“All in the olden time.”
“Our ancestors smoked long pipes, wore breeches and buckles,
spoke in a strange tongue, and were called Dutchmen; for what
saith the chronicle?
“Dutchmen lived in those days in Nieuve-Amsterdam.”

Five years have elapsed since the events narrated
in the last book transpired. In the interim,
the seed then sown has had time to ripen to the
germe; the germe to bud, and blossom, and bear
fruit: youth has advanced to manhood; the characters
then forming, formed; and the effects of the
various causes then in operation fully wrought, and
apparent to every eye. The scene, as well as the
time of the story, is now changed, and, with its
actors, transformed from the Old to the New World.

In the year 1695, William the Third appointed
Richard, Earl of Bellamont, governor of the province
of New-York. He did not, however, receive
his commission until eighteen months afterward,
nor arrive in his government until April, 1698. At
this period the American coast, from New-England
to the Capes of Virginia, were infested by a daring
bucanier, who not only swept the seas with his fast-sailing
vessel, but frequently run boldly, in open day,
into the harbours of New-York, Boston, and New-port.
To such an extent did his depradations reach,

[figure description] Page 070.[end figure description]

so fearful became the terrible name of “Kyd,”
that at length the fisherman feared to launch his
boat, the mariner to spread his sail, and citizens
trembled for their safety within the very centre of
their fortified towns.

Such being the state of things, Lord Bellamont,
on assuming the administration of colonial affairs,
was especially instructed by the English government
to make use of all the means placed at his
command to remedy an evil so alarming, and fraught
with consequences so fatal to the growth and prosperity
of the colonies. For this purpose, immediately
after his arrival at New-York, he had despatched
the light-armed vessel which had brought
him over from England in pursuit of the pirate.

She had been absent some time, and her arrival
in the bay was hourly and anxiously looked
for by the honest Dutch citizens. As the time for
her return drew nigh, it was the custom of certain
of these worthies, after the humble occupations of
the day were over, to assemble at eventide about
the stoope of frau Jost Stoll's tavern by the water
side, and with their long pipes supported in their
mouths with one hand, and a mug of double beer
or mum held in the other, steadfastly to gaze down
the bay, in expectation of the return of the crusier,
the while gravely discussing their doubts of the
bold bucanier's captivation by mortal ship; and by
times relieving their discourse with dark tales of his
marvellous and bloody exploits on the high seas.

Before entering further upon this division of the
story, it perhaps may be necessary, for the proper
understanding of it, to describe New-York as it
was at this period. On the north side of the present
Wall-street there extended from East River,
then called Salt River, to the North River, a

[figure description] Page 071.[end figure description]

palisade ten feet high, constructed of piles firmly driven
into the earth, strengthened and sustained by crosspieces
of timber. The interstices were filled with
earth and stone, and it was in every part ball-proof.
South of this palisade lay all that then was New-York.
Beyond were forests, and a vast tract called
“King's Farms,” now embraced between Canal and
Liberty streets. This wall was perforated midway
between the two rivers by a gateway, through which
passed the road to Albany: this avenue is now
called Broadway. At the eastern extremity of the
wall, at the foot of Wall-street, and facing the water,
was a half-moon fort, called a Rondeel: another was
at Coenties-slip, or “Countess-slip,” so called in
honour of the fair Lady of Bellamont; and a third,
equidistant from it, on the site of what is now the
corner of State-street and the Battery. From
Broadway, west, there was a sloping shore to the
beach, there being neither wharf nor landing on
this side of the town; and on the south, the tides
came up nearly to the iron gate of the Battery that
at present opens into Broadway—the site of the
present “Marine Park” being at low tide a sandy
beach strewn with vast fragments of rock, and
called “The Ledge,” where fishermen spread their
nets and dried their fish.

At the foot of Broad-street, then called “Here
Graft,” and at that time the principal street of
New-Amsterdam, were two great docks, called
“West” or “East Dock,” as they chanced to be on
the east or west side of Broad-street. Through this
street nearly to Wall-street also run a creek, widened
into a canal, and spanned by bridges wherever
it was intersected by streets. Near the head
of this canal was the abode of the city ferryman,
who conveyed passengers in a wherry either to the
Island or Jersey shore. The houses of the better

[figure description] Page 072.[end figure description]

class stood principally on William and Pearl streets,
the latter being open to the water, with dwellings
only on the west side facing it. Maiden-lane was
then a green lane with a fine spring at its head
where the Dutch maidens were accustomed to
bleach the linen they wove. Fronting the river
stood the Stadt Huys (the ancient City Hall), a
massive stone structure two stories high, with battlements
rising above the gable ends. The lower
story was used as the colonial prison. Opposite
the Stadt Huys stood the fish-market. In the Bowling
Green, then an oblong square, surrounded by
locust-trees, was the City Market, which was held
three times a week, and opened and shut by the ringing
of a bell. The gate of the city was formed of a
pair of massive leaves of oak, strengthened with bars
of iron: they were shut at night on the setting of
the watch, and opened at sunrise by ringing of bells.
The citizens took watch by turns or were fined.
They were to be “good men and true, and free from
cursing and swearing.” It was their duty to watch
by the gate and the bridges, and thrice during the
night to take the rounds of the city, particularly to
see that neither Indians nor negroes were abroad, or
lying about in the market-places. In cases of emergency
or alarm, they were commanded to call on
the nearest citizen for aid; each householder being
required to keep always in his house a “goode fire-locke,”
and at least six rounds of balls thereto. Gutters
run through the centre of all the streets, which
were unpaved; and in the middle of Broadway,
near Wall, and also in Pearl-street, were public
wells and pumps. The houses were built mostly
in the Dutch style, with gable-ends to the street,
and stoopes.

The “Rondeel,” or crescent before mentioned,
that defended the south side of the town at the

[figure description] Page 073.[end figure description]

foot of Broadway, was erected on the top of a large
mound, fourteen feet high, with a green sloping glacis
on every side. The wall of the fort was still
twenty feet above the glacis, strongly constructed
of stone, with two square wings, the centre being in
the shape of a half-moon. On the north side stood
a few apple-trees and an aged linden that over-topped
the walls, from the parapet of which was
a near view of the market, of the fields about the
“Bowline Greene,” the hay-scales, and the north
gate of the city. In the centre of this fort stood a
small stone chapel, the first Dutch church erected
in New-York. Four cannon were mounted on the
water side, and a heavy gun, of vast calibre, planted
on the north side of the wall, commanded the gate
of the palisades. East of the fort was a forest of
several acres, in which were kept the governor's
deer. Nearly hid among its old trees, yet open to
the bay, stood, within a stone's throw of the gate of
the fort, the gubernatorial mansion of the earl, a
stately Dutch edifice of stone, painted white and
ornate with scalloped gables, turret-like chimneys,
a cupola, latticed galleries, and “stoopes.” The
ground before it sloped in a smooth lawn to the
glittering beach; and from its door the eye embraced
the whole of the far-extended bay, with its green
and wooded islands, and a distant glimpse of the
sea. On the east of this mansion, which, from its
white exterior and imposing appearance, was named
by the admiring burghers “Der Vite Sals,” or White
Hall, a name the site has retained to this day, commenced
Pearl, then called Dock street. It was on
the corner of this and Broad-street, and within one
hundred yards of the White Hall, that the publichouse
of frau Jost Stoll was situated.

This ancient, well-frequented, and popular inn,
the humble progenitor of the numerous costly and

[figure description] Page 074.[end figure description]

palatial hotels that now adorn the modern city, was
one story high, and extended far back on both
streets, showing a front on each. Its roof was tiled
with glazed Dutch tiles, and ascended almost perpendicularly
to a great height, where it met a second
or super-roof, which was clapped over it like
an extinguisher. In its descent towards the ground,
however, it took a horizontal curve outward, and
projected full seven feet from the walls across the
sidewalk, supported along its eaves by a row of
rude columns. The gable-ends rose ambitiously
above the roof, from which be it said projected
sundry dormant windows, which were cut into steps
or half-embrasures, giving the building a sort of
castellated aspect. Its windows, and they were
many of divers shapes, square, circular, oval, and
diamond, were placed in all possible positions, as the
fancy of the architect dictated. On each street was
a broad door, with a narrow carved canopy above
it, and beneath a stoop with seats on either side.
To these, for the accommodation of her numerous
customers, the bustling Dutch hostess had of
late placed four long benches, two on each side of
the house, against the wall and just beneath a row of
windows with little three-cornered panes of glass set
in leaden sashes. The advantage of two fronts to
the inn is apparent, and was a very great convenience
to the worthy citizens. In the summer mornings
they were wont to sit on the south and shady
side, which looked down the bay; and in the afternoon
on the east and now shady side, which commanded
not only a side view of the harbour, but a
full view of the muddy dock, alive with ducks, at
their feet, and the clumsy stone bridge that crossed
it. But, since they had begun to watch for the reappearance
of the “Ger-Falcon,” the name of the vessel
which was despatched in pursuit of the pirate,

[figure description] Page 075.[end figure description]

the south front, notwithstanding it was in the month
of June, and the level sun lighted up the little windows
of the inn like an illumination, had become the
most frequented and popular; and, on the evening of
the day in question, the east side was deserted by all
save a tawny slave, a recumbent Indian, and one or
two sleepy dogs. On the south front, therefore, at
the time of the opening of the second part of this
story, were gathered, towards sunset, beneath the
shade of the projecting roof, a motley group, composed
of some of the best burghers of New-Amsterdam,
and, what is more, the choicest customers of
frau Stoll. They were seated on benches on either
side of the stoop, the two seats of which were
occupied by a little, short, fat member of the corporation,
and a tall, thin, long-nosed churchwarden,
the chiefest dignitaries of the church and state.
Besides these worthies, there were several artisans,
and other worthy citizens of the ancient town.

“Dere vill be moche fear dat de tamt pucanier
hash got de king's ship, and no te king's ship haav
got te pucanier,” said one of the worthy burghers,
sagely shaking his head after a long look down the
bay; and taking his pipe from his mouth and emitting
a generous cloud of smoke, he looked round to
see how his opinion was received.

“'Tis quite time, Mynheer Vandersplocken, that
the ship should be back; but whether she brings a
prize or no is another thing,” said the warden,
blowing through his pipe to ignite the tobacco therein.

“I'll ventur' to say you are right dere, Mynheer
Varder,” said an antiquated Dutch skipper, blowing
forth with his words a volume of smoke that
for a time rendered his round, rubicund visage and
portly paunch invisible; “dis skipper Kyd ish not
to pe taken sho easily. Schnaps and tunder! he

[figure description] Page 076.[end figure description]

would plow up his yocht to de tyfil first. Ay! he
vill never haav te hemp cravat, te plack rogue.”

“Is he black?” asked the warden, eagerly.

“Ay—ish't plack he ish, schipper Schenk?” repeated
the burgher.

“Goot! schipper Schenk, den hash seen him!
how doesh dou know dat he ish plack?” asked a
third, who, from his greasy apparel, was the tallow-chandler
of the town, laying his pipe across his
oily knee and looking him in the face with the air
of a man who expected to hear something marvellous.

“'Tish not plack in te face I mean, put in te
heart,” said the skipper. “I have seen him, as you
say, Mynheer Schnops; and his hair vas white as
te lint, and his eye plue as te sky, and his skin
fair as te lantlaty's taughter here. A fair young
man he vas to look upon.”

“And cruel as fair,” said the warden. “Tell us,
worthy skipper Schenk, o' the time you saw this
bold rover; doubtless it will be a tale to listen to.”

“Ay, good schipper!” “Yaw, schipper Schenk,
gif us te story,” cried several voices.

Ashes were knocked from some of the pipes,
and others were refilled; the more distant listeners
moved nearer to the skipper, who, looking round
with the patronising and superior air of a man who
hath seen more danger than his fellows, settled
himself into the attitude of a story-teller, and took
a long-drawn whiff at his meerschaum:

“It vas in te Long Island Sount,” he began,
“just after the last line gale. I vas in mine little
yocht, te Half Moon, and, haaving carried away
my powsprit, put into a creek unter Sachem's Heat
to cut another from te treesh dere. I left te men
to vork hewing te spar, and valks about on te shore,
looking rount, and tinking vat a nice plaace it vas

[figure description] Page 077.[end figure description]

—te Sachem's Heat—for a city, if te lant vas lower,
so tat a tyke micht be made all rount it.”

“A tyke, sure; vat is te citee mitout te tyke? vera
goot,” were the approving ejaculations of his listeners.

“Ton't interrupt me, or tish tyfil a pit more you
get o' mine shtory. Now vere vas I? Vell, as I
vas saying, I vas valking by mineself ven I comes
to te oder side of te heatlant, ant tere lay anoder
vessel mitout a mast, ant more tan fifty men at
vork putting new spars into her. Vell, I vas vondering
vat craft it vas, for she vas carry many kuns,
vhen somepoty vas lay a hant on mine shoulter,
ant I looked rount ant vas see a tall, hantsome,
ant fair young man, mit plue eyes ant light locks,
mit pistols at belt ant swort py his side.

“`Goot tay, Mynheer Schipper,' says he, in a
free ant easy vay. `Ish tat your craft pelow in
te creek?'

“`It ish, mynheer,' says I. `Dis gale has put
us poth into von bipe, if tat ish your craft pelow
dere.'

“`It ish, schipper; vill you go on boart?'

“`Ish must get my repairs tone ant pe off,' I
sait.

“`I haav a flasche of goot Scheitam, mynheer,'
sait he.

“So I vent aboart, ant ve hat a merry time mit
te Scheitam ant te bipe.

“`Tis ish te real shuniper from Deutch-lant,
captain,' says I, pouring te last trop out of te
flasche.

“`It's made from the Italian shuniper, schipper,'
says he.

“`Deutch or Italian,' says I, `it's te oil ov life;
ant never pefore tid I trink such shin.'

“`I am glat you like it,' says he; ant he mate

[figure description] Page 078.[end figure description]

a negro, in golt ant green jacket ant brocken, put
on anoder flasche.

“By-ant-py, says I, `Vat's te name o' your craft,
captain,' tinking it a ship in te king's navy.

“`Te Silfer Arrow,' says he.

“`Te Silfer Arrow. I haav not hear tis name
in te navy.'

“`Nor ever vill,' sait he. `Fill your glass,
schipper, I vill give you a toast.'

“So I filled to te top, ant, rising up, swore I't
trink it on mine legs, if he gave te tyfil himself, for
te Scheitam vas in me. So I helt on to te taplecorner,
ant he sait,

“`I give te healt of Kyt.'

“`Nefer,' sait I; ant smashed my glass on te
taple in a tousant atoms. `I vill trink to te tyfil,
put not to Kyt,' says I.

“His eyes flashed like coals ov vire, ant he put
his hant on a pistol; put ten he laughed ant sait,

“`Drink to my healt, ten, good schipper.'

“`I'll trink your healt, captain, from te neck ov
te flasche, till tere pe not von trop left pehint.'

“`Pledge me, den,' sait he.

“So ve filled, ant I trank a bumper to his goot
healt.

“`Very vell, schipper. You haav done as I
wished,' he sait, smiling. `Who, tink you, is your
entertainer?'

“`Te'il care I,' sait I; `I know te Scheitam, tat
is enough for schipper Schenk to know.'

“`Did you ever hear of te Adventure Galley?'
says he.

“`It's Kyt's vessel,' sait I, `tat he scours te sea
mit.'

“`Look here, schipper, ant reat,' said he, shoving
asite a sliting panel above te transum.

“I looked, ant reat, in large letters,

[figure description] Page 079.[end figure description]

“`The Adventure Galley.'

“`Vat te tyfil!' sait I, laying a hant on my cutlass,
`tish is not te—'

“`Te Adventure Galley, ant I am Captain Kyt,'
says he.

“So I drew my cutlass ant mate a lunge at him,
supposing I vas in for a death; but he wrested it
vrom me, ant mate me sit down ant vinish te pottle,
ant we soon got right vell acquainted.

“`Vhen do you leave te creek, schipper Schenk?'
says he.

“`It vill take me two tays yet, mit my three
men, to set te bowsprit. It's a pad pusiness, dish
delay; ant I vish I vas vell out of dis place'—for I
pegan to fear for my throat, notmitstanding ve
drank Scheitam togedder. But Captain Kyt vas
de shentleman. He sent his men to help mine, ant
in four hours I vas ready for sea again, sount as
ever. He came to see me off, sent two flasches ov
de Scheitam, ant shook hants mit me, mit many
pleashant vords, ant gave me dis arrow, saying,
`Tese are my passports for my frients. If you
ever are in any tanger from my peoplesh, it vill pe
your safeguart.' Ant he spoke true; for it hash
twice saven my cargoesh.”

As the skipper concluded, he held up to view a
small silver arrow the length of his fore-finger, on
which the warden discovered, as it was passed
round from one to the other, the words:

“Respect the sign. Kyd.”

“Strange — it ish vonderful — vera goot!” exclaimed
severally those to whom it was handed.

“He is not so wicked after all, then, schipper
Schenk,” said the warden.

The skipper shook his head, and replied mysteriously,
“I vish I may alvays gif him a goot vide
berth, datsh all, Mynheer Vorden, notmitstanding
te Schietam.”

[figure description] Page 080.[end figure description]

“I can tell you a tale that will give you a different
opinion, Master Warden,” said an English mate,
who formed one of the party of listeners.

“By all means let us hear it,” said the warden,
knocking the ashes from his pipe against his shoe,
and refilling the bowl from a leathern pouch by his
side wherein he was accustomed to carry a pound
of loose Turkish cut.

“Ve vill lishten; tell it, skipper Jack,” all cried,
directing their eyes first down the bay to see if
they could discover an approaching sail, and then
turning and fixing them upon the face of the seaman.

“Well, shipmates,” said the sailor, dropping from
his mouth carefully into the palm of his hand a huge
quid of tobacco, and sprinkling a shower of saliva
over the pavement; “you see as how it was in the
West Indies. Captain Kyd had captured a trader
bound from Newport to Barbadoes, and, having
taken out all the valuables, set fire to her, with every
soul on board save a young gentleman and young
lady—one being sweetheart to the other, you must
know. These he took on board his vessel, the
'Ventur' Galley, and told the young lady, who was
very rich, that if she would pay forty thousand dollars
for her ransom, she should go free. So she
went into the cabin with him, and wrote the order
for the money. `Now,' says she to him, `I will not
give it to you unless you promise to give me what
I love best on earth.' `Now,' says he to her, `fair
lady, what do you love best on earth?'

“`My betrothed husband,' said she.

“`Would you have his heart rather than all else
in the world?' asked he.

“`Yes.'

“`I comply with your demand—but first you
must dine with me,' said he.

“So a great dinner was served up, and only Kyd

[figure description] Page 081.[end figure description]

and the lady sat down to it—for he treated her with
great respect all the time, and more like a gentleman
than a bucanier. After they had dined, she
said, `Now grant me my wish, and let me have
what I love best on earth.'

“`You have had it,' said he.

“`Where—what?' she asked, trembling all over
at his fearful looks, and hardly knowing what to
dread.

“`Your lover's heart.'

“`Where?' she asked.

“`You have just dined off of it,”' said he.

“What became of the lady?” asked the warden,
after the exclamations of horror and surprise had
subsided.

“She became a maniac, and in three days was
buried in the sea,” replied the narrator, replacing his
quid and taking a hearty draught at a can of ale
handed him by Frau Stoll herself.

“Donder ant blixen! I don't pelieve it—tish not
true, I vould shwear,” said the skipper. “He ish
pad enough, put not so pad ash dat—tish one of te
itle shtories tat peoplesh frighten von oder mit.”

“'Tis said he always gets devil's luck, before he
sails, from them as has dealings with the Evil One,
and always burns a Bible on his capstan every time
he weighs anchor,” said the sailor, without regarding
the incredulous skipper.

“The last time he was here, when he walked our
streets so boldly, with a score of armed bucaniers
at his back, before he set sail I heard how he got
evil charms from the witch at Hell Gate,” observed
the warden, in a low, cautious tone.

“I can give ye a wrinkle on that point, I guess,”
said a lank, half-farmer, half-sailor looking being,
who commanded a trader between the Rhode Island
plantations and New-York—one of the first of the

[figure description] Page 082.[end figure description]

species now so numerous. “I anchored once,
waiting for the flood tide to take me through the
gate, close alongside the rock her hut is on. Feeling
kind o' neighbourly, and not knowin' then who
lived there, I got into my yawl, and pulled ashore
to scrape acquaintance and talk a bit. As I came
up to the hut I heard a strange noise, and smelt
a brimstonish smell, and so thought I'd reconnoitre
afore goin' in. Looking through the window, I see
the old Witch of Endor and Captain Kyd, as I
learned a'terward it was, goin' through the awfullest
hellifications ever hearn tell on. She hanged
a piece o' yarn round his neck, and then said as how
he had a charmed life. Gracious! and the way it
lightened and thundered jist then was a sin to death!
Blue blazes an' brimstone—great guns and little
guns—big devils and little devils, mixed up with
owls and hobgoblins, snakes and catamounts, with
a sprinkling o' hell-cats and flying sarpents, touched
off with the tarnellest yells, 'nough to lift a feller
right off his feet by the hair of his head. I thought
creation was comin' to an eend, and dropped down
on my marrow-bones and prayed away like a disciple.
Soon as I could get on my legs, I showed
'um some purty tall walkin' till I got to my yawl
again, I tell ye! I expected nothin'd be left o' me
when I got there but my eyebrows and shirt risbands.”

“She is a fearful woman,” said the warden; “and
little thanks do we owe them for sending her among
us. 'Tis said, before she was transported to the colony
from Ireland, that she had spirited away by her
foul charms the son of some noble house. Ill has
fared the colony the three years she has been in't.”

“She shoult pe purned for von vitch vooman,”
said the skipper; “I would pe te first to make te
fagot plaze.”

[figure description] Page 083.[end figure description]

“I'll be there to help you a bit, I guess, too,” said
the Rhode Islander. “I han't been to Salemtown
in New-England for nothin', I guess. The way
they do with the critters there is a little the cutest.
If they want to tell for sartin if an old woman's a
real witch, they throw her into a pond. If she's
drownded she's no witch; but if she swims, its
gospel proof she is—coz what old woman could
swim if she warn't a nat'ral witch. They then tie
her to a stake and set fire to her.”

“Mit your leave, goot peoplesh, I vill shay vat
dey doesh mit vitches in mine countree,” said the
Dutch burgher, deliberately taking the pipe from
his mouth. “Virst, dey tries her py veighing her in
te scales mit von Piple; if she be heavier nor te
Piple, she ish prove von olt vitch voomans. Dis
ish vera goot! Secont, dey tries to shoot her mit
silver pulletsh, ant den dey tiesh her heelsh ant het
bot' togedder, and drops her into te deep vater.
Dat is alsho more vera goot!”

“What are ye gathered here for, ye idle knaves
and fat burghers, ye masses of smoked flesh—
sponges steeped in ale—and paunches like your own
pint-pots, frightening each other's cowardly ears
with tales of fear. Who is it ye would kill with
your silver bullet, Master Von Schmidt?”

The company started at the harsh, stern voice
that addressed them so unexpectedly, and uttered,
as they looked up, divers exclamations and interjections
of surprise, not unmingled with apprehension.
The warden rose from his wooden bench, and, hurrying
away, disappeared quickly round the corner
of the inn; the tallow-chandler upset his can of
ale in his over-eagerness to gain the taproom; the
burgher broke the long stem of his pipe by striking
it against the door-sill as he crowded in on the tallow-chandler's
heels; and on each countenance and

[figure description] Page 084.[end figure description]

in every gesture of those who remained was depicted
consternation and anxiety.

The personage who had caused this sudden
movement was a female of low stature, deformed
and hideous in person, with a stern aspect, and a
wild, restless eye—indeed, none other than Elpsy
the sorceress. Suspected of having made way with
the young Lester—the illegitimate Lester—she had
been arrested by the countess and thrown into
prison. But confessing nothing on trial, and the
circumstances not being sufficient in themselves to
convict her, after remaining in prison two years, she
was sent, with other criminals and dangerous persons,
to the colonies. Forbidden by the worthy
burghers to harbour in the town, she had selected,
as more in unison with her wild and wandering life,
and the mysterious character she claimed, a lonely
abode, once a fisherman's lodge, on the rocky islet
on the right of the outlet of Hurl Gate, still known
as the Witch's Rock. Here she performed her unholy
rites, and far and wide her fame spread as a
sorceress. Seamen, as they shot through the dangerous
pass, propitiated her; and those who would
have fair winds sought them of her in full faith.
The good came to her for good, and the evil for evil.
The tender Dutch maiden would do pilgrimage
there to ask after the fate of an absent lover, or
seek assurances of his happy and speedy return.
There were tales, too, that she favoured the bucaniers
who swarmed the coasts, and that their success
was owing to the heavy bribes of gold they
gave her for prosperous cruises. Occasionally she
visited the town, to the consternation of its worthy
citizens, who never failed to presage evil to “scot
and lot” from her presence.

“What is it ye fear, Master Warden—what is
it leads ye to leave your bench, schipper—is't your

[figure description] Page 085.[end figure description]

own shadows ye fear?” she now cried, fixing her
eyes darkly and angrily upon each countenance.

“It ish out ov reshpect, Frau Elpshy,” replied
the half-tipsy schipper, mustering his physical to
the aid of his moral courage, and speaking in a deprecatory
tone. “We knowsh your power, ant make
reverensh to it by getting up, ash you say.”

“Ye are a hypocritical and fear-stricken set, all
of ye—ever gulping ale, ye have only ale courage.
Jost Stoll, woman, give me a can of thy best Island
spirits. I have walked far, and am athirst and
weary.”

The strong potation was given her by the reluctant
hostess, who dared not refuse her demand, lest,
in the evil that she would visit upon her hearth-stone
and roof-tree, she might lose far more than the value
of a goblet. The weird woman quaffed the beverage
at a draught, and, placing the cup on the bench with
an emphasis, turned and looked down the bay with
a steady gaze. Every eye followed hers. The sun
had just touched the hills of Jersey with his lower
edge, and the evening haze lifting from the water
gave a dimness to distant objects. For some seconds
she continued to gaze, and then suddenly cried,

“He comes!”

“Sail ho!” instantly shouted the Rhode Islander.
At the same moment, a universal exclamation from
the observers upon the stoope showed that all eyes
had discovered the object that had attracted the attention
and caused the sudden outcry of the woman.

Far down the bay, near its junction with the
sea, diminished to a mere speck by the distance,
and appearing not bigger than a snow-flake floating
above the water, or a white gull riding on
the waves, a vessel was seen entering the Narrows
and standing towards the town. Instantly
all was excitement. The noise and rumour of

[figure description] Page 086.[end figure description]

its approach flew from the Rondeel on the south
even to the wall on the north. The worthy citizens,
attended by their fraus and their little folk,
maids and matrons, old and young, black and white,
slaves and Indians, and everything that had life in
New-Amsterdam, assembled in front of Jost Stoll's
inn, with their eyes directed down the bay. With
a steady, onward course, the vessel came gallantly
up the channel, and such was the way she made
that she promised to drop anchor off against the
fort ere the twilight should be deepened into night.
Gradually, as she approached, her form and size
began to grow more distinct to the eye, and her
proportions to stand out clearer.

“She is a brig—but not the Ger-Falcon, I am
thinking,” said the warden, who had again taken his
place among the crowd, his curiosity overcoming his
superstitious fears—albeit, he gave the sorceress a
wide berth. Nor indeed was he alone in his aversion
to her society; for every one present seemed
instinctively to avoid her neighbourhood: so that
she stood alone in an open space before the inn,
intently watching, without heeding those around
her, the advancing sail.

“Vat oder prig can it pe, put te Sher-Falcon,” said
the skipper. “Dere ish none expected here till next
Shaint Andrew's tay. De Barbadoesh packet vash
just sail—de Glasgow merchantman ish not due till
Christmash, and tere ish put one oder prig dat trade
here, vich is gone to te Golt Coast for negroesh.
'Tis te Ger-Falcon, or te pucanier Kyt himself.”

“Got forbid!” was the exclamation from every
tongue.

“She should carry her colours boldly aloft if she
were an honest trader,” said the warden. “'Tis
suspicious.”

“The Ger-Falcon, neighbour, was a

[figure description] Page 087.[end figure description]

square-rigger, I guess,” said the Rhode Islander, making a
focus of his closed hands, and looking long and scrutinizingly
at the stranger; “if I know a mainsail
from a spanker, that craft is a 'morfydite, with a
reg'lar straight stem for a mainmast.”

“It ish true; tish not te king's vesshel,” said
the schipper, looking eagerly at her. “She ish not
square-rigged; nor ish she von 'morfridyte neider.
She ish polacca-rigged, and has von cut-vater like
a pike's nose. Dat craft ish here for no goot.”

As the skipper spoke he felt in his pouch anxiously,
and, drawing forth his little arrow, looked at
it between doubt and confidence, and, shaking his
head bodingly, walked into the taproom to comfort
his spirits with a fresh can of “mum.”

The oracular shake of the skipper's head seemed
to have affected all present. Glances of apprehension
and words of trembling inquiry were interchanged;
and, fluctuating between hope and fear,
they continued anxiously to watch the approaching
stranger, at times turning their glances towards the
witch, to see if, on her dark features, they could read
a confirmation of the fears the skipper's words and
mysterious manner had awakened. As the vessel
came nearer, it was clearly apparent to the most unpractised
eye that she was not the vessel sent out
in search of the bucanier, and for which they had so
long been on the watch. There was something,
too, in the shape and air of the stranger, that roused
their suspicions of his pacific character, and the
dreaded monosyllable “Kyd” was whispered under
breath from one to the other. Many an anxious
eye was turned towards the Rondeel, to see if the
vigilance of the town's defenders was roused, and,
to the confirmation of their fears, they saw that the
little garrison was on the alert; that armed men
were on the walls; that the tompions were taken

[figure description] Page 088.[end figure description]

from the guns; and that its captain stood with his
glass on the outer bastion watching the vessel, while
ever and anon an order, hastening the warlike preparations,
reached their ears.

The stranger, a long, sharp, polacca-rigged brigantine,
came swiftly on, boldly passed Red Hook,
disappeared a few moments behind the wooded
swell of Governor's Island, and reappeared on the
east side, within gunshot of the town. Just as the
more timid citizens began to think of withdrawing
to the protection of the fort or the covert of their
stout stone houses, and just as a warning gun was
fired from the Rondeel, she rounded to, her canvass
shivered in the wind, her after sails descended to
the deck by the run, and her fore sails one after the
other rapidly disappeared: a moment afterward,
with everything furled, she dropped her anchor,
and, swinging slowly round to it, remained, dimly
seen through the thickening twilight, as stationary
as the island off which she was anchored. After
commenting upon her appearance and character,
and giving vent to their doubts and suspicions, one
by one the worthy citizens retired to their well-defended
mansions, trusting to the governor to keep
and hold the city should it be placed in peril before
the coming dawn. Elpsy was left alone where she
had stood all the while, watching the vessel's approach:
the red light of the western sky lighted up
her dusky features with a baleful glare, and her
features worked with some deep, inward emotion.
She would one moment strain her eyes towards the
reposing vessel, and the next, with an exclamation
of disappointment, stride, with an impatient step,
to and fro the narrow strand before the alehouse.

“'Tis he,” she said, looking fixedly in the direction
of the vessel. “'Tis the day he said he should
return, and he has not deceived me. Now will I

[figure description] Page 089.[end figure description]

bring about that I have laboured five long years to
accomplish. He shall obey me; he shall do it; he
shall do what I command—fulfil it to the letter, or
he shall die. No boat yet!” she said, pausing and
looking over the water. “He waits for night. He
will scarce think to meet me here; but he shall
not come and go again without seeing me. He escapes
me no more. Let me lay my hand on his
heart and get his promise to see me, and I will go
back to my rock; for I know then he will come to
me there.”

The stars at length came out, and night took the
place of the glowing twilight. The customers of
Jost Stoll had returned to their homes, or were
seated within, under protection of the massive shutters
and bars, which, earlier than at her accustomed
time, the fore-guarding landlady had placed over
her windows. All was still throughout the town
save the tread of the sentinel on the parapet of the
Rondeel, the tramp of the night-guard going with
quicker and more determined tread than usual to
their posts, the regular dash of the waves on the
beach, and occasionally the low, deep voice of the
weird woman soliloquizing. At length, after many
an earnest look and impatient word, the distant dip
of oars in the direction of the brigantine reached
her ears, and in a few minutes afterward, faintly
visible through the darkness, a boat was seen approaching
the entrance of the canal below the inn.
With a glad exclamation she hastened forward to
meet it.

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