_ PART TWO
CHAPTER X
I
A fortnight later there came to the Allison home a messenger from Stephen in the person of Sergeant Griffin. He appeared at the doorway just as the shroud of eventide was being enfolded about the landscape, changing its hues of green and gray to the more somber ones of blue or purple; just at the time when the indoor view of things is about to be made apparent only by the artificial beams of the tallow and dip.
"Hail!" he said; "I have business with Matthew Allison."
"From Stephen?" Marjorie asked with evident interest.
He shook his head.
"The trial----"
"Oh!" exclaimed Marjorie. Plainly she was relieved at the nature of the message. Then she turned.
"Father!" she called.
"I am coming directly," cried Mr. Allison from the rear.
She had clear forgotten to invite the sergeant into the room, so absorbed was she in the nature of the business at hand. Expectancy breeds cowardice. When great issues are at stake every act wears an awful meaning. For this reason she stood transfixed at the threshold, before this unexpected arrival, whom she associated with the image of Stephen. With the sudden and delightful lessening of her anxiety, however, she bethought herself.
"Won't you come in? It was stupid of me not to have asked you before."
The sergeant acted promptly. Marjorie followed at a little distance, but had no sooner entered the room herself than her father came through the other door.
"What news? Arnold?"
"Found guilty," was the response.
"The court-martial has come to an end?" asked the girl.
"Yes, Miss. And he has been found guilty," he repeated.
"I thought so," muttered Mr. Allison.
They were seated now in the parlor, the two men at opposite ends of the table, the girl at the side of the room.
"They met at Morristown?" asked Mr. Allison.
"Yes. At Norris' Tavern. Major-General Howe was chairman of the court. Only four charges were pressed for trial: the matter of the pass; the affair of the wagons; the shops; and the imposition upon the militia."
"And Arnold?"
"He managed his own trial, and conducted his own cross-examination. He made an imposing spectacle as he limped before the court. The sword knots of Washington were about his waist and he took pains to allude to them several times during the defense. It was astonishing to hear his remarkable flow of language and his display of knowledge of military law. He created a wonderful impression."
"He was found guilty, you say?" interposed Mr. Allison.
"Technically guilty of one charge and imprudent in another," was the deliberate reply.
"And sentenced?"
"To receive a reprimand from the Commander-in-chief."
Mr. Allison assented by a move of his head.
"How did he take it?" he then asked. "I cannot imagine his proud nature to yield readily to rebuke."
The visitor thought for a moment.
"His face was ashen pale; there was a haggard look upon it; the eyes were marked with deep circles and his step faltered as he turned on his heel and, without a word, made his way from the court room."
"Were you present at the trial?" Marjorie inquired.
"Yes, Miss Allison."
"Was Stephen?"
"No." The sergeant answered mildly, smiling as he did so.
Marjorie smiled, too.
"Tell me," Mr. Allison asked. "Was the evidence conclusive?"
"The
Isis occupied the court to some length. It was contended that General Arnold had issued the pass with evil intent. The affair of the regiment was referred to in connection with this, but no great stress was brought to bear upon it because of the fear of arousing a possible prejudice in the minds of the court. That fact was introduced solely as a motive."
Allison shook his head again.
"It was proved," the sergeant continued, "that the
Isis was a Philadelphia schooner, manned by Philadelphia men, and engaged in the coastwise trade. The pass itself was introduced as an exhibit, to support the contention that the General, while Military Governor, had given military permission for the vessel to leave the harbor of Philadelphia for the port of New York, then in possession of the enemy."
"That was proved?"
"Yes, sir."
"Was the Regiment alluded to?"
"Yes. But at no great length."
"And the pass?"
"It was there. The Regiment was the motive for the pass. The affair of the recruiting was scarcely mentioned."
There was an abrupt silence.
"What was the next charge?" Mr. Allison asked.
"That of the wagons."
"Yes."
"The prosecution made a strong point. Jesse Jordan was introduced. Testimony was given by him to the effect that he himself had drawn back a train of twelve wagons loaded with stores from Egg Harbor."
"Where?"
"Egg Harbor. Where the traffic between the British Army and the Tories of the city was carried on."
"Was this sustained?"
"The General denied most of the accusation, but he was found imprudent in his actions. In regard to the other two charges, that of the shops and that of the militia, absolute acquittal was decided. The verdict was announced the following morning and the sentence was published immediately after adjournment."
"He was sentenced to be reprimanded, you tell me?"
"Yes. By General Washington."
"That will break Arnold's heart. He will never endure it."
"Others were obliged to endure it," sounded a soft voice.
"Yes, I know," replied the father of the girl. "But you do not know General Arnold. Undoubtedly the city has the news."
"Yes," said the sergeant. "I have told several. All know it ere this."
II
And what subject could possibly afford more of concern or consequence to the city folk than the court-martial of General Arnold! Those of the upper class, because of their intimate association with the man; those of the middle class, interested more or less in the great significance attached to the event itself and the influence it would exert upon the future; those of the lower class because of their supreme contempt for the erstwhile Military Governor and the biased manner of his administration, all, without exception, found themselves manifesting an uncommon interest in the progress and the issue of the trial.
It was commonly known that General Arnold had requested a court-martial; but it was not so commonly understood that the matter of his guilt, especially his collusion with the Catholic Regiment and the matter of its transportation, was so intricate or profound. Stephen's speech at the meeting house had given the public the first inkling of the Governor's complicity in the affair; still this offense had been condoned by the many, as usually happens with the crimes of great men who occupy stations of honor, whose misdemeanors are often enshrouded and borne away into oblivion beneath the veil of expediency and interest of the common weal. A court-martial would indeed take place; but its verdict would be one of absolute acquittal.
To hold court at some neutral post was just. No charge of unfairness could then be lodged. Nor could the personnel of the court be regarded as hostile to the accused, for the latter had already raised an objection to its composition which had been sustained and heeded. The charges were dealt with fairly, only four of the eight counts in the original indictment being allowed to come within the jurisdiction of a military tribunal. Even the General was permitted to conduct his own trial and every courtesy and attention was granted him.
Only two charges bore any evidence of guilt. The pass was issued with deliberate intent. That was proved by the testimony of several witnesses as well as by the introduction of the pass itself. Arnold defended himself on the ground that there were no authorities in the city of New York to be offended by the entrance of the vessel, and also the fact that since the Commander-in-chief had lodged no complaint over the alleged offense to his dignity, it was logical to infer that His Excellency took no offense at the order. In regard to the charge of misuse of the government wagons, it was revealed that traffic had been carried on between Egg Harbor and the city of Philadelphia, and that full loads had been delivered to several private families of the city. Arnold denied any knowledge of the destination of these wagons, although he was aware that they were being used.
His defense, it was learned, consisted of a long plea, in which he rehearsed in detail the leading events of his life. He was fond of alluding to his past and entertained no diffidence whatsoever in regard to his own abilities. He hoped thereby to impress the court and to intimidate them.
The charges he denounced as false, malicious, and scandalous, inspired solely by motives of animosity and revenge. He was not accustomed to carry on a warfare with women, he told the court, nor did he ever bask in the sunshine of any one's favor. Honorable acquittal of all the charges brought against him was pleasantly expected by him and he looked forward to the day when he might share again with his fellow-soldiers the glory and the dangers of the war.
But he was not acquitted, and the verdict of the court came no less as a surprise to the people of the city and of the nation than to the General himself. The following morning they met to pronounce the verdict and they found that on the first charge Major General Arnold had exceeded his rights in giving permission for a vessel to leave port without the knowledge of the City Authorities or of the Commander-in-chief; and as such he was found to have violated technically Article Five, Section Eighteen of the American Articles of War. The second and third charges were dismissed, but he was found to have been imprudent in his temporary use of the wagons. Because of his guilt on these two counts he was sentenced to receive a reprimand from His Excellency, the Commander-in-chief.
He left the court room without a word.
III
"It is precisely what I fear most," Mr. Allison said. "If he curried less the favor of the public, little or naught would come of it, and the reprimand would end the case. But you know Arnold is a conceited man; one who carries his head high. Better to deprive him of life itself than to apply vinegar and gall to his parched lips."
"His return will be hard," Sergeant Griffin observed. He, too, knew the character of the man.
"I doubt if he will return. He has resigned, you know, and may dislike the sight of the city which witnessed his misfortune. Still this is his home and a man's heart is in his home regardless of its environment."
"Do not forget Peggy," Marjorie reminded them. "I know she will never consent to live in the city. I know it. Dear me! The shame of it all would confuse her."
"She might become accustomed to it," replied her father. "All school themselves to the mutations of life."
"Not Peggy. I know her. She will not forgive. Why, I recall quite vividly the violence of her temper and the terror of her wrath. Her own aunt, with whom she was staying for a brief space, took occasion to reprove her for a slight indiscretion. Peggy resented the correction fiercely, and leaving the house at once vowed she never would set foot into it again. That was seven years ago. She has, to my knowledge, never violated that pledge."
Her father shook his head.
"I see it all quite clearly," continued Marjorie. "The General will resent the wrong; Peggy will nurture a fierce indignation. Whatever thoughts of revenge will come to his mind she will ably promote. Have a care to her; her wrath will know no mitigation."
"He never expected the verdict," the sergeant remarked.
"How did he appear?" asked Mr. Allison.
"Splendid. As he entered the court he laughed and jested with several officers with all the self-possession of one of the eye-witnesses. Flashes of the old-time energy and courage were manifest at intervals. There was jubilation displayed on his every feature."
"He was jocose, you say?"
"Extremely so."
"Was this before the trial?"
"Yes. As he entered the Tavern."
"Was Peggy with him?"
"No, indeed. It was not permissible for her to enter. She awaited him outside."
"And yet he maintained his composure throughout."
"He seemed to take delight in relating the resolutions of Congress, its thanks, its gifts, for the many campaigns and the brilliant services rendered his country. His promotions, his horse, his sword, his epaulets and sword-knots, all were recounted and recited enthusiastically."
Mr. Allison looked at Marjorie and smiled.
"Only once did he lose his self-possession. Near the end of his plea he forgot himself and called his accusers a lot of 'women.' This produced a smile throughout the court room; then he regained his composure."
He paused.
"That was all?" asked Mr. Allison.
"I think so. The court adjourned for the day. On the following morning the verdict was announced. I came here direct."
When he had finished he sat quite still. It was approaching a late hour and he saw that he had overstayed his leave. Still the gravity of the occasion required it.
It was these thoughts regarding the future, far more than any great poignancy of grief respecting General Arnold and his present misfortune, that affected this small group. It seemed to them that the events which had of late happened were not without grave and serious consequence. General Arnold was a man of prominence and renown. To lead such a figure to the bar of justice and to examine and determine there in a definite manner his guilt before the whole world was a solemn piece of business. It meant that the new republic was fearless in its denunciation of wrong; that it was intent upon the exercise of those precepts of justice and equity which were written into the bill of rights, the violation of which by a foreign power had constituted originally a set of true grievances; and that it was actuated by a solemn resolution never to permit within its own borders the commission of any of those wrongs which it had staked its life and consecrated its purpose as a nation to destroy. General Arnold was a big man, generous in service to his country, honored as one of its foremost sons, but he was no bigger than the institution he was helping to rear. The chastisement inflicted upon him was a reflection upon the state; but it also was a medication for its own internal disorders.
The fact that the ruling powers of the city were bitterly opposed to the Military Governor was not wholly indicative of the pulse of the people. General Arnold was ever regarded with the highest esteem by the members of the army. A successful leader, a brave soldier, a genial comrade, he was easily the most beloved general after General Washington. With the citizen body of Philadelphia he was on fairly good terms,--popular during the early days of his administration, although somewhat offensive of late because of his indiscretion and impetuosity. Still he was not without his following, and whereas he had made himself odious to a great number of people by his manner of life and of command, there were a greater number of people who were ready to condone his faults out of regard for his brilliant services in the past.
His enemies gloated over his misfortune. Everybody believed that, and it was commonly understood that General Arnold believed it, too. But would he overcome his enemies by retrieving the past and put to shame their vulgar enthusiasm by rising to heights of newer and greater glory? Or would he yield to the more natural propensities of retaliation or despair? A man is no greater than the least of his virtues; but he who has acquired self-control has founded a virtuous inheritance.
With thoughts of this nature were the trio occupied. For several minutes no one spoke. Mr. Allison leaned against the table, his right arm extended along its side, playing with a bodkin that lay within reach; the sergeant sat in silence, watching the face of his entertainer; while Marjorie lolled in her great chair, her eyes downcast, heavy, like two great weights. At length Sergeant Griffin made as if to go. Marjorie arose at once to bid him adieu.
"You said you came direct?" she reminded him.
"Yes, Miss Allison."
"You saw----" she hesitated, but quickly added, "Captain Meagher?"
She would have said "Stephen" but bethought herself.
"No, Miss. Not since the trial."
"He was not present?"
"No. He is with His Excellency. Several days ago I saw him and he bade me come here with the report of the finding."
"That was all?"
"Yes, Miss."
"Thank you. We can never repay your kindness."
"Its performance was my greatest delight."
"Thank you. Good night!"
She withdrew into the hall. _