in the journey which Robert Dorlon was making. The young man had clearly understood the demands upon him and was keenly alive to the part which he was to take.
The sun had just sunk below the western horizon, leaving behind it a brilliant sky, whose lurid colors Robert clearly perceived portended a morrow that would be even warmer than the present day had been. It was then with a sigh of relief that he perceived the little log house before him, where the young Dutchman with his wife and two little children dwelt. Only once had Robert seen him before, having stopped at his home over night on his most recent return from the north. Of Dirck's devotion to the cause of the colonies General George Clinton himself had been the voucher, and in many ways it was whispered that the young man had already been of aid to the patriots stationed in the highlands.
"Good-day to you, Dirck Rykman," called Robert, as he guided his horse into the pathway that led to the house, which was partly concealed from the sight of a passer-by by the bushes and trees that were in front of it.
Dirck himself he had seen standing in front of his home, leaning upon the handle of his hoe and apparently lost in meditation.
