"You'll
note the difference between New York and Quebec. The French capital
was all military. You saw soldiers everywhere, but this is a town of
merchants. Now which, think you, will prevail, the soldiers or the
merchants?"
"I think that in the end the merchants will win," replied Robert.
"And so do I. Now we have come to the home of Master Hardy. See you
the big brick house with high stone steps? Well, that is his, and I
repeat that he is a good friend of mine, a good friend of old and of
today. I heard that in Albany, which tells me we will find him here
in his own place."
But the big brick house looked to Robert and Tayoga like a fortress,
with its massive door and iron-barred windows, although friendly smoke
rose from a high chimney and made a warm line against the frosty blue
air.
Willet walked briskly up the high stone steps and thundered on the
door with a heavy brass knocker. The summons was quickly answered and
the door swung back, revealing a tall, thin, elderly man, neatly
dressed in the fashion of the time. He had the manner of one who
served, although he did not seem to be a servant. Robert judged at
once that he was an upper clerk who lived in the house, after the
custom of the day.
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