Chapter XIII

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      “Masters, it is proved already

       That you are little better than false knaves;

       And it will go near to be thought so, shortly.”

      —Dogberry

      The sudden appearance of the city constable, a functionary whose person was not unknown to most of the company, brought every man at table to his feet, the Rev. Mr. Worden, Dirck and myself, included. For my own part, I saw no particular reason for alarm, though it at once struck me that this visit might have some connection with the demolished supper, since the law does not, in all cases, suffer a man to reclaim even his own, by trick or violence. As for the constable himself, a short, compact, snub-nosed, Dutch-built person, who spoke English as if it disagreed with his bile, he was the coolest of the whole party.

      “Vell, Mr. Guert,” he said, with a sort of good-natured growl of authority, “here I moost coome ag’in! Mr. Mayor woult be happy to see you, and ter Tominie, dat ist of your party; and ter gentleman dat acted as clerk, ven he lectured old Doortje, Mr. Mayor’s cook.”

      Mr. Mayor’s cook! Here, then, a secret was out, with a vengeance! Guert had not reclaimed his own lost supper, which, having passed into the hands of the Philistines, was hopelessly gone; but he had actually stolen and eaten the supper prepared for the Mayor of Albany,—Peter Cuyler, a man of note, and standing, in all respects; a functionary who had held his office from time immemorial;—the lamp was the symbol of authority, and not the sign of an inn, or an eating-house;—the supper, moreover, was never prepared for one man, or one family, but had certainly been got up for the honourable treatment of a goodly company;—fifteen stout men had mainly appeased their appetites on it; and the fragments were that moment under discussion among half-a-dozen large-mouthed, shining negro faces, in the kitchen! Under circumstances like these, I looked inquiringly at the Rev. Mr. Worden—and the Rev. Mr. Worden looked inquiringly at me. There was no apparent remedy, however; but, after a brief consultation with Guert, we, the summoned parties, took our hats and followed Dogberry to the residence of Mr. Mayor.

      “You are not to be uneasy, gentlemen, at this little interruption of our amusements,” said Guert, dropping in between Mr. Worden and myself, as we proceeded on our way, “these things happening very often among us. You are innocent, you know, under all circumstances, since you supposed that the supper was our own—brought back by direct means, instead of having recourse to the shabby delays of the law.”

      “And whose supper may this have been, sir, that we have just eaten!” demanded Mr. Worden.

      “Why, there can be no harm, now, in telling you the truth, Dominie; and I will own, therefore, it belonged in law to Mr. Mayor Cuyler. There is no great danger, however, as you will see, when I come to explain matters. You must know that the Mayor’s wife was a Schuyler, and my mother has some of that blood in her veins, and we count cousins as far as we can see, in Albany. It is just supping with one’s relations, a little out of the common way, as you will perceive, gentlemen.”

      “Have you dealt fairly with Mr. Littlepage and myself, sir, in this affair?” Mr. Worden asked, a little sternly. “I might, with great propriety, lecture to a cook, on the eighth commandment, when that cook was a party to robbing you of your supper; but how shall I answer to His Honour, Mr. Mayor, on the charge which will now be brought against me? It is not for myself, Mr. Guert, that I feel so much concern, as for the credit and reputation of my sacred office, and that, too, among your disciples of the schools of Leyden!”

      “Leave it all to me, my dear Dominie—leave it all to me,” answered Guert, well disposed to sacrifice himself, rather than permit a friend to suffer. “I am used to these little matters, and will take care of you.”

      “I vill answer for t’at,” put in the constable, looking over his shoulder. “No young fly-away in Allponny hast more knowletge in t’ese matters t’an Mr. Guert, here. If any potty can draw his heat out of the yoke, Mr. Guert can, Yaas—yaas—he know all apout t’ese little matters, sure enough.”

      This was encouraging, of a certainty! Our associate was so well known for his tricks and frolics, that even the constable who took him calculated largely on his address in getting out of scrapes! I did not apprehend that any of us were about to be tried and convicted of a downright robbery; for I knew how far the Dutch carried their jokes of this nature, and how tolerant the seniors were to their juniors; and especially how much all men are disposed to regard any exploit of the sort of that in which we had been engaged, when it has been managed adroitly, and in a way to excite a laugh. Still, it was no joke to rob a Mayor of his supper these functionaries usually passing to their offices through the probationary grade of Alderman. 23 Guert was not free from uneasiness, as was apparent by a question he put to the officer, on the steps of Mr. Cuyler’s house, and under the very light of the official lamp.

      “How is the old gentleman, this evening, Hans?” the principal asked, with some little concern in his manner. “I hope he and his company have supped?”

      “Vell, t’at is more t’an I can tell you, Mr. Guert. He look’t more as like himself, when he hat the horse t’ieves from New Englant taken up, t’an he hast for many a tay. ‘Twas most too pat, Mr. Guert, to run away wit’ the Mayor’s own supper! I coult have tolt you who hast your own tucks and venison.”

      “I wish you had, Hans, with all my heart; but we were hard pushed, and had a strange Dominie to feed. You know a body must provide well for company.”

      “Yaas,