Nicholas took it under his protection, and the Dutch Dominie of the place, who was a kind of soothsayer, predicted that as long as these four chimneys stood Communipaw would flourish. Now it came to pass that some years since, during the great mania for land speculation, a Yankee speculator found his way into Communipaw ; bewildered the old burghers with a project to erect their village into a great sea-port; made a lithographic map, in which their oyster beds were transformed into docks and quays, their cabbage-gardens laid out in town lots and squares, and the House of the Four

68 The Hudson River

Chimneys metamorphosed into a great bank, with granite pillars, which was to enrich the whole neighbourhood with paper money. Fortunately at this juncture there rose a high wind, which shook the venerable pile to its foundation, toppled down one of the chimneys, and blew off a weathercock, the Lord knows whither. The community took the alarm, they drove the land speculator from their shores, and since that day not a Yankee has dared to show his face in Communipaw. Among all the gruesome legends of the west shore of the river none is more famous than that of the "Guests from Gibbet Island." Yan Yost Vanderscamp, the scapegrace nephew of the innkeeper of Communipaw, disappeared with old Pluto, his uncle's negro servant, and reappeared years afterwards -- "a rough, burly bully ruffian, with fiery whiskers, a copper nose, a scar across his face, and a great Flaunderish beaver slouched on one side of his head." With him was Pluto, grown grizzled, blind of an eye, and more devilish in appearance than before. According to his own account the prodigal had secured the fatted calf in his travels and had brought it home with him. He had bags full of money and ships in every sea.