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
