The Loyalist Part 49

"Announce your defection, return to the royal cause, agree to the terms which His Majesty's peace commissioners will make, and earn the everlasting grat.i.tude of your countrymen, like Monk and Churchill."

So the letter concluded with the humble respects and obediences of John Anderson. Arnold did not fold it, but continued to stare at it for several minutes, as if trying to decide upon some definite course of action in regard to it. At length he arose and limped to the desk, and, drawing out from its small drawer several sheets of paper, began his reply.

But he did not conclude it. Hearing footfalls in the hallway, he hastily folded the several papers, Anderson's letter included, and stuck them into his breast pocket. He sat motionless, with the pen poised in his hand, as Peggy entered.

III

"You here?" she asked.

He did not reply, nor make any movement.

"Another resignation? or applying for a new command?"

He now turned full about and faced her.

"No. I was just thinking."

"Of what?"

She stood before him, her arms akimbo.

"Of many things. First of all we must leave here."

"When?"

"I don't know."

"Well then, where?"

"To New York."

"Do you mean it?"

Now she sat down, pulling a chair near to him in order that she might converse the more readily.

"I am thinking of writing for a new command in the army."

He thought best not to tell her of his original purpose in writing, nor of the letter which he had received from Anderson. Whatever foul schemes he may have concocted, he did not desire to acquaint her with their full nature. Enough for her to know that he intended to defect without her being a party to the plot.

"Did I interrupt you? Pardon me!" she made as if to go.

"Stay. That can wait. You were right. They were against me."

"I felt it all the time. You know yourself how they despise you."

"But I never thought----"

"What?" was the interruption. "You never thought? You did, but you were not man enough to realize it. Reed would stop at nothing, and if the colonists gain complete independence, the Catholic population will give you no peace. That you already know. You have persecuted them."

"What are they? A bare twenty or twenty-five thousand out of a population of, let us say, three million."

"No matter. They will grow strong after the war. Unfortunately they have stuck true to the cause."

"Bah! I despise them. It is the others, the Congress, Lincoln, Gates, Lee, Wayne. They will acquire the honors. Washington will be king."

"And you?"

"I'm going to change my post."

She smiled complacently, and folded her arms.

"Under Washington?"

She knew better, but she made no attempt to conceal her feigned simplicity.

He looked at her without comment.

Whether he shrunk from unfolding to her the sickening details of his despicable plan, or whether he judged it sufficient for her to know only the foul beginnings of his treason without being initiated into its wretched consummation; whether it was due to any of these reasons or simply to plain indifference or perhaps to both, he became unusually silent on this subject from this moment onward. It was enough for her to realize that he had been shabbily treated by the Congress and by the people, that he had long considered the American cause hopeless and had abandoned his interest in it on account of the recent alliance with the government of France. In her eyes he thought it would be heroic for him to resign his command, and even to defect to the side of the enemy on these grounds,--on the strength of steadfastly adhering to his ancient principles. He knew well that she had counseled such a step and was enthusiastic in urging its completion, nevertheless he sensed that the enormity and the depravity of his base design was too revolting, too shocking, for even her ears. He would not even acquaint her with Anderson's letter nor with the purpose he had of concurring with the proposition it contained.

"Did you receive a letter from Anderson?" she asked suddenly.

"Yes. He wrote to inform me that he had escaped in safety and is now in New York."

"No more?"

"No. He did comment on the frustration of the plot, and expressed a desire to learn the ident.i.ty of the disturber."

"You will tell him?"

"Later. Not now."

There was a pause.

"Do you intend to take active part in the coming campaigns? You know your leg will prevent you from leading a strenuous life in the field.

Why not ask for some other post, or retire to private life? I want to get out of this city."

"I am about to write for a new command. I have one friend left in the person of His Excellency, and he will not leave me 'naked to mine enemies,' as the great Wolsey once said."

"But he is to reprimand you," she reminded him.

"No matter. That is his duty. I blame the people and the court which was enslaved to them for my humiliation. They shall pay for it, however."

"Let us leave together. Announce your desire of joining arms with the British and let us set out at once for New York. Mr. Anderson will take care of the details. You know his address?"

"Yes."

"You have fought the war alone; end it alone. Settle your claims with the government and let us sell our house."