_ PART ONE
CHAPTER VIII
I
But she did not return the paper. For with the commotion of the guests in the several orders of their going, a serious business of felicitation and devoir was demanded alongside of which all other matters only served as distractions. Consequently, the note once placed within her bodice, all thought of it vanished for the remainder of the evening.
Only when she had returned home that night, fatigued and almost disgusted with the perfunctory performances of the evening, did she discover it, and then not until she was about to remove the garment within whose folds it lay concealed. It fell to the ground; she stooped to pick it up.
"Oh, dear! I quite forgot it. I must attend to it the first thing in the morning."
And she placed it on the dresser where it could not escape her eye. Then she retired.
But she did not sleep. There she lay wide awake tossing nervously to and fro. She tried to close her eyes only to find them wandering about the room in the obscure dimness, focusing themselves now on the old mahogany dresser, now on the little prie-Dieu against the inner wall with the small ivory crucifix outlined faintly above it, now on the chintz hangings that covered the window. She could hear her heart, pounding its great weight of bitterness against the pillow; and as she listened she thought of Stephen's arrest and of its thousand and one horrible consequences. She tried to congratulate herself on her sweet serenity and the serenity only mocked her and anticipation loomed as fiercely as before.
The next she knew was a quiet awakening, as if her mother's hand had been put gently on her arm. Outside ten thousand light leaves shivered gently and the birds were calling to one another in melodious tones. This was her first glimpse of the day and it sent her suddenly to her knees.
Stephen came late that afternoon. He had not been expected; yet she was happy because he came. She had done little that day; had not left the house, nor dressed for the occasion. The note was where she had left it, and all reference to it buried with her thoughts of the evening.
"I cannot yet tell how it has been decided. They went into executive session at once."
"But,... Surely,... They could not find you guilty?"
"Oh, well."
"Please.... Won't you tell me?"
"There is little to tell. It was very brief."
He could not become enthusiastic.
"Then you were put to trial?" she asked with an apprehension uncertain in quality.
"Yes."
"Go on. Tell me."
He was silent. He desired to withhold nothing from her, yet he could not find the words he wanted.
"What happened?" She was persistent.
"Well.... I don't know.... I soured on the whole proceeding. The court-martial met, the Regimental Court Martial, with three members. This was permissible. They began, reading the charge as preferred by Colonel Forrest, which was to the effect that I had been guilty of striking my superior officer, Colonel Forrest, by attempting to choke him. To this was added the accusation of abusive, threatening language as well as a threat of murder. I, of course, pleaded not guilty; nor did I prepare any defense. The affair was so trivial that I was surprised that it ever had been brought to trial."
"How long did the proceedings last?"
"They were very brief. Several witnesses were examined, the chief one being Mr. Anderson."
"I know him," remarked Marjorie.
"You know him?"
"I met him last evening at Shippens'."
"Did he say aught about me?"
"Not a word."
"Well, he appeared against me. After a few more preliminary questions I was put on the stand in my own defense. I told briefly the circumstances which led to the incident (I would not call it an assault, for I continually maintained it to be of a trivial nature and worthy only of an explanation). I told how the Colonel had used certain derogatory remarks against the faith that I believed and practiced, which occasioned a violent argument. This, I think, was the great mistake I made, for it appeared to make an unfavorable impression upon the Court. In this respect they were unquestionably on the side of Forrest. Then I related the remark incident to my action, and announced that I would repeat the deed under similar circumstances were the same disrespectful language directed against the Commander-in-chief. This, I fear, made little impression either since I was already attached to the staff of General Washington. And a jealous rival general was about to decide my guilt. That ended it. I was excused and the Court adjourned."
He paused.
"For these reasons I have serious misgivings as to my fate."
"What can happen to you?"
"I do not know. It may result in a suspension, and it may result in a verdict of 'not guilty.'"
"Will you know very soon?"
"I shall be summoned before them."
Neither spoke for a time.
"Do you know," observed Marjorie, "I greatly mistrust General Arnold and I fear that he already has decided against you."
"What causes you to say that?"
"Well ... I don't know ... I just think it. While listening to him last evening I drew that impression."
"Did he say anything against us?"
"He is enraged at Congress and he has long felt persecuted and insulted by the people. He desires a command in the navy and has already written Washington to that effect; and again he would petition Congress for a grant of land in New York where he would retire to private life, for he vows he never will again draw sword on the American side."
"Did he say this?" asked Stephen.
"He did."
"Do you think that he was sincere?"
"I really do. He talked with all the earnestness of a man of conviction. Somehow or other I greatly mistrust him. And he is extremely bigoted."
"I rather suspect this, although I have had no proofs of it. If he is, it will out very soon."
"And you may be assured, too, that he will have an able adjutant in Peggy. She is his counterpart in every particular."
He looked at her as she spoke, and was amazed by the excitement in her face. She talked excitedly; her eyes, those large vivacious brown eyes that looked out of her pretty oval face, were alight, and her face had gone pale.
"I was interested in them last evening and with the apparent zeal displayed by Peggy's mother in favor of the match. I would not be surprised to hear of an announcement from that source at any time."
"Has it reached that stage?"
"Most assuredly! I decided that they already are on terms of intimacy where secrets now obtain a common value."
"You think that?"
"Well.... I do.... Yes. I know, for instance that he had a letter in his possession which was addressed to her, which letter had its origin in New York."
"How came he by it?"
"She must have given it to him. I have it now."
"You have it?"
He sat up very much surprised.
"Where did you get it?"
"I found it."
"Did you read it?"
"No."
She smiled at him, and at his great perplexity over the apparent mystery.
And then she told him of the little party; of herself and Mr. Anderson, and their intrusion upon General Arnold and Peggy; of their conversation and the falling of the note; of her subsequent return for it together with the placing of it within her bodice and the state of temporary oblivion into which the incident finally had lapsed.
"You have that letter now?" he asked with no attempt to conceal his anxiety.
"Yes. Upstairs."
"May I see it? Really I would not ask this did I not think it quite important."
"Very well."
She left to fetch it.
"Who is this man, Anderson?" Stephen asked upon her return. "Do you know him?"
"No. But he is very engaging. He was my partner during the evening."
She did not deem it wise to tell him everything, at least not at this time.
"How long have you known him?" he inquired impatiently.
She smiled sweetly at him.
"Since last night," was the brief response.
"Where did he come from?"
"I scarce know. You yourself mentioned his name for the first time to me. I was greatly surprised when presented to him last night."
"Did he come with General Arnold's party, or is he a friend of Peggy's?"
"I don't think Peggy knew him before, although she may have met him with some of the officers before last evening. I should imagine from what you already know that he is acquainted with the Governor's party and through them received an invitation to be present.
"Did he say aught of himself?"
"Scarcely a thing. He has not been a resident of the city for any length of time, but where he originated, or what he purposes, I did not learn. I rather like him. He is well-mannered, refined and richly talented."
"I sensed immediately that he was endowed with engaging personal qualities, and gifted with more than ordinary abilities," Stephen commented. "I have yet to learn his history, which is one of my duties, notwithstanding the unfortunate state of affairs which has lately come to pass."
He stopped and took the letter which she held out to him. He opened it and read it carefully. Then he deliberately read it again.
"You say no one knows of this?"
"I am quite sure. Certainly no one saw me find it, although I am not certain that I alone saw it fall."
"You are sure that it was in the Governor's possession?"
"Quite. I saw it distinctly in his belt. I saw it fall to the ground when he caught hold of the sword knots."
He leaned forward and reflected for a moment with his eyes intent on the note which he held opened before him. Suddenly he sat back in his chair and looked straight at her.
"Marjorie," he said, "you promised to be of whatever assistance you could. Do you recall that promise?"
"Very well."
"Will you lend your assistance to me now?"
She hesitated, wondering to what extent the demand might be made.
"Are you unwilling?" he asked, for he perceived her timid misgiving.
"No. What is it you want me to do?"
"Simply this. Let me have this note."
She deliberated.
"Would not that be unfair to Peggy?"
She feared that her sense of justice was being violated.
"She does not know that you have it."
"But I mean to tell her."
"Please!... Well!... Well!... Need you do that immediately? Could you not let me have it for a few days? I shall return it to you. You can then take it to her."
"You will let no one see it?"
"Absolutely!"
"Very well. And you will return it to me?"
"I promise."
And so it was agreed that Stephen should take the letter with him, which he promised to return together with the earliest news of the result of his court-martial.
He stood up.
II
Stephen came out the little white gate closing it very deliberately behind him and immediately set off at a brisk pace down the street. Every fiber within him thrilled with energy. The road was dusty and hot, and his pace grew very strenuous and fervent. There was no breeze; there was no sound of wheels; all was quiet as the bells tolled out the hour of six. Nevertheless he trudged along with great haste without once stopping until he had reached the door of his lodgings.
He turned the key and entered, closing the door behind him and taking the greatest of care to see that it was properly bolted. Flinging his hat into a chair as he passed, he went immediately to the table which served as his desk. While he pulled himself close to it, he reached into his pocket for the letter. He opened it before him and read it. Then he sat back and read it again; this time aloud:
Co. 13
Headquarters, New York.
15 July, 1778.
Madame:--I am happy to have this opportunity to once again express my humble respects to you and to assure you that yourself together with your generous and hospitable friends are causing us much concern separated as we are by the duress of a merciless war. We lead a monotonous life, for outside of the regularities of army life, there is little to entertain us. Our hearts are torn with pangs of regret as we recall the golden days of the Mischienza.
I would I could be of some service to you here, that you may understand that my protestations of zeal made on former occasions were not without some degree of sincerity. Let me add, too, that your many friends here present unite with me in these same sentiments of unaffected and genuine devotion.
I beg you to present my best respects to your sisters, to the Misses Chew, and to Mrs. Shippen and Mrs. Chew.
I have the honor to be with the greatest regard, Madame, your most obedient and most humble servant,
W. CATHCART.
Miss Peggy Shippen,
Philadelphia.
His face was working oddly, as if with mingled perplexity and pleasure; and he caught his lip in his teeth, as his manner was. What was this innocent note? Could it be so simple as it appeared? Vague possibilities passed through his mind.
The longer he gazed at it the more simple it became, so that he was on the point of folding it and replacing it in his pocket, sadly disconcerted at its insignificance. He had hoped that he might have stumbled across something of real value, not only some secret information concerning the designs of the enemy, but also some evidence of an incriminating nature against his own acquaintances in the city.
Suddenly he thought he saw certain letters dotted over, not entirely perceptible, yet quite discernible. He turned the paper over. The reverse was perfectly clear. He held it to the light but nothing appeared through.
"By Jove!" he exclaimed softly.
He looked closely again. Sure enough there were faint markings on several of the letters. The "H" was marked. So with the "V" in "have," and the "A" and the "L." Snatching a pencil and a sheet of paper he made a list of the letters so marked.
HVANLADERIIGAERODIRCUTN
This meant nothing. That was apparent; nor could he make sense out of any combination of letters. He knew that there were certain codes whereby the two progressions, arithmetical and geometric were employed in their composition, but this seemingly answered to none of them. He went over the list again, comparing them with the marked letters as found in the note. Yes, they were identical. He had copied them faithfully.
He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.
"So this was sent to Peggy from New York," he muttered to himself. "I strongly suspected that she was in communication with her British friends, although I never came in contact with the slightest evidence. This certainly proves it."
He held the letter at a distance from him, attentively surveying it.
"And General Arnold has been interested, too. Very likely, Marjorie's hypothesis is the true one. They had been reading the note when the newcomers arrived on the scene and the General stuck it in his belt until their greetings had been ended. Neither of them now know of its whereabouts; that much is certain."
He stood up suddenly and strode about the room, his hands clasped behind him. Going to the window, he peered out through the small panes of glass of the uncurtained upper half. There burned the light across the dusk--a patch of jeweled color in the far off western sky. Yet it awakened no emotion at all.
His mind was engaged in the most intricate process of thought. He deduced a hundred conclusions and rejected them with equal promptitude. He greatly admired General Arnold as the bravest leader in the line, whose courage, whose heroism, whose fearlessness had brought him signal successes. There was no more popular soldier in the army, nor one more capable of more effective service. To have his career clogged or goaded by a woman, who when she either loves or hates will dare anything, would be a dreadful calamity. Yet it seemed as if he had surrendered his better self.
This man Anderson puzzled him. Personally he was disposed to dislike him, that being the logical effect of his relations with him. At the Coffee House, where he had met him, and where he had suffered his better judgment to become dormant, it was this man who had brought him to the pitch of irritation by means of a religious argument, while at the trial it was the same Anderson who appeared as an excellent witness and who by his clever, deliberate and self-possessed manner, made a strong point for the Colonel in the minds of the court.
What was his origin? That he might never know, for of all subjects, this was the most artfully avoided. In the capacity of a civilian he was engaged in no fixed occupation so far as could be learned, and it was commonly known that he was a frequent visitor at the Governor's mansion. That he did not belong to the service, he knew very well, unless the man was affecting a disguise; this, however, he thought highly improbable. The French Alliance had been further confirmed by the arrival of the fleet, which brought many strangers to the city. Now as he thought of it, he had a certain manner about him somewhat characteristic of the French people, and it was entirely possible that he might have disembarked with the French visitors. He was a mystery anyhow.
"Strange I should stumble across this chap," he mumbled to himself.
III
He awoke with a start.
Just what the hour was, he could not know, for it was intensely dark. He reckoned that it could not be long after midnight, for it seemed as if he had scarcely fallen asleep. But there was a wonderful burst of light to his mind, a complete clarity of thought into which often those do awake who have fallen asleep in a state of great mental conflict. He opened his eyes and, as it were, beheld all that he was about to do; there was also a very vivid memory of his experience of the evening.
He arose hurriedly and struck a light. He seized the letter in search of the momentous something that had dawned upon him with wonderful intensity.
"Company Thirteen," he remarked with deliberate emphasis. "That must be the key."
And seizing a paper he wrote the order of letters which he had copied from the note a few hours before.
HVANLADERIIG
He stopped at the thirteenth, and began a second line immediately under the line he had just written.
AERODIRCUTN
It inserted perfectly when read up and down beginning with the letter "H". He completed the sentence.
HAVE ARNOLD AID RECRUITING
He could not believe his eyes. What did it all mean? What regiment was this? Why should this be sent from a British officer to Peggy Shippen? There were mixed considerations here.
There was a satisfaction, a very great satisfaction, in the knowledge that he was not entirely mistaken in his suspicions concerning Peggy. She was in communication with the British and perhaps had been for some time. This fact in itself was perfectly plain. The proof of it lay in his hand. Whether or not His Excellency was involved in the nefarious work was another question quite. The mere fact of the note being in his possession signified nothing, or if anything, no more than a coincidence. He might have read the note and, at the same time, have been entirely ignorant of the cipher, or he might have received this hidden information from the lips of Peggy herself, who undoubtedly had deciphered it at once.
Yet what was the meaning of it all? There was no new call for volunteers, although, Heaven knows, there was an urgent need for them, the more especially after the severe winter at Valley Forge. Recruits had become exceedingly scarce, many of whom were already deserting to the British army at the rate of over a hundred a month while those who remained were without food or clothing. And when they were paid, they could buy, only with the greatest difficulty, a single bushel of wheat from the fruits of their four month's labor. And did it prove to be true that a new army was about to be recruited, why should the enemy manifest so much interest? The new set of difficulties into which he was now involved were more intricate than ever before.
He extinguished the light and went to bed.
The next day a number of copies of the New York
Gazette and
Weekly Mercury of the issue of July 13, 1778, found their way into the city. They were found to contain the following advertisement:
For the encouragement of all
Gentlemen Volunteers,
Who are willing to serve in his Majesty's Regt. of
Roman Catholic Volunteers,
Commanded by
Lieut.--Col. Commandant,
ALFRED CLIFTON
During the present wanton and unnatural Rebellion,
AND NO LONGER,
The sum of FOUR POUNDS,
will be given above the usual Bounty,
A suit of NEW CLOTHES,
And every other necessary to complete a Gentleman soldier.
Those who are willing to show their attachment to their King and
country by engaging in the above regiment, will call at Captain
M'Kennon, at No. 51, in Cherry-street, near the Ship Yards, NEW
YORK, or at Major John Lynch, encamped at Yellow-Hook, where
they will receive present pay and good quarters.
N. B.--Any person bringing a well-bodied loyal subject to either
of the above places, shall receive ONE GUINEA for his trouble.
God Save the King.
_