more to feed to-night, Dirck?"
Acting at once upon Robert's suggestion, the three men immediately turned back toward the house, Robert himself hastening in advance of them to the barn, where he fed his black horse,—a task which on his journeys he never intrusted to another. When he, too, approached the house he perceived Dirck Rykman's little girl Mina standing in the doorway, and at once lifting her to his shoulder he entered the room with the child holding fast to his hair while he danced about in pretended pain.
"Oh, Mina," he cried, "you 're worse than a Tory! Let me go, and I 'll see if I can't find something in my pocket. Don't you remember that I promised to bring you something when I came again?" In spite of his apparent carelessness, Robert had glanced keenly at the visitor when he had spoken of the "Tory," but the man apparently was unmoved by the reference and was laughing as heartily as the others when Mina was swung to the floor.
It was some time before Robert discovered the little packages in his pocket and with a ​bow handed one to the little Mina and the other to her mother, whom he had already greeted.
"I don't know very much about the taste of the ladies, but they seem to be somewhat alike," he added laughingly, as with eager hands his gifts were opened and brightly colored ribbons were disclosed in each.
At Dirck's suggestion, however, the little party was speedily seated at the rude table upon which Mistress Rykman had already placed the smoking supper. A lighted candle added its pleasing effect to the plain but tempting fare, and the men were all speedily doing ample justice to the culinary skill of their hostess.
"You 're a stranger in these parts, I see."
Robert looked up quickly as the other visitor spoke, and in the light he could see that the man was keenly regarding him.
"What makes you say that?"
The stranger laughed as he replied, "Your question would be answer enough of itself, if there was n't any other reason for thinking so. The people on the shores of the Hudson don't answer one question by asking another."
"By the same token one would know that you did not belong here, either."
​"Oh, I don't belong here, that's true enough," said the other lightly.
Now that he was enabled to perceive plainly the face of the man, Robert became more strongly convinced that the visitor was one who was abundantly able to protect himself. His face was strong, the glance of his eye was keen, and there was an indefinable something that pervaded him that spoke of a larger experience in life than belonged to most of the dwellers in the colonies.
"Where might your home be?" inquired Robert bluntly.
"It 'might be' in any one of a dozen places, but as a matter of fact it is n't in any one of them."
The laugh of the man was somehow irritating to Robert, but he was not to be turned from his purpose now, and boldly continued his questioning.
"Every one is supposed to be able to give an account of himself in these days." he said soberly.
"A most excellent plan. I was about to inquire who you were and where you came from."
Robert's face flushed slightly as he realized that his own question had been turned back ​upon himself, but he answered quickly, "Oh, I'm not afraid nor ashamed to tell who I am. My name is Robert Dorlon, and I'm the sixth in direct descent to bear the name, too."
"A good name. I once met a man of that name in London. Perhaps he was a relative of yours," he added quizzically.
"It may be. We came from England, or at least my grandfather did."
"But you are Americans now?"
"Every inch of us!" said Robert stoutly, though he perceived even while he was speaking that the man was drawing him on without declaring anything about himself. "Now that I have told you who I am, it is your turn to favor us with a similar word about yourself," he said quietly.
"Oh, I am English born too," said the stranger lightly, "but I don't know that I can say much more. I'm a wayfaring man, and sometimes I almost suspect that I am a fool, too. But whatever else I am, I can assure you that I am a good friend of General Clinton."
"So is every one here," said Robert quickly.
"I suspected as much, and that was one reason why I stopped at the home of Dirck Rykman for the night, and have engaged him ​to ferry me across the Hudson to-morrow morning early. Doubtless you, too, have a similar plan in your mind."
"Are you going to Fort Montgomery?" inquired Robert quickly. "That is where General Clinton is now."
"I'm a wayfaring man, as I told you," said the stranger, the corners of his mouth trembling slightly as he spoke, "and Fort Montgomery may be as good a place for me as any other. You know the way there?"
"Every bit of it. We can go on together. You have no horse, though," Robert added hastily.
"No, I have no horse at present," admitted the stranger quietly.
"Your name, it was what?" inquired Dirck, who up to this time had not taken any part in the conversation.
"My name? Some people might call it 'Legion'—but Russell is the one by which I am ordinarily known. Ever heard the name before?"
"The name, it was known," said Dirck slowly.
"There! I told you it was legion. Everywhere you find it, and every one appears to know it. You don't happen to know of the ​name belonging to any one in this part of the world, do you?" The man was speaking quietly, but as he turned toward Dirck as he spoke, Robert, who was watching him, was impressed that the man's interest in the Dutchman's reply was much keener than it appeared to be.
"I know of one Russell," said Dirck slowly. "I do not know him."
"And perhaps all the better for you," laughed the man. "Where does this particular Russell happen to live?"
"He was not at home."
"So? Gone to join Clinton's men perhaps."
"There was two Clintons. One was in New York and one was not."
For a moment the expression of the man's face changed slightly, or at least Robert fancied that it did, and then he said with a laugh, "I did not think there was but one up here on the Hudson. Sir Henry is so far away I did not think he would count. The only one I thought was of any importance hereabouts is George Clinton the—the commander at Fort Montgomery."
"General George Clinton is there."
"But you can't tell me where my namesake Russell is?"
"He was a wayfaring man and one fool." ​The expression on Dirck's face was bland and innocent, but the stranger glanced keenly at him before he spoke.
"Oh? you think he is one of the 'Legion,' too, do you? Well, I want to run across him some day. I should like to see how one of the family looked after living in this co—region for a while. Just now I think I 'll let him rest, and I 'll take mine too, if you are willing. I am tired, and must be stirring early to-morrow morning. What time shall we start?" he added, turning to Robert.
"Before sunrise," said Robert.
"That will suit me. I have no horse and we may not journey far together, but I hope to have one soon, and it may be that we shall have other meetings also. I bid you all good-night," he added, as he took the candle which Dirck had lighted and followed his host to the loft.
Robert still was seated at the table when Dirck returned to the room, and his thoughts were far from pleasing. He blamed himself for having so quickly revealed his name and the journey he was making. He had too quickly assumed that the General Clinton to whom Russell declared he was going was the same general who naturally was uppermost in his own mind. Besides he was now suspicious ​of the man, whose confidence in himself and his easy manners proclaimed an ability to care for himself and an apparent absence of fear that somehow were not reassuring to the young soldier.
His thoughts were interrupted by the return of Dirck, who placed his candle on the table, and taking a seat close to Robert's, said, as he shook his head, "I likes it not, Robert. He was too much talk. Which General Clinton is he going to see?"
"If it was Sir Henry he would not be here. He'd be nearer New York," suggested Robert, in reality striving to reassure himself.
"But he comes from up the river."
"He did?"
"We must talk low," admonished Dirck, whose voice was not much above a whisper. "And he was a Russell, too."
"What has that to do with it?"
"Perhaps sometimes you will read one letter," replied Dirck, as he drew from his pocket a discolored piece of paper and handed it to his friend. Robert eagerly grasped the epistle, and spreading it out before him, with difficulty made out the following letter:—
June 14th, 1777.
Honorad Sir:—a Cordoing to your orders I went with a part of the Light hors in Sarch of Russell; when I come within a Mile and a half of his hous I aplied to Mr. Conklon; ho was acquented with him and sent 2 of the Light hors with him in disgis afoot; as the went thru the woods ner Russells hous the met a man in the woods and the seemed to be Surprised; he told them not to frited; asked them from whence the Come; the Replayd from New York; he told them the need not be afred; the was all good frends about there and asked what news from New York and wither general How was Coming up the River or not; with that there was a woman apered; he told them to Clap down and hid, when the woman Come near he sed the need not be afred for that was one Russells wife and that hir Husbant was gon off Las night to New York, and if he had been at hom wald been very glad to have seen them; he had been at hom for sum time but had not been in his hous but three nights; this man Invited them hom with him, but the Sead that the darst not; the must go the Mountains; he sed that he had Last winter Carred provisions for 10 or 12 in the Mount's and in the spring ​the set of for New York. Mr. Conklin went privately Inquiring for Creaters he had Lost; and from all he Cold Larn he thinks he has gon off; I believe ther is no sesposhin that we wer after him, as for Wood I did not Know wither to go in Sarch of him or no for fear of discovring the mater; I shall weight the generals advise about Wood, wither it is best to go and sarch for the money or not. I am your Honors most obedant ombel Servant,
Sam'l Logan.
    To General George Clinton.
"Where and how did you get this?" inquired Robert in a whisper, after he had deciphered the discolored epistle with great difficulty.
"To-day. I knew you were coming and so I waited, for you can take it to the general to-morrow."
"And this man Russell who is here"—
"I do not know."
"Do you think he is the Tory?"
"He may be, or he may be one sent out to meet him."
"Have you ever seen this man before?"
"No. Nein."
"Or the Russell who lives near here?"
​"Nein. No."
"I know what I 'll do, I 'll"—
Robert stopped abruptly, as a sound outside the house was heard which caused both men to rise hastily and move swiftly and yet cautiously to the door in the rear of the room.
* ↑ This letter is an exact reproduction of one which was sent General George Clinton. Even the unique spelling has been retained.