He looked around slowly.

"You took me for what I am," he said to her. "I gave you prestige, wealth, happiness. But I have promised my life to my country if she requires it and I shall never withdraw that promise while I live. Better the grave of the meanest citizen than the mausoleum of a traitor."

"But think of your country!" insisted Anderson.

"Anderson," was the reply, "I know the needs of the country and I know deeply my own grievances. Suppose I yield to your suggestions and Britain fails,"--he paused as if to measure the consequences. "I shall be doomed. I shall be called a bigot. My children will hate me."

He seemed to waver. His earlier enthusiasm apparently diminished before their attack.

"But," continued Anderson, "with your aid Britain cannot fail. And remember how England rewards those who render her great and signal services. Look at the majestic column at Blenheim Palace reared to the memory of John Churchill, Duke of Marlborough. Contrast with it what Peggy has just said, the ingrat.i.tude, the injustice, the meanness, with which Congress has treated you."

"Must the end justify the means?" he mused. "Can you continue to urge me to duplicate the treachery of Churchill, who can never be forgiven for his treason? Whatever else he may have achieved, you must remember he was first and last a traitor."

"He was doubly a traitor, if you are pleased to so stigmatize him. He first betrayed his benefactor, James, to ally himself with the Prince of Orange; and then, on the pretext of remorse, broke faith with William; acted the part of a spy in his court and camp; offered to corrupt his troops and lead them over to James; and still all was forgotten in the real service which he rendered to his country, and his name has gone into history----"

He was interrupted by a sharp sound, as if some one had stepped upon a branch or a twig, causing it to snap beneath his feet. On the instant, Anderson was upon his feet, his hand feeling instinctively for his pistol.

"We are betrayed," he whispered. "There is a spy here."

All had arisen in silence and were peering into the blackness of the night whence the sound apparently came. Anderson thought he saw a figure emerge from behind a tree far off in the distance and he immediately gave chase, opening fire as he did so. Several times he fired into the dark s.p.a.ce before him, for it was bristling with shade, notwithstanding the obscure light of the moon. As he covered the wide area between him and the river, the lithe form of a man emerged from the wooded area and disappeared down the incline which led to the water. Nearing the bank he heard distinctly the splash of the body and he fired again into the spot whence the noise arose. The waters were still in commotion when he reached them, but there was no one to be found; nothing save the gentle undulation of the surface as it closed over its burden, and gradually became placid under the soft stillness of the night. After several minutes of intense vigilance, he slowly retraced his steps.

III

"The river has swallowed him," he exclaimed as he neared Arnold and Peggy, who were standing quite motionless at the side of the settees.

"Who was it?" the General asked eagerly.

"I did not see him. He disappeared into the river. I heard the splash of his dive and fired several times in its direction, but saw no one."

"Did he swim it?"

"No! I would have seen him. The water was unruffled except for the disturbance caused by his dive. The poor devil must have sunk to the bottom. Perhaps one of my shots took effect."

"I don't like this," muttered Arnold. "I would not have that conversation overheard for the crown of England. An enemy was near. I hope to G.o.d he is in the bottom of the river."

"Still, I may have hit him. I was no more than fifty yards away."

"I shall have the bed dragged in the morning. I could not rest without finding him. His ident.i.ty must be learned."

Leaving the settees, they set off in the direction of the house, entering by the rear door. The servants were already in alarm over the shooting and were standing in a group behind the threshold motionless with awe. Peggy paused to a.s.sure them of their safety, narrating briefly the cause of the disturbance, together with the probable fate of the spy. She rejoined her husband and his guest in the drawing-room.

"I wonder who the intruder was?" Arnold muttered. There was a look of worry and anxiety on his face. His fingers nervously locked and interlocked, and the next moment grasped his chin and rubbed his cheek.

He put his foot upon the stool and took it down again. Then he sat forward in his chair.

"Reed is behind this," he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "You will find out that I am right. Reed has done this, or has sent one of his lieutenants. d.a.m.n him!

He has hounded me."

"I may have been tracked. Perhaps it was I who was sought. My late movements might have created suspicion, and it is possible that I was shadowed here."

"No, Anderson. No! It was not you they were seeking. It is I, I tell you. Reed has been watching me like a sharpshooter from the day I arrived. He has been the author of the rumors which you have heard about town, and he would risk his life to be enabled to establish a serious charge against me. I am sure of it. Reed is behind this; Reed and the City Council."

"It was a nimble form----"

"Did you say you thought you hit him?" he asked nervously, seeking some source of comfort and a.s.surance.

"As I live, I hit him," Anderson promised him. "Else I would have discovered him in the act of swimming. He is in the bottom of the river."

"That's good, d.a.m.n him. Oh! If it were but Reed himself! He haunts me."

"He would not haunt you did you but remove yourself from here,"

volunteered Peggy.

"I know it. I know it," he repeated. "But how can I?"

"I suggested one avenue to you," proposed Anderson.

"Which?"

He awaited the answer.

"Via England."

His face glared with a livid red. He brought his fist high above his head.

"By heavens!" he roared. "I won't hear that again. I won't listen to it, I tell you. I'm afraid to do it. I cannot do it. I cannot."

He shook his head as he slowly repeated the words.

"Pardon me," Anderson pleaded, "I intended no harm. I apologize most sincerely for my impertinence. It will not happen again, I a.s.sure you."

"That will do. Drop it at that."

"The vessel will be ready next week? The meeting, then, can take place a week from Thursday."

"Undoubtedly."

"You will a.s.sure me of your interest?"

He was on the point of going. Though he had conquered, still, he did not know that he had conquered. He believed, as he turned and faced his friend for the last time in Mount Pleasant, that his mind was fully made up and that he had decided for all time in favor of the cause, at the sacrifice of himself.

"I shall do what I can," Arnold whispered, "but no more."

He parted from them at the threshold.

CHAPTER VI