The Loyalist Part 50

"Our house? This is yours, Margaret, and, by G.o.d, they shall not deprive you of it. No! We will not sell our house. This is yours for life, and our children's."

"Well, we can rent it for the present. For, if you go, I am going, too."

"Very well. We shall see what the future holds out for us. Give me that stool."

He pointed to the small chair over against her. She arose at once and set it before him. He placed his foot upon it.

"When I think of what I have done for them and then compare their grat.i.tude. Congress must owe me at least six or seven thousand pounds, not to mention my life's blood which never can be replaced. I have been a fool, a fool who does not know his own mind."

"Didn't I predict what the outcome would be? I felt this from the moment Anderson left. And what were you charged with? A technical violation of the code of war. There was no actual guilt nor any evidence in support of the charge. Were the least shadow of a fault in evidence, you may be a.s.sured that it would have been readily found. You were innocent of the charge. But you were technically guilty that they might plead excuse for their hate."

"I know it, girl ... I know it ... I see it all now. I tried hard to disbelieve it." He seemed sad, as he muttered his reply and slowly shook his head.

He was still for a moment and then sat suddenly upright.

"But by the living G.o.d!" It was surprising how quickly he could pa.s.s from mood to mood. Now the old-time fire gleamed in his eyes. Now the unrestrained, impetuous, pa.s.sionate General, the intrepid, fearless leader of Quebec, Ridgefield, Saratoga, revealed himself with all his old-time energy and determination of purpose.

"By the living G.o.d!" he repeated with his hand high in the air, his fist clenched, "They shall pay me double for every humiliation, for every calumny, for every insult I have had to endure. They sought cause against me; they shall find it."

"Hus.h.!.+ My dear," cautioned Peggy, "not so loud. The servants will overhear you."

"The world shall overhear me before another month. Revenge knows no limit and is a sweet consolation to a brave man. I shall shame this profligate Congress, and overwhelm my enemies with no mean accomplishment, but with an achievement worthy of my dignity and power.

They shall pay me. Ha! they shall; by G.o.d! They shall."

Peggy arose at his violent outbreak, fearing lest she might antagonize him the more. It was useless to talk further, for he was enraged to a point beyond all endurance. She would leave him alone, hoping that he would recover his normal state again.

She walked to the window as if to look out. Then she turned and vanished through the doorway into the hall.

IV

Several days later a courier rode up to the door and summoned General Arnold before him, into whose care he delivered a letter from the Headquarters of the Commander-in-chief. Strangely excited, the General failed to perceive the ident.i.ty of the messenger as he saluted and made the usual brief inquiries. Only after the courier was well down the road did the memory of his strangely familiar face recur to him. But he was too preoccupied with the doc.u.ment to give him any more attention.

Breaking the seal he scanned the introductory addresses and read his reprimand from his Commander-in-chief, a reprimand couched in the tenderest language, a duty performed with the rarest delicacy and tact.

"Our profession is the chastest of all," it read. "Even the shadow of a fault tarnishes the l.u.s.ter of our finest achievements. The least inadvertence may rob us of the public favor so hard to be acquired. I reprimand you for having forgotten that, in proportion as you have rendered yourself formidable to our enemies, you should have been guarded and temperate in your deportment towards your fellow citizens.

Exhibit anew those n.o.ble qualities which have placed you on the list of our most valued commanders. I myself will furnish you, as far as it may be in my power, with opportunities of regaining the esteem of your country."

Slipping it again into its envelope, he slammed the door.

PART THREE

CHAPTER I

I

In one of those wide indentations along the eastern sh.o.r.e of the Schuylkill River, there opens out in tranquil seclusion a s.p.a.cious cove.

The waters wander here to rest, it seems, before resuming their voluminous descent to the Delaware and the sea. Trees and saplings wrapped about with close-clinging vines hang far over the water's edge like so many silent sentinels on guard before the spot, their luxuriant foliage weighing their bending twigs almost to the surface. Green lily-pads and long ribboned water gra.s.s border the water's curve, and toss gently in the wind ripples as they glide inwards with just murmur enough to lull one to quiet and repose.

Into this scene, placid, clear, though of a deep and dark green under the overhanging leaves, stole a small canoe with motion enough scarcely to ruffle the top of the water. A paddle noiselessly dipped into the undisturbed surface and as noiselessly emerged again, leaving behind only a series of miniature eddies where the waters had closed after their penetration. A small white hand, hanging lazily over the forward side of the tiny craft, played in the soft, limpid water, and made a furrow along the side of the boat that glistened like so many strings of sparkling jewels.

"So you are going away again tomorrow?" Marjorie was saying as she continued to dabble in the water.

She lay partly reclining in the bow of the canoe, her back supported by a pillow. A meditative silence enshrouded her as she lay listless, unconcerned to all appearances, as to her whereabouts or destination.

The while she thought, the more steadily she gazed at the waters as she splashed them gently and playfully. Like a caress the silence of the place descended upon her, and brought home to her the full import of her loneliness.

"In view of what you have disclosed to me, I think it only my duty,"

Stephen replied as he lazily stroked the paddle.

Again there was silence.

"I wish you weren't going," she finally murmured.

He looked straight at her, holding his arm motionless for the s.p.a.ce of a moment.

"It is good of you to say that," was the measured reply. "This has been a most delightful day, and I have enjoyed this glimpse of you very much."

Raising her eyes she thanked him with a look.

"You must remember that it has been due to no fault of mine that I have seen so little of you," he continued.

"Nor mine," came back the whisper.

"True," he said. "Events have moved so rapidly during the past month that I was enabled to keep abreast of them only with the greatest difficulty."

"I daresay we all are proud of your achievement."

"G.o.d has been good to us. I must thank you, too."

"Me?" She grinned with contempt. "I am sure when the truth is known that I shall be found more an instrument of evil than of good."

"I wish you would not say that."

"I cannot say otherwise, for I know it to be true."

"Do not depreciate your efforts. They have been invaluable to me.

Remember, it was you who greatly confirmed my suspicions of Anderson. I did acquire some facts myself; but it was due to the information which you imparted to me that I was enabled to join together several ambiguous clews."

"Really?"

"And you must remember that it was through your cooperation that my attention was first drawn to General Arnold."