"Are you going to remain here?" asked Mr. Allison.

"I am going to take some breakfast, first; then I shall busy myself with a report. I may be busy for several days away from the city. In the meantime I would advise that the whole affair be aired as much as possible. There is nothing like supplying the public mind with food.

Meet me, Jim, at the Coffee House; or are you coming with me?"

"Guess I'll go. This man wants t' eat."

II

The City Council did meet, as rumor announced to Sergeant Griffin, and immediately published charges against David Franks, the father of the aide-de-camp of the Military Governor, charging him with being in correspondence with his brother in London, who was holding the office of Commissary for British prisoners. He was ordered to be placed under immediate arrest. At the same time formal charges, partly of a military nature, partly of a civil, were preferred against the Military Governor.

Copies of indictment were laid before Congress and before the Governors of the states, who were asked to communicate them to their respective legislatures.

The press became wildly excited. Great headlines announced the startling news to the amazement of the country. For, it must be remembered, Philadelphia was the center of government and colonial life, and the eyes of the infant nation were turned continually in its direction.

General Arnold's name soon became a subject for conversation on every side.

None took the news more to heart than the General himself, as he sat in his great drawing-room with a copy of the evening news sheet before him.

Being of an imaginative, impulsive nature it was natural for him to worry, but tonight there was the added feature of the revelation of his guilt. Reed had pursued him relentlessly, and the public announcement of his partic.i.p.ation in the attempted formation of this detestable regiment only furnished the President of the Council with the opening he had so long desired. He re-read the charges preferred against him, his name across the front in big bold type. In substance they were as follows:

First: That the Military Governor had issued a pa.s.s for a vessel employed by the enemy, to come into port without the knowledge of the State authorities or of the Commander-in-chief.

Second: That upon taking possession of the city he had closed the shops and stores, preventing the public from purchasing, while at the same time, "as was believed," he had made considerable purchases for his own benefit.

Third: That he imposed menial offices upon the militia when called into service.

Fourth: That in a dispute over the capture of a prize brought in by a state privateer he had purchased the suit at a low and inadequate price.

Fifth: That he had devoted the wagons of the state to transporting the private property of Tories.

Sixth: That, contrary to law, he had given a pa.s.s to an unworthy person to go within the enemy's lines.

Seventh: That the Council had been met with a disrespectful refusal when they asked him to explain the subject-matter of the Fifth charge.

Eighth: That the patriotic authorities, both civil and military, were treated coldly and neglectfully, in a manner entirely different from his line of conduct towards the adherents of the king.

A further account of the Council meeting was then given wherein it was stated that a motion had been made to suspend General Arnold from all command during the time the inquiry was being made into these accusations, but it had been voted down. Congress was asked, the story went on, to decide on the value of these charges and to refer them to the proper tribunal, the necessary amount of evidence being promised at the proper time.

"The fools!" he muttered. "They think that these can hold water."

He continued to read, and holding the paper at a distance from him, gazed at it.

"What a shame! Every paper in the country will have this story before the week is out. I'm disgraced."

He fell back in his chair with his head propped up by his elbow. In his other hand, thrown across the arm of the chair, was held the paper. His brows were contracted, his eyes closed, his face flushed in indication of the tumult that surged within him. His mind was engaged in a long process of thought which began with his memories of his early campaigns and traced themselves down to the events of the present moment. There was no decision, no constancy of resolution, no determination; just worry, and apprehension, and solicitude, and the loud, rapid beatings of his temple against his hand.

"Suspend me! I'll forestall them, d.a.m.n 'em. I'll resign first."

He wondered where Anderson had gone or what fortune he had met with. The morning brought the first report of the disruption of the meeting and of the unknown person who had single-handed accomplished it. There must be a traitor somewhere, for no one save Anderson and himself had been initiated into the secret. Margaret knew, of course, but she could be trusted. Perhaps after all the man had escaped that night. Perhaps it was this very person who had created the furore at the meeting. Who was he? How did he get in? Why were proper steps not taken to safeguard the room against all possibilities of this nature? Bah! Anderson had bungled the thing from the start. He was a boy sent on a man's errand.

The regiment was defunct. To speculate further on that subject would be futile. It never had existed, as far as he could see, except on paper, and there it remained, a mere potentiality. The single-handed disruption of it proved how utterly deprived it was of cohesion and organization.

That one man, alone and in disguise, could have acquainted himself thoroughly with the whole proceeding, could have found his way with no attempt at interference into the meeting place, and with a few well-chosen words could have moved an entire audience to espouse the very contrary of their original purpose, indicated the stability and the temper of the a.s.sembly. To coerce men is a useless endeavor. Even the Almighty finds it well not to interfere with man's power of choice. They might be led or enticed or cajoled; but to force them, or intimidate them, or overwhelm them, is an idle and unavailing adventure.

Anderson had failed miserably and his conspiracy had perished with him.

Not a prominent Catholic had been reached in the first place; not a member of the poorest cla.s.s would now leave the city. The affair with its awful disclosures only added strength to their position, for whatever aspersions might have been cast upon their loyalty in the event of the successful deportation of the company, were now turned like a boomerang against the very ones who had engineered the scheme. The community would respect the Catholics more for the future. They were to profit by his undoing. They would be valued for the test that their patriotism had stood.

There was another consideration, however, which wore a graver complexion and tormented him beyond endurance. This was the solicitude for his own safety. The people had hated him for years and had proceeded to invent stories about him which might justify its anger. It had been a satisfaction for him to reflect that, for the most part, these stories had not been the causes, but rather the effects of public indignation.

But what answer could he make now, what apology could he offer for this late transaction, this conspiracy at once so evident and palpable? As far as the question of his guilt was concerned there would be little conjecture about that. Ten or twenty accounts of the venture, inconsistent with one another and with themselves, would be circulated simultaneously. Of that he had no doubt. People would neither know nor care about the evidence. It was enough that he had been implicated.

He would ask for a court-martial. That, of course. Through no other tribunal could a just and a satisfactory decision be reached, and it was paramount that another verdict besides that p.r.o.nounced by public opinion be obtained. Unquestionably, he would be acquitted. His past service, his influence, his character would prove themselves determining factors during his trial. Fully one-half of the charges were ridiculous and would be thrown out of court as incontestable, and of the remainder only one would find him technically culpable. Still it were better for a court to decide upon these matters, and to that end he decided to request a general court-martial.

III

"You have removed your uniform?" Peggy asked in surprise as she beheld him entering the doorway of the drawing-room.

"Yes," was the solemn reply. "I am no longer a confederate of France."

He limped slowly across the room, leaning on his cane. He had laid aside his buff and blue uniform, with the epaulets and sword knots, and was clad in a suit of silken black. His hose and shoes were of the same color, against which his blouse, cuffs and periwig were emphasized, a pale white.

"But you are still a Major-General," she corrected.

"I was; but am no longer. I have resigned."

She started at the announcement. Obviously she had not antic.i.p.ated this move.

"You have resigned? When?"

"I wrote the letter a short time ago. I precluded their designs."

He sat in his great chair, and, reaching for his stool, placed his foot upon it.

"But ... I ... I don't understand."

"I do perfectly. I shall be tried by court-martial, of course; they have moved already to suspend me pending the course of my trial. I want to antic.i.p.ate any such possibility, that is all."

"But you will be reinstated?"

"I don't know,--nor care," he added.

"And what about us, our home, our life here," she asked with a marked concern.

"Oh! That will go on. This is your house, remember, if it comes to the worst; you are mistress here. This is your home."

"If it comes to the worst? To what?"

"Well, if I should be found guilty ... and ... sentenced."

"I should not stay here a minute," she cried, stamping her foot. "Not one minute after the trial! In this town? With that element? Not for an hour!"