"Jim?"

"Yes. I learned that last night. Today I mean to see Jim to learn the particulars. After that we shall be in a position to decide further. You will be here when I return?"

"Yes. I shall stay here."

"I won't go until late this afternoon. Until then keep your eye open."

"Yes, sir," he replied, saluting.

II

When Stephen had presented himself that afternoon at Jim Cadwalader's modest home, he had almost persuaded himself that all would not be well. That the members of the Catholic regiment, whom Anderson boasted had totaled nearly an hundred, could so easily be dissuaded from their original purpose, he thought highly improbable. He was well aware that some of his co-religionists had been subject to British official or personal influence; that other some were vehemently opposed to the many outrages which had been committed and condoned in the name of Liberty; that others still were not unmindful of the spirit of hostility displayed by the Colonists during the early days, and had now refused for that reason to take sides with their intolerant neighbors in their struggle for Independence. Hence it was quite true that many Catholics were loyal to the mother country, more loyal, in fact, than they were to the principles of American Independence and the land of their birth.

These, he feared, might have composed the bulk of the recruits and these might be the less easily dissuaded. On the other hand, he was satisfied that many who were unwilling to barter their allegiance had been constrained to yield. If the complexion of the regiment was of the latter variety, all would be well. His misgivings were not without foundation.

He knocked upon the small white door of Jim's house and inquired of Mrs.

Cadwalader if he might see her husband. Jim was at the door even as he spoke, and grasped his hand warmly, exchanging the greetings of the day.

He then led him to the chairs under the great tree.

"I want to see you on a matter of great importance," Stephen said with no further delay. "Tell me about Mr. Anderson."

"I guess ther' ain't much t' tell," Jim replied.

"You have held conference with him?"

"'Twas him thet held it; not me."

"About the Regiment?"

"Aye!"

"Have you signed your name?"

"I hed t'."

He was all in a fever, for his manner and his hesitation indicated it.

"When do they meet?"

"Thursda' next."

"Are you sure?"

"Anderson hisself jest told me."

"He has been here already?"

"Ye-eh, this aft'rnoon."

He looked down upon the ground, considering.

"Where do they meet?"

"Th' bas.e.m.e.nt o' th' Baptist Church."

"Tell me, Jim," Stephen asked quietly. "Why did you enlist in that company?"

"I hed t', I told ye."

"Were you compelled to?"

"I was."

And then he told him of the number of debts which beset him, and the starvation which was beginning to p.r.i.c.k him. He told of the first visit of Anderson and his offer of four pounds to every volunteer in the new regiment of Catholic soldiers. He declared that he had refused absolutely to take part in any disloyal act, however great might be the reward, and had said that he preferred to starve until the colonists had obtained their rights. He then told of Anderson's second visit, during which he offered to relieve him of all financial obligations on condition that he would sign with him; which offer he again refused. And finally he related how he was threatened with imprisonment for his indebtedness, and was actually served with the papers of arrest and confinement in the stocks unless his signature was given, and how he was at length obliged to yield and sign over the allegiance.

Stephen listened intently throughout it all, oddly studying the face of his companion, reading into his very soul as he spoke. He was satisfied now with Cadwalader's story.

"Jim," he said at length. "You do not want to join this regiment?"

"No, sir!" he exclaimed aloud. "Not a bit uv it."

"If I promise to a.s.sist you to escape from this man, will you lend me your help?"

"Will I? Enythin' y' ask, sir."

His eyes brightened with manifest ardor.

"I want to go to that meeting, and I want you to let me take your place."

"Sure, y' ken."

"And I want to borrow your clothes."

"I ain't got much," observed Jim, extending his hands and looking down at his clothing, "but what I hev, is yours."

"And I want you to be in the vicinity of the building to join in any agitation which may result against Mr. Anderson."

"I'll do thet, too."

"Of course, if we fail it may go hard with us. A crowd is an uncertain element to deal with, you realize. But it is our only chance. Will you take it?"

"O' course, I'll take it. I'll do enythin' y' say, enythin'."

"And Jim! You know of many so-called members of that company who have been impressed in a manner similar to yours and who, very likely, are of the same state of mind as you."

"I know meny, sir."

"Very good! Can you not move among them and acquaint them secretly with what I have just told you? Secure their cooperation for me so that, when the moment comes, I may depend upon them for support. Urge them, too, to join in whatever demonstration may be made against the project."