"They've returned to
civilization, and I think and trust, Adrian, that we'll hear more of
them than for some years past. They're especial friends of mine, and I
shall do the best I can for them, even though my mercantile rivalry
with you absorbs, of necessity, so much of my energy."
Van Zoon smiled sourly, and then Robert liked him less than ever.
"The times are full of danger," he said, "and one must watch to keep
his own."
He bowed, and turned to other acquaintances, evidently relieved at
parting with them.
"He does not improve with age," said Willet thoughtfully.
Robert was about to ask questions concerning this Adrian Van Zoon, who
seemed uneasy in their presence, but once more he restrained himself,
his intuition telling him as before that neither Willet nor Master
Hardy would answer them.
The play moved on towards its dramatic close and Robert was back in
the world of passion and tragedy, of fancy and poetry. Van Zoon was
forgotten, St. Luc faded quite away, and he was not conscious of the
presence of Tayoga, or of Grosvenor, or of any of his friends.
Shakespeare's _Richard_ was wholly the humpbacked villain to him, and
when he met his fate on Bosworth Field he rejoiced greatly.
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