Francis WvanPraag CLAYTON HALOWELL Washington's Headquarters at Morristown, N. J. Frontispiece . Clayton H a I o w e 1 1 By Francis W. van Praag ILLUSTRATIONS BT fTINTHROP EARLE R. F. FENNO & COMPANY 9 and 1 1 East Sixteenth Street, New York COPYRIGHT, 1901 BT R. F. FENNO & COMPANY Oavton Halou/tll TO HELEN AND SALLY WITH THEIR BROTHER'S LOVE 2036323 Contents CHAPTER PAGE I. Wherein the Guests of the " Goat " hear ill news g II. Wherein Moths Flutter and a Flame Burns. 20 III. Wherein an Enemy is Made 37 IV. Wherein Figures a Piece of Paper 44 V. Wherein is Demonstrated the Use of a Window 59 VI. Wherein Halowell Pays a Call and Madam de Laurent Destroys a Letter 71 VII. Wherein Are Recorded Several Occur- rences 86 VIII. Wherein Madam Practices Diplomacy 109 IX. Wherein Fletcher Earns Fifty Guineas 124 X. Wherein is a Demonstration of that Which Fools Call Chance 141 XI. Wherein Halowell Meets a Masked Man. . 162 XII. Wherein Winslow Proves His Mettle and Halowell Has an Unpleasant Experience. 170 7 8 Contents CHAPTER PAGE XIII. Wherein Are Propounded Several Perti- nent Questions 192 XIV. Wherein Madam Plans 212 XV. Wherein Halowell Takes His Revenge. ... 235 XVI. Wherein a Man Struggles and is Victorious. 254 XVII. Wherein Joyce Leads a Forlorn Hope 275 XVIII. Wherein the End is Attained 289 CLAYTON HALOWELL CHAPTER I WHEREIN THE GUESTS AT THE " GOAT " HEAR ILL NEWS THE dusk of an April evening was descend- ing upon the busy, crowded earth. Whippany River was a thread of gold in the midst of am- ber-tipped slopes. The many rows of huts which scarred the hillsides adjacent to the river stood forth in the peculiar yellow promi- nence which is given to objects in the path of a dying sun. Tent and marquee, and the white mansion that overlooked the Newark Pike a quarter of a mile from Morristown Green, gave forth the comfortable glow of fire and lights, the aroma of stewing beef, and the more or less equivocal perfume of cabbage and beans. On the Pike itself were complex masses of human- ity surging, some toward the huts, some to- 9 io Clayton Halowell ward the village. Endless strings of white- topped wagons and rusty cannon lurched through the gloaming; orderlies galloped be- tween groups of ragged infantrymen and swore impartially at cannoneer, driver and pe- destrian ; cavalrymen in short jackets and huge helmets, and short jackets and small helmets; linen-frocked riflemen of Morgan's and other regiments; flat-capped, furtive-eyed rangers; tall, heavy troopers of His Excellency's Guard (whose tricolor plume and black half-gaiters marked for especial respect); officers wrapped to the chin, sternly impassive; pursey, red- faced contractors all the little world of the Continental army hurried home to supper and a pipe. "Faith! one would think supping consti- tutes the oyer and terminer of life," commented a bronzed, keen-eyed Major, in the blue-and- buff-and-white of the New York line. " The at- traction of the kettle outweighs the fascination of dice at five in the afternoon." The man's companion, a broad, suave civil- ian, spread out his hands and laughed. " What Guests Hear 111 News n would you? They have been digging at a nonsensical fort, or lounging at the tavern door since forenoon. It is natural the kettle should have an attraction. Damme ! " He broke off and peered down the road at a troop of horse, muddy and disheveled, which was straggling into view. " Damme ! But here are some who are thinking little of cookery, I'll swear." The Major's eye swept the passing stream of humanity and rested upon a column of men whose attire and mien bore, in no uncertain characters, the indications of rough work. Many of the men were lolling in their saddles, their feet either dangling from the stirrups or thrown across the pommel. Dirty rags band- aged two heads ; and a sergeant with an arm in a sling cursed loudly whenever a rut caused his tired mount to stumble. " Sink me if it isn't Allen's troop ! " ex- claimed the Major, and reined in, his brows knit, until the first man (who was prodding the roadbank with a captured Yager sword and damning all things an inch high) came abreast him. 12 Clayton Halowell "How did the raid come out, my man?" he asked. " As ill as the rankest Tory could wish," re- turned the fellow, " asking your pardon for saying so. * Beat up the British outposts ' were our orders. If running into a regiment of sauerkraut-eaters be doing the thing, why, we're victorious." " The biter bitten ? " suggested the Major's companion, softly. " Ay, the biter bitten ! " retorted the trooper. " But was it fair and square biting, I say ? Not it, or I'm a Dutchman ! There's that going on as keeps Clinton better posted on our doings than most of our own generals. Else how did he know where to expect us yesterday, and Freeman last month, and Sterling in January? Damned if I wouldn't like to lay hands on " The man's wrath choked him. Before he could recover, the cause of the explosion said smoothly, addressing himself to his compan- ion: "Did you ever notice, Mr. Halowell, how readily a defeated man cries ' treachery? ' Tis Guests Hear 111 News 13 a most singular peculiarity, but a universal one." Halowell frowned, and by an authoritative gesture compelled silence in the dozen troopers who had heard the words and crowded for- ward, eager to resent them. " "Tis a most singular peculiarity, Borden, that you should add to our bitterness by ill- timed pleasantry. You are not a soldier and cannot know the humiliation of defeat ; yet you can surely appreciate good taste and bad." Borden's broad face flushed. " Since when, sir, did I constitute you my censor ? " he began, and finished to the scowling raiders and the air. For, there having been no break in the trot with which the troop horses were seeking their stables, a long stone building, surrounded by a low wall and a press of horses, had grown out of the deepening dusk. A sign-board dis- playing the crude painting of an animal which could have been a bull, an elk, a goat, or any other creature endowed by nature with horns, topped a gate, beneath the arch of which was visible a front of cheerfully-lighted windows 14 Clayton Halowcll and a door through which came the sound of much hilarity, the clicking of cards, and the companionable clatter of ale-mugs. Halowell dismounted, returned the salutation of the hostler who took his horse, and sauntered to the wide-open door with the easy assurance which comes with familiarity of place and people. Be- fore him, beside him, on every hand, was a stream of arriving and departing guests, heavy- eyed serving-men, loose women, drunken team- sters, ferret-jawed professional cheats, all the unnamable riff-raff in fact, which eddies in and around a camp tavern. The Public was familiarly smoky as Halo- well descended the one step which led to its sanded floor. At the far end of the room was a counter above which was a second painting ( ?) more explicit than that which the gate boasted. This second prodigy allowed one to gather that the horned animal before remarked was the representation of a goat. Soldiers and bullies and blacklegs in all stages of sobriety and in- ebriety, and of all ranks and ages, worshipped at this Goat's shrine, lounging before the Guests Hear 111 News 15 scratched tables, dicing, drinking, and ogling the women more or less familiarly, according to the quantity of liquor imbibed. Halo well nodded to several of the devotees, rebuffed two of the women, and dropped into a chair beside a solitary figure at a table near the door. His deep " Evening, Dal ton ! " caused the man to turn a pale, heavily-lined face to the light and catch his nether lip in a nervous movement. The sight of the tanned, smiling guest, how- ever, banished the involuntary agitation. He settled back and pushed the bowl of rum toddy across the table. "Come from the house?" he asked, when Halowell had filled the glass an attendant placed before him. " Yes, and left Mistress Jocelyn about to plunge into the intricacies of pie-baking By the by, I met your contractor friend Borden at the head of the lane." Dalton set his mug down softly. " He was looking for me?" " Yes ; on his way to see if you were home. I left him bound for headquarters and hoping 1 6 Clayton Halowell you were at your usual task of delving amid sheaves of dispatches. He seemed anxious to see you." Without a word Dalton rose, threaded his way amid the tables and the sprawled feet of the loungers, and vanished through the door. " Blessed are the ties of friendship ! " Halo- well laughed. " Wonder if he owes the fellow money? It well, I've trouble enough of my own without conjuring imaginary ills for oth- ers. Here's to brown eyes." He raised his mug solemnly and drank. Scarcely had the toast been downed when a flurry in the crowd at the door announced a new and important arrival. The Major lay back in his chair, and presently a tall, thin light- horse trooper appeared and was greeted with cries of " What's the news, Jack ? " " Give us the latest ! " Though the tumult was highly flattering, "Jack" stood calmly in the doorway until Halowell's " Softly, gentlemen ! Fink has a thirst which must be washed away to fit his Allen's done for.' 1 Page 17. Guests Hear 111 News 17 throat for use. What shall it be, Fink? " sent him grinning to the Major's table. " Ale, Major, and thanks." " No thanks ; the act is purely selfish Ale, Hobbs, with plenty of head to it And now, out with the budget, man." Fink drained his mug and wiped his mouth deliberately. " The news to-day, gentlemen, is that Allen's done for and a plague on the business for a mystery." Halo well was the only man in the assem- blage who did not cry out surprise and incre- dulity at this information. " Positive fact," reiterated the courier. " Got it from Colonel Hamilton not twenty minutes back. ' Allen cut to pieces by a regi- ment of Dutchmen near Paulus Hook.' Gen- eral's mad as a Tory and the staff swears there's something crooked somewhere, which may or may not be true." As a flash of light illuminates objects which in a steady glow would pass unnoticed, so the until-then disregarded words of the cavalry sergeant returned to Halowell. When Fink 1 8 Clayton Halowell continued, warmed to garrulity by the ale of a second good Samaritan, " We know there's those as don't think twice in selling secrets, but Allen was kept dumb ; only the staff and coun- cil knew where he'd been ordered," he ceased to listen to the man further. There was an idea in his mind that required meditation. " Hm ! " He stroked his jaw. " Now that'll bear thought. Hobbs, the score. And tell Captain Manderson I'll give him his revenge to-morrow instead of to-night." " Not going so soon, sir ! " cried Hobbs, aghast. " A matter of importance, Hobbs." " But Mr. Cranford has matched his Ply- mouth against Mr. Bacon's Yorkshire and the main's to be in the shed at ten." Even this inducement had no effect upon Halowell's decision. And though more than once he was stopped in the short journey to the yard, the persuasion and raillery of which he was the recipient were as futile in altering his determination as had been Hobbs' argument. In the cool silence of the road his thoughts Guests Hear 111 News 19 had full play. The Ford House, the Guards' huts, and the outlying cantonments were passed before he ceased to center his gaze upon an in- visible point in space. " It would bring the star," he muttered. " And by God ! its worth trying. Treason, eh ? It'll be an ill wind if it blows me no good. You'll carry a general officer yet, Bucephalus, my lad; and if I knew just where to begin in a certain matter, the auspicious day would not be distant. But," his keen eyes contracted and his jaw became unpleasantly determined, " but we'll keep our eyes open, eh, lad? We'll just keep our eyes open. " CHAPTER II WHEREIN MOTHS FLUTTER AND A FLAME BURNS " BIEN ! Madam ees beautiful chic ! " Yvette stood off to admire her handiwork, and Madam's satisfied glance rested upon a face a delicate blending of white and pink and red, a straight nose and pearly teeth ; and upon a form a wonderful series of curves, blue satin and French lace. " Straighten the feather, Yvette." The ornament was duly rearranged and Yvette again enraptured. " Ah, Madam, eet ees good once more to see ze fashion," she asserted. " Ze fright of gown I see on ze road. Madam Washington " " Yvette, stop chattering ; and hand me my fan. What is the time?" " Half past free, Madam." A wrinkle drew the ends of Madam's arched Moths Flutter and Flame Burns 21 brows together. Reading a danger signal, Yvette turne<^iastily away and busied herself with the gown her mistress had discarded. Then the clatter of a horse sounded from be- low; and when Madam ran to the window the maid breathed as if a crisis had passed. But as a matter of fact the crisis had come, for, upon reaching the window, Madam's eagerness changed to disappointment and she tugged so fiercely at a ribbon knot on her cor- sage that the threads thereof broke. " Is that your sewing, lache! " she cried, and dealt the maid a resounding slap. " Must I stand forever over you if I wish my work more than half done? " The woman's lack of resentment was evi- dence that she was accustomed to being thus made the safety-valve of her mistress' temper. And while the blow itself occasioned no sur- prise, its weight drew the tears. " Stop sniveling ! " ordered Madam. " And hand me the roses ! " And crushing a number of the early buds from very wantonness of cruelty, the woman swept from the room, very 22 Clayton Halowell beautiful in her ruffled gown and her pas- sion. There was enough of anger visible, when Madam had descended a broad stair and en- tered the reception parlor, to accentuate her gorgeous beauty and cause two beardless and mutually jealous officers, and a perspiring old- ish man in the throes of tight boots and senile adoration, to jostle for the honor of the first greeting. A smile, a glance, a pressure of white fingers made each visitor glow; the in- undation of a veritable stream of new arrivals cleared away the last trace of the hostess' burst of temper. She became Hospitality incarnate a beautiful, breathing, radiant Hospitality that was marred by no peep of Devil or Temper. Each guest was the recipient of a smile, a kiss, or a flash of wit, and each gravitated to his or her especial set, firm in the conviction that he or she had received a special welcome. Tact is truly a feminine necessity, and the possession of it was demonstrated in the enter- tainment Madam had provided. That a stu- dent of human nature was catering to interests Moths Flutter and Flame Burns 23 and individuals as diverse as the poles, was ob- vious. For the lover of nature, the terrace had been enclosed with glass that the view of the snug Whippany valley might be enjoyed in defiance of the weather's inclemency. For the lover of maid, nooks had been contrived and hidden ingeniously by palms, screens and hangings. To those whose tastes strayed to Bacchus, a buffet laden with the choicest vint- ages of France and Spain and Holland was provided. Cards were to be found in a per- fectly appointed room set apart for the purpose. In fact, no one was forgotten or overlooked, and as a consequence all Morristown and the camp flocked to do homage to Beauty and re- gale Self. The card room and terrace were on the road to that state of social purgatory wherein one can with difficulty join a friend across the room or raise a glass, when a stir announced a be- lated guest. A broad man, heavy of jaw and sullen of brow, limped forward, escorting a beautiful young woman. Madam advanced to meet the new comers, smilingly acknowledging 24 Clayton Halowell the man's somewhat unpolished bow, and warmly returning his companion's kiss. " I had almost lost faith in humanity," she cried gaily. " What sweet lace on the panniers, Margaret. Blue becomes you so well, dear. Now tell me instantly why you are so late at this, my fortnightly Event." " Saddle horses, my dear Olive, are not the most reliable means of locomotion when hitched to a chariot. I'm rather surprised we succeeded in reaching you at all." " Why risk yourselves behind such beasts ? " " It was that or walk." " Dear, dear ! Do you mean to say, Mr. Ar- nold," turning to the man with a flattering in- terest that made him flush, despite the fact that he was newly married to the beautiful Miss Shippen of Philadelphia, " Do you mean to say that Congress has not passed your claims? " General Arnold's brows and mouth con- tracted. "That's not the worst of it. If they are passed at all I'll owe no thanks to His Excel- lency, nor do I fear to say it." Moths Flutter and Flame Burns 25 " It looks like a deliberate attack," said Olive, sighing. " Jealousy sours the best of tempers, I suppose." '' 'Tis what I say over and over," Mrs. Arnold interposed. " Congress may reprimand and General Washington " " There, there, Peggy ! I'm the only one privileged to talk treason," interrupted Arnold. " Besides, we may be wrong. If it wasn't for this confounded leg of mine I'd " " Win fresh laurels and give a country lib- erty for its black ingratitude." Olive's eyes sparkled and her cheeks flushed. " Everyone knows the fact the very teamsters and drum- mers know it. No attacks of petty spite can wipe away the fame of the victor of Bemis Heights. Congress, the army, His Excellency himself" " Hush, Madam de Laurent, hush, for Heaven's sake ! " exclaimed Arnold. This al- lusion to his wrongs was too strong for him to be sure of his strength. " My sword will always be at my country's service, I trust," he contin- ued stiffly, " even though I be maltreated by its 16 Clayton Halowell misrulers. There is Doctor Rush, Peggy; I'll speak to him now about those last liniments. Ah, Mr. Henry, good day, sir. Are the talk- ing days nearly over ? We are getting tired of doing nothing but starve and have chills. Come, dear." And the general and his wife moved away. Like all assured beauties Olive possessed a court constantly and assiduously attentive to her slightest wish, and jealously anxious for her slightest favor. Arnold's presence had caused its partial disintegration, and before it could reassemble it was collectively and sever- ally rebuffed by the appearance of a slender man clad in the scarlet and blue of the artillery. "Faith! I thought Mr. Benedict would never go," said the new comer. " And it being scarcely etiquette for a Lieutenant-Colonel to request a Major-General to move on, I perforce ate my heart in silence." " Fie ! Mr. Hamilton ! That there should be a heart to eat. I had flattered myself there was none that that much abused parody was entirely in my possession. And to be sensible Moths Flutter and Flame Burns 27 How are His Excellency and Madam Wash- ington ? " " Madam will be here soon, I expect, but the General was deep in a roll of fresh dispatches when I left, so I doubt if he will enjoy the light" " Nay, stop ! Am I not sufficiently vain ? Why, only a half hour since I was staring my- self out of countenance in my mirror, wonder- ing but there, I'll not expose the workings of the feminine soul. I hope there will be noth- ing to worry His Excellency in the dispatches. He appeared ill on Sunday, I thought." The colonel's countenance was cleared of all its gaiety when he answered, " I fear there will be worriment. Things are going badly in the south and we are scarcely strong enough to spare reinforcements. The General takes the blows without a murmur. But they hurt." " Would that others were like him," said Madam softly, to which sentiment Hamilton affixed a fervent " Amen ! " before taking pity on the evident wretchedness of the court and strolling away to the terrace. 28 Clayton Halowell With Hamilton's departure Olive expe- rienced one of the discomforts of royalty. With small heart for frivolity, and a question, " Why doesn't he come? " burning into her heart, she was obliged to mask disquietude beneath laugh- ter, and bury a something which strained her very soul at the sound of each late hoof and wheel, beneath repartee. " I have accomplished this ! " she whispered, half fiercely, and surveyed the crowded rooms. "Why should I care?" If social success were the panacea of re- pressed longing Madam would indeed have been the happiest of mortals. For every space in the long, brilliant parlors boasted its knot of guests. Baron Steuben, Inspector-General of the army, was discussing with M. de Gonvion, Chief of Engineers, the probability of Lincoln holding Charleston against Clinton. General Kosciusko was in deep dispute with General Muhlenberg and a graceful, elegantly dressed gentleman whom he called " Chevalier," and who was none other than de Luzerne, the French ambassador. General Arnold was ex- Moths Flutter and Flame Burns 29 plaining the variations of his wound to Dr. Rush. General Wayne, slender and bold, was laughing with a bevy of girls in a win- dow-embrasure. St. Clair, Stirling, and Put- nam were at the buffet, sampling all the drinkables from Port to Hollands. From the card room came the rattle of the loo and picquet players; through the long French windows came the tinkle of girlish, and the heavy bass of masculine, laughter. Fans waved and eyes flashed and black servants in brilliant liveries threaded the moving throng, bearing salvers of wine or confectionery. All was mirth and flirtation and relaxation. What if many of the guests did bear marks on dress or countenance of privation and suf- fering? What if many a frill were darned, and many a boot patched, and many a cheek hol- low ! Notwithstanding the shabbiness of faded uniforms, these were the cream of the young Republic and it had taken only five months to accomplish their subjection. Madam sighed and, as the court redoubled their attentions, re- signed herself to the inevitable. Members of 30 Clayton Halowell Congress in sober browns and grays reached over blue and buff and gold shoulders to offer her ices; generals with faces as battered and tarnished as their epaulettes, imagined them- selves young again and made her pretty speeches; youthful militia officers in gorgeous uniforms and radiant smiles were eager to do her errands, and congratulated themselves upon having attained a fascinating age when favored with a smile. All who came were allowed to add their servitude to that of the general mass, and to discuss themselves and their plans to an attentive, sympathetic listener. As a natural result the listener was smothered with atten- tions and regaled with gossip, plans, rumors and politics. In the midst of a discussion on the advisabil- ity of a new issue of gaper currency (in which Governor Livingston and a Member from North Carolina were the principals, and Madam de Laurent, the judge to whom both contestants frequently appealed) the latter mo- mentarily lost interest. The cause of the phe- nomenon was nothing more important than the Moths Flutter and Flame Burns 31 entrance of a tall Major of the New York line. But when the man finally laughed his way through the bevy of girls which surrounded him, and came down the room, a strong-limbed, strong-jawed, bronzed son of Mars, Madam's manner betrayed distinct indifference for all but the late guest. " The moth is come," Halowell announced, accepting the invitation contained in the gath- ering of his hostess' skirts. The court, not one of whom had been so honored, melted in- continently in wrath and vexation of spirit. " To find the flame alive," Olive replied, with a gesture which embraced the crowded rooms. " The flame burns until it is snuffed or sets something afire. Have you been back from Philadelphia long?" " About a week." " Really ! " two deep blue eyes flashed above an arc of painted gauze. " About a week ? I supposed you had just returned." " I have so much to do, you see recruits coming in; and drill and see here, Olive, why can't you be civil to a fellow ? " 32 Clayton Halowell " I was wholly unaware of having been any- thing but civil," Olive replied, and smoothed a lace ruffle reflectively. " It's five months, isn't it, since Fate and my balky mare threw me into your path ? Who would have thought the con- sequences of an accident could be so far-reach- ing? A carbine volley, an attempt of a fright- ened groom to catch the bridle of a frightened horse and I foolishly slide through the ice into the Whippany and you as foolishly fish me out. And then daily rides to the ' Two Doves ', and lunches beneath the honeysuckle. You see I'm in a reminiscent mood to- day." " I'm wondering what it means." " Are you ? " With a shrug of her shoulders (very white, dimpled shoulders), Olive looked into her companion's face. " Tell me, Clayton, was the conquest easy as easy as mine, for in- stance? Comparisons are odious, I admit, but womanly curiosity to learn about a rival " (Hal- owell winced at the word and Olive laughed) " must be gratified. How many afternoons of the month you passed in Philadelphia and of Moths Flutter and Flame Burns 33 this week in Morristown have you spent in the company of the new charmer? " For an instant Clayton's eyes were as black as his companion's were smiling. By an im- mense effort he mastered his temper. " You ask so many questions, Olive, that one lone man cannot possibly answer them all." " Then begin with the last." " I believe I have forgotten even the last." There was that in Halowell's voice that warned Olive the ground was dangerous. But she ac- cepted the challenge. " * How often had you seen the lady Mistress Jocelyn Dalton during the past weeks/ was the question." " Oh, a dozen times, perhaps." Crack went a stick in the fan. " That's a lie," whispered Olive. To the scores of jealous eyes fastened upon her it seemed that she was relating some funny inci- dent and repressing the attendant laugh. " That's a lie, I say ! In Philadelphia you called upon her every afternoon, while here a word from me to her brother would " 34 Clayton Halowell Halowell gravely looked into his companion's eyes. " But you are much too sensible to say that word, Olive. Why should we quarrel? Our winter has been enjoyable; you were amused, and so was I. It is spring now; and while I can't quite see your right to demand an account of my doings, we are both sensible enough to know that our friendship can't go on forever. You would wake up some day with a scandal over your head, and I with a black look from His Excellency to face. We are both imperiling our chances of advancement, you see, and so acting foolishly." " Is that the reason you are are deserting me?" The question, which was a practical admission, cost Madam an effort and caused Halowell to glance at her oddly. " You are one of two things, Olive jealous or curious. As I can't believe you would honor me by being the former, I am forced to take the latter as the motive of your questions. And surely curiosity " " Is, has been, and always will be, woman's prerogative," interrupted a gay voice which Moths Flutter and Flame Burns 35 caused both conversationalists to start, and one to flush with every indication of pleasure. A girl was bending over the back of the divan, and if ever Madam's antithesis existed it was this interloper. Madam was tall and queenly, the girl was slender and petite; Madam's eyes were royal purple, the antithesis were velvet brown; Madam's nose was Grecian, the other's was retrouse; Madam's mouth was that of a Venus or a Chloe, the intruder's was that of a mischievous Raphael angel or Madonna. Hal- owell, making the mental comparison, strayed longer to the less beautiful face. Madam, no- ticing the fact, rose abruptly. The girl expressed quick contrition. " Don't say I disturbed you. I'm looking for George and I couldn't resist interrupting. I never can resist doing the wrong thing." Madam laughed. " 'Twas not the wrong thing, Mistress Dalton. For here is one who longs to help you hunt for George and not find him." " I foresee the ending of our friendship, Mr. Halowell," the girl cried gaily. " Madam de 36 Clayton Halowell Laurent, if you hear reports of Mr. Halowell's scandalous attendance upon me, be sure to know that I am discouraging them mightily. Yes, George may be in the card-room, or on the terrace " " Or in the garden," suggested Clayton, of- fering his arm. " Or in the garden," assented the unblush- ing angel. And as the twain moved toward the door Olive sent the re-assembled court into convul- sions at her observations upon General Clin- ton's latest broadside from the south, and her comments upon the gowns she had noticed at the previous Assembly. CHAPTER III WHEREIN AN ENEMY IS MADE A QUARTER of a mile west of headquarters Clayton extricated himself from a precarious position between a broken battery wagon and a group of children gaping at a troop at drill in the pasture near the Guard's hut, and turned into a steep lane which ambled from the New- ark Pike to the Whippany and only reached the river after many aimless twists and abrupt curves. In the bend of the last of these twists, as peaceful as a buffer of one hundred rods of thick timber and a roll of steep hill could make it, nestled a tiny, vine-covered cottage. A patch of lawn sloped from the rear porch to a line of willows on the river bank ; and a flagged walk started at a hitching-post in the road and led between two syringa bushes to three low wooden steps and a green door. Halowell had fastened his horse to the hitching-post, trav- 37 38 Clayton Halowell ersed the flagged walk, and was beating a sub- dued rat-a-tat upon the door before a man could conveniently have counted ten. And before a man could conveniently have counted ten more a slender young lady was holding back the door. Indeed, there was a promptness about the opening of the door which, to a suspicious mind, might have con- veyed the idea that the young lady had been watching for her visitor. " I almost fear to ask permission to enter/' said the Major. " There's such a thing as wearing out one's welcome, you know." " I do not know. If you have come for George, prepare for a disappointment. He has gone to Hanover " " Do I usually come arrayed in my dress uniform to see George ? " interrupted Clayton severely, and followed his hostess into a room opening off the hall. In size the apartment was extremely limited; in coziness it was palatial. The furniture was covered with flowered cre- tonne ; there was a multitude of early blossoms on the spinnet, the center table, and the mantel. 'Shall I tell all, Oh, Potent Divinity?" Page 39. An Enemy is Made 39 Two windows looked out upon the shady lane. And a huge bow-window which was a perfect garden of geraniums and purple petunias, looked toward the river. Mistress Dalton seated herself in this latter bower and her guest drew forward a chair. Far down the valley were the untidy huts of the cantonments; be- yond was a cavalry vidette crawling up Horse Hill. Clayton wondered why there were such things as armies and videttes when one could be utterly happy and peaceful without them. " Now tell me all the news," commenced Mistress Dalton, producing a book of silks and an embroidery frame from some mysterious re- cess in the window-box. " Where have you been and what have you been doing since yes- terday?" " Shall I tell all, oh, Potent Divinity? " ! " All ; nothing must be omitted." " Then let me see after Madam de Laur- ent's I went to the Goat and won three guin- eas (shilling a throw) which I promptly lost to Manderson of the Tenth New Jersey on my bird. This morning I drilled and was on duty 40 Clayton Halowell at headquarters. After mess, home I went to don my most fascinating attire that a certain Mistress Jocelyn Dalton, spinster, might be duly impressed with my numerous charms." " Mistress Dalton is deeply honored at being the cause of so flattering a thought. But how is it that George hasn't time to go to the Goat ? And why should he be so busy when everyone else has time to waste? " " Well, you know, fellows on the staff have to work harder than we on the line do." " Then it's not fair," asserted Joyce, and pulled a ravel viciously, as if it were the foun- tain head of the law she objected to. " I de- clare, when I was with Aunt Mary in Phila- delphia I saw more of George than I do now. What did I come here for if not to keep house for him? And when he's always away, where is the sense of keeping house at all ? " " Because a fellow is on the staff and can't call his time his own, is it reasonable he should be deprived of the comforts of a home? I might further add, in all humility, that one's friends should count as well as one's brother." An Enemy is Made 41 Joyce looked up and laughed. " They do a little. But when a girl has an exceptional brother she must hunt far for a friend on his plane." " I suppose so," asserted Clayton dutifully, and changed the subject and inquired about Aunt Mary and the Philadelphia household, admired the new petal of the embroidery, and, when the shadows drew their veil across the sun and blurred the work, proposed a song. The spinnet was consequently opened; and to the accompaniment of the thin, sweet strains Joyce sang of summer skies and laughing waters. Often her companion smiled at the loud amazement his occupation would have ex- cited in his comrades of the Goat. They would have wondered, with many oaths, if this Clay- ton Halowell, turning music pages in response to a vigorous " Now ! " was the Clayton Halo- well whom they knew and drank with. As, however, Halowell wondered on the same score, it is doubtful if he could have enlightened his friends. Joyce was holding a high note and clutching 42 Clayton Halowell for a particularly complicated chord when the knocker sounded. In an instant notes and keys were forgotten. With a cry, " Perhaps it's George ! " she flew into the hall. The desertion caused Halowell to remember that the mess hour was near and that a soldier has duties other than basking in the smiles of a pretty maid. . With a lingering look at the flower- bright little room, at the spinnet and it's tum- bled heap of music, and the embroidery on the window-seat, he walked toward the door. Be- fore he could reach it a dialogue in the hall petrified him. " George is not home, Mr. Borden." " Then I'll wait." The answering voice was thick and unsteady. " Then I'll wait, pet." "Mr. Borden!" " No, no, dear ! Harry. Harry I am to m' friends, and Harry I'll be to " A stifled cry raised the embargo on Halo- well's muscles. He reached the door in time to see Joyce writhing in Borden's grasp ; and he reached the struggling forms in time to whirl the man around and shake him until his broad, An Enemy is Made 43 heavy face was purple. Then he flung the con- tractor into the garden, closed the door, and turned to the weeping girl. " Has he ever come before in that that con- dition ? " he asked, his voice strangely hoarse. " Yes, once." " And your brother " " But he never did this before." " And he never will again. He may sell oats a cent cheaper than the others of his kind, but George shall know of his peculiarity, or I'll be struck dumb ! " Joyce dried her eyes. " You must not tell George, Mr. Halowell, it would annoy him so. And Mr. Borden has to come every day about the fodder. If I thought I were inter- fering with George's business I I would never forgive myself. Indeed I would not." " But Mistress Dalton " " I'll stay out of his way when he comes hereafter. And won't you stay to choco- late?" CHAPTER IV WHEREIN FIGURES A PIECE OF PAPER " YOU'RE a fool ! " Halowell nodded with conviction at the keen brown face reflected in the triangle of looking-glass which adorned the north wall of his hut. " You're a most damnably stupid fool, Clayton, my man. You're playing with fire, neglecting old friends, and allowing to slip a golden opportunity of advancement in your chosen profession. And it's all for the pleasure of chasing a butterfly." With which announcement the Major washed the lather from his face, dispatched his orderly to the stable with strict injunctions to groom Bucephalus with extra care, and turned to the serious business of dressing. In their sequence, coat, belt, gauntlets and chapeau were scruti- nized in a vast and minute hunt for possible dirt or rust; and when finally he had passed upon the articles and arrayed himself therewith, A Piece of Paper Figures 45 and swung into the saddle, he was pleasantly aware that he was as sleekly-groomed as the horse which was saying much, for Major Halowell's word was idolized law in Major Halowell's battalion. It was three o'clock in the afternoon and a beautiful day. The sky was cloudless and the sun painting the shadows of the budding trees in rich purple tints upon the sward. Recent rains had brought the spring green into the fields and upon the multitude of trees which stretched in vast waves down the valley. Farm and tent and hut clothed the slopes and mead- ows. Many forms peopled the roads, and Hal- owell's back was a constant curve of bows from the moment he turned into the Newark Pike until he reached the head of the steep lane which led to Paradise. He was turning at this point, a glow of an- ticipation tingling through his heart, and the world seeming very bright, when Madam de Laurent cantered past, a vision of brown plumes and velvet, a court, as usual, close at her side. Major Halo well made a humble salute 46 Clayton Halowell and was rewarded by a slight (a very slight) inclination of the beautiful head. The cut was so patent and so public that it pulled him up sharp. Then he shrugged his shoulders and nullified the effect of the careless gesture by spurring down the lane with quite unnecessary viciousness. His vanity was still smarting when he ar- rived at the cottage. While he rattled the knocker and waited for the call to be answered, he thought ruefully of the days when he had been the envied cavalier to ride at Olive's side and reap her smiles. In throwing away sub- stance for shadow he had but here Joyce opened the door; and what Major Halowell had or had not done must remain forever his own secret. He noticed, with truly preternatural keen- ness that the girl was unusually radiant and wore an unfamiliar dress one cut low at the neck and smothered with ribbons and ruffles and draperies. She reminded him of one of the shep- herdesses which decorated Madam de Laurent's salon, minus the simper with which those crea- A Piece of Paper Figures 47 tures were bedecked, and he almost forgot the substance in the sight of the shadow. " Am I then, an ogre ? " Joyce laughed, and Halowell was suddenly conscious that he was staring. " You had best enter or my death will be upon your head." " Heaven forefend ! " "George, as usual, is away; Mr. Borden carried him off directly after dinner. But I've a" The words were lost to the visitor, for, near the flowered bay window, in his chair, sat a man a cornet a mere subaltern. A blue coat and buff waistcoat showed this interloper's trim, boyish figure to great advantage. He arose as the new guest advanced, and in the stream of mellow afternoon light which flooded through the window stood a slender, graceful, curly-headed soldier. Clayton gave one look at the handsome face and Joyce's softly bril- liant eyes, and forgot Olive and his wounded vanity. With the girl's, " Mr. Halowell, this is Mr. Winslow," hammering in his brain, in his ears, in his heart, he rebuffed the youth's at- 48 Clayton Halowell tempt to shake his hand by a stiff bow. In his heart he would have found a savage pleasure in trampling this stripling's face into the mud of the regimental sink. A hatred, quite foreign to the careless good-nature which was his usual state, took forcible possession of his soul, and darkened the sunlight and clouded the rippling river and the many-tinted world that peeped in through the round window. " Mr. Winslow and I used to play together : and it's four five years since I saw him last," Joyce was saying when Halowell's faculties be- came normal. " George told me he had a com- mission and was in Morristown. But he's been here two days and never called." " I " began Winslow, when a stern ges- ture from his hostess silenced him. " No excuses : facts are plain and easily read. You've been here two zvhole days. That's enough to convict anyone. Is it not, Mr. Hal- owell ? " If Clayton had been better acquainted with women (the creatures who followed the army and those found in the public inns not being A Piece of Paper Figures 49 entitled to the sacred name), he must have known that cause for jealousy did not exist. A woman does not declaim to the world, nor to the man she loves, the supreme happiness of her life. But he, through ignorance, accepted smiles and pretty pouts as evidence conclusive of the presence of love. Until that moment he had doubted that he actually loved Jocelyn. The appearance of this rival swept the doubts clear of his heart. He had played with fire and was like to be burned. He said, " You must be glad indeed to see an old playfellow," and bent over the spinnet to hide his face. " It's like a sight of short frocks and pig-tails and dirty hands and mud pies to see him," de- clared Joyce. " Remember what beautiful pies I used to make on the flat rock in the brook, Dick, and how you pushed me in once " And your father caned me and I threat ened to get ' even ' when I was a man ? " " And the time you baptized me in the rah; barrel and caught croup and nearly died ? " " And you rode Gillie and were caught ? " " I should say I was caught and scolded 50 Clayton Halowell and bread-and-watered and sixth-chapter-St. Luked for a week ! It w as scandalous, though, you know, riding a Shetland pony in broad light." And so it went. When one dropped the ball the other took it up and tossed it back freighted with the recollection of some escapade more absurd than the former. And all the while Halowell sat in his strange chair with murder in his heart and a smile on his lips. Joyce's voice was a continuous ripple of laughter the gay, sweet sounds he had grown to consider his own. At length, long before the reunited playmates had exhausted their store of anec- dotes, he found he could trust himself no further. No, he could not stay for chocolate; he was expected at the Goat. He made his adieux, climbed into the saddle, and without a backward look at the peaceful, sun-bathed cot- tage, and the puzzled little face gazing after him from the door, galloped away. Bucephalus, maddened by an unaccustomed spur, dashed down the lane. The throng on the highway parted hastily to give the strain- A Piece of Paper Figures 51 ing nag and the white-faced rider the right of way. Many heads turned wonderingly, and not a few men called for the news which must be of importance to send a man flying at breakneck pace over April roads. Had the French fleet been sighted? Was the army to move at last? Had Charleston been re- lieved? Was there . But the questions fell upon a deaf ear. Sphir.x-like and rigid Halo- well swept past Headquarters, into the village and out of it again, and into the comparative desertion of the Elizabeth road? The sound of his hoofs drew yelps from every passing dog, and curses from the pedestrians who were not agile enough to escape the muddy showers the flying hoofs scattered; patrols, respecting the uniform, pulled up and saluted; pickets left their fires and kettles to crowd along the road and cheer at what, neither they, nor anyone else could tell, except that there is something in- spiriting in the sight of a mad brute and a per- fect seat; and women called shrilly from win- dows to know if the Hessians were coming, and men bawled the same question from the fields. 52 Clayton Halowell Past them all, with never a look, sped Halowell, into the open country, and the wind and the darkness away from the pretty, slender boy and the merry, dimpling maid ! To Hell itself, so that forgetfulness could be gained. The gasps of his foundering horse finally warned him that the limit of brute endurance had been reached. He pulled up with a savage jerk, furious with the desire to harm, to curse. How dare this boy come between him and his love ! How dare he ! And then, treading on the heels of the first violence of jealous pain came that desire for comfort and companionship which leads so often and so easily to broken hearts and the divorce courts. A man's wife is nagging or tactless or slovenly, and, though the man may love the woman, the instinct that craves for sympathy and a confidante springs into exist- ence, too strong to be resisted. To Halowell the emptiness of the world was as vastly ap- parent as it has been to every disappointed lover. The thought of returning to his soli- tary quarters was repugnant ; the Goat, with its A Piece of Paper Figures 53 smoke and rattle and laughter was even more jarring. He pitied himself and desired pity. Respectability was a sham; he would cast it aside ! His old life was open to him ; he would beg Olive de Laurent's forgiveness for his transient falling away and be gay with the old gaiety. There was a rustic gate in Madam de Lau- rent's stable-wall which, not so many weeks before, had been even more familiar to Major Halowell than was the grassy lane which had of late daily led him to the quiet cottage on the river bank. At the end of an hour's ride he pushed through this gate and tethered his exhausted horse to a nearby tree. The path through the kitchen garden led straight to the south end of the rosery and to a door almost hidden in an angle of the wall. Halowell pro- duced a key, shot the bolt, and stepped into a narrow corridor. Blackness confronted him, but with a confidence auguring a strange famil- iarity of the place, he strode forward. A vel- vet curtain blocked the end of the passage. Upon his brushing the hanging aside, Madam's 54 Clayton Halowell wainscoted, berugged hall appeared. A lighted candelabra on the table near the door enabled him to noiselessly cross to, and ascend, the stairs. At the head of the flight a carpeted passage, cut on one side by high windows and on the other by numerous doors of carved walnut, extended into the heart of the building. Hal- owell crept to one of the doors and crooked his finger to knock. Before, however, flesh and wood could col- lide, a stealthy click, as of a boot-heel on a bare floor, changed the tenor of the intruder's thoughts. A tiny jingling of spurs following the harsher sound caused him to smile grimly. So this second midnight visitor was not a thief, but a rival ! As if by a magic potion his heart was cleansed of its desire for consolation. At the same time, his position was anything but enviable, and there being no way out of the cor- ridor other than that by which he had entered it, he sprang to the nearest window and buried himself in the folds of the hanging. That he would never again be principal in a like ex- A Piece of Paper Figures 55 patience was the theme of a very heartfelt prayer. The newcomer must have possessed an ex- ceptionally keen sense of hearing, for his steps ceased with Halowell's maneuver. Presently he restarted; and though he stopped at the creak of every joist the man himself finally came into view. He was muffled in a cloak which concealed his figure as effectually as a wide traveling hat, pulled over his forehead, masked his features. A naked sword, which flashed to guard at the slightest pretext, pro- claimed the man's caution. Once (as he was passing a chair near Halowell's hiding place) a piece of plaster fell in the walls and in a twink- ling he was stabbing at the blackness beneath the seat. An instant later he came to his senses; and with a shame-faced curse desisted and crept on his mysterious way. As he brushed past Halowell felt a whimsical desire to pull off that mask-like hat and learn who it was who had supplanted him. The feat could have been accomplished by the mere stretching forth of an arm; and all that saved the man 56 Clayton Halowell was the fact that his sword and spurs were of regulation military pattern. A sense of the fitness of things held Halowell's hand. The man passed on to Olive's door. Thus do we lightly spurn opportunities which Providence, in divine forethought, places in our direct path. It was only a long step from Halowell's hiding-place to the door before which the stranger stood. When the man's knock was answered, the fact that he was not Madam's only guest came as rather a shock to the un- willing, though not uninterested, watcher. He could see into the room. And what he saw was a long table drawn into one corner of a cosy boudoir, and a heavy man sitting before the table reading from a roll of tissue paper. This second man nodded to the newcomer without looking up, like a person absorbed in his work. Then the heavy walnut swung noiselessly, a bolt scraped, and Halowell disengaged himself from his curtain and wondered why Olive should entertain Mr. Henry Borden and the stranger at such an hour. Nature and his mil- The lind was a lawful prize, and Halowell carried it to the window. Page 57. A Piece of Paper Figures 57 itary training had made him both inquisitive and suspicious. He was half resolved to stay and see the adventure through. A faint no- tion of honor, however, and a stronger realiza- tion of the discomforts of early drill following a sleepless night turned his face down the hall toward the stairs. As he passed the chair which had been the cause of the stranger's display of swordsman- ship, a spot of white glimmering in the dark- ness of the cushions arrested his attention. Mechanically, he stooped and picked up a tiny square of folded tissue paper. The find was a lawful prize, and Halowell carried it to the window. In the upper corner was the rough drawing of a compass ; in the lower was a column of figures ; in the space between these figures was a series of lines and dots and crosses which had the appearance of random memo- randa. Something, however, in the arrange- ment of these latter hieroglyphics struck the Major as being familiar. He looked closer, made a mental comparison, and then ripped out an oath more expressive than respectable. 58 Clayton Halowell For in a flash he realized that he was in pos- session of a hastily drawn but marvelously de- tailed map of the American lines from the Hudson to Princeton. CHAPTER V WHEREIN IS DEMONSTRATED THE USE OF A WINDOW AFTER his first surprise Halowell stood in a brown study, twirling his prize between his fingers. The mere fact of possessing a map of the lines was not necessarily proof of wicked intent; yet it was sufficiently unusual to cause thought and a train of ideas bearing on the almost unbroken record of disasters which had culminated in the destruction of Allen's com- mand and the treachery rumors. As has been said, Halowell was both suspicious and inquisi- tive, but he was finally forced to reject the vague connection between the before-mentioned disasters and the possession of the paper. " Absurd ! " he muttered. " Impossible ! " and stared at the map as if in hope of deriving information from its bewildering array of char- acters. " I'd be barking up the wrong tree if 59 6o Clayton Halowell I got that notion in my head. But " he glanced toward the door through which the stranger had passed, and then at the map, and again at the door " I'll have a look just for regularity." The " look," however, produced no result other than the unsatisfactory discovery that something (presumably a hat) had been hung over the keyhole. And the walnut paneling being sufficiently thick to cut the conversation on the further side into disconnected fragments, the peeper should, by all the laws of humanity, have been properly discouraged from further investigation. Unfortunately, in the distribu- tion of Nature's gifts, Clayton Halowell had been bestowed with a vast amount of determi- nation perhaps to the omission of certain of the other gifts. The determination now stretched him flat on the floor, and the omis- sion of the certain other gifts set his ears hard to the crack above the threshold. When he arose from the undignified position his coun- tenance betrayed the most intense amazement and rage. Use of a Window Demonstrated 61 " Who'd have suspected ! " he muttered. " I'll find out who the third one is. With that little item of information " His thin nostrils dilated and his eyes blazed with a rather cruel triumph. " With that little item of informa- tion it will be nothing short of a miracle if my star does not bud." To descend the corridor and the stairs, and regain the hidden door in the rosery wall was the work of very few seconds to Halowell. But here he paused. There might be sentinels where he was going ; and his pistols were in the holsters of his saddle, the long length of the rosery and the kitchen garden from his hands. Should he could he spare the time and get the weapons. He calculated rapidly, decided in the negative, and consigning the fire-arms to the care of His Satanic Majesty, and any pos- sible watcher to the wrath of the same gen- tleman, stepped into the open air. The dark, rustling trees which encroached upon the very eaves of the house offered fine cover for a sentinel and Halowell unsheathed his sword by way of preparing for the worst. 62 Clayton Halowell The thought of turning back, however, never so much as entered his head. In the first place, the affair was an adventure; in the second, it was rich in the prospect of reward. And what twain could be more of a spur to a man ? Halowell had never before realized how large Madam de Laurent's house was, nor how numerous were the box hedges (calf high and easily tumbled over) which ranged themselves in numberless geometric pitfalls along the walls. No sooner would he escape one of these hurdles when another would make itself un- pleasantly apparent. Yet, as in the nature of things, even box hedges have an end. And the sight of a parallelogram of light in the win- dow of what he knew to be Olive's boudoir, partially repaid the bruises on his shins and the ruin of his uniform. And what ills the light did not salve, the magnificent Wisteria garland- ing the wall in which the light shone, did. The vine was not invitingly secure as a specta- cle but Halowell went up its main stem hand over hand in most approved marine style. Below the lighted window he slackened his Use of a Window Demonstrated 63 pace to a cautious wriggle and brought his eyes level with the sill. To all intents and purposes the room was deserted, for the table was drawn into a corner out of range of the window. Having satisfied himself that to hang on slip- pery stone many feet above the ground was, under the circumstances, a useless expenditure of muscular energy, Halowell dropped back to the assistance of the creeper and a friendly gargoyle, and debated whether to return to his old position in the hall or remain where he was. While in the throes of this debate a practical demonstration of acoustics assured him that it is infinitely less difficult to hear through the many crevices of a window frame than the one crack of a door. The immediate cause of the knowledge was the sputter of wax as if a letter were being sealed. The sound was as distinct as if the operation were taking place in the airiness of his own uncomfortable perch. And, as if a further test were necessary to assure him of the value of his discovery, a voice (Borden's, he knew), said briskly. 64 Clayton Halowell " There ! that's done Now Madam ! " In response to the invitation contained in the latter exclamation Olive began to speak. Long before she was finished the watcher's few doubts had given place to certainty, and his many misgivings to fury. He could kill a man cheerfully blade to blade, but deliberate murder was no part of him. And this which he was overhearing was as much deliberate murder as the blow itself. Though, during those minutes, Halowell ran the whole gamut of passion, he never forgot his character of eavesdropper. On the con- trary not one syllable escaped him of Olive's enumeration of the number and position of the troops in and about Morristown ; the continued lack of ordinance stores and commissary sup- plies ; the disaffection of the Pennsylvania line ; the absurdly inadequate guard of the newly arrived artillery at Hanover; the date the French fleet was due to arrive ; or the fact that Lafayette was supposed to have in his posses- sion a treaty from Louis. Every scrap of gos- sip or information her guests had let fall or she Use of a Window Demonstrated 65 had gleaned by question and observation Olive retold. When she ceased speaking Halowell groaned at the thought of how he himself must have contributed to this record many times. " And that's done," repeated Borden. " A good night's work, to be sure." The last remark passed unnoticed and there was such a long silence that Halowell presently began to fear the meeting had adjourned. In a cold chill at the thought of his mission in- complete he drew himself to the sill again and peeped into the room. The sight of the end of a skirt and a spurred boot reassured him. He slid back to his gargoyle, content to bide his time. " For God's sake, Borden, leave off trim- ming that quill ! " exclaimed a tremulous voice, just as the Major had resettled himself, and which he placed to the credit of the timid new comer. " Get this business over ! " " At once, at once," said Borden, the rustle of paper punctuating the suavity of his answer. " Haven't quite gotten over your nervousness, 66 Clayton Halowell have you ? But Lord knows we're safe enough here. Eh, Madam? Now! Have any plans been made to reinforce Lincoln ? " " De Kalb may go with the Maryland line.'* Scratch, scratch sounded the quill. " Is Heath's brigade strong enough to with- stand an attack supported by the sloops in the river ? " " Yes." Scratch went the quill again. And then, as rapidly as the questions could be asked, answered and transcribed to the paper came: "What is Putnam's strength? Have any orders been sent to the cavalry in Connecticut to break camp? Have Stirling's troopers been supplied with mounts to replace those lost during the winter? Have the picket guards at Elizabethtown been moved, or is the report merely a ruse? What are the pros- pects for the success of a raid into South Jer- sey? What is the object of the movement of troops toward the Highlands is it to attack New York ? " And the unhesitating answers to each and every question were eloquent of the Use of a Window Demonstrated 67 answerer's knowledge of the inner workings of the army machinery. Nor were politics forgotten. When the mil- itary situation had been thoroughly threshed, a concise statement was prepared of the job- bery, peculation and jealousies which rent camp and Congress; of the insubordination of many of the leading generals; of the senseless, irri- tating policy of the Legislature in respect to every order of the commander-in-chief. Plans which Halowell knew must have originated at headquarters were dissected, and opinions on the discouragement of the men at their con- tinued inaction and lack of pay, expressed. With the final reading of the report the lis- tener blanched. It was so clear, so pitilessly accurate a record of poverty, discord and weak- ness that Clinton could not but use it to deadly advantage. And its usefulness to the British commander was not the least of its vicious qualities. Mr. Conway's cabal was still hot in the minds of the public; another series of dis- asters would, in all probability, point the charges contained in that document and prove 68 Clayton Halowell the undoing of the Man whom Halowell wor- shipped even above Mistress Dalton and his ambition. With the conviction that these plotters must be destroyed before their machinations had un- dermined his idol's well-deserved prestige, there arose to Halowell's mind a vision of the sweet-eyed, dignified, courteous gentleman who had shaken his hand as an equal before the whole army (his hand; that of a mere trooper, with not the best of records for subordination) and presented the commission and spoken the kindly words that had roused him from him- self. He felt a sort of wonder that anyone, knowing the General, could deliberately seek his ruin. Of the ruin of the army as the chief stay of the Republic he thought little. To him the army was simply a vehicle freighted with ex- citement and the opportunities a peaceful life did not contain. For the joys of commerce and accumulation were not for Halowell. The wild race through ploughed fields or along muddy highways, hurrahing and waving a stained sword; the crash of the charge; the Use of a Window Demonstrated 69 fierce exhilaration of the game wherein a slip means death; the return down a cheering line with a guidon or a color to swing that was the essence of life as he viewed it. To have this snatched away just as its sweetness was becoming indispensable, was a catastrophe the mere thought of which bred fury. " There's nothing more to-night." Halowell regained his mental equilibrium and recognized the fact that perturbation occupies the mind to the exclusion of the other senses. " You won't forget to copy the Connecticut dispatches? " Borden's reminder was evidently addressed to the stranger, for the tremulous voice de- manded sullenly : " Have I ever forgotten them?" and without awaiting an answer con- tinued : " Are you ready to go ? " in a way that was eloquent of a desire to be gone. Taking his cue from the words, Halowell climbed again up to the sill. Borden was walk- ing to the door and removing his hat from the knob. The mysterious muffled stranger was bidding Madam good-night. It was clearly time to descend. yo Clayton Halowell And here, for what can honestly be classified as the first time in his career, Halowell bungled. His limbs were stiff with cramp and cold ; and vegetation and leather care nothing for the des- tinies of states nor the comfort of individuals. Because of this laxity, and also because of a feverish fear of missing his quarry, Halowell, instead of reaching terra-firma decently on his feet, found himself on his back amid dripping dahlias and petunias and holly-hocks, with the wind all knocked from his body. For a second he could only lie still and gasp. Then the thought of his mission pushed through the haze of his semi-insensibility. Bruised and shaken though he was, he clambered to his feet. The house was dancing an ungainly hornpipe and the trees were all blurred into one whirling blackness. He had no recollection of attempting to do more than stare at these freakings of nature when a rustic bench grew out of the mist and waverecjinto his path. Then the thing leaped up at him, hit him so as to produce the roaring of a hurricane in his ears ; and blackness, absolute and complete, descended in a thunder-clap. CHAPTER VI WHEREIN HALOWELL PAYS A CALL AND MA- DAM DE LAURENT DESTROYS A LETTER THE pallid light of a rainy April dawn was streaking the hill-tops and the Heavens when Halowell's senses shook free of their unnatural lethargy. It was drizzling and his head throbbed as madly as after a long night at the " Goat." Minutes passed before he could do more than idly watch the water roll off the edges of the box beside him and wonder where he was. When, however, the events of the night returned, the consciousness of failure engulfed all bodily pain. As he limped through the mist-wrapped gar- dens and climbed into his dripping saddle, he sought to compose his thoughts and arrange a plan of battle. His foes were crafty and un- scrupulous. To denounce Borden and Madam de Laurent on the simple evidence of his word 7* 72 Clayton Halowell would not only be stupid policy but would al- low the most important plotter (he who had supplied the greatest amount of news) time either to escape or cover his tracks. Immature thoughts of seeking Olive at once and demand- ing the name of the conspirator, of threatening Borden with instant denunciation if he did not disclose the traitor's identity, crowded hotly into his brain, and were only banished when cooler second thoughts showed them in their true absurdity. Any attempt to force the con- spirators' hands would result in closing the only direct channel of information. Figuring the problem out by cool calculation, Halowell concluded that passive activity must be the key- note of his actions. Eyes and ears must be kept alert ; Borden and Olive watched ; and the To- ries in the neighborhood spied upon closely. With a muttered curse on the mischance which had picked upon him to unravel this tangled skein of treachery, he bent to the storm, spurred his jaded, muddy mount, and trotted heavily toward camp. Early as it was, the world that lay in the hill- A Call Paid A Letter Destroyed 73 encircled valley was stirring. A shivering, yawning relief tramped down the sloppy road, too sleepy to spare a glance at the dishevelled horse and rider it passed. An orderly, un- shaven and red-eyed, galloped out of the mist and rain, and disappeared into it again. A squad of dragoons, convoying a forage wagon and several lean cows, clattered from a lane. Bugles wailed in the cantonments, and long lines of men and horses crept to the river. Then the sun straggled through the clouds and the second of brightness was utilized by the guard to run up the headquarters' flag. And the camp was awake, ready for another day of weari- some waiting while Congress squabbled and enemies destroyed. Halowell's regiment was hutted in a hollow on the side of Mt. Kemble, at the extreme east- ern end of the camp. His hut was the last in the regimental line, from its threshold the fields and woods of the unoccupied country stretching in a long dip to the line of elms that marked the Princeton Pike. It looked less in- viting than ever in the rain and the state of its 74 Clayton Halowell owner's mind. Halowell clambered to the ground, gave his horse to an orderly, and threw himself, booted and spurred and wet as he was, upon the cot which, with a portable shaving- stand and a crazy, home-made table, constituted the principal articles of furniture the one draughty, tobacco-and-leather-fumed room boasted ; and with set lips and eyes icy hard, he threshed the situation again. On two points he was baffled; the first, the knowledge of the complicated politics, the rings and inner rings, which whirled the camp and Congress and made publicity of his secret an impossibility: for where the stone he set roll- ing might strike, and what idols it might shat- ter, he had no way of knowing. Nor could he court publicity for a second reason none less than Olive's life. To seal the woman's fate be- yond redemption, to be the agent by which she would be polluted by the cord and cap made him shudder, grimly determined though he was to break the plot and banish the plotters. It seemed as if he were in a maze and must grope for the exit indefinitely. A Call Paid A Letter Destroyed 75 Even, however, as the great Alexander cut the Gordian knot, so did the Major solve his riddle. " By God, I'll do it ! " he muttered, after a spell of thought had drawn lines about his mouth and hardened his usually careless coun- tenance. And again, more soberly, " I'll do it ! " he said, as he rose and changed his wet uniform. An hour after morning drill the blue-plushed, gold-corded, ebony footman who kept Mad- am's hall ushered Major Halowell into the small salon, and departed to apprise his mis- tress of her visitor. Halowell had discarded his uniform for a civilian suit, as more appro- priate to the irregularity of the occasion ; and the figure he cut in the wine-colored coat and shorts, the white, flowered waistcoat, and the gold-trimmed, feathered beaver was sufficiently elegant to justify his dispassionate admiration of himself in the pier glass between the win- dows. The waistcoat was not as fresh as it had been the previous year, and the lace on the beaver showed signs of many burnishings. But 76 Clayton Halowell despite these drawbacks he knew he looked well and was not ashamed to own it. " Then it really is you," Olive said, as Halo- well bowed at the door of her boudoir. And by some paradox the flattering eagerness of her voice smothered the vanity which had but the previous moment glowed in the visitor's broad breast. " Yes, it is I," he said, and crossed to the window to gain time to arrange his thoughts. Across the river were the chimneys of Joyce's cottage, smoking through the surrounding chestnut grove. Beyond the pencil of smoke, over the brow of the hill, a flag was reflecting the sunlight like a great noonday star. And up and down the valley were the scarred fields, each boasting a row of log huts or a clump of stable sheds or some manner of shanty for man or beast or gun. The sight was familiar enough to him, but he studied it long and carefully. Olive on her part, toyed with a vase of flowers and endeavored to prevent her happiness from shining in her eyes. She was clad in a trailing, fleecy gown of pink, which was all lace and A Call Paid A Letter Destroyed 77 frills and bunches of ribbon. The curves of her waist and bust were emphasized rather than concealed by the dainty covering, and her eyes were pools of wonderful softness. When Halo~- well turned and saw them he wished fiercely that he had never conceived the idea of seeking pity in this haven of beauty and frailty. " I'm going to ask a stereotyped question,"' he said, abruptly. " Quite needless we are alone." " Then," he crossed and frowned into the smiling face. "Then I can speak freely? There must be no eavesdropping, for your good." "Good gracious!" cried Olive, raising her hands in mock alarm. " For my good. Then I am not to hear that you have run your colonel through, or that your tender violet has been plucked ? " " I haven't come to discuss myself." The bantering reference to Joyce was ill-advised, for it hardened Halowell's heart. " You See here, Olive, I'll not beat about the bush. I know what you are doing here and I've come to 78 Clayton Halowell warn you, in defiance of my oath and duty, to get yourself clear. I'm devilish sorry it should have been I who had to stumble upon the game. But now that I have stumbled, the only course I have is to report at headquarters. You must leave Morristown. You can work up a sud- den call to New York to see a dying friend, or to dance at Knyphausen's May Day ball, if you wish. A spy is not handled with gloves." Olive's face did not change in one line; but she threw back her head, which was the only sign she vouchsafed of understanding this thunder from a clear sky. Halowell waited a full minute for an answer and then seated himself deliberately on the end of a divan and smoothed his hat. " You heard me? " he said, gently. " I heard a stream of very incoherent words a threat I suppose I am to construe it." " Not a threat, Olive, a warning." Madam de Laurent courtesied low. " How very chivalrous. But you may recall the warn- ing, sir. Really, Clayton, you are ridiculous at times." A Call Paid A Letter Destroyed 79 " You won't be guided ? " " And leave comfortable quarters " " Which are maintained by English gold ! " Halowell interrupted, in a sudden flash of rage. " God knows how many American lives these 1 comfortable quarters ' have cost ! " " You take much for granted," said Olive, coldly. " If you can prove that I am what you do not hesitate to name produce your proof to the proper persons and have done with it. And if you are in doubt as to the proper person, I would suggest the Provost." The defiance allowed Halowell a glimpse of the difficulties in store for him. Olive must be very sure of herself to thus challenge him on his own ground. And yet, for all her boldness, the woman knew her companion well enough, and his reputation for dogged perseverance well enough, to know that nothing short of cold steel would turn him from the path upon which he had blundered. "You are determined it shall be war?" he said. He had risen, and Olive had drawn her- self up to her full height confronting him. They 80 Clayton Halowell were a well-matched pair, the lithe-limbed, strong-jawed man and the cool, clever woman, whose wonderful beauty was a better charm than the man's sword. " Had you not better reconsider? You are forcing a very ungallant role upon me; and I may not be able to save you when the truth comes to light." " I may not be able to save you, Clayton, during the time when the truth is coming to light." " Hm ! " Halowell continued for a few mo- ments longer to pay a deal of attention to his hat. " I'll take the risk," he said at length, and looked into his companion's eyes. " There's a moral side to the matter I won't discuss, morals not being much in my line. But when a man finds a parasite sucking the very life of that which he not only loves, but which is his bread and butter, his rank and position in society, he fights. You understand, he fights, Olive ! I've done my best to save you. If you won't be warned you must bear the consequences." " Are you trying to ' save ' me, Clayton, be- cause you were pleased to admire me once, A Call Paid A Letter Destroyed 81 many hundreds of years ago ? " asked Olive, and gave a short laugh and plucked a flower slowly to pieces. " What a queer animal man is, to be sure. And thanks for your good in- tentions and advice. It was very kind of you to consider me. But I think I shall not go." The decision meant many things to Halowell dangers which could only be guessed at, an- noyances and discomforts too numerous to be grasped in one thought. Yet he admired the woman's pluck. He would have acted in the same manner under similar circumstances ; and one loves a kindred spirit if only for the rarity of the specimen. " That is your final answer ? " he said. Olive nodded; she dared not trust herself to speak. In all her life she had never so desired a man's love as she desired this man's. His de- parture meant the end of an epoch in her life. She felt numb and cold at the mere thought of losing him. " Then I need detain you no longer, Olive," Halowell said, and arose from the divan. " I shall unwind the workings of this pleasant 8s Clayton Halowell arrangement you and friend Borden have developed so nicely unless, of course, I run into a strip of cold steel some dark night; I shall be obliged by my oath to lay my knowl- edge before His Excellency; and there you have the programme. Don't think my motives worthy commendation," he continued, relaps- ing into a strain of cynical frankness quite in accord with his feelings. " Don't think that, Olive. I freely confess to not being one of the enthusiastic fools who imagine the earth will cease to revolve if we don't whip King George. But, you see, if we are whipped there will be no army, and no commission, and no Congress to owe me money. That's a trinity of nega- tives at which I balk and shudder. I've grown absurdly fond of respectability during the past two months." " Since you went to Philadelphia, why don't you say, and speak the whole truth ! " flashed Olive; and before her companion could reply, continued : " I shall not plead my cause, Clay- ton, nor do you the honor of denying my work. I am here in the interest of the British govern- A Call Paid A Letter Destroyed 83 ment which can take care of itself just as I, its humble instrument, shall take care of my- self. You and I have been friends all winter. That is past now, if you will it so. Your duty lies in hanging me. Well, hang me if you can. But I shall protect myself. You warned me; now we are quits." The forced calm had vanished and Madam was her unbridled self, beautiful, tigerish, as de- fiant as was ever captive queen to insolent con- queror. Yet through her defiance there rang a pain as deep as ever seared a woman's heart. And Halowell, hearing the note, needed all he had of fortitude and devotion to his Com- mander to keep the course he had mapped. He took the woman's hand and kissed it gravely. " We have made our mistake, Olive, and I humbly ask forgiveness of mine to you. You are acting up to your principles, and who am I to judge that principle? We must go our ways. Good-by." A second time he kissed the hand he held. Then he bowed and was gone, and Madam de Laurent was a statue listening to a firm tread growing fainter on the stair. 84 Clayton Halowell The crunch of hoofs came from the drive be- fore the woman changed her position. With the sound she drew a long, sobbing breath, and stirred as if her muscles were bound in iron. " It has come ! It has come ! " she muttered, and repeated the phrase time and again, until a sudden frenzy of action dispelled the passive acquiescence to Fate the words implied. Cross- ing to her desk, with feverish energy and a wrinkle in her forehead half of ferocity, half of agony, she selected a sheet of plain paper and dashed off the following: " Major Halowell knows all. See that he is" The sentence ended in an aimless scrawl and a passion of weeping. " My God ! Not that ! Not that ! " the wo- man whispered, reading a deadly peril in the eight words she had penned. " I I can't do that! " As if to avoid a temptation or destroy a hateful object, she suddenly tore the unfin- ished note into fragments. For quite a minute she was motionless save for a twitching in her lips and the tumultuous heaving of her breast. Major Halowell knows all. See that he is . Page A Call Paid A Letter Destroyed 85 Then she rose, white-lipped, tottered to her bed-room, and closed the door gently. And to the end of his days a certain tall in- fantry Major who, at the moment of Madam's retirement, was riding moodily toward camp, remained in ignorance of the narrowness of the margin by which certain death had passed him by. CHAPTER VII WHEREIN ARE RECORDED SEVERAL OCCUR- RENCES WHEN Halawell left Olive his hopes of making good his threat to destroy the conspir- acy were at a dishearteningly low ebb; but when, at the end of a week devoted to the run- ning down of clues which ended in nothing, and to the tracking of Borden and Borden's friends on errands of unquestionable inno- cence, he was ready to doubt the prudence of attempting to carry out his plans single-handed. In spite of feverish and untiring activity and complete disregard for the possible complica- tions hinted at by Olive, nowhere could he find proof of the treason which was his objective. And all the while the treason was making cer- tain and more certain the destruction of the man Clayton Halowell idolized and the break- down of the vehicle by which Clayton Halowell 86 Several Occurrences Recorded 87 had elected to roll himself into power and af- fluence. Under the continual strain of his disappoint- ment and vexation even his duties grew irk- some ; and when the seventh morning after his interview with Olive he was ordered to Han- over for picket inspection, the fact that the duty would entail absence from the seat of his in- vestigations came as near to disheartening him as his nature would allow. A series of petty delays kept him in Hanover twelve hours longer than usual, and it was not until the day following his departure that he was free to turn homeward. The previous night having been the first he had missed from his posts behind the wall opposite Borden's house and the shrubbery surrounding Madam de Laurent's mansion, the certainty that events had transpired, simply because he had not been present to take cognizance of them, spurred him on the road with a lover's eagerness. Midway between Hanover and Whippany the highroad bends broadly in a half-mile arc, and skirts a wide stretch of marshland. The 88 Clayton Halowell head of the arc was the crossroad of an unused bridle path which led diagonally across the marsh and cut a mile from the two to Morris- town. Ordinarily caution and a regard for the scarcity of horseflesh would have pointed the highway as Halo well's path. But in his im- patience to assure himself that his fears were realized he turned into the woodland road and in an instant was engulfed in a mass of arching foliage and a damp, rustling silence. The scent of the wet reeds and roots, and the far-away call of birds soothed his spirits. He suddenly became aware that he was dispirited and rest- less. His mind, in spite of his efforts to pre- vent it, strayed to the cottage in the lane and to the companionable little maid who presided therein, and whose image, also despite his ef- forts to prevent it, was in the habit of crowding into his heart to the exclusion of worldly idols. Even now the laughing, winsome idol was in its accustomed place. Was he actually Did he love " Let her have her baby-faced boy ! " he mut- tered between his teeth ; and proceeded to Several Occurrences Recorded 89 demonstrate, with much elaborateness of detail and argument, that the quiet of the sitting- room and the comfort of the afternoon cup of chocolate was what he missed more than the companionship of the hostess. Disappointed ambition and not despondent Cupid, was pluck- ing at his heart. A shrill neigh put a period to Major Halo- well's arguments by forcing upon him an inter- est in his surroundings. The wood was very thick and encroached upon the path to such an extent that for two horsemen to have ridden abreast would have been an impossibility. Water, moss and green slime were deep upon the sides of the path, beyond which great knuckles of rock formed shallow valleys and sharp grades in a wilderness of rank vegetation. Occasionally the trees were sufficiently far apart to allow glimpses of the landscape; but the glimpses showed a vista so desolate, so un- healthy and boggy and unstable that Halowell, after hasty preparations for a possible emer- gency, decided the sound he had taken to be a neigh had been in reality the call of a bird. 9 Clayton Halowell i The decision had no more than been reached when it was shattered by a second equine greet- ing that came from a dense patch of rhododen- drons almost directly beside Halowell. The Major was off his horse pulling it to shelter in an incredibly short time. The mud and his slow pace had muffled his approach, he was pos- itive; and that there should be a horse in the loneliness of this marsh was, to say the least, a singular circumstance. Barely had Halowell gained the shelter of a boulder and gripped his nag's muzzle to stifle its answering neigh, when the rhododendrons swayed and the sight of a broad, heavy face inspired him with an unholy joy. The face was that of Mr. Borden, contractor of oats to the Third Division of the Continental army; and Mr. Borden's eyes and pose were those of nerv- ous, startled guilt. A minute he stood glar- ing up and down the path; then, cursing the timidity of his horse, he shoved a pistol beneath his coat and disappeared. No splashing ac- companied his departure, which fact betrayed to the astute watcher the existence of a path Several Occurrences Recorded 91 behind the rhododendrons. And in a further access of joy he almost forgot that he was standing ankle deep in green slime and that home-made patches are not always water-tight. Borden had been gone several minutes before Halowell, with infinite caution, stole back to the road. Two minutes later Bucephalus was contentedly munching the buds on an impro- vised hitching-post behind a line of willows, and his master was wriggling his lithe body into the path which, as he had surmised, lay behind the apparently impassable hedge of rho- dodendrons. The contractor's horse was in a recess a pace from the head of the path. In- voluntarily Halowell paused and glanced back to see that his retreat was secure in case the ani- mal betrayed him. The precaution, however, proved unnecessary, for, after a long stare, the beast returned to its browsing. The faithless sentinel had no sooner dropped his eyes than Halowell was past. The path was a steep tunnel of green, and ended on the edge of a shallow basin completely masked by sur- rounding hillocks. A turbulent brook, the 92 Clayton Halowell drain of the marsh, rattled through the depres- sion. On the bank, near where it gushed from the tangled trees, was a hovel, and Borden and a little, lean old man. The former was talking. Halowell scrutinized the surrounding vegeta- tion, and, seeing nothing to excite alarm, bent his whole attention upon the conversation be- low. " There wasn't as much as a pigeon in sight," Borden was saying. " The nag screeches on every foolish occasion. Here are the reports," and he handed his companion a packet at sight of which the Major's finger curled longingly over his trigger. It would be so easy to pot the scoundrel ! Only the realiza- tion of the fact that the killing of the man would be largely in the nature of slaying the golden goose, prevented the shot. " And now I've another matter to speak of," Borden continued, when his companion had stowed the packet carefully in an inner pocket. " It's partly private business, but it'll pay you fifty guineas, Fletcher, if properly attended to/' Several Occurrences Recorded 93 The old man looked up quickly. " 'Twill pay, you say? Then out with it ! " " It concerns him the last one, you know, Madam's recruit. I want him to pay a debt for me, and incidentally to remove an enemy of us all." " Not specially straight directions, if I may say so." " But enough if supplemented with details. You're a clever man, Fletcher, and gold is not so plentiful that you'll sneeze at a chance of making some." " Poth ! Where's the sense of beating in the bush ! " cried Fletcher, impatiently. " Tell me the chance and I'll attend to the sneezing, you can lay to it. We'll No, sink me! Now I come to think on it, I'll have the chance writ in black and white. You needn't be feared," he continued, as Borden exclaimed he would see some one further before he'd write a word on paper. " Muffle your fist if you will. But I've a certain method of business which I learned in London, sir, many years back, gentlemen being apt to forget things when it comes 94 Clayton Halowell to a pinch with the constables asking ques- tions." Apparently Borden recognized the stolidly obstinate note in his companion's voice. With- out attempting to argue he strode into the hut. Fletcher remained blinking at the brook until he reappeared. " The paper's on the table, names and every- thing. Work it any way you like, only keep me out of sight." " And when do I get the fifty guineas ? " " When the thing's done. I'll take the re- ceipt for the dispatches Thursday. Good-by ! " and Borden strode up the incline to the path through the rhododendrons, in an apparent ill- humor at the other's cool insistence. Looking neither to the right nor to the left he unhitched his nag, and, after reconnoitering the road, mounted. Not before the splash of hoofs had ceased did Clayton breathe. If his horse had neighed or rustled the bushes, or if Borden had glanced at the trampled mud of the path, hopes of re- trieving a former clumsiness and obtaining pos- Several Occurrences Recorded 95 session of traitorous correspondence intact would have met, if not defeat, at least a set- back. But now the road was clear ; and boldly appearing at the edge of the dip, Halowell ran into the valley. The door of the hovel opened when he was still some yards distant, and the old man stepped into the sunlight. " Mr. Borden sent me back for the papers," said the Major, after a polite, " Good day to you," had failed to charm the suspicion from the old man's sharp little eyes. "What papers?" interrupted the custodian harshly. " The packet for New York. I'm to add to it that" " Have ye the pass-word well, yes or no!" " Nay, but" " Then off ye go," snapped the man and slammed the door and found his visitor's foot on the threshold. " No use," said Halowell. " I want the papers." 96 Clayton Halowell To the Major's surprise Fletcher stepped aside and held open the door. " You want the papers, do ye? " he snarled. " Then find them." Halowell commenced his search with a busi- ness-like promptness, and ran his hand over his prisoner's coat and made him remove his boots and stockings. The papers, however, were not forthcoming, so he turned to the search of the single room the hovel contained. The mattress of the truckle-bed, the bed-clothes themselves, the cupboard above the fire-place, and even the floor and walls were scruti- nized by a pair of eyes which, for sharpness, had no peer in the army. But in spite of thoroughness, not so much as a muster-roll came to light; and Halowell, after an hour of unremitting labor, was scowling down at a wrinkled, triumphant old face, confessedly baffled. " By all the furies ! I'll make you give them up ! " he muttered, and whipped out a pistol with a mouth sufficiently grim to emphasize the threat. " Tell me where" Several Occurrences Recorded 97 "Ay, it be grand air," Fletcher mumbled. " Grand air indeed; fine air." " None of that damned nonsense ! You'll dangle high as Haman, my man, if I have to report this to the Provost." " Ducks is fond of water ; none will gainsay it, sir." "Zounds!" frothed Halowell; and then stopped and, sharp as was his disappointment, burst into peal upon peal of laughter. " A pretty kettle of fish, 'pon honor ! " he gasped, mopping his eyes. " A major of infantry coz- zened by a wrinkled old go-between ! And coz- zened neatly too, by the Lord ! Well, how much do you want for the papers ? I'll listen to a fair price." " Fair ? Where may there be a fair, sir, these days ? " Halowell ignored his companion's irrele- vancy. " Thirty guineas I'll bid. Thirty won't do ? then forty fifty. Come ! that's as much as Borden offered for his mysterious work. You ought to entertain the bid for that reason if for none other." 98 Clayton Halowell Only the flashing of the old man's eyes be- trayed his interest in his inquisitor's words. His lips remained tightly closed; and even when the sum of one hundred guneas had been reached and offered they were in the same state of uncompromising rigidity. " Sink me ! " Halowell exclaimed, admir- ingly. " You're an obstinate old devil, Fletch- er. I can't strap you, much as I'd enjoy the op- eration " "And you can't find anything here," the man vouchsafed, " that'll help you get what you're looking for." In spite of the declaration, however, and in the teeth of his previous failure, Halowell ran- sacked the shanty a second time before ac- knowledging the truth of the statement. " I think you're right, Fletcher," he said, when failure had attended him again. " I think you're right, and I'm sure you're to be com- plimented on your hiding places. But next time I may have better luck." Regaining his horse, Hallowell mounted and resigned himself to the mapping out of a Several Occurrences Recorded 99 fresh campaign which this new clue made pos- sible. The conspiracy was evidently huge and of clock-work perfection; and as his thoughts led him through a tangle of plan and counter- plan, of plot and counterplot, he left pace and road to Bucephalus' choosing. An equine peculiarity is a retentive memory for localities in which food and idleness abound. Sometimes this trait is embarrassing, as, for instance, when one is driving the bishop home and the nag insists upon visiting every tavern in which the groom has at some time or other sampled hospitality; or when one is out with the Newest One and the brute swerves suggestively at the Old One's gate. Bucepha- lus' Nemesis was a certain narrow lane heavily shaded with chestnuts and for which he enter- tained fond recollections of long afternoons and juicy oats. After hesitating decently as becomes a self-respecting and docile animal, he gave way to temptation. Feeling no restrain- ing hand he jogged comfortably over a carpet of dried leaves, content in the knowledge of well-doing. When his master finally ceased to ioo Clayton Halowell stare at the pommel and evolve schemes for the capture of presumptuous scoundrels, and the aggrandizement of worthy patriots, he had stopped at the foot of a familiar flagged walk and was sampling one of two flanking syringa bushes, and gazing wistfully at the lawn that sloped to the line of willows on a river bank. What the master saw was quite different. He skipped the lawn in preference to a dashing green-and-gold chariot in the road, and the syringa bushes for an imperiously beckoning little figure in a window. An instant he vacil- lated between obstinacy on the one hand and inclination and curiosity on the other. When, however, inclination and curiosity pull together the conclusion is foregone; consequently the reader will not be surprised when it is recorded that Major Halowell, in spite of recent assev- erations to the contrary, dismounted and as- cended the flagged walk. " I really should not speak to you for a most uncivil gentleman," Joyce said, when the new guest had bowed to Madam and responded to Several Occurrences Recorded 101 her greetings. " It is a week since I had the honor, sir." " That Mistress Dalton should be piqued on such a score is indeed a compliment." Some- how Halowell's anger would not stay in his heart; and the sight of the mignon little face and mobile red lips robbed him of his dignity. " What pretty sentiment," cried Olive. " Does Mr. Halowell call often, dear child? If he does, take the advice of an old woman " (Olive could say it charmingly) " and do not trust a soldier because he has been fortunate enough to have secured occasional dances and shown one the beauties of the mid- Jersey hills." " But I don't trust him for that," protested Joyce innocently, and looked puzzled when Olive laughed. " He was so kind while I was in Philadelphia, and took such good care of me on the way here when George said I could come, that gratitude, if nothing else, would make me glad to receive him." The significance of the " if nothing else " in the explanation did not escape either Madam de Laurent or Major Halowell. The former's 102 Clayton Halowell mouth hardened ever so slightly, and the lat- ter's dignity became completely swamped in a joy he did not attempt to smother. " Gratitude, my dear," said Olive smoothly, " is a dangerous commodity What a sweet tidy ; did you work it ? I must learn the stitch. And what tremendous geraniums ! A slip, if you love me; Neb shall plant it to-morrow in my window-box. And you've an invitation to Lady Washington's ball for the thirteenth, I see. Wear the pink paduasoy, like a good child; it becomes you so well." And Halowell was compelled to look on helplessly while the older woman pinned Joyce fast by the fascina- tion of her tact and graciousness. The task in itself was not difficult, for most girls are as susceptible to the blandishments of an assured beauty of their own sex as are men. And it required no effort for Olive to charm. With swift intuition she singled out those things which were the girl's household gods, and proceeded to laud them. Her's was not the off-hand approval which is a symptom of en- nui; it was rather the careful, analytical pick- Several Occurrences Recorded 103 ing apart, the unwilling admiration of an ex- pert who has met if not a superior, at least an equal. She examined each petal and leaf of the precious embroidery; she suggested the addi- tion of tulips to the flower-bed, which was Joyce's especial care and pride; she reproved the girl for having sent regrets to a luncheon she had given, and declared that unless she rode with her the following afternoon peace between them would be impossible. Vainly Halowell strove to read the object of the flat- tery. Furiously he cursed himself for not using his knowledge to prevent a recurrence of the scene. When at length the siren gathered her wraps and declared that she must go, he made no effort to conceal his pleasure, and was promptly dealt a quid pro quo for the rudeness. " No, no, Joyce (I may call you Joyce, may I not, dear?) not another moment. Three quarters of an hour is not a formal call. Nor can I stay to chocolate, witch ! Mr. and Mrs. Arnold sup with me and I give you my word I do not even know what has been ordered, for I've been gallivanting since noon. I shall ex- IO4 Clayton Halowell pect you to-morrow then. Good-by." She kissed the girl on the mouth, with a look which showed the Major the triumph she felt and continued : " Good day to you, Mr. Halowell. Shall I see you Thursday? He used to visit me now and then, Joyce. But a newer and prettier face ! Dig up the gratitude, child. Good-by again ! " As Halowell handed Madam into her chariot his bottled anger fizzed up. " I only know one other person who is your peer at play-acting," he said. " The person is very old and very dirty, and he lives in a pig- sty of a hole near Hanover, but the art of dis- simulation is developed within him to a degree as wonderful as within you." " Indeed ! " answered Olive, reaching for her scent bottle. " Who is the paragon, pray? " " A certain Mr. Fletcher, who is a particular friend of Mr. Borden's." "Fletcher?" murmured Olive. She bent ostensibly to see that the lap-robe was adjusted, in reality to hide a sudden darkening of her eyes. " So you have decided to bring old Several Occurrences Recorded 105 Fletcher into your net. Who will be next His Excellency or Mrs. Arnold? Home, Jonas ! " "What were you whispering about? " Joyce asked, when Halowell was once more upon his settle and she was in the be-flowered bow- window. " I thought you would never get to the end of your story. Nay, I do not really wish to know," she went on primly, as her visitor frowned, " if it causes you so much trouble to remember The weather has been very pleasant, has it not? " Halowell damned the weather beneath his breath and said, " Very," above it. " I suppose you have been busy? " politely. " Very." " And have not even been at the Goat? " " Not for a week, thank you." There was a silence during which the girl stitched industriously and Halowell studied his sword-knot. Conversational topics being at a premium he observed presently, " I heard of you as having been at the Assembly." "Yes, I was there with Mr. Winslow." io6 Clayton Halowell Whether the cut was dealt unconsciously or with intent to hurt, Halowell did not know. The uncertainty, however, did not make the smart less painful. He rose and walked to the spin- net and tumbled the music. If he could have seen the swift relentment that swept over his companion's features he might have been less angry. Not having seen it, he raged inwardly at himself for a soft-hearted idiot who had given way to a temptation from which he had been all but freed. "Did you enjoy yourself?" he managed to articulate. "Oh, ever so much! But I wished you That is, every one was very nice to me. Mr. Hamilton took me twice for the minuet, and I sat out a polonaise with Mr. Lee. Madam de Laurent was the belle as usual. Don't you think she is beautiful ? And she's so good, too ; she gave a hundred dollars toward the hospital fund yesterday and donated a dozen jars of pre- serves to the bazar." Halowell did not feel he could conscien- tiously discuss Madam's charitable qualities, Several Occurrences Recorded 107 and hastened to change the subject by remark- ing, " Someone said your brother returned yes- terday." This topic was as unfortunate, in one way, as the other had been ; it drove every vestige of animation from the girl's face. " Yes, he's returned," she said. " And he'll have a fever from the worry of his failure. Dick says there's some talk at headquarters of removing him from the staff ; as if he could help if a lot of nasty Highlanders (they're horrid, red- faced, shaggy brutes anyway), shot his men when he didn't expect them ! Have you heard anything about the removal, Mr. Halowell ? " Halowell had heard about the removal in connection with the utter lack of military pre- caution exhibited by Dalton as leader of a foraging expedition and the inexplicably care- less manner in which he had walked into the enemies' trap and had been savagely glad at the news. He had even gloated over the wretchedness of the few survivors of the expe- dition, which made their commander's public disgrace the matter of hours. Joyce had hurt io8 Clayton Halowell him ; now she was to be hurt in turn. He had pictured her every look, her every thought un- der the stigma of disgrace, and had been un- happily happy. But now, when he had an op- portunity to turn the knife, for some reason he held his hand and deliberately said that he had heard no such absurd rumor. " George is just sick with the disgrace," sighed the girl, her mouth drooping and her eyes filling until the last trace of her visitor's resentment gave way to a most disquieting pity. " He didn't want the command, you know, but they insisted upon his taking it. He was at- tacked just beyond Elizabethtown and and I'm sure no reasonable man can blame him for not expecting enemies there." " No reasonable man will," Halowell said soothingly. " His Excellency never " But before any explanation of His Excel- lency's doings could be made, the knocker sounded loudly and Winslow, waving a bit of paper, invaded the apartment. " It's to Lady Washington's, for the thirteenth ! " he cried, and Halowell incontinently fled. CHAPTER VIII WHEREIN MADAM PRACTICES DIPLOMACY " MASSA DALTON'S waitin' in de gilt ' saloon '." The butler's announcement fanned into flame a fury which had smouldered in Madam's eyes since her parting- with Mr. Halowell. She made a fierce step toward the salon door, hesi- tated, and turned her convulsed face to the servant's stolid ebony one. " Tell him I won't see him ! " she whispered, controlling her voice with difficulty. " You can say I am ill tired anything you please. If he doesn't go, call the gardeners ! No ! " as the servant prepared to depart. " Wait let him come to me in ten minutes. Tell Pom- pey I wish him to take a note to Mr. Borden's at once." Dalton's ten minutes' probation had evi- dently weighed on his nerves, for when he ap- peared at Olive's door his color was that of a 109 no Clayton Halowell corpse, while his eyes, in horrible contrast, were glittering and desperate and panic-stricken. A contemptuous " Hump ! " and the pouring out of a glass of Hollands was his hostess' greeting. Cowardice was not one of her faults; and, like most people so constituted, an exhibition of the weakness irritated her. " I've more to lose than you," Dalton mut- tered, draining the liquor and savagely en- deavoring to steady his lips. When a man is driven too far the animal in him pauses and shows its teeth. The divis- ional line between fear and desperation is as fine as that which separates the sublime from the ridiculous. Olive recognized in her com- panion's snarling voice and wandering glance a symptom which ordinarily she would have been far too wise to disregard. The worm threat- ened to turn, and as the worm was valuable, it should, by every rule of logic, have been paci- fied. But the fierce pain of Halowell's fury at her kissing Joyce was eating cankerously in her heart and required an outlet " You have more to lose ! " she exclaimed, Madam Practices Diplomacy in so contemptuously that her miserable compan- ion flushed to his hair. " I have been on the road this four hours trying to undo your blun- der. Then to be greeted with oh! 'tis un- endurable! Do you think staff appointments grow on bushes, or that fools are kept forever in places of trust?" "It was not my fault!" muttered Dalton, overlooking the fierce insult in an evident and feverish anxiety to justify himself with this hard judge. " No, of course it was not your fault even though the instructions read ' check ' and not * destroy/ Is it in reason, do you suppose, that His Excellency would keep a bungler in his family ? I'm trying hard to make him, but I almost doubt if the trouble is worth the re- ward." " If you would only listen a moment, Olive ! The Highlanders didn't heed the signal, and they had ball cartridge. That was contrary to the order. You must see it was as much their fault as mine. ' If you would only take me more into confidence, I'd " U2 Clayton Halowell " Land us on a rope's end ! " " I'm no worse than others," resented Dai- ton, roused at last. "Nor better, if the truth be told," Olive flashed back. " But as that has nothing to do with us, we'll not discuss it, if you please. The problem we have to solve is how to keep you on the staff after this fiasco." The man made a dozen uneasy strides up and down the room, fear, repentance and apprehen- sion painted upon his white face. " Would to God I had never met you ! " he burst out, and his manner, more than his words, were evidence of his suffering. " I've done all I could for you; I've told what I knew, and spied and pried and listened, to learn more; I've been the cause, through that devil Borden, of many a desolate home and riddled corpse. They were my countrymen, too; my God! my own countrymen! I'm a spy, a miserable spy a snake that should be ground into the dirt and spat upon ! " He resumed his uneven walk and Olive stifled a yawn. This pawn's futile remorse bored her. " I did it all for Madam Practices Diplomacy 113 you," Dalton resumed, passionately, "because I love you ! I'm not the first man who has been false to his country and his honor for a woman. But, by God! I'll do my penance! I'll Olive, won't you understand ! It is your cru- elty that hurts. Give me my reward, and the army, the government, the world may be an- nihilated and I'll be happy. Won't you under- stand, Olive?" Olive suddenly decided that she must under- stand; and as proof of her knowledge treated her humble rebel to one of those swift changes which, many times during similar scenes, had reduced to ashes his flickerings of conscience. Her long lashes sank, a smile broke through the clouds in her eyes and wreathed her mouth with brightest sunshine and behold! the virago had melted into a loving, lovely woman, beautiful enough and tender enough to have bewitched a more stable temperament than Mr. George Dalton's. "Ah, George, dear, I do understand," she said softly," and I ask you to forgive a nervous woman's irritability. I have had so many H4 Clayton Halowell things to contend with and worry me lately that," with an uncertain smile brimming with tears, "that my temper is worn to a shred. Can you forgive me, dear? " Forgive her! Dalton was on his knees in an instant, covering the listless hand with burning kisses and calling the owner his beauty, his queen, his darling, almost sobbing in the intensity of his love and thankfulness. " Hush, hush, dear," Olive whispered. " I am not worthy. In time, perhaps, I may prove my worth ; but not now, not now." She passed her hand over her forehead. " We must all work out our destiny, I suppose. Ours may lie together who knows ? But you must bear with me a little longer. And now, do you want to learn of my mission ? " " I want to learn that you love me that I am not all base in your sight." " We must clear you in the sight of the world first, dear George; my feelings cannot change," which last was strictly true, though the construction George placed upon it was that of a fool in a fool's paradise, " But I shall Madam Practices Diplomacy 115 tell you of my mission even though you inter- rupt with all the gallantries in man's vocabu- lary. I have interested Mr. Arnold in your behalf, and he is to dine here to-night and tell me the result of his efforts. I think we'll be successful, though the certainty is a matter of days yet." A scrap of color stole into Dalton's lips. " I can never thank you," he said, brokenly. " My disgrace would have broken Joyce's heart. If she knew " " Now, now, I'll not hear you revile your- self," cried Olive, holding up a warning hand, which her companion caught and kissed many times, unchecked. " As for thanking me, all I require at present is that you run away like a good boy. I've my toilet to make and my cook to scold employment for two long hours, with only an hour in which to do it." Dalton was jubilantly happy when he fin- ally obeyed the command. Never before had Olive been so tender, so loving to him. The days of his probation were drawing to a close, he thought, fondly; his constancy was begin- n6 Clayton Halowell ning to bear its fruit. What was honor, coun- try, friends, sister, to the love of Olive ? What was life itself without her? He kissed the hand she had held at parting and was utterly happy in his unstable heaven. The sound of boyish voices raised in alterca- tion rudely dispelled his dreams. " You're a nigger ! " one shrill voice af- firmed, only to be contradicted by the assertion that " Youse dirty white trash ! " "I ain't!" " You is an' I'll" Smack ! Smack ! The sounds of battle emanated from the road ahead, and a dozen steps brought Dalton abreast belligerents hopelessly intermixed in the rough and tumble fashion peculiar to the personal encounters of boys and puppies. " How now ! " he called, and the rolling ball resolved itself spasmodically into one white and one black boy. " What does this brawling mean! Don't you know that the Provost can arrest you and hang you for disturbing the peace?" Madam Practices Diplomacy 117 " Fo* de Lord!" exclaimed the diminutive son of Africa. " I di'n't mean to disturb de peace, massa. Dat boy say I er nigger 'n dat he won't play wiv me," and a solemnly accusa- tive finger pointed at the panting white youth who had made the awful assertion. " Well, y' are a nigger! " retorted the white youth, aggressively. " My brother said you was and " " There, no more ! " Dalton had by now recognized the darkey as one of Madam de Laurent's house servants. " What are you doing over here, Pomp. Playing truant, eh ? " " No, sah. I wa'n't eben playin' marbles, sah," protested Pomp. " I'se Oh, Lordy ! Lordy ! it's gone ! " The last was a frightened wail and Pompey, after fumbling through his pockets, com- menced to search frantically amid the weeds that had been the seat of the late war. After much calling upon Heaven's mercy and many blubbering threats of vengeance to the unmoved author of his trouble, he unearthed a muddy, torn paper. The joy of the recovery was, n8 Clayton Halowell however, more than counterbalanced by the condition of the missive ; and the luckless mes- senger's woe found expression in several dole- ful yells. " Here, I'll fix it," Dalton said, good- naturedly. His mood was such that he would have helped a teamster in the discharge of his duties and called him a Godly comrade. " Give the thing to me, you little scoundrel, and shut that bear trap of yours ! " The note had become unsealed and was badly crumpled by boot-heels and the contortions in which its bearer had indulged. Dalton smoothed it out on his saddle bow, meaning to refold and enclose it in a fresh wrapper, a sup- ply of which were in his saddle-pocket. But he only carried out the first part of the pro- gramme for a word in the text, and then an- other, caught his eye. He did not fold the note. He gave a smothered cry, and, unheeding Pomp's howls, galloped madly down the road. Olive was submitting to Yvette's ministra- tions, her thoughts on many vexatious subjects, when the clatter of a galloping horse broke the Madam Practices Diplomacy 119 thread of her reflections. Yvette reported that it was " Monsieur Dalton," and being wiser than Monsieur Dalton, was not surprised at her Mistress' petulant annoyance. " You may leave me, Yvette," Olive said, as her visitor entered. " Well, George ? " Without answering, the man threw a soiled letter upon the dressing table. " Well ? " Olive asked again, this time omi- nously quiet. " What does that mean ? " Olive glanced at the paper. " Tis very plainly a note to Mr. Borden. Would you have me call it the Declaration of Independ- ence? How did you come by it ? Am I under surveillance from you, too ? " "From me, too," snarled Dalton. "You never told me what what you wrote in that note. I've been a dupe, a nonentity, a dummy, long enough ! I've worked in the dark as long as I intend ! Why wasn't I told that we were being shadowed and that the business was all but discovered? I want to know why I wasn't told!" I2O Clayton Halowell Daltons remarkable exhibition determined Olive upon her defense ; her eyes softened from violet to blue, and rilled with tears. " Am I never to have your trust, George ? What have I done to deserve this? " " Done ! " cried Dalton, furiously. " Is it no slight to be treated like a child I, who run the risks and " Olive lifted her head proudly. " You will be sorry for those words," she said. " My worst fault has been to keep you in ignorance of this peril. If it be wrong to scheme to save those we love, then I cry my guilt. Yet I ask no forgiveness for it." If Outraged Pride had still hotter coals to heap upon Repentant Suspicion, the coals were chilled by the complete abasement of the erst- while aggressor. It was ever the same story : the pawn's intellect, as well as his love, was overshadowed, tricked, blinded by the clever- ness of the siren. Olive wished the task were more difficult for the sport of it. " Give me my share of the burdens, Olive," Dalton entreated, humbly. " Tell me the name Madam Practices Diplomacy 121 of the man who spies upon us. I'll warrant, dearest, to cut his profit of the information." Olive hesitated, her eyes ablaze, her breast heaving. Revenge is sweet ; and the picture of Clayton glaring at her for kissing Joyce was yet too recent to have lost a particle of its sting. She need only tell the truth (as was obviously her duty to her companions and her employ- ers), and her enemy's body would decorate one of the numerous bogs in Black Swamp or rot in the pine-covered hills. Then, quite un- sought, there arose before her a clear-cut, bronzed, determined face and she decided hastily that she cared nothing for the stability of the British government or the security of her companions; at least, not enough to pay the price. " I do not know who it was, George." " Then," there was a quick return of sus- picion in the man's voice. " Then how do you know we were overheard ? " Olive had not thought of that, but her wit was more than a match for her companion. " By the vine outside the window. Oh ! you ill Clayton Halowell can look for yourself if you do me the honor to disbelieve me. Open the window and satisfy yourself." Dalton, half sheepishly, half sullenly, thrust up the window and saw that six feet below the sill the tracery of creeper was torn from the wall. " And you don't know who it was? " " How should I ? Wisteria is not more communicative to me than to other mortals." " But we can't go on this way without even knowing our enemy ! " said Dalton, with a fret- ful petulance that would have been unmanly in a child of ten. " We must go on. Besides," continued Ol- ive, " the man can't know much or we should have heard from him. He can't know you ; he can't know how we get our information; he can't know how it is sent to Sir Henry ; in fact, he can have no knowledge of any real impor- tance, or which I cannot deny. What can he do except say he heard me talking treason to M- Borden, an old, respected citizen, and an Madam Practices Diplomacy 123 unknown man ? Will Mr. Washington believe the tale, think you ? " " He might," was the pessimistic reply. " Then we'll look on that side of the fence, and suppose he does. There's a commission waiting for you in New York when you wish to change your coat or your politics. And now, perhaps, you'll run away, satisfied with the smallness of your mountain. No ! Not another word! Come to-morrow and we'll talk the matter over again, if you wish; I haven't time now." The moment her companion was gone, Olive snatched the note from its silver and satin sur- roundings, and tore it into a hundred bits. The fragments she flung on the carpet and stamped upon savagely. " I'm weak, weak; and it's suicide ! " she whispered, suddenly ceasing her energetic ac- tions. " But I can't do it I can't ! Fletcher must move. Yvette! Yvette, I say! Why don't you come and finish my dressing ! " CHAPTER IX WHEREIN FLETCHER EARNS FIFTY GUINEAS MEANWHILE Dalton was riding across the valley toward town in a maze of most disqui- eting thought. He was suddenly conscious that he really knew nothing of the working of the machine of which he was a cog and Olive the engineer. There was little danger attached to his task of copying the messages that passed through the secret order-books at Headquar- ters, but there was also little outside knowledge to be gained thereby. Heretofore he had been content to bring his finished tasks to Olive in return for a vague hope of ultimately winning her love. Now, however, he paused and asked himself several pertinent questions, and was not satisfied with his inability to answer them. During his musings he crossed the bridge over the Whippany, noting (as a man might note the position of a log or the color of a stone), a shabby old man leaning on the guard- 124 Fletcher Earns Fifty Guineas 125 wall. What he failed to notice, even care- lessly, was that this individual, after watching him enter the woods of the upland leading to the Newark Pike, started after him at a walk which was in utter variance to his apparent age. The man seemed in no hurry to overtake Dalton, and kept his distance until the village- green had been reached. Here he became a feeble old man again, but changed so bung- lingly that Dalton, conversing with a couple of artillery officers in the center of the square, saw the transition. Guilt is an inexorable task-master; and Dai- ton's cheeks blanched. He was being fol- lowed, tracked, spied upon! A mist, broken by a vision of the hangman and black shame, clouded his brain. When it had passed, his terror was in no way relieved by the sight of the old man's threadbare coat-tails disappearing into the lane behind the Presbyterian church. For an instant he lost his head and thought wildly of flight. Then calmer second thought pacified his unreasoning terror ; and in the pur- suance of the thought he bade his friends a 126 Clayton Halowell hasty " Good-day " and trotted away. At the Morris Hotel the commissary's clerk was busy checking lists of stores, but Dalton took him into a back office and talked arrant nonsense for ten long minutes. At the end of this time he had persuaded himself that his apprehensions were groundless. Yet the instant he stepped into the street he beheld the shabby man (this time kneeling beside a wall removing a burr from his shoe), and every thought of conceal- ment whirled away in a flood of mad fear. With livid cheeks, dry throat and staring, sight- less eyes he went galloping up the road, spur- ring and sweating as if every demon of Hell were at his heels. Like a child whom terror forces to fly until soothed by exhaustion he crossed the open fields to the north of the town and dashed into the woods beyond. For hours thereafter the silent pines watched over a shaken, unnerved, and childishly-excited wreck of a man. When finally Dalton reached home, the sight of his haggard face frightened Joyce. She begged to be allowed to send for a surgeon. Her brother Fletcher Earns Fifty Guineas 127 muttered shortly that he did not need a surgeon that he was tired, not ill and locked himself in his study. Meanwhile, the cause of his perturbation, after staring at the flying form of him whom he had started on so wild a career, hardened his evil, wrinkled, avaricious old face into a look of stolid contempt. " Frightened, eh ? " he commented. " Then I must start again." Retracing his steps past the Green and the church, the man trudged up the Newark Pike. A stone's throw from the entrance of Dalton's lane he scrambled over a dismantled wall and struck off toward the cottage, whose chimney tops were visible through the trees. Carefully sheltering himself from the observation of the inmates of the house, he gained the thicket of willows on the river bank, and for three mortal, chilly hours muttered curses on a booby afraid of his own shadow; stole furtive peeps at the quiet, sun-bathed cottage on the further end of the lawn ; and swept the roads within range of vision for sign of the runaway. 128 Clayton Halowell At length his patience was rewarded. And waiting only long enough to allow the bustle incident upon the master's arrival to subside, he made a long detour and crept cautiously up to a window corresponding to the one in which Joyce and Clayton were wont to exchange im- personal views of life. The room into which he peered was small and littered with papers, whips, cloaks and pipes. Prone on the center table, fear in every curve of his bowed body, his wig awry and his face buried in his hands, sat Dalton. With a shrug of his shoulders and a quick glance to make sure he was unob- served, the old man tapped on the glass. As if he had been stabbed, Dalton raised his head and clutched the pistol which lay before him on the table. There was something inde- scribably menacing in the movement and the look of absolute desperation with which his face was drawn. The would-be visitor, nothing daunted, held up his hands as a sign of peace, and motioned that the window be opened. Dalton, still holding his pistol, reluctantly, but in obedience to the pantomimic suggestion, Fletcher Earns Fifty Guineas 129 drew the fastening-pin from the sash and thrast up the window. "What do you want?" he demanded, hoarsely. " A word with you, privately." " Then say it quickly, damn you, and stop dogging me ! " " We can talk much better when I am in there with you." This suggestion fired Dalton's fright anew. " I'll shoot unless you say your say and be- gone ! " he snarled, and raised his pistol. " Even if I could explain what Madam de Laurent probably did not?" For a second the life of this applicant for admission was not worth a clipped penny. With a gasping, " Who who are you? " Dai- ton had the man through the window and was standing over him with eyes made mad by terror. " My name is Fletcher, sir," replied the pros- trate man, composedly. " We I beg you will not handle that pistol so carelessly " " What did you mean about Madam de Lau- 130 Clayton Halowell rent ? " Dalton's voice was thick and his breath was short. " Tell me what you meant, or, by God! you don't leave this room alive ! " By way of answer, Fletcher struggled to his feet and whipped out a key, which he laid on a pile of enlistment blanks on the center table. " Do you know what door that unlocks ? " he asked. Dalton felt in his pocket and pulled out a key which was the first one's counterpart, and took a dozen hurried strides before the fireless hearth, chewing his lip. " Yes, I know," he muttered, presently. " What does it mean ? " " The owner was listening at Madam de Laurent's window one night last week. This was picked up beneath the window. He must have heard something interesting, since he hung to the creeper two hours." Dalton stared stupidly at the two keys. " Hung to the creeper ! Then then this is not Mr. Borden's key ? " Fletcher's eyes glittered ; the task was easier Fletcher Earns Fifty Guineas 131 than he had dared hope. " Mr. Borden, Mr. Henrv Borden?" he exclaimed. "You think it may be his key ? Then you don't know ; you have been on the ground five months and don't know ! Oh, woman, woman ! " He burst into a shrill laugh. " Why is the field of diplomacy barred to you? Why is your use- fulness confined to the distaff and The visitor's mirth terminated abruptly, with his host's pistol grinning into his face and his host's finger trembling upon a trigger. " If you don't want a bullet in your head," the tortured man hissed, " tell what this chatter means ! " " No offense, sir. But a man in love is blind and no mistake ! " "What of the keys?" " Just that mine is the property of the man upon whom Madam has shall we say be- stowed her favor? The man is not unknown, and it is a wonder to me you've remained blind so long." " None of your cursed riddles ! " "Well, then, sir, the gallant Major Halo- 132 Clayton Halowell well and the beautiful Madam de Laurent are" " Halowell ! " interrupted Dalton. " Halo- well! Why, he" " Has been a model of propriety for quite some time. But," Fletcher leered, " he carries the key of a woman's house; and uses it, as I can swear." Dalton had run the gamut of so many emo- tions in so few hours that he was incapable of more suffering. Neither could he doubt the truth of this well-informed stranger's state- ment, every word of which coincided with con- victions he had harbored the winter past. He had never learned the identity of the rival he was certain existed; but that it was Halowell was more than probable. Indeed, he had only to look back at the time when the Major and Madam had been constant companions and he, fool that he was, a dupe fed by promises and careless scraps, to feel the absolute truth of Fletcher's words. " Have you told anyone of this ? " he asked, hoarsely, and motioned to the keys. Fletcher Earns Fifty Guineas 133 " Madam. That's all." " You you have told her ! " Dalton did not want to be convinced that Olive was shield- ing Halowell at his expense. Yet, he repeated his question vehemently, and when Fletcher nodded affirmatively, dropped his head with a groan. " Well, now you know," said Fletcher, " what are you going to do? Major Halowell doesn't let grass grow under his feet, and he'd throw pretty near anything over to keep the army together. I know him well enough to know that, and he'll act on what he saw the other night unless " the tempter paused sig- nificantly, " unless you act first forestall him, so to speak." Dalton slowly raised his bloodshot eyes. Fletcher's face was not a pleasant picture in its yellow, wrinkled cunning, but of the two faces it was vastly the stronger. Dalton fancied he detected traces of a sneer lingering on the man's thin lips. He rose and restlessly crossed to the window. Across the river the thin shred from Olive's chimney marked the preparations for 134 Clayton Halowell Mr. and Mrs. Arnold's entertainment, and the culmination of the intrigue that was to bolster his tottering seat in His Excellency's family and maintain the completeness of the spy sys- tem. Often, after the secret despatches had been written and sent, he had sat staring across the valley at that dun-colored blur, wondering hopelessly if he would ever earn his promised reward. To-day, the valley was particularly bright with the sun slanting over the hill and gilding the rows of huts, and the many flags, and the shimmering river. But the beauty of the picture failed to arouse the shivering, nerv- ous traitor, whose face was indexing each separate phase of the mental torture he was undergoing. Doubt, fear, hate, love, jealousy all were depicted as they weighed the scales against one another. Fletcher, wary old scoundrel, let the bait dangle, content to wait. "Unless I act!" Dalton muttered. " Un- less I act!" He left the window suddenly and crossed to a small hanging cupboard and poured out a glass of rum. After he had gulped the liquor Fletcher Earns Fifty Guineas 135 a light crept into his eyes that tickled his com- panion's ear with the jingle of gold. The bait had been swallowed and the hook was biting. " Well ? " Fletcher said. The simple word was both interrogative and encouraging. "Well?" " How can I ? " whispered the gudgeon. " A dozen ways, sir I don't suppose you want Mr. Borden's help? " " No, no ! The thing must be quiet and quick the quicker the better." " That's all right, then. I have a way to do the business. Madam, I understand, used to meet her lover " (Fletcher used the word delib- erately and was not disappointed at the result; Dalton winced, and his fingers convulsively clutched his sword-hilt). " Madam used to meet her lover at an inn called the ' Two Doves.' I've seen the place. It's on the Tappan road, half a mile beyond the outposts. And there's plenty of cover and little chance of interrup- tion." The calm deliberation of these details sick- ened Dalton. But it was his life or HaloweH's, 136 Clayton Halowell Olive's love to an empty existence, so he steeled his heart. " The place being settled," Fletcher con- tinued, coolly, " there's only the problem of producing our gentleman at the proper time, which is as easy as feathers. Madam's heart is broken because Mr. Halowell's neglected her and has unjust suspicions. She's even bet- ter than the heart-breaking scheme going away and would like to see Mr. Halowell once more for old-times' sake ; and won't Mr. Halo- well grant her half an hour at the old meeting- place. Nothing's easier, you see." Now that the way was cleared Dalton's lack of mental stability served to make him shrink from the execution of the plot. " That's all very nice in words," he said, querulously, moistening his lips with his tongue, " but the man must know Madam de Laurent's writing curse him ! " he added, with a fury that warmed his companion's heart. " Madam has a maid," he said. " The woman can't write." " So much the better, so much the better, Fletcher Earns Fifty Guineas 137 my dear sir. The writing of a person who can't write isn't hard to imitate." His wit so pleased himself that Fletcher burst into a cackle, which again nearly brought his career to an untimely close. Dalton leaped to his feet, eyes ablaze, pistol leveled. " By God ! I'll shoot you if you laugh ! " Fletcher cowered against his chair, and re- mained there until his companion had resumed his seat and the fire had died from his eyes. Then he ventured to explain that no offense had been intended. " Will you write the note now," he contin- ued, " or" " Who said I was going to write at all ? " snarled Dalton. " The plan was yours at- tend to the details yourself. I'll take care of the result." " Unfortunately my education, as to writing, was neglected, sir. If you won't write, why, the scheme's off. After all, you can't blame Halowell for loving Madam de Laurent, or Madam de Laurent for loving Halowell." This allusion, while its object was trans- 138 Clayton Halowell parent, brought back to Dalton the whole bit- terness of his betrayal. Scruples went by the board in a twinkling. To write would be act- ing in direct violation to every principle of cau- tion, but not to write would be to lose a golden opportunity of vengeance; and to have the note written by an outsider who might have a troublesome memory or an abnormal bump of inquisitiveness was out of the question. At that instant, as if in answer to an unspoken cry for assistance, Joyce called through the door to know if she could help George. The girl's voice, soft though it was, galvan- ized the vacillating energies of the wretched cat's-paw. With a quiver of relief and hatred, he sprang to his feet. Fletcher, reading the intention in the set lips and glowering brow, laughed. " Hide me first," he whispered. Dalton pointed to a press which occupied one corner of the room, and, as the old man slipped noiselessly within its capacious door, hastily wound a handkerchief around his right hand and admitted his sister. Fletcher Earns Fifty Guineas 139 " I was about to send for you," he said, steadying himself by a tremendous effort. " I want you to write a few notes for me. I've hurt my hand." " Not snapped another trigger on it, have you, dear?" asked Joyce, solicitously. ''Let me see it. I'll make a dandelion salve and bandage it " " No, no ! You won't do anything ; it's a trifle, I tell you ! Here, sit down and write." Several times before this Joyce had played amanuensis for her brother; and the memory of his commendation always lasted through subsequent days of neglect. So now she needed no second command to seat herself before the inkpot and quills. Dalton dictated two letters, in order to gain time for the final one. At length his thoughts grew nimble; and in a perfectly impassive voice he began a curt three lines, without date or address, so worded that the acting secretary thought them an unofficial request to a con- tractor for a " private interview " at " the usual place " the following afternoon. 140 Clayton Halowell " Thank you ; that's all for the present. I'll make shift to sign the things myself." " How odd your voice is. George," ex- claimed Joyce. " You've taken cold, and you're as white as a sheet ! You'll have small-pox or typhoid, I know, unless you let me send for Mr. McKnight." " I'm only tired, Joyce," Dalton replied, and almost pushed the girl into the hall. Fletcher, watching through a chink in the door of his hiding place, nodded contentedly two or three times. He had earned his fifty guineas very handily, he flattered himself. CHAPTER X WHEREIN IS A DEMONSTRATION OF THAT WHICH FOOLS CALL CHANCE THE afternoon following Mr. Fletcher's in- terview with Major Dalton, young Winslow brought a disconsolate face to the cottage win- dow by riding into the yard and indulging in a series of antics evidently indicative of a desire to break bones. " It's pure joy," he panted, pausing at length and bowing up at the face with a flourish of his hat. "My stars! What's wrong, Joyce? You're as blue as a Presbyterian preacher." " You'd be blue, too, if you had expected someone who had not appeared." " Making statements concerning the proba- ble thoughts of other persons is conducive to trouble," averred Winslow, and declined to ob- serve Joyce's rebuke when, without noticing the irrelevant interruption, she continued : 141 142 Clayton Halowell " 'And I've cooked a chicken pie for George, because he dotes on them, and he's gone to the Short Hills and won't be home until mid- night." " Then, come for a ride with me and forget your woes." " Conceit ! " Winslow made a grimace. "Honisoit! But you'd better come, my girl. The roads aren't worse than usual and I've wheedled old Fenton out of the afternoon and begged this nag from Captain Manderson on purpose to give you an airing. Drilling's beastly work : you've no idea how long it takes a clod-hopper to learn his left foot from his right. A fellow must have diversion occasionally." Joyce reflected. It was not yet too late for him to come " I'll have to dress." " I'll wait." " It will take " " An hour," said Winslow promptly. " I'll wait two; that doesn't scare me off. I've brought you these, too," holding up a bunch of That Which Fools Call Chance 143 carnations, " to put in your bonnie brown hair. Refuse now, if you dare." Joyce was not proof against this blandish- ment. " Well, if you insist." " I do, sweet maid decidedly I do insist ! tYou're wasting time talking ; and as my time is paid for by the government, ergo you're wast- ing the government's time, which is the gov- ernment's money. And wasting the govern- ment's money being treason punishable with death, you must certainly see that to detain me longer with inane excuses is " " Enough ! " laughed Joyce. "I fly." It was one of those perfect April afternoons when the winds are resting and the ground ex- hales all the fragrance of June. The river, dimpling in the delight of freedom from win- ter's icy grip, purred between green banks and ripening fields ; the buds on the chestnuts thrust up their tender feathery heads to drink the balmy air; the bushes, heavy with the first lading of spring finery, nodded to one another in the glee of their existence; birds, flowers, plants, every living thing, was joyful and 144 Clayton Halowell abundantly, beautifully, healthfully endowed with life. The magic of the day seized upon Joyce. When she was mounted, with Winslow a willing contestant, she raced up the lane and forgot vexation as only youth can forget. In the highway the usual concourse, civic and military, compelled sobriety and was solely responsible for the dignity with which Major Dalton's name was upheld to a knot of officers who were in the parade-ground beside Head- quarters watching cavalry recruits at drill. " There's Mr. Hamilton ! " exclaimed Joyce, as one of the group trotted across the field to- ward her. " Good-afternoon, Mr. Hamilton. Your occupation is changed, I see, since the Assembly. Sitting out dances with a girl must be tame indeed compared with this." " If it is tame I am but just learning the fact," answered the future Secretary. " Per- haps I talk too continuously on the weather and the ladies' gowns at assemblies. If that is so you certainly owe me an opinion on the rela- tive merits of yonder would-be centaurs." "A woman's opinion on the military! It That Which Fools Call Chance 145 would be monotonous flattery, I fear. Good- day, Mr. Stirling. I was telling Mr. Hamilton that I scarcely knew him as Mars." " Why, pray ? Is his usual role that of idle Apollo?" Winslow felt decidedly de trop as this badi- nage flew over his head; when, however, the re- mainder of the group abandoned their inspec- tion to cluster around his old play-fellow he was obliged to extract what comfort he could from the sound of her merry laugh and the sight of grave eyes lightening amusedly at her sal- lies. Stirling was ponderously complimentary, Baron Steuben cheerfully critical, Hamilton gaily superficial, and General Kosciusko, the fourth of the group, combatively egotistical. " Your American cavalry is good, oh ! very good for the fight," the Pole was asserting to the group in general when Winslow overcame his sullenness sufficiently to interest himself in the conversation. " But they are not not clevair on the horse. Look at those fellow they sit like wooden men like this," and he set his horse curveting while he sat rigid. " That 146 Clayton Halowell is not right. Though I try and try, I cannot change the men. They are inflexible." " But they can ride; you must admit that," Joyce interloped rebelliously. " Can they not ride, Mr. Stirling? " " I would not rashly pit my knowledge against that of General Kosciusko," replied Stirling, smiling at the girl's readiness to de- fend the fame of her countrymen. " Yet at times, I must confess, we have caused our friends the enemy some small trouble with his baggage and forage." " Ah yes ! I say you can ride'' retorted the Pole. " How many, however, can do this? " He was off like a flash, guiding his nervous little mare by the motion of his body. A dozen leaps brought him to the center of the field where the practising troop was drawn up in double platoon. He gave a short command and away whirled the hun- dred men, a wavering line of straining horses, sparkling steel and tossing manes and plumes. At the far end of the ground they turned and charged back toward the watching That Which Fools Call Chance 147 group. A length in advance rode the foreigner, pistol in hand. When half the return distance had been covered the man gave a quick flip and sent his weapon high in the air, caught it again by the butt as it descended, whirled it once more on high, regained it by the muzzle, and, rising in his stirrups, hurled it at an imaginary foe with a yell that startled even his well-trained mount. Then, with the troop thundering past, he wheeled out, a little dishevelled and flushed, but triumphant. " So ! Can your heavy American do that ? Fight I grant you, but ride ah, no." The awkward silence that followed the for- eigner's ill-chosen exhibition and words was such that even the ready Hamilton could not gracefully break. When, therefore, a lazy voice from the rear of the group said, " Your par- don, General, but they can ride like that, I feel assured," every head turned and every heart welcomed the interruption. Joyce cried, " Good, good, Mr. Halowell ! " and Lord Stirling said, " You should know if anyone, Major," and Winslow, being too young to mix in the talk 148 Clayton Halowell of his elders and superiors, breathed a sigh of thankfulness that the honor of the army rested on so goodly a specimen of its composition. " You will not deny that Mr. Revere rode well," continued Halowell, " or that General Putnam was not a master of equestrian art. Even I, poor I, have several rides to my credit." " Yes, yes, that I have admitted," Kosciusko cried. " But it is not the kind of riding we do in Poland." Though a thorough gentleman and a soldier, the Pole was apt to be intolerant; and Halowell, possessed of the Republican spirit that refuses to be awed, and feeling that he had with him the good-will of the little assemblage, replied : " And yet I think we could do the kind of riding you speak of." " A wager ! A wager ! " cried Hamilton. " A wager then," retorted Kosciusko. " Mr. Halowell shall ride my mare or at least, he shall ride her or lose the wager." " It's a fair proposition," said Halowell, " only I've an appointment this evening which I do not wish to imperil." That Which Fools Call Chance 149 " Tut, tut ; you are what you call it crawl- ing," Kosciusko laughed. " I am desirous of winning this wager and the stakes whatever the latter is to be so I shall not let you off." " But," demurred Halowell, to whom the idea of soiling his best uniform in child's-play was not alluring. " You must not ' but,' Mr. Halowell," Joyce interrupted, imperiously. " This is for the service : you are to refute a most horrible impu- tation or I shall report the treason to the Provost." " Yes, yes," Stirling cried, entering into the spirit of the occasion with a zest begotten of the dullness of a long winter of idleness. " Buts are quite out of order, Major. Mistress Dalton shall reward the victor. Shall it be a kerchief or a feather, Mistress Dalton? " " Indeed, neither. I need the one because they are scarce, and the other because the loss of it would cause ruin to my hat and conse- quent desolation to my soul." " Far be it from me to cause woe. A flower, then?" 150 Clayton Halowell " Very well, a flower and a smile to boot. My sweetest." " Now I warn you I shall win ! " cried Halo- well. " The smile makes me invincible, Gen- eral. What are the conditions of this soul- stirring and important struggle?" " Sit my mare for five minutes," replied Kosciusko, " and amuse us with a trick or two. That is all I require. They tell me, Major," he continued, airily, " that the division hospital is short of cots. You are willing to take the risk, I suppose ? " " For a flower and a smile ? Fie, sir, for the question." The exchange of mounts was quickly ef- fected. As Halowell settled himself and gath- ered up the bridle of his new mount he called, " The Guards have an excellent veterinary, sir. You are willing to take the risk, I suppose?" But the reply was lost in a vicious equine squeal. The mare's silky ears had flattened and her back had arched like that of an angry cat. Rearing, she executed a sort of equine break- down, her rider clinging to the saddle in utter That Which Fools Call Chance 151 defiance to the law of gravitation. Then, with- out allowing Halowell time to even swear, the angry brute sent her heels skyward and sprang back and forth, sideways, to and fro, in frantic efforts to unseat him. The dust rose in a long, eddying spiral which enveloped man and beast and stung Halowell's nostrils. As the struggle grew more severe his clear-cut lips hardened into a cruel, determined line, and his strong teeth clenched, and his whole body, tense with rigid muscles, became the personification of de- termination. The harder the struggle, the fiercer his resolution. Death perhaps : defeat never. There is something inspiriting in horse- breaking (as a spectacle, not as a pastime). To see the iron muscles of man and brute strain in the tussle for mastery, to watch the quick play of limb and body, suggests a duel, or a bout at wrestling. Slowly, very slowly, the dust grew less dense, allowing the forms of man and beast to become visible. The mare, though trembling and dirt-streaked, was still squealing, kicking, and balking with all the desperate perseverance 152 Clayton Halowell of her sex. But the rider had not even lost his stirrups, and the sight sent a glow to Joyce's heart. Winslow was wildly desirous of cheer- ing, a desire only suppressed out of deference to the international character of the struggle. One excitable recruit, however, in the motion- less troop at the far end of the field, forgetful of discipline, cried, " Give her the curb, Major; give her the curb ! " until his companions were obliged forcibly to suppress him. Halowell had won his wager, and won it neatly. But the impulse to do more than merely win was too strong for his vanity to resist. Allowance must be made, also, for the fact that his blood was up. He wheeled the now docile creature and proceeded to give an exhibition of rough-riding such as effectually stilled Kosci- usko's comments on the lack of that art in the American army. Now he was squarely erect in the saddle; the next moment he was bounding alongside his galloping mount. Then, swiftly mounting, he was tearing around the drill- ground with only a leg or an arm visible above the saddle. Finally, and without a break in his That Which Fools Call Chance 153 pace, he regained his seat, drew his sword, and sent the heavy blade glittering in intermittent flashes of white radiance twenty feet above the plume of his chapeau. A mis-catch meant, at the very least, a severe wound. A dozen times Joyce's secret was plain in her dilated eyes and white lips. Hamilton read it and shrugged his shoulders; Lord Stirling read it and frowned. He, in common with all who had met the girl, admired her fresh, sweet purity. If Halowell had set out deliberately But pshaw ! Halowell was hard and reckless, but he was not bad: and while his conduct was far from irreproachable in many things, it was all that could be desired in society. Stirling also had faith in the man's cleverness to keep him from jeopardizing the favor he enjoyed at Headquarters which reflection betrayed a keen insight into human character. The " Bravos " and " Well done " which greeted Halowell as he pulled up and dis- mounted, recompensed, in a measure, a lost queue-ribbon, a torn waistcoat, and a general dirtiness at which his soul rebelled. And what 154 Clayton Halowell the plaudits did not accomplish, a scarlet car- nation and an accompanying smile, did. Kosci- usko was the first to offer congratulations and beg to be taught a few of the tricks : and Stir- ling said that Mr. Lee would have tc watch his laurels. And then Baron Steuben invited the party to his quarters to partake of some old Marsala; and in the quaffing of the wine any lingering sting evaporated. The patrol at the edge of the Black Swamp touched his rusty helmet and smiled indulgently as two eager, flushed faces and a pair of strain- ing horses tore past him and pulled up a hun- dred feet beyond. " Beat ! " cried Joyce. " Oh ! no such thing ! " denied Winslow, more truthful than gallant. The girl dragged her hat from her neck to its proper position on her curls. " Who couldn't beat a girl ? " she asked with scorn. " You crow as if you had performed a feat. I'm sure Mr. Halowell would have " That Which Fools Call Chance 155 " Oh, hang Mr. Halowell ! If you are going to return to that subject I shall go back to camp." " Very well then, go back." There was a suspicion of battle in Mistress Dalton's voice. " But I shall certainly talk of whom I choose." " Have you a claim on Mr. Halowell ? " de- manded Winslow, sternly. " You are very rude. How can I go straight home?" " You can't." " Then what is the nearest way ? " " Down the road until you reach the red barn. Then turn to the right and cross the bridge: climb the four-step stile on the left of the apple- orchard you'll come to; scale a six-foot picket fence " " Richard ! " said Joyce impressively. " Rich- ard, I think I shall not speak to you for a year." And for ten minutes the threat held good, at the end of which time Peace, in the form of a rag- ged courier, came. The courier, being young and talkative, and the companions weary of the silence their estrangement entailed, the im- 156 Clayton Halowell pulse to chat was mutual. After preliminary remarks concerning the state of the roads and weather, the courier informed the twain that he was on his way to Elizabeth Town; also, that he was glad of the chance to skip one day's drill and stable-duty. Joyce replied politely that she was sure he must be glad; and Winslow re- marked moodily that he had better take exercise while he could, as there seemed no prospect of chasing red-coats until June. This remark naturally brought forth an earnest dissertation by the trooper on the folly of inactivity, and an agreement of the doctrine (and a few observa- tions relative to Congress' squabbling and the tardiness of the French fleet in beginning their campaign) by Winslow. As, however, the combined age of both critics barely reached forty, and they both displayed a truly beautiful disregard for facts and conditions, their con- versation is scarcely worth recording. It is suf- ficient to say in connection therewith that it gave Joyce a peep into the deep well of her com- panion's wisdom and made her properly ashamed of having allowed him to see her child- That Which Fools Call Chance 157 ishly angry. When the two left the orderly and turned homeward, the cloud which had marred their sun had vanished. Now, though resolutions are commendable, conditions are often perverse an aphorism the truth of which Joyce and Winslow discovered before they were fairly started on the return trot. Woodland paths, carpeted with brow r n pine-needles and soft shadows, and fringed with shimmering green laurel, while picturesque, are not conducive to the choosing of the shortest routes and the speediest gaits. Then there was a flower to be plucked here, and a spray of blossoms to be broken there, until by the time the last unexpected twist had been turned and the last senseless hill struggled up and the river reached, the land was dark with the shadow of dusk. Their road had brought them to the slope of a steep hill, below which stretched the whole valley, scattered through with farms and resi- dences, flaming west windows and long straight pencils of purple smoke. Far away, girt by slopes of gilded foliage, were the cantonments. 158 Clayton Halowell Further south, perched upon Mount Kemble's long crest, glistened the village. Beyond, frowning down upon town and camp, were the unfinished ramparts of the fort which Washing- ton had ordered his idle army to build, and which the men had named (aptly as regards its military usefulness) Fort Nonsense. The scene was like the painting of some cunning artist, only a thousand times warmer and more beauti- fully-tinted than art could have reproduced it. " Isn't it beautiful ! " exclaimed Joyce, softly. " Very," replied Winslow. " Very beautiful. Only I'm thinking more of supper and a stable than Nature and Beauty." " Have you no soul, Dick ! I suppose, though," with a wry face, " we really should be home." " Not necessarily," Winslow replied, cheer- fully. Indeed, he did not seem cast down at the prospect of an enforced halt and, perhaps, a tete-a-tete supper with Joyce. " I think you care nothing of what people will say. To think of a girl gallivanting through the country at this hour ! And with a That Which Fools Call Chance 159 man! And Madam Knox the gossip she is. What will we do, Dick?" " Sup," said Dick. And, in reply to Joyce's horror, " Why not, please ? It's dark now and we are alone. So as well be killed for the sheep, I say. There's a fine place up the hill further, where the sups are worth supping and the view worth viewing. Think of the brutes, too. If you are inhuman enough to ride them six miles in their present condition I, for one, shall con- fess to sad disappointment. A girl who will pretend heartbroken grief over every hurt bee she finds" " You're a fraud ! " declared Joyce. " You led me into this trap purposely ! " " Slander evil slander, mistress. The ac- cusation makes me shudder the crime is too heinous for my young brain to have hatched. But you'll allow we must eat and bait the nags ; and the place whereof I was speaking (it is known by the euphonious appellation of ' Two Doves ') is as good as any place where one pays gold to ruin one's digestion and glander one's horse." 160 Clayton Halowell "George may return and need me," de- murred Joyce. Her firmness, however, was plainly tottering. " The excuse is too trivial. Enough. You need make no objection to my ruling. Joyce, we sup at the ' Two Doves.' " The hostelry was a rambling, shambling, brick-and-stone affair, boasting an out-of-the- world air and an approach through half a mile of quiet woodland. The door was perpetually open and blocked by the huge bulk of Mine Host Peters. To the right of the hall (which was broad, with the stairs making a double turn from a landing half way up) was the long, sanded tap-room, bright with polished crocks and white tables. To the left were numerous doors, each numbered in black paint and open- ing into rooms large enough to serve dinner tete-a-tete. A narrow passage led to the kitchen and, beyond, the yard and stables. Above stairs the arrangements were practi- cally the same, with a long room for banquets and the small ones as below. It was into one of the latter that Winslow led his companion. That Which Fools Call Chance 161 " Sambo, my man," he said to the black at- tendant, " Sambo, dinner. And if King George comes to beg my attendance at court, tell him I'll not stir until after coffee." CHAPTER XI WHEREIN HALOWELL MEETS A MASKED MAN CLAYTON watched Joyce and Winslow race away from Baron Steuben's quarters with a queer mixture of content and jealousy tugging at his heart the former because of the several pretty speeches of which he had been the recipi- ent, and the latter because of the gay camarad- erie between the girl and her companion. Even a certain piece of paper in his pocket, while it was gratifying to his vanity, was not recom- pense for the loss of an afternoon ride in the hills with Joyce, nor the torture of being obliged to stand aside like a bumpkin while a slip of an ensign mounted her by right of escort. He cursed the importunity of the note, the " Two Doves," Olive, himself, Winslow, and every-? thing that had a bearing, fancied or otherwise, upon his unhappiness, and rode gloomily away. There was only a glimmer of light in the west 162 Halowell Meets a Masked Man 163 when, after evening parade, he left his hut and rode into the Tappan road. A keen wind had sprung from the north and was rustling the last- year's leaves and whispering through the forest- burdened slopes which slid down upon either side of the highway. He muffled his cloak closer and fell to pondering Olive's request. Had she decided to spare him the unpleasantness of his self-imposed task, or had she been frightened by his discovery of the man in the swamp? Neither solution seemed probable so he settled his cravat with a conceit as unconscious as it was ingenuous. Man's love is often close akin to gratified vanity: and though Major Halowell was ready to swear that his motives in granting the desired interview were purely disinterested and patriotic, he could not prevent a pleased smile from pulling at the corners of his mouth. Long before his reflections on the subjects of Conquest and Self had lost their pristine sweetness he had passed the limits of camp and was trotting in the dark loneliness of the coun- try road. Except for an occasional patrol or be- lated pedestrian the highway was deserted. Soon 164 Clayton Halowell even these reminders of civilization ceased ; and by the time the lights of the " Two Doves " be- came visible, blinking high up amid a back- ground of clouds and foliage, the road, as well as the country-side, was as solitary as the Neu- tral Ground or a county after a visitation by Colonel Tarleton. The approach to the inn lay, as before men- tioned, through a stretch of almost primeval for- est the Lovers' Lane of Youth, the Bugaboo of Too-Well-Dined. With the first line of shrubbery Halowell, in habitual and totally un- conscious caution, cast aside theorization and became a practical soldier, to whom a country not open to the most superficial glance is a country unsafe for the body. He was half through the maze of vegetation, and a spot of light painted upon the further darkness was heralding the approach of the open when (though without a break in his pace) he cocked his ear forward. Nothing in the rustle and sough of leaf and limb was suspicious Hoot! Hoot! Hoot! Halowell Meets a Masked Man 165 A family of owls was disagreeing and caus- ing Mr. Halowell to softly draw his pistols from the holsters and slip them into his belt. The exchange had no more than been effected when the underbrush waved and a single horseman detached himself from a clump of alders and moved across the road. There could be no mistaking the man's mis- sion : the time, the place, the manner of his ap- pearance were all eloquent of sinister motives. Halowell drew up sharply, calculated the chances of a rush, decided they were poor at present, and inquired the meaning of the ob- struction of the Republic's highway. " The right of might," was the gruff reply. " Hm ! May I inquire also, sir, why you dis- guise your voice? " The horseman ignored the irrelevant inquiry. " We want you to come with us," said he by which command it may be seen that the bur- den of the ambush as originally planned had proven too great for its originator's weak shoulders. Though all his plans had been laid for quick work, his lack of mental stability (a 1 66 Clayton Halo well serious defect in one who contemplates a crime) was preventing him from risking his name, his hopes of Olive's hand, his very life, on the one throw. He had argued to himself over and again during the long hour preceding the pros- pective victim's appearance that Borden would know better than he how to deal with the situation. Once captured, the prisoner could be either used or put away without the witness of a dozen pairs of eyes and the irremediable in- crimination of George Dalton, Esquire. He said again, " We want you to come with us," and hoped Borden would approve his plan when he brought the prisoner to him. " Want me to go with you ? " said Halowell. " Who the devil do you think I am the pay- master? " " I know who you are, damn you ! Will you come quietly, or must we " Something in the man's voice prompted Halowell to glance over his shoulder. He caught the glint of a couple of carbines pointed at his back, heard the bushes on either side of the narrow road swaying in a most suspicious Halowell Meets a Masked Man 167 manner, and decided it was time to act. In a flash he had raised his pistol and fired at the figure in the road. Then, with the man's angry curse ringing in his ears, and the bang, bang, bang of a pursuing volley ripping through the evening silence, he spurred for dear life, crouch- ing over his pommel to escape the bullets, and praying fervently that Bucephalus stand the pace. Of course this was Olive's war : and he had walked into the trap with the rawness of a school-boy! The worst these fellows could do would be too small a punishment for his simplicity. He was out of the road by now and charging up a stretch of open road. It was heavy going ; and when Bucephalus stumbled he attributed the thing to the mud and grade. When, how- ever, the horse began to groan and miss his footing, the master loosened his sword and, in view of the gravity of the situation, let the foundering nag guide himself and looked back. The nearest pursuer was the man of the alders, and was not half a rod distant. Halowell raised his second pistol and lowered it again. 1 68 Clayton Halowell To be able to fire last was an advantage too enormous to throw away, even though the chances were overwhelmingly great that this unpleasant neighbor would send a bullet into his back the moment he turned. And presently the moment and the bullet came and flipped Halowell's hat into the road and decided him, incontinently, upon bringing his own weapon into play. But a foundering horse, galloping, makes a miserable gun platform.. Though the fugitive turned squarely in his saddle (taking huge risks of a broken neck thereby), his bullet not only failed to slacken his pursuer's career, but caused the man to deliberately raise his second pistol. This was more than Halowell could endure. To be shot at as dispassionately as if he were a practice-dummy or a target roused every com- bative instinct within him. With a savage determination to end the matter then and there he pulled up. The move was so unexpected that it ruined his pursuer's aim. And before the man could check his horse he was abreast his infuriated quarry and being gripped by two The fugitive turned squarely in his saddle." Page 168. Halowell Meets a Masked Man 169 particularly muscular hands. Halowell could not spare the time nor the energy to tear away the oval of silk which masked the man's eyes and forehead. But he did the next best thing plucked the fellow from his saddle and flung him bodily, mask and all, over the stone wall that bordered the road. And if the splash that followed the action were evidence, the invol- untary flight ended in that which must have cooled the highwayman's ardor. The whole affair parley, flight, pursuit, and struggle had been the work of less time than is required in the telling. " And now for the other gentlemen," Halo- well muttered grimly, unsheathing his sword and wrapping the leather thong around his wrist. " They'll have a mark or two to remem- ber the departed Oh ho ! So it has come ! " Bucephalus stumbled and recovered; stum- bled again ; and crashed forward on his muzzle. Several of the men behind raised a shout, and Halowell felt that they could well afford to exult. CHAPTER XII WHEREIN WINSLOVV PROVES HIS METTLE AND HALOWELL HAS AN UNPLEASANT EXPERI- ENCE. "WHAT is that, Dick? There, there's another ! " Joyce laid down her fork and listened to a flurry of carbine reports crashing out in the val- ley below, and a score of answering shots rat- tling back in the direction of the camp. The cause of the former is known : the latter were the picket signals. And so rapidly did they leap from post to post that, several minutes be- fore Dalton was floundering in the ditch and his adversary preparing to show his teeth, regi- ments were stumbling sleepily into rank, and the guards at the Ford House were crouching behind windows and barricades, carbines loaded, eyes alert, prepared to resist the threat- ened attack. It was the knowledge of this sys- 170 Winslow Proves His Mettle 171 tern, and the certainty of the prompt appear- ance of a scouting-party, that made the as- sassins press their quarry so boldly. The prolonged firing caused Winslow to pause with a spoonful of dessert midway to his mouth. Then, with a degree of coolness quite in accord with one of his veteran experience, he remarked that it could be " nothing worth leaving this pudding for; probably some fel- lows running the sentinels, as we'll have to do to get back," and dismissed the incident. Not so his companion. " Do you mean to say," she began, in wrathful trepidation, " that I'll have to be shot at when I start home ? Rich- ard Winslow ! How could you ! " Richard, however, was not listening to Joyce, but rather to the rapid clatter of hoofs that had followed the dying away of the uproar in the valley. " By George ! Something is going on down there ! " exclaimed the boy, and was out on the balcony peering into the darkness before his companion could object to his reckless ex- posure. The whole household, from Peters to 172 Clayton Halowell the scullery maids and the pot-boy, were con- gregated in the hall door. " Stay where you are, Joyce; I'll be back directly," he called as he reentered, and dashed from the room. He had barely reached the head of the stairs when the rapid stamp of boots sounded in the flagged yard, and the group at the door scat- tered right and left. A man, bleeding, panting and sweaty, stumbled into the hall, trailing a bloody sabre in his right hand. He slammed the door (throwing his weight against it as if expecting an immediate attack) and felt for the bolt with his free hand. Some of the maids screamed that the Hessians were coming and the rest hid their heads in their aprons and howled lustily. "For the Lord's sake! What to do, Mr. Halowell ? " Peters cried, despairingly. "There'll be hell to pay in a few minutes, Peters, you fat rascal. Hello, Winslow ! " as the youth descended the stairs three at a time, so startling the pot-boy that he added his voice to the chorus of invocations for safety. " Don't ask the trouble, there's a good fellow, but see Winslow Proves His Mettle 173 if the back door is locked it's at the end of that hall to the right. Peters, keep those fools of yours quiet!" he commanded. "Well?" as Winslow reappeared. " Everything right? " The cornet saluted unconsciously and re- ported all closed in the rear. " They'll be in at the windows, of course," Halo well said, reflectively. " We can't help that, but" " In through the windows ! " screamed Peters. " In through the windows, forsooth ! I'm a ruined man ! " Halowell tossed a coin to the frightened Boniface. " That's for my share of the ball. I pay in advance, you see, even though I didn't seek the fun. And here come our gentlemen," as the tramp of horses sounded above the wail- ing of the women. " I'm going into the tap- room, Peters. Mind this door doesn't open : if it does you'll be wearing a halo before you've had time to ponder your manifold sins and wickednesses," with which cheerfully-delivered observation the Major stalked into the public, knocked out the lights with his sword, and 174 Clayton Halowell stretched himself full length before the window overlooking the yard. A group of men had ridden in from the road and dismounted. One of the invaders was on the well-combing issuing directions and orders. A lantern, swung to the sign board directly above the throng, yellowed the mass of ragged hats and unkempt faces, and glistened upon the leader's mask and dripping garments. Halowell pensively mopped a scratch on his cheek and wondered why the man wore a false beard in addition to his mask; Winslow, peering over the Major's shoulder, wondered what the trouble was about. "Who are they?" he whispered presently. Halowell laughed, an unpleasant, grating laugh which made his companion shiver. " I can't say, lad," said he. " But I'll find out presently, I can assure you Hm! They're preparing some deviltry. Have you pistols ? " The weapons were in the hall and Winslow ran to fetch them. When he returned it was to find the Major swearing over a newly-discov- ered spot on his waistcoat, and the men in the yard separating into knots of two and three and Winslow Proves His Mettle 175 disappearing around the corners of the house. This was the boy's first experience of a night attack, an experience, by the way, which is the most trying a soldier has to gain. It never occurred to him, however, to save his skin by refusing to mix in the quarrel the very cause of which he was supremely ignorant : and Halo- well, though he knew that men desperate enough to assault a house would not stop at one throat more or less, never so much as thought of suggesting the step. His own code of honor so absolutely precluded the abandonment of a comrade that he accepted the boy's assistance as a matter of course. He gave a last look into the yard, picked up his sword, and led the way back to the hall (from whence the noisy serv- ants had vanished) and up the stairs to the broad landing midway in the flight. At the rear of this landing was a door com- municating with the back stairs. Winslow, with a pistol and a short injunction to allow no one to pass him and so turn the position, was assigned this post. Not without a peculiar dry- ness in his throat did the boy pass from the 176 Clayton Halowell companionship of his unconcerned superior to the solitude and doubts of his trust. Halowell, on the contrary, feeling secure from attack in the rear, seated himself on a step of the first flight of stairs and became deeply engaged in removing Jersey mud from his uniform. It was at this stage of the proceedings that Joyce, unable to remain confined longer during the mysterious preparations she both saw and heard, and at a loss to account for the continued absence of her escort (who, it must be con- fessed, had completely forgotten his charge), appeared at the head of the stairs. Halowell heard the rustle of a skirt and looking up, be- held a flower-like, perplexed little face that, at sight of him, broke into a smile of pleased surprise. " Mr. Halowell ! and why all these war-like preparations ? " cried the vision. " And what have you done with Dick, my recreant knight ? " Then, seeing something in the man's stern eyes, " Is there really trouble ? " she whispered. "There really is," replied the Major, and Winslow Proves His Mettle 177 wished heartily he could say otherwise. The girl's presence gave an unexpected and un- pleasant twist to the situation. If the ruffians bested Winslow and himself and, drunk with the passion which resistance and the sight of blood inflames in their kind, found the girl He did not finish the thought but cursed the clear patch behind the stable which had be- trayed him to the enemy. " Allow me to sug- gest," he went on, ascending to her, " that you retire to one of the rooms. I have stirred up a hornets' nest and am like to have the swarm about my ears soon." "You You are going to fight?" Joyce asked, faintly. " Not fight only brush aside the hornets. There's nothing to be alarmed at, I assure you, if you will stay in your room and keep very quiet." The sudden whitening of the girl's lips may have been personal fear, or it may have been impersonal apprehension. She turned away, and her companion, accepting the action as a dismissal, abruptly descended the steps he had 178 Clayton Halo well ascended to be near her. It was quite evident his safety was of no moment to the girl. And why should he care if it were not ! Joyce, meanwhile, had turned and was watching Halowell. The tallow dip in the hall lit his clean-lipped, determined mouth, and picked little jewels of brightness in the corners of his eyes. He was so strong, so confident, so certain of himself, that danger or fear did not seem a condition to be thought of in his presence. " You will be careful ? " the girl said, timidly. " I Is there nothing I can do ride for help or, or anything? " " Nothing, thank you," replied Halowell. And as his voice was coldly impassive Joyce, with a puzzled sigh, reentered the supper room and closed the door. Scarcely had the girl disappeared when a pistol banged and a shred of smoke trailed from the door leading to Winslow's position. At the same instant a stream of lowering, in- flamed, unshaven faces debouched from the kitchen passage and surged toward the front Winslow Proves His Mettle 179 stairs. With no appearance of hurry Halowell laid aside his sword, raised his pistol, and snap- ped the trigger. A huge, red-haired, red-nosed fellow with one foot on the stair clapped both hands to his side and pitched forward, his scream being a horrible but logical echo to the report of the pistol. Disciplined troops or hon- est men would never have been stayed by so trivial a matter as one death. But jail-birds and gutter-pickings are poor stuff at best, and the courage of this particular batch oozed away at sight of the twitching body of their comrade and the coolly prepared man who had sent him to his doom. Halowell took advantage of their wavering to rise and lean against the ban- nisters; and his careless disdain did as much as his shot to further disconcert them. " One moment before we begin," he called. He noticed that not a man possessed a pistol and made a shrewd guess that their employer had not dared to arm them with so dangerously impersonal a class of weapon. " I presume I am at liberty to inquire the cause of this en- thusiastic desire for closer acquaintance with i8o Clayton Halowell me ? It's a natural question, I think, don't you ? you in the mask and prompted by pardon- able curiosity? " The man addressed shrank nervously into the door of the public. The next instant he rallied and cried with an oath. " Never mind his damned airs, men ! There are only two of them ! " which seemed a weighty argument, for without much ado the mass of villainy made a forward rush and started pell-mell up the stairs. " Well, if I must, I must." Halowell hurled his useless pistol at the head of the foremost man and stepped briskly to the edge of the landing. As he went to guard he heard a clash in the back stair and knew that Winslow was engaged. He seldom misjudged a man; and in spite of the extreme youth of his co-defend- ant he felt confident that he need not worry for the outcome of that particular fracas. And then the nearness of his own stream of jostling, yelling, disorderly assailants forced him to for- get the young cornet for the time being. The first victim of his sword was a lean, tal- Winslow Proves His Mettle 181 low-faced ragamuffin who literally spit himself, and rolled backward cursing; the next was an equally pleasant-appearing individual who sported but one eye and who, after a ridiculous attempt at fencing, shrank away, coughing and spitting with a hole in his chest. But the men's blood was warmed by now and they came on bravely enough, though, hampered by their own numbers and the cramped width of the stairs, and opposed to a cool headand iron wrist, they made small headway. After several min- utes of hard fighting this fact became apparent to several of the rear-rankers, who decided that their cause could be greatly advanced if they stood in the hall below, out of the way of their comrades. Two men nearer front were pres- ently inspired with a similar idea and wriggled hurriedly over the bannisters. Then the en- lightenment became general; and Clayton was presently wiping his sword on a cloak left be- hind in an abrupt departure, the acknowledged and coolly complacent victor of the scrim- mage. His period of unmolested triumph was, how- 1 82 Clayton Halowell ever, short. Scarcely had he made sure of the safety of his companion and sheathed his weapon (which latter act was a contemptuous insult to the ruffians cursing at him from be- low), when an ale-mug, and then another and another, whizzed past his head and smashed on the wall behind. To meet this novel method of warfare he stretched himself tranquilly on the first step of the upper portion of the stairs. Occasionally bits of the broken crockery show- ered his boots, but beyond scratching the leather they were of no avail toward dislodging him. " Do you need me, Mr. Halowell ? " Wins- low called, alarmed at the racket of the break- ing mugs. " No, thanks. The gentlemen, like a famous king, marched up to me, and marched down again. Now they are wasting Peters's mugs and their own valuable time in a harmless amusement. Did you have much trouble, lad?" " Only two came," was the rueful reply. " Know who the fellows are yet? " Winslow Proves His Mettle 183 " Not I (Nay, my good friend in the Jo- seph coat, no nearer) Candidates for Johnny Hangman, I expect. Sink me! but I think they're going! Surely you cannot stop so soon gentlemen. Why, you are four, five seven, and we are two. To confess your- self beaten will disgrace American manhood; and the girls will never look at you again never." He laughed and smoothed his frill daintily. Then, in wanton recklessness, he resumed. " That masked gentleman you who popped at me so systematically out on the road (Yes, you I mean!) suppose we try a go, just to keep the company amused. You won't? Then go away please, and call off your friends : I'm hungry and you keep me from dining. Chut ! Don't scowl at me, you tow-headed, cabbage- eater in the corner ! I've a mind to come down and bundle you into the horse-trough. And drop that platter or I'll do more than duck you ! " So tremendous is the weight of moral cour- age that the fellow addressed actually dropped 184 Clayton Halowell the missile he was in the act of throwing. And his action was a clear index to his comrades' state of mind. Like curs, they were thoroughly cowed by a few kicks a fact which the masked leader discovered when, gliding among them, he whispered, exhorted, and threatened, and, beyond a scowl or an uncertain shake of the head, received no encouragement to whatever proposal he was making. Baffled and raging, the man returned to the foot of the stairs. To be so near the quarry and be balked of it was more than he could swallow. Besides, though a moral, Dalton was not a physical coward, and he had staked too much on this throw to lose. " Well ? " Clayton said, rising and bowing ironically. "Are you considering my invita- tion, sir, or admiring the cut of my waistcoat? So ho ! You're going to try your hand after all ! Welcome." Dalton's eyes were fixed on Halowell's blade with the intensity of a practised fencer, as, step by step, he ascended the stairs. He evidently expected to be obliged to fight his way to the Winslow Proves His Mettle 185 landing; but his opponent, carelessly disdain- ing to use the advantage of position, waited un- til his footing was as secure as his own. During the first passes Halowell discovered that he was opposed to a skillful fencer. " I'll have to mind my play, I see," he remarked, as his opponent flashed beneath his guard and brought a dribble of blood to his shirt front. " You'll have to mind more than your play ! " the man muttered, and there was such intense hatred in his voice that Halowell was startled. Until that instant he had sup- posed the men merely Olive's paid assassins, a supposition, however, which the man's passion incontinently shattered. Yet if they were not in Olive's pay, who were they? He ran over his list of enemies but could think of no one who would risk his neck for the sake of avenging an off-hand slight. Duke, of Muhlenberg's, was not above trying a shot from behind a fence; but Duke would never go in for an expensive attacking force. Coughlin, of the Fifth New York, had sworn to get even for an arrest he had been pleased to lay to Major Halowell ; but 1 86 Clayton Halowell Coughlin could not use his sword as well as a cat could use a poker. The fellows might be Halowell smiled at the thought they might be the hirelings of some jealous flame of Olive's. At any rate, the last was not an im- probable nor an objectionable solution to the problem, and he accepted it. In pursuance of a determination to neglect nothing that could contribute to his advance- ment, Halowell had practised untiringly with the sword. Many a hard day's march or harder fight had been topped by an hour with the foils. Inclement weather, fatigue, even sickness, were sunk during these lessons ; noth- ing short of the absence of himself or the French veteran whom he had impressed as in- structor delayed them. Soon there came a time when the instructor could teach nothing more. Yet Halowell, cunning swordsman though he was, found his present adversary fully his equal. In technique, in agility, in de- fense and offense, the man was his peer. And after five minutes of furious fighting he began to think less of pretty sword-play than of a Winslow Proves His Mettle 187 whole skin. Some of the boldest of the men, too, were creeping up the stairs; and the sud- den clashing on the back stairs told of the fight renewed there. The situation was desperate and required a desperate remedy. And a desperate remedy was applied. Reckless of consequences, utterly disregarding every rule of swordmanship, Halowell took the bull by the horns. Flinging guard to the winds he put all his strength and faith in one lunge in carte. Rapid as had been the action, Dalton was prepared. Though for only the fraction of a second was Halowell uncovered, the fraction was sufficient for a strip of steel to dart for- ward, flashing like a streak of white fire, and bite. A thrill of pain numbed Halowell's arm. Down clattered his sword, a useless weight dangling to his wrist. A red mist wavered be- fore his eyes and blotted the impassive mask and beard from his vision. He tried to raise his weapon to guard ; failed absolutely ; and turned his chest defiantly to his conqueror, who was waving back his valiant following, that the 1 88 Clayton Halowell sweetness of the final thrust might not be marred. Then, upon the tense silence was flung the patter of steps and a woman's scream. " Murdered ! " gasped Joyce, her arms flung out to intercept the descending sword, her eyes fierce as a tigress. " Murderer! " If it had been the Fiend himself who had thus appeared Dalton could not have shrunk further. His sword indeed, remained raised, but his shaking hand and chalky lips made the pose a mockery. " Murdered ! " gasped Joyce again. The sound of her voice, muffled yet horribly shrill, cleared Halowell's senses as a pail of water steadies a drunken man. Seeing Dalton's up- raised sword and the girl's attitude (which, to his unsteady vision, seemed one of defense), he gave a roar and sprang full at the man's throat. Taken by surprise and completely unnerved by his sister's presence, Dalton was helpless to this new assault. Halowell had him on the floor and was shaking him savagely before one of the ruffians on the stairs could move to in- Murdered! gasped Joyce." Page 188. Winslow Proves His Mettle 189 terfere. And before they could do more than move the tramp of a horse changed the tenor of their thoughts. With frightened curses, and while Halowell was yet beating their prostrate employer, they tumbled down the stairs, crowded into the kitchen-hall, and vanished precipitously. " It's the watch ! " cried Joyce hysterically. " It's the watch, Mr. Halowell ! " But Clayton paid not the slightest heed to the cheering news. He had suddenly ceased his irrational method of warfare and was bending over his prisoner in such a way as to hide the man's face. " Mistress Dalton, go up stairs," he com- manded, without looking around. " Go up stairs and shut yourself in your room." " May I not" " Please go." There was something in the tone of the re- quest that commanded obedience. When, however, the girl reached the top of the stairs, feminine curiosity prompted her to look back. She saw Halowell pull his opponent to his feet, 190 Clayton Halowell fasten the beard which had become unhooked from the man's mask, and half lead, half shove the fellow through the door to the back stairs. An instant later Winslow appeared, his face expressive of the most intense amazement. " Turn to the left at the foot of the stairs and run run" were the directions Clayton hissed into an almost deaf ear, when his sub- ordinate had reluctantly obeyed his command and left him alone with his captive. " For God's sake keep clear of the patrol." " Here's his sword," was Winslow's greet- ing when he returned to the front landing. " It's regulation size and finish. I wonder " " Give it to me," said Halowell and snatched the weapon roughly and flung it behind the door just as the lieutenant of the watch stamped into the hall. When the officer was gone he took the blade from its hiding place and slipped it into his boot. On the homeward road the little party was very quiet. Joyce was still too shaken to be loquacious; Winslow was deriving huge de- light in re-fighting the brawl; and Halowell Winslow Proves His Mettle 191 was trying (and succeeding ill) to forget the picture of a wavering underlip and two hopeless eyes. The lights of the camp were within sight when he broke the silence. " I shall ask you both to regard this affair as secret," he said, gravely. " Peters will not speak of it for the reputation of his house. For the same reason we can keep silent." " Then it was someone you knew ? " asked Joyce, in an awestruck voice. Halowell nodded. CHAPTER XIII WHEREIN ARE PROPOUNDED SEVERAL PERTI- NENT QUESTIONS THE embroidery lay idle and Joyce's face, framed by the scarlet and green of the gerani- ums, was the picture of contrition and sorrow. " George was up waiting for me, so white and worried; and this morning he was taken with the fever, the result of serious mental strain, Dr. Knight says. And now, to cap all, His Excellency is bent on disgracing him. I I'm afraid he'll never get well." Halowell looked up quickly, then returned to the scrutiny of his boot-tips. " There's no disgrace in being assigned to the line," he said, evenly, " when there prom- ises to be fighting." " I'm afraid George thinks differently." The visitor made no reply to this statement, and Joyce asked, " Does your shoulder pain ? " solicitously. 192 Pertinent Questions are Propounded 193 " No, thank you." Major Halowell wel- comed the change of topic, for he found it dif- ficult to sympathize in Mr. Dalton's troubles. " The surgeons kept me against all sense. I gave them the slip as soon as I could. You know we break camp soon." " Yes, I know. George is making arrange- ments for me to return to Philadelphia with Mrs. Arnold." " Clinton has sworn to end the rebellion be- fore fall." Halowell snarled a skein of silk which he picked from the girl's lap with his left hand (his right was in a sling). After what had happened at the inn he felt embold- ened to ask a question, but was experiencing a vast difficulty in selecting words suitable to the occasion. " He has been heavily reinforced too, the scouts report," he said, aimlessly. " Which will make his defeat the more glori- ous." " Perhaps." " Why such a solemn word ? Is the ' scratch ' deep, or are you planning some fearful deed ? " " Manv of us will have to match these new 194 Clayton Halowell troops and come out the worse for the encounter." Whether it is that a woman possesses a bet- ter knowledge of the signs of masculine weak- ness than is usually credited to her, or is simply loth to lose a slave in the less romantic ap- pendage of a fiance, I will not venture to say. But certainly the average woman exhausts all her arts in an effort to stave off a man's dec- laration of love (stave off, you understand, not crush). Perhaps the cause of the thing is the innate gambling instinct which is bred in us all though even for that hazard I will not stand. Joyce, as her sisters had done before her, took instant alarm at something in her vis- itor's manner and began to talk fast and at ran- dom; and though Halowell struggled heroi- cally to steer the conversation to the port he wished it to reach, his efforts were dishearten- ingly unsuccessful. Every lead which could bring the episode of the " Two Doves " upper- most was straightway blocked, and for fully twenty minutes he was obliged to relate the details of a recent trip to West Point, discuss Pertinent Questions are Propounded 195 the relative beauties of green and pink silk, listen to comments on the effect of the sun upon the river, all to the detriment of his heart ac- tion. At length, however, Joyce herself gave him the opening he sought, and he was not slow in availing himself of it. " Have you taken any steps toward discover- ing the men who attacked you the other night?" she asked, when every irrelevant sub- ject her mind could fasten upon had been threshed and an ominous silence had settled upon her companion. Halo well gravely completed the skein's ruin before answering. He saw his chance, but re- quired time to mass his courage for the as- sault. When finally he spoke, it was extempo- raneously and not in the language he had re- hearsed and pondered upon. " I have not tried to find them out," he said softly, " for they did me a service I can never repay." He reached out and laid his brown, sinewy hand upon the girl's slender one. " Will you not make me their eternal debtor, Joyce, dearest?" 196 Clayton Halowell Down went the work, the precious work, an unnoticed heap of linen and silks. The girl rose and stood facing her visitor, one hand on the window-sill, the other on her heaving breast. " I I did not mean," Halowell began hur- riedly, and rose also, his cheeks white as paper. " I I did not mean I trust you will pardon But I had hoped " " Clayton ! " A pair of purple eyes, twin stars of tender- ness, and a pair of scarlet lips, wreathed half in smiles, were glowing up at Halowell. The next instant the eyes were hidden and the lips were kissing and being kissed. And the world, for two individuals, had narrowed to one sunny, flower-bright room and became surpassingly lovely. " Sweetheart," Halowell whispered. Joyce breathed a little sigh of content and nestled closer. " Call me sweetheart again ; it sounds so beautiful. I can't believe you mean it for me." " It has been your name to me, dearest, since the Sunday you received a good-for-nothing Pertinent Questions are Propounded 197 Major of Infantry who had only a letter from George to recommend him to your grace." " Only a letter to recommend him? Let this be the answer to your calumny," and Joyce stood on tiptoe and kissed Halowell, and was promptly imprisoned and made to repay the kiss at a usurious interest. " You don't know that I went to sleep that night with the name of the good-for-nothing Major of Infantry on my lips, and with the image of the good-for- nothing Major of Infantry in my heart. The image stayed and stayed in my heart, Clayton, and grew until, were I to show you the heart, you would imagine yourself before a mirror." A pink end of ear was all that was visible at the end of the confession. To Halowell the morsel of flesh embodied all that was worth life. Had ever man been so blessed! Had ever sun been brighter, or a river more dimpled, or slopes of foliage more sparkling? " Had we not better tell George ? " said Joyce presently. " He'll be so happy." Halowell would have " told " the Shah of Persia had the starry-eyed maid before him so 198 Clayton Halowell commanded. Yet, notwithstanding the expan- sive geniality with which his happiness had en- dowed him, the moment following Joyce's opening of the sick-chamber door was one of intense awkwardness. Dalton's ghastly face, curtained with sullen defiance to hide its real fright, was anything but an inviting spec- tacle. Viewing it, Halowell could think only of an unclaimed sword in a corner of his hut, and could express only a limited sympathy for the invalid. Joyce jumped into the breach, unconsciously of course, by running to the bed and burying her head in an end of the pillow. " George dear, Mr. Hal Clayton has some- thing to tell you." An emphasis on the Chris- tian name thrilled one of her hearers and caused the other to steady his nether lip by a perceptible effort. " Tell him, Clayton." Thus admonished Clayton laconically told the brother that he had asked Joyce to be his wife. To the news the sick man offered neither comment nor congratulation. Instead, he asked Joyce to leave him with Mr. Halowell, and Pertinent Questions are Propounded 199 watched the girl cross the room and close the door with a face motionless as a death-mask. But in spite of the apparent placidity, a turbu- lent exultation raged in his heart. His wildest dreams had not anticipated so complete an im- munity from the effects of his deed. Here, in one stroke, the obstruction to Olive's love and the faintest danger of prosecution for attempted murder, were removed. " Well ? " said Halowell ; and his voice was sufficiently grim to paint Dalton's cheek with a fleck of color. " What have you to say ? " " The the engagement has my sanction." Halowell shrugged his shoulders. " That lifts a weight from my mind, of course. But if that is all you wanted of me, why could not Joyce See here, Dalton ," he stepped nearer the bed and glowered down at the sick man. " What the devil does the business mean ? I've tried to unravel it and, I confess, failed abso- lutely unless it is Madam de Laurent's work. What was it that changed you overnight into a common assassin? Honor isn't much in my line, but I'll be shot if I ever did such a thing 2OO Clayton Halowell as you tried on me. I've killed my share of fel- low-mortals, and probably will go on killing until I've met my master. But I've always killed in fair, open fight, not by this paid cut- throat business. I'd like to know what it all means, pink me if I wouldn't ! " Dalton did not move. " We have always been friends," Halowell continued. " I haven't been a particularly good man myself and there are a great many things in my life I shall try to live down after my mar- riage. This ' Two Doves ' episode shall be the foremost if you wish. And if it was Madam de Laurent who set you at me just one word to cure you of your madness." " Are you a fit person to malign her? " asked Dalton gloomily. " So it was she." Halowell gave a laugh that was far from mirthful. " I thought as much. It's wonderful what a woman can do with a man; there isn't a passion from love to hate she can't conjure at will. I never knew you were that is, I never knew I was your rival." (Dalton's hand clutched at the cover- Pertinent Questions are Propounded 201 let, but his face remained impassive. ) " But I'm not a fit person to malign her. Yet warn you I can and will. She's nothing less than one of Clinton's spies. I had intended keeping the matter secret until my proof was strong enough to frighten her out of the country; but she's too dangerous to be dealt with single- handed." Dalton's face was convulsed, and beads of moisture glistened on his forehead. " A a spy! What do you intend to do?" he mut- tered, hoarsely. " I scarcely know. Her position is so as- sured that I shall need strong proof to convince her that flight only will keep the Provost away." " Have you " The sick man endeavored frantically to suppress the apprehension in his voice, and succeeded in his effort only because of Halowell's lack of suspicion as to the true relation existing between Olive and his pro- spective brother-in-law. " Have you any proof?" " Not an atom that will convict. I shall re- 202 Clayton Halowell port what I know and saw, and then wash my hands of the affair. I'm not so enamored of spying that the loss of it will grieve me." " Can you not is it absolutely necessary to make this report ? " faltered Dalton, a world of suffering in his hollow voice and livid face. " Think what she is, and what her death would be if if this slander proved to be true. You wouldn't give her to the hangman, would you?" " I'm not considering myself now. Olive has had time to save herself and has seen fit to brazen it out. What reason have I for think- ing she will cease destroying American lives if I continue to be false to my oath? " And in spite of the sick man's feverish pleading Halo- well was adamant in his resolution. " Then at least wait until I am about," Dal- ton cried desperately. " Call it the whim of a sick man, the torture of a lover anything you please ; only promise ! " " You can do no good, Dalton," Halowell replied, with a gentleness that surprised even himself. "You may only tangle yourself in Pertinent Questions are Propounded 203 the thing. An affair of this sort sticks like pitch if you touch it. And cut your acquaintance with Borden, I should advise; he's as deep, if not deeper, in the business than Olive. Let me finish the whole matter before you are up." "Man, man!" Dalton almost shrieked. " You love ; remember that love and respect mine ! " His cheeks were gray and his eyes so wild that for an instant his companion expected to be alone with a corpse. And more to avert such a catastrophe and calm the dangerously excited man than from any sense of right or pity, he promised. His words acted like a soothing draught and the invalid became more rational ; and when Joyce returned, she found the twain discussing the weather, to all outward appearances calm. But if Halowell, after taking leave of his sweetheart, had been less blind to all but the tender, merry face smiling at him from the door-step, he would have seen that a pair of eyes watched him from an upper window. Be- fore he had disappeared the eyes had vanished and Dalton was struggling into his clothes. 204 Clayton Halowell Joyce, pondering her happiness in the hall, was horrified to see her brother stagger down the stairs and, in spite of her tearful remonstrances, ride off. Across the river and up the opposite slope he trotted, sustained in the journey by the force of his love and his fear. Madam was out, taking her daily ride. The visitor decided to wait and was helped into the small salon where, sick and dizzy, he counted the seconds for the next thirty minutes. Meanwhile, the object of his solicitations was having a passive adventure. She had dismissed her court at the Morris Hotel and was riding alone when Halowell emerged from a lane, saw her, and made a movement to return from whence he had come. Then, apparently recon- sidering his determination he trotted forward and bowed. " May I ride with you ? " " If I am not too formidable," Olive re- plied. " You still are on the trail of mysteries, I presume ? " " I was until an hour ago." Madam's brows raised in silent question at the use of the past Pertinent Questions are Propounded 205 tense. " Yes, I decided to cut the mystery to turn it over to the Provost. You have not appreciated the fact that I was burdening my- self solely for your good, so " You have told the ingenuous story to Colonel Richards." Olive finished, nicking a fly from her crupper. Halowell did not think it worth while to correct her impression, and commented on the grandeur of the colors in the clouds. " Chut ! What do you or I care for the color of the clouds? What do you hope to gain by lodging this information ? " " Well," Clayton pursed up his lips medi- tatively, " a colonelcy, perhaps, and relief from a very trying position certainly. The Provost is the man who properly belongs to this busi- ness; and I am not anxious for more of last week's incidents. Which reminds me I haven't thanked you for the evening's entertainment you so thoughtfully provided. I had a most enjoyable time, I assure you." " You are speaking in riddles," said Olive coldly. 206 Clayton Halowell "Oh pardon. I was wrong to refer to the matter. To change the subject, I am " " No, I wish to know " " to be congratulated " " what you mean " " upon being a prospective Benedict. You are," lightly, " the first to hear the news." In an instant Olive's desire for knowledge had flown. She shrank as if struck by her com- panion's fist, and every particle of color left her cheeks. The gathering darkness veiled a light which sprang into her eyes. To further conceal the light she discovered that her stirrup was short and stooped over the buckle. When finally she looked up, her lips, though yet livid, were steady, and her erstwhile disloyal orbs inscruta- bly calm. "Joyce Dalton, I presume," she said, and cantered for a yard or so, looking straight ahead. " Of course you realize that this pleas- ant arrangement exists only by my suffrage? Your fiancee probably has all a school-girl's notions of what a lover should be." " I have not been able yet, but I intend to tell Pertinent Questions are Propounded 207 Joyce some day that I haven't been a good man," said Halowell gravely. " She is more a woman than you give her credit, Olive. This is my road, good night." He was off down the shadowy lane that led to his quarters almost before his parting was uttered, and Olive was alone with the bitterest pain a woman has to bear: though to judge by the return of the unholy fire to her eyes, the pain of her jealousy was not chastening her thoughts. Even Dalton, engrossed as he was with his own cares, noticed that she was livid when she appeared before him. " Well ! " she exclaimed, as he bowed over her hand. " What is your bad news ? Out with it! I'm in a good mood to be rid of you." The visitor straightened as if a hand had suddenly seized his collar. Where was his self- respect! Why did he endure these affronts from this woman ? But as he had asked himself (and Olive) these self-same questions number- less times before, he did not attempt their solu- tion but took the seat Madam imperiously com- manded and answered her question. 208 Clayton Halowell " I want to know why you lied to me about the man who was outside your window " " Because I wished ! " Dalton's white face flushed and darkened. " You are not fair," he said bitterly. " I have a right to ask. I suppose you still love him ! " " If I do, you are willing enough to accept the scraps that are left," was the fierce retort. " Am I never to have a moment's peace from your spying and questioning and jealousy? I am sick of it all sick of it, I tell you! I ride with another man and you must tag after like a spaniel; I dance with another man and you must mope in a corner ; I talk to another man and you must whine for a word too. I am sick of it!" " God knows I am sick of it too ! " Dalton panted. " I am sick of it if anyone is, for I was an honorable man until I met you; and now what am I ? " He really was sick and not strictly responsi- ble for his words, Olive knew. But he had had these attacks of mawkish, feeble sentimen- tality so often! And her patience was not im- Pertinent Questions are Propounded 209 pervious to all things. His fever acted as an antidote to her own passion and she shrugged her shoulders and walked to the door. " If you cannot talk with even ordinary sense, my dear George," she said icily, " I shall say adieu." " You you try me so," whispered Dalton. Then, in a firmer voice, " I have come to warn you that Halowell intends to place his informa- tion in the hands of the Provost." Madam closed the door and crossed to her companion, who was leaning on a tatie, very miserable and shaken. " Do you remember once I told you that the man who listened at my window that night knew nothing I could not deny ? Well, I tell you now, I lied ! Do you hear. I lied! He knows everything who you are how you copy the despatches for us even how they are passed through the lines. He Why don't you do something ! " she cried, in- terrupting her own stream of fierce words to turn passionately upon the livid man at her side. " Why don't you suggest a way to kill him! Must I plan even this man's work! " 2io Clayton Halowell Dalton wet his lips and stared at his compan- ion's convulsed face. There was no trace of love there now ; only hate and tigerish ferocity. " He he swore he had no proof," he gasped, after his lips had opened thrice and emitted no sound. " And now and now Joyce and he " " You would have for your brother the man who knows every detail of your dishonor ! To have him breathe it into his wife's ear; to have him fling it into your face; to have him tell it to his children ; to live with the sword of his tol- eration forever at your throat ! That will be a pleasant existence, a fine relationship, truly ! " Olive choked and her companion sat down heavily, hiding his face in his hands. " He's steel-proof," he gasped. " I tried at the * Two Doves ' " " And failed ! " screamed Olive. " Fool ! " She struck the man with her clenched fist, blow upon blow, the fires of Hell flaming from her passion-lit eyes. "Fool! Coward! Baby! To have him at your point and miss! Pah! " She turned away and stamped feverishly to and Pertinent Questions are Propounded in fro, pressing her hands to her breast as if to crush the wild, turbulent pain which raged therein. " When does his turn for picket in- spection come?" Dalton understood and rose unsteadily. " I'll have nothing to do with it," he whispered. " The man my sister loves ! I tell you I'll have nothing " " This is a most convenient time to think of your sister. Did she not love the man a week ago? Well, since you're afraid, I'll play the hand without you. At least I shall count on your silence ? " The thinly veiled menace conveyed in the last words sent a flush into the Major's cheeks. " I " he began hoarsely, then gulped and said, " Do what you like. But I'll not help" And with that he was gone. CHAPTER XIV WHEREIN MADAM PLANS AN army packing is as bewildering, from a spectacular point of view, as an army on the march. This general rule was applicable to the Continental camp in 1781. Baggage wagons, clumsy, covered affairs, groaned beneath the unthought-of quantities of litter necessary to the prosecution of the Kingly game of war. Orderlies and staff-officers overran the country- side on muddy horses, and pointed their re- marks with many forcible exclamations. Over- worked commissaries strove vainly to explain to zealous, but painfully ignorant militia cap- tains, that requisition-blanks were distributed for the purpose of feeding companies and not for the drawing of diagrams descriptive of the simplest way by which the enemy could be crushed. Quartermaster-sergeants, worried and Madam Plans 213 ugly, swore thirty to the second over accounts which would not balance. Farriers and artifi- cers clinked at their forges from dawn to dark- ness and seemed to make no headway with their eternal tasks. General officers rode to, and de- parted from, the busy house on the Newark Pike, and the parade-ground and fields adjacent thereto were constantly black with shabby es- corts and staffs. Consignments of horses and bullocks, in charge of bronzed, dirty, unkempt devils whose only visible soldierly quality was their seat, were shuffled into town and delivered to their various consignees. In the cantonments men repaired frayed saddles and burnished rusty muskets. All was turmoil and confusion and gladness for the army was about to move. While these preparations were at their height gloomy news arrived from the south. General Lincoln had been forced to shut himself into Charleston; General Clinton was investing the town; and Colonel Tarleton was marauding the Carolinas with his usual thoroughness and an evident intention of stamping the flame of 214 Clayton Halowell sedition once and for all from the Southern States. And so well was Tarleton accomplish- ing his object that the meanest drummer or camp-follower realized that unless succor was given the south would be rent from the con- federation. In view of these facts no one was surprised when the Maryland and Delaware line, and the First regiment of artillery were brigaded under command of Baron de Kalb. And when the public orders were issued placing the destination of the troops beyond conjecture, a great whoop of joy from the fortunates, and a correspondingly doleful cry from the unfortu- nate stay-at-homes, swelled above the general din of preparation. The night set for Lady Washington's ball, the thirteenth, proved to be the one previous to the relief-column's departure. As much from compliment to the distinguished host and hostess as a desire to fitly end the many asso- ciations incident upon the army's long inactiv- ity, the attendance at the ball was universal if, besides the guests, be counted the throngs of countrymen and idle soldiers crowding every Madam Plans 215 available point of vantage near and approaching Headquarters, craning at the passing carriages and cheering their favorites. Of the guests, blue and buff Americans, white and gold Frenchmen, weather-beaten privateer Captains, and, here and there, red and white Englishmen, laughed and danced and were as gaily superficial as if life, and the mor- row, held no uncertainties or vexations. Wash- ington himself opened the dancing with Mrs. Knox, M. de Lafayette (lately returned from France) walking opposite with Lady Washing- ton. In the same set, brilliant and beautiful, gowned as an empress and homaged as such, was Madam de Laurent. Watching Madam from an obscure end of the room, no longer im- portant as a member of His Excellency's offi- cial family, was Mr. Dalton. Many people piercing the forced calm of the man's manner did not doubt that his disgrace was the cause of his desolation; and even while they con- demned the gross carelessness by which he him- self had encompassed his downfall, they pitied his misery. 2i 6 Clayton Halowell The orchestra was tuning for the second minuet when Major Halowell banished tearful disappointment from a pair of violet eyes by rapping on the door of a house in a shady lane not two musket shots distant from the scene of the festivities. " I was preparing for a nice cry," said the powdered, furbelowed little vision that opened the door and flew into his arms, regardless of damaging results to lace frill and pleated over- skirt. " What has kept you from me, Clayton, thou fallen man? George left an hour ago" " Nay, dear heart," said Halowell, smooth- ing back a wandering tress and smiling down into the shining eyes which smiled lovingly up at him, " I should be called not ' fallen ' but ' foolish.' Since eight o'clock I have ridden nearly to Whippany and back." "And why, pray?" " To carry the dying message of a friend one Richard Winslow No, no, dearest! It was only a hoax. Ten minutes ago I left this same Richard riding to quarters to make him- self presentable for Madam Washington and Madam Plans 217 the Carlyle girls. But if he had not tired of waiting for me at the Thirteen States at Whip- pany well, with all conviction I say it, I should not have been here now, and my little pink fairy," drawing the girl closer, kissing her fore- head lightly, " would have been obliged to look for another cavalier." Joyce paled and threw her arm around Clay- ton's neck as if to protect him from the world. " Another another trap ? " she gasped. Her companion laughed. " Ay, another; the third. They've tried ambuscade, single-marks- man, and, now, this last, which was designed to give cold steel a chance, probably. That picket-inspection episode was the closest. But thank Heaven, it will end to-morrow, for a time at least." " Then you are really going with Lord Stir- ling? " Joyce's fears for past perils were over- shadowed by apprehensions for those of the future. " Must you go, dear? " " If I do not, how shall I bring honor to a certain maid whom I know and love ? " " But the maid does not want honor she 2i8 Clayton Halowell wants you; and she especially wants you to keep far, far from danger." " Which is a desire I treat thus." Clayton seized the cloak which was lying ready for use on the hall table, wrapped the girl in it, and, whisking her in his arms, carried her down the yard to the coach, much to the scandal of the colored coachman. " Now," he continued, when she had retired to her corner, shaking her fan at him and declaring that he had ruined her gown, " Now Madam, make another such re- quest and I'll carry you straight to His Excel- lency and beg him to pillory you for attempted treason." If Madam de Laurent were the acknowl- edged belle of the ball her enjoyment was not in proportion to the exalted position. The an- nouncement, " Major Halowell and Mistress Jocelyne Dalton " and the sight of Clayton, careless and handsome, and Joyce, radiant and laughing, discorded the music for her. Her smile froze suddenly and a giddiness wiped the Madam Plans 219 rich carnation from her cheeks and lips. Be- fore the newcomers had advanced beyond the threshold she had made a rather incoherent re- quest of her partner to take her to the garden. On her way up the room she caught a glimpse of Dalton's face, convulsed and sweating, and was not pleased at the sight. In the cool, whispering silence, and the soft lantern-light of the garden, her dismay rapidly, crystallized to fury. While Hamilton, her com- panion, talked of the beauty of the evening and the success of the entertainment, she tried fiercely to efface certain memories and arrange her thoughts. Borden had failed again ! Truly, as George had said, the man was steel-proof. But he should pay for his crimes to her; there were other things in the world than steel and powder! Hamilton never connected the sud- den tightening of the fingers on his arm with the desperate clutch of a desperate mortal. He inquired solicitously if he should return for a wrap and, upon receiving a negative reply, re- turned to his gallantries and platitudes. "What has dried the Font of Wit?" he 220 Clayton Halowell cried. " Faith ! I shall think you are bemoan- ing my departure unless you quickly disillusion- ize me." Olive made an immense effort. " Which thought is another demonstration of the con- ceit of man," she retorted, with a laugh which had not one false note in it. " Since you are so unmerciful, in plain lan- guage of what were you thinking? " " If I were to tell I would doubtless be ac- cused of several crimes against decorum." "Why?" " The subject of my thoughts was a man." " And that man not I ? " Hamilton groaned tragically. " Who is the lucky mortal occupy- ing the thoughts of a Queen to the exclusion of a very deserving slave ? " "A certain Mr. Halowell," laughed Olive. Her tone was so light that none other than a wizard could have known that it masked a well of jealous fury. Like a boy biting on a sore tooth to make the pain more endurable, she harrowed her soul by discussing the cause of her unhappiness. " I was thinking how won- Madam Plans 221 derfully he had risen in two years from a mere trooper, I understand." " With reluctance do I say it, he's quite a wonderful man." Knowing the story of Halo- well's rescue of Madam de Laurent, Hamilton thought nothing of this exhibition of interest, and possibly hoped, by dwelling on its object, to advance his own aspirations. " His Excel- lency takes a vast interest in him as a sort of personal discovery, you know. He's to have a chance to win his regiment to-morrow." " Indeed ? I did not know he was going with De Kalb." " He's not he's going to Staten Island with Stirling on ('tis a military secret, so tremble) a raid to cover De Kalb's departure. There! Observe how thoroughly I trust you; what I have told isn't known to a dozen persons in the world. Surely that should weigh in favor of my devotion." " The weight overwhelms me," retorted Madam. " I vow, the honor of being the con- fidante of a staff-officer (even though the staff- officer be extremely imprudent) overwhelms 222 Clayton Halowell me! You think then," returning persistently to her original subject, " that Mr. Halowell is destined to rise in his profession? " " It would be looking too far into the future to make that statement. Musket-balls and fever have a perverse way of fastening upon the strongest." " But with reasonable hope? " " With reasonable good-fortune, yes. The fellow is a devil in a scrimmage, and his men would follow him to the place where brim- stone and fire are commonly supposed to abound. Now I swear I shall call the Major out if you inquire about him further ! " " Ah, flatterer ! " Madam smiled and tapped the arm upon which she rested. " Tis not a small thing for a woman to have lived a winter in camp and be heart-whole in the spring. But I have done so, and I'm proof against your pretty speeches." And if gleaming, trium- phant eyes and a panting breast were evidence of her words, she was Truth itself. Returning presently to the house, she left her escort and walked rapidly to the deserted card-room, Madam Plans 223 where Dalton, searching for her for reasons best known to himself, presently found her scribbling on her dance-card. " News, George, news ! " she whispered, in- terrupting his salutations by thrusting the card into his hand. " What we can't manage Knyphausen will. It must go to Borden at once; it's important, you see." Dalton read the " Stirling to Staten Island to-morrow, via the Short Hills, probably," that was written on the paper, and, as usual, rebelled. " I'll not do it! " he muttered, and made a mo- tion as if to tear the note. Before the action could develop Olive had arrested his arm. " You are negligent with your manners, George. To decline a request! "Tis most impolite, I must say. And " her voice suddenly lost its bantering ring and grew hard. " And you will take this to Borden or Apparently the whispered alternative was forceful. Dalton did not wait for its end ; and, an hour later, as the first of the guests were tak- ing leave of their host and hostess, a cipher despatch was on its way to Knyphausen and 224 Clayton Halowell Dalton was gulping neat brandy in the house of Mr. Henry Borden. Not so many hours after this incident, and notwithstanding the dissipation of the night, staff-officers were flying up and down the Newark Pike, and lines of men were forming in one of the fields adjacent to the road. Not a great number of men were there, lolling on rusty muskets in the gray of the morning, knee-deep in the ground mist and but half awake. But when, presently, a General cantered up to them and the various commanders ordered, " Forward ! " " Stirling and Staten Island " was cheered lustily, and the march was begun. Not a score of people marked the column's march through the town and out into the Eliza- beth Road. The earliness of the hour and the fact (as Hamilton had told Madam de Laurent) that not a dozen individuals were aware of the intended departure, accounted for the lack of spectators. Yet of the score who noted the lines of marching men, one at least wasnot pres- ent casually. When the ragged rear-guard Madam Plans 225 had vanished into the gloom this man emerged from the thicket that had concealed him, and galloped away as if the Furies were at his heels. Down into the valley, across the river, up the opposite slope, and so to Madam de Laurent's door he flew. And by a strange coincidence Madam was dressed and pacing the chilly lengths of the rosery. " He's not there, Olive ! He's not there ! " the man cried desperately, as he flung himself from his horse and faced the woman. It may have been the fatigue occasioned by the lateness of her retiring and the earliness of her rising, or it may have been remorse and the gnawing of a love which no wounds could kill ; but, whatever the cause, Madam's cheeks were chalky and her eyes heavily ringed with black. A little pulse beat in her cheek, yet other than that sign of repression she was coldly calm as usual. " Who is not where? " she said curtly, paus- ing in her walk to survey the agitated messen- ger. " Be coherent, please." " Halowell was not with Stirling." 226 Clayton Halowell A tinge of red crept into, and then faded from the woman's cheeks. " Are you sure? " she whispered, almost eagerly. " I watched every man. God ! I don't know whether to be glad or sorry ! " Before Olive could comment on this observa- tion, or question her companion more closely upon his news, a stout figure appeared at the head of the path, hurrying toward them. Mad- am turned from Dalton and advanced a few paces to meet the newcomer, whose red face was shining with perspiration, in spite of the touch of March in the air. " So you know ! " were the man's first words. His piercing eyes belied his dull mouth, and a sly bravery his loose, flabby chin. " He's scot free again and likely as not to come down on us. Pink me! if I'll ever again depart from plain cut and thrust." Madam, to all outward appearances totally indifferent to Mr. Borden's perturbation, stared at a withered rose-leaf. " Do you know why he didn't go?" " Change of orders, Powers reports a con- Madam Plans 227 voy up West Point way that is more in the Major's line. It's wonderful," he went on, " and very disquieting, how he escapes us every time." And he looked hard at Madam. " I suppose you two are going to see De Kalb's phalanx off?" Dalton nodded. Olive, however, did not look up, so Borden continued." " I thought you would be with the well-wish- ers, hence this unfashionable call." He opened his coat and took a paper from his pocket. " Here are several things that need attention. Hendon sends word that to-morrow's des- patches will contain the key to Heath's backing and filling in the Highlands and that he won't carry them as usual. General's not suspicious, he says, but believes in caution and a change of expresses now and then. By hook or crook (or some more certain expedient) we must get those despatches, if only to delay the movement. Then Snyder writes that Putnam is collecting supplies, and reconnoitering north. We must find out if he means to threaten New York. The programme means a busy week for all and 228 Clayton Halowell a journey for Madam. You," addressing Olive, " can start for Princeton at once, I suppose ? " Olive nodded and said, " To-morrow if you wish," briefly. "And you, Dalton, can attend to the ex- press ? You owe it to us for bungling yourself out of the staff." " Why am I always picked out for the dirty work ! " muttered Dalton. " You or Hendon can do it as well as I." To have told Dalton that, since he had no further access to Headquarters' secrets, in the event of a catastrophe he could be more readily spared than any other member of the band, would have been unwise ; so Borden substituted a plausible, " I cannot stir after dark without risking the company of your future brother-in- law," for the truth. " And Hendon," he added, " has enough to do at Hanover. Come ! " as Dalton turned away, irresolution and a certain weak obstinacy struggling in his eyes. " Will you get the despatches. Yes or no ! " Borden's temper was inclined to be choleric, Madam Plans 229 and Olive, who had been aroused from her in- difference to all but the rose-leaf by the obvious importance of possessing the despatches, smoothed the sting of the abrupt question by laying her hand pleadingly on Dalton's arm. " We need you, George. Sir Henry " Damn Sir Henry! " snapped Dalton. Then the sight of the beautiful face close to his cheek destroyed his resistance. " Understand," he continued querulously, " if I do the thing it won't be for Sir Henry or the whole British roster! " " Then you will do it ! " broke in Borden, only to relapse into watchful silence at a mute command from his confederate's sapphire eyes. " I understand, George," said Madam softly, and slipped her hand down Dalton's arm until her fingers rested upon the clenched fist half buried in the wide buff cuff. " I understand, George, and I accept the service and all it en- tails. Now let's forget politics," she went on, laughing with a gaiety in which her heart had no part. " Both you unfashionable gentlemen shall breakfast and ride to the review with me." 230 Clayton Halowell " I'll resign in favor of Mr. Dalton," said Borden. " Instructions for you both will ar- rive during the day. Good-by." When the civilian's bulky form had vanished amid the tall rose-trees, Dalton turned and kissed the hand that rested upon his wrist. Ma- dam absently tapped his bowed head with a rose-stalk, and during breakfast, which was served in the boudoir-window by Yvette, and brightened by the streaming sun and the glori- ous view of the valley, was gloomily silent. Even the fresh sweetness of the May morning, the murmur of forest and river, and the zest with which her mare enjoyed the canter down the valley and up the Newark Pike to the Head- quarter's parade even these varied induce- ments did not liven her spirits to any appreci- able extent. By some complex, paradoxal chain of ideas, the sight of Halowell and Joyce in the waiting throng on the parade-ground brought the rec- reant color to her cheeks and the animation to her eyes. Even as she greeted the half score of men who instantly clustered to her side, she Madam Plans 231 noticed that Halowell wore his service uniform; and, like Dalton, she was not certain whether she was glad or sorry because of his intended departure. Olive had not been on the parade a minute before Joyce spied her. Only Clayton's per- suasion that she watch the ceremony they had come to view prevented her from yielding to the fascination by which old and young, man and woman, were drawn to the siren. De Kalb's lines of marching men scarcely held her atten- tion, however, and Halowell wondered savagely how much further she would be subjugated, and what the object of the subjugation was. Be- fore he could satisfy himself on either problem, fife and drum began to screech the ever-glorious " Yankee Doodle," simultaneous with which the spectators cheered and the ragged troops swung out upon the highroad in column of fours. Halowell, waving an envious farewell to an acquaintance in the Maryland line, was recalled to his dilemma by a tap from his companion's whip. 232 Clayton Halowell " Madam de Laurent is beckoning," she cried, and was off, a pretty, graceful figure in her close-fitting habit and her radiant youth. Olive was in the gayest of spirits now. She bowed sweetly to Halowell and kissed Joyce with a warmth that set that impressionable young lady aglow with rapture. "The other day Mr. Halowell asked me to congratulate him," Madam said. " Instead of wishing you happiness I should frighten you by unearthing the Green Monster. I counted the Major my most attentive cavalier before your advent, witch." " I'm sure," Joyce laughed, " that you can spare one from an army." " A woman can never spare an admirer. As well encourage gray locks and wrinkles. But xve learn to be surprised at nothing the fickle lords of creation will not do. Is that not the word, Mr. Hamilton fickle? " "You are much too hard on the sex, Madam." " By showing them the error of their ways ? Madam Plans 233 Fie! What do you say to this weighty matter, Mr. Halowell?" The question broke rudely upon Clayton's thoughts. He had halted outside the circle of gentlemen which surrounded Olive, and was in- voluntarily comparing her to Joyce. Both rep- resented types of beauty, but each was as dis- similar as the sun and the moon. Madam's was the style he had always admired until an inexplicable process had caused his tastes to veer in the opposite direction. " I'm afraid I'm too biased to hazard an opin- ion," he confessed. And, the field being bare of troops, he asked Joyce if she would like to spend the two hours before his departure watching General Knox's artillerymen at practice. " Lovers are traditionally insane," Madam observed tranquilly, gazing after the twain as they cantered side by side down the green bor- dered road. " Gentlemen, you are dismissed for the day all except Mr. Dalton. Mr. Dai- ton, I desire your attendance." For a time Olive and the officer designated in the mandate rode in silence, the woman staring 234 Clayton Halowell with unheeding eyes at the sunny landscape which rolled and glistened on every side, the man staring at the woman's wondrous beauty and reveling in the fascination of her compan- ionship. Then, " You'll not fail to-morrow ! " Olive said abruptly. The look of helpless, abject adoration by which the question was answered set at rest any doubts Madam may have entertained as to her companion's loyalty to her cause. And when, the following afternoon, she embarked for Princeton in her green coach (with Yvette and a poodle for company, and General Washing- ton's personal pass, and three blue and silver out-riders, for protection), she forgot her ani- mosity for Major Halowell in a reasonable cer- tainty that the Heath dispatches would never reach Heath until their contents had been made known to the authorities in New York. CHAPTER XV WHEREIN HALOWELL TAKES HIS REVENGE CLAYTON was at West Point when vague rumors of tragedy and treachery spread through the garrison. First he heard that His Excellency had been murdered; then that Put- nam had deserted and carried to the enemy every scrap of information relating to the com- ing campaign; then that a cavalry raid had caught the camp and massacred hundreds. Skeptical, perplexed and anxious he, when ordered back to Morristown, nearly killed his mount in his desire to learn what state of affairs had given rise to the wild gossip. At the first picket he discovered that, while each version had been enlarged and garbled with each telling, in the main they were in- spired by facts. By the time he reached the " Goat," the first statements had sim- mered down to the shooting of the weekly 235 236 Clayton Halo well express to General Heath and the rifling of the fellow's dispatch-box (the very boldness of the deed having assured its success and the immun- ity of the perpetrator). The cavalry-raid fic- tion was caused by nothing less than the return of a bruised, bloody, dusty, savage mob under Stirling, whose complete annihilation in a sur- prise at the Short Hills had been averted only by a never-failing caution. As it was, Simcoe had hung to the broken flanks of his victims, harrying and snapping like the bull-dog he was, until the smoke of the Continental picket-fires had scared him off. In the army's (not the staff's) mind, the latter disaster overshadowed the express' murder, and the grumbling of the men's anger rose above the hum and bustle of their preparations for departure. Men shook their heads gloomily over their ale, and com- mented on the strange fatality which had over- taken nearly all the winter's raids. And each looked askance at his neighbor and was restless under the certainty that some trust was being betrayed. When Halowell broke from the ring of eager Halowell Takes His Revenge 237 newsmongers who had hailed with delight his eagerness for information, every detail of both disasters had been crammed into his brain. His lips wore a peculiarly hard smile. Linking the outrages with his knowledge, he felt like a mur- derer himself. But he would purge his con- science! An uncontrollable antipathy to in- volve Olive in so hideous a scandal, even though his silence daily imperilled the army and his prospects, and even though the time limit set by Dalton had long expired, had thus far held him from declaring the traitors. The light of these recent events, however, placed duty above sentiment; and in a very adaman- tine mood indeed, he rode into town and drew rein before the Provost's office. As bad luck would have it, Colonel Richards had left for Mendham and was not expected to return before the following morning. Halowell could not tell his story to the youthful deputy who gave him the unwelcome information. The following evening, tired as he was with a long day in the saddle, he once more prepared to un- burden his soul. And once again did Fate re- 238 Clayton Halowell buff him. Richards had returned, but it was lodge-night, and the deputy pointed across to the gaily lighted windows of the Morris Hotel in answer to the Major's query. Halowell hesitated to intrude upon the merrymakers; and, having hesitated, he decided that, inas- much as he had held his secret three weeks, his troublesome and distasteful duty could be dis- charged in the morning. As he crossed the green after having come to this conclusion his horse shied violently and called attention to a dark figure slipping from tree to tree. The sight was sufficient to point the suspicions with which Halowell's mind was impregnated. In grim silence he collared and dragged a struggling swearing captive to a nearby lamp, and turned the fellow's face to the light. " You'd better let me go," the man affirmed sullenly. " I'm carrying despatches to General Heath." " Then why don't you go about it like an honest man ? " Halowell, however, did not loosen his grip. " Let me see the despatches. Halowcll Takes His Revenge 239 Hm! They seem to be in order. To what troop do you belong? " " Capt'n Bacon's Pennsylvania line." " Well, when I see Captain Bacon I shall not fail to tell him that his courier's manner is pecu- liar and that his tongue is too free. Good- night." More relieved at the outcome of this little adventure than he cared to confess Halowell, after watching the messenger slink into the darkness, shook his bridle and started once more for his quarters. The road lay past the busy, lighted Ford House, and the head of Joyce's lane. Further out toward Whippany it skirted lines of picketed horses, and swathed guns, and the deserted huts of De Kalb's troops. Then the passing of more huts brought the rider to the edge of the oak-surrounded meadow which was his destination. Here he left the road. He was cantering over the rough track that led to the double row of huts that composed the cantonment, when the clink of a sabre sounded from a thicket ahead of him. Instinct and training im- 240 Clayton Halowell mediately fired his alarm. In a twinkling he had reined in and drawn a pistol. Why was a body of horse concealed practically in the midst of camp? Visions of the fulfilment of the British threat against the liberty of His Ex- cellency flashed into his mind. " Patrol ! Pa- trol ! " he bawled, galloping toward the fringe of scrub-oak which masked the suspicious sounds, and hoping by his cries to attract either the watch or the least sleepy members of his regiment. " Within the wood, there ! " An answer to the challenge came in the shape of a horseman and a lighted lantern. As Halo- well pulled up uncertainly the apparition flashed the light into his face. " Hello Bacon What the dev " The ejaculation fell upon empty air, for with- out a word the lantern-bearer vanished again into the trees. " I'll be hanged ! " exclaimed Halowell, and slowly shoved his pistol back into its holster. " Queer happenings, horse. Did he take us for highwaymen or spies ? " It was after ten, and, the stable-detail having Halo well Takes His Revenge 241 retired to the seclusion of a quiet dicing, Clay- ton was his own hostler. When the nag had been made comfortable he sought his hut, pulled off his boots, lighted a pipe, and snuffing the candle, settled back on his stool near the door to ponder the strange appearance of his colleague and the annoying mischances which kept him still partner to Olive's crimes. The silence, except for the gentle confidences which oaks and brook exchanged, was absolute and, after the bustle and turmoil of the day, was sweeter than the rarest melody. Halowell could enjoy it too, for he was at peace with the world. Spurred by the witchery of the hour, Ambition and Cupid stole his senses. Ambition built him gorgeous palaces, and Cupid led therein a cer- tain brown-eyed, roguish girl. Then Ambition brought money-bags and honors and piled them upon the threshold of the palace; and Cupid, not to be outdone, waved his bow and lo! a toddling child appeared upon the money-bags and lisped " Father," in baby-talk And then the gorgeous palace, the brown- eyed girl, and the lisping child vanished in a 242 Clayton Halowell thunder clap. Halowell would have sworn, as he opened his eyes, that the child screamed. He looked around in the bewilderment of half- sleep, still rubbing his eyes, when a second pis- tol banged. The report was not loud enough to have come from Bacon's troopers concealed in the oaks ; and as it did not occur again Halo- well concluded it was from some restless picket and cursed the fellow fervently. This relief to his feelings had scarcely ended when a third shot, and, close upon its heels, the thud, thud, of a galloping horse, startled him into com- plete wakefulness. He was on his feet, peering into the darkness, in an instant. Nothing more suspicious than the vaguely- marked highway in the middle distance, and the twinkling of the picket-guard's fires far beyond, repaid his survey. Thoroughly mystified, he was about to turn away when a shrill " Boots and Saddles," and the creak and clash of a body of mounting cavalry rose from the copse. Treading on the heels (as it were) of these sounds, came Bacon's troopers in extended or- der. Halowell could see them bouncing to- Halowell Takes His Revenge 243 ward the highroad like two-score animated blots. They trailed away eastward; and then silence again. How long he stood in the doorway staring after the vanished troop, Halowell could never tell. Minutes were as seconds during the strain of waiting for what he knew not. A few sleepy voices called from hut to hut to know what the trouble was. This languid interest died out and the whole meadow lay quiet and star-lit and, to the watching man, deserted save for the end of a neighboring cabin. Clumps of berry bushes and knuckles of rock spotted the long, basin-like depression. There was ab- solutely nothing to cause alarm Halowell shrank suddenly and crouched in the shadow of the door. His eyes became riveted on a roll of the meadow directly in a line with, and not a dozen yards from, his hut. A man was crawling swiftly between the bushes at that point. It came to Halowell in a flash that the man was making for the rough, wooded ground be- yond the huts; and before the thought was 244 Clayton Halowell fairly formed he was taking his part in the un- intelligible drama. The crawling man heard him dashing through the tall grass, and leaped to his feet, a knife glittering in his hand. But a battery would not have swerved Halo- well. He ran in beneath the knife, and had its possessor on the ground before the steel could more than flash. The fellow showed fight; and only after he had been disarmed and throttled did he accept his fate. " Now I'll ask what it means," panted the victor. "We'll have no Hell's Fury!" " You You needn't be so rough with a vis- itor," Dalton said, rubbing his throat in a piti- fully transparent attempt at jocularity. " I've come for my sword." He was gasping, and his face was wet with perspiration; and the quick, haunted looks he cast to right and left, and the nervous pauses in his speech, sent a sickening fear to his hearer's heart. " I've come for my sword, Halowell," he repeated. Halowell breathed deeply. "What have they come for? " he whispered. The question was occasioned by the sound of Halowell Takes His Revenge 245 a voice calling from the road, and another an- swering from the copse. Along the crest of the roll of land down which Dalton had crept a dim silhouette was striding and a lantern was pick- ing sparks on the high boots and slender spurs of an officer and flaming on the broad scab- bards of a dozen attendant troopers. From the line of trees that marked the highway a fan- like mass of men (a dismounted troop, Halo- well's experience told him) was creeping over every inch of ground between it and the bridle path to the huts. Completing the circle was the hubbub of voices sounding at the far end of the regimental street. And then Dalton went to pieces and grovelled and crawled on his knees, and begged to be hidden to be hidden for Joyce's sake! " She would die if I were taken ! " he whim- pered in a frenzy of abject fear. " You love her ! Would you kill her ? Would you ! " Halowell's breath was again congested. When he spoke it was to say, " Good God ! " very quietly. " Would you kill her ! " repeated Dalton, and 246 Clayton Halowell a sudden thrill of hope lightened the hoarseness of his voice. " She she " " Get up and follow me ! " Halowell mut- tered, and keeping in the shelter of the shallow valley, led the way to the hut. It was only a few steps, but the journey seemed endless. When the door was closed Dalton sank weakly upon a stool and his miserable captor walked to the window and rested his elbows upon the sill. Presently he looked around ; and the frightened coward who was trading on man's holiest af- fection to save his worthless neck, was shocked and awed by the change wrought in the few moments of silence. Deep furrows seamed HalowelFs cheeks, and blue rings of suffering had appeared beneath his eyes. In spite of his agony no shadow of pity softened the sternness of his features. Yet in its stead was an inex- plicable something which told the shivering, gasping fugitive that his plea had borne the desired fruit. " Get under the cot," whispered Halowell. The cordon of searchers was drawing steadily nearer the door and escape into the open was Halo well Takes His Revenge 247 impossible. " I'll save your neck if I can. No ! No thanks ! " He drew away his hand with so fierce a loathing that the supplicant flushed, notwithstanding the force of his terror. " I would help pull the rope myself, and fill you full of lead afterward for a damned spying hound if if you weren't the brother of your sister." " I'll never do it again, I swear, Halowell." " I suppose it was you who murdered Bill- ings last week! " snarled Halowell, and raised his fist. But the action being purely involun- tary, its menace was instantly softened to a motion for the fugitive to crawl beneath the truckle-bed the only cover in the room. When the silent command had been obeyed the white- faced host seated himself once more beside the door and relighted his pipe. He dared not think ; but he must plan. By the sounds, every hut in the cantonment was being searched, and he would need his wits, as he had seldom needed them before, for Joyce. When the searchers finally came, they found him cool and ready. 248 Clayton Halowell " Evening again, Mr. Halowell," Captain Bacon said briskly. He was a square, middle- aged New Englander, with a resolute mouth and the eyes of a devil. " We're on the scent of a spy at last, praise Heaven. He tried a shot at Buckwell, of my troop, back by the river, but we were expecting him this time Ho there, Ball! Stick the lantern into the bushes, man! You haven't seen the fellow, have you ? " " No." Halowell fully realized that the lie burned his bridges, and that the penalty at- tached to the crime of shielding a traitor was death. " I've seen no one. Do you want to search? I'll strike a light." He lit a dip and stuck it in the tin holder without a tremor mar- ring the steadiness of his hand. " Don't stand in the door come in, Bacon." " Thanks, Major, but I'll stay here and watch the boys. Buckwell! on the roof with you and have a peep down the chimney! If you haven't been away from here since I saw you yonder, the fellow certainly can't be in your Halowell Takes His Revenge 249 palace and I certainly won't waste time in a formality." " Why should anyone try to shoot Buck- well ? " Halowell asked, after having watched the seachers rout out sleepers and pull cots apart with business-like disregard for the pro- tests of the outraged occupants. Bacon laughed gleefully. " Because, d'ye see, it was advertised that despatches would be carried to-night, and Buckwell was the man to carry them. It's my scheme, too; slick, don't you think ? " Halowell agreed that the trick was slick and, after knocking the ashes out of his pipe, asked, '"' Have you any description of the traitor? " " Nothing regular, but enough. Tall, and wore a mask, Buckwell says, He's in this hol- low somewhere and we'll get him, don't you worry." " I'm not," said the listener evenly. At this moment there appeared upon the threshold a heavy, square-jawed man, who grinned at Halowell and whom that gentleman 250 Clayton Halowell instantly recognized as the free talker he had captured and chidden on the Green a few hours before. The fellow set his lantern on the floor near the foot of the cot and made a hurried re- port to his commander. The Major could not but admire the pluck with which the man had invited death. He expressed his thoughts, and had gotten as far as, " You deserve a troop, my man, sink me if you don't ! " when his throat grew suddenly dry and the words failed to come. Just beyond the circle of light cast by Buckwell's lantern lay a mask that was spot- ted with fresh blood. Luckily Bacon was ab- sorbed with his trooper and so did not observe the flicker of panic which whitened his host's face. Reckless as he was, Halowell could not regard death on the gallows without this mo- mentary shrinking. A shot or a sabre-stroke could be laughed at, but not a rope. Buckwell was picking up his lantern and sa- luting when Halowell's faculties regained their normal altitude of interested imperturbility. He took a quick stride toward the damning oval of silk. 'Just you leave it," said a voice from the darkness. Page 251. Halowell Takes His Revenge 251 "Just you leave it," said a voice from the darkness, and the muzzle of a pistol appeared over the window-sill and covered him. " Look on the floor, Capt'n, by the foot o' the cot." Bacon whirled around, saw, and slowly picked up the mask. Buckwell brought his lan- tern, and the pair stared first at the spotted silk and then at Halowell, amazement, doubt, sus- picion and conviction painted successively in both blunt countenances. Without, the oaths and crashes incident to the search were sound- ing loudly; within, the silence was of the breathless variety with which one awaits a calamity. Presently Bacon spoke. " What's this ? " he asked, holding up the mask. "And these?" pointing to the blood-spots. Halowell's lips were white and his voice a trifle unsteady, but, " It's a mask, I should say," he replied, and shrugged his shoulders. " And my mare's blood," growled Buckwell. " Wet, too, you see, Capt'n." " He was agoin' to kick it under the bed," 252 Clayton Halowell volunteered the trooper at the window. " Shall I shoot?" " No." Bacon's voice was ominously quiet. " No, Krause, lead is too good for this gentle- man. He'll have a chance to explain things later. You may collect the men; I think they need hunt no further." Then, turning to Halowell, who was absently clinking his nails upon his tobacco-jar, " I arrest you, Major Halowell, in the name of the Continental Con- gress and His Excellency, General Washing- ton. You are my prisoner, sir." Few men are consistently bad, and for a second Dalton, in the security of his black cor- ner and of Bacon's headstrong jumping at con- clusions, hesitated to accept this means of es- cape. But Nature allows no rebellion among her weaklings; and after the first flush of hor- ror occasioned by the unexpected turn of events, she forced the Coward above the Man. Dalton knew Halowell would not voluntarily besmirch Joyce's name. And there would be time to effect a rescue before an execution could take place. The coward's ever-present cry, " There Halowell Takes His Revenge 253 is time," was the traitor's sole plea, his single extenuation for this more than dastardly act, which had not even the saving grace of love- inspiration, as had his crimes against the gov- ernment. And Halowell, his lips whiter than the lace of his frill, and his soul a fierce jumble of emotions (fear for Joyce, savage scorn for her brother, and anguish for himself), marched away between two files of sternly-silent troopers. CHAPTER XVI WHEREIN A MAN STRUGGLES AND IS VIC- TORIOUS THE second day of captivity and the first session of the trial were over, and Halowell, shaken and livid, was pacing his darkening cell. In the two latter years of his life position and honor in his profession had been the sole bea- cons of his existence. Almost the only events at which he need not blush incident to these aims were his love for Joyce and his army rec- ord. Like a widowed mother, he had nursed these two loves until they had grown a part of his life. With the hideous certainty that their loss was but the matter of hours and the whim of one vacillating coward, his soul filled with an agony never before experienced. If he could only die! If the dastard would only confess! If He dashed the perspiration fiercely from his forehead, wondering as fierce- ly at his own sensations. The usual indiffer- 254 A Man Struggles and is Victorious 255 ence with which he regarded death or ill-luck was so completely swallowed in his new horror that he felt almost as if another man were oc- cupying the flesh of the old Clayton. And certainly no one would have recognized in this pallid, haggard, suffering man, the swagger- ing, genial, debonair soldier of yesterday. It was not the actual death, degrading and un- soldierly as it was, that frightened the cap- tive it was the fear that Joyce believed him guilty and that Washington would think him ungrateful. At length, exhausted by the violence of his own pain, Halowell threw himself upon the cot. The low mutter of the guards outside the door recalled the scenes of the day's trial. In the two muttering voices the tortured man heard all the hateful sounds which, a few hours before, had deafened and deadened his senses. The jostling of the crowds ; the stares and mut- tered curses of the spectators; the shrill hoots of the urchins in the street; the interminable shuffle of feet and mumble of voices in the low room back of the Provost's office all returned 256 Clayton Halowell to him now in one great wave of horror. He dared not think of the outcome of the trial. In- deed, there was no necessity for thought on the subject; his persistent silence, and the damning evidence of Bacon, Buckwell, and the re- mainder of the squad which had captured him were conviction in themselves. That much had been patent in the hardening lips of the court, as, hour after hour, corroboration after corrob- oration had been piled up. Bacon, recounting his visit to the accused's quarters and the find- ing of the bloody mask, had been convincing in his terseness. Buckwell, telling of the meeting on the Green, had conclusively proved the knowledge of the accused to the existence of the dispatches. Trooper Krause had established the fact that the mask could not have been in- nocent, else why the necessity of surreptitiously concealing it. And yet, in spite of this heap of evidence, there was to be another session in the morning, when, the judge-advocate had an- nounced, he would sum up his case and demand a verdict. As the hours had dragged wearily along the A Man Struggles and is Victorious 257 silent, impassive prisoner had realized that his act of criminal complicity in high treason was resolving itself into one of suicide. A thousand times he applied to himself every fierce invec- tive his extended vocabulary contained. One little word would clear him and convict the traitor one little word which forever died still- born on his lips. And because of his contuma- cious silence the evidence, unchecked, built a gallows. He had searched for Joyce and her brother amid the rows of strained faces that filled the Court-room, and had rebelled bitterly when he had not found the former. The latter, he discovered wavering and sweating in a cor- ner. For a full minute captive and traitor had stared. Then Dalton's eyes had dropped. The next time the prisoner looked, the hatefully familiar face had vanished and with it the last ray of hope which unconsciously had buoyed his spirits. He had accepted his fate passively. Now he wondered idly if the fellow's soul were as harrowed as was his, and derived a certain grim comfort from the recollection of his quiv- ering, paste-white face. 258 Clayton Halowell Darkness does not always salve a pain, and for all his stoicism, Halowell welcomed the first sign of dawn ! The sight of the sun painting the purple clouds with crimson, and the sound of the birds carrolling greeting to the god of day, soothed him. But as the time drew near for the repetition of the previous day's ordeal the reserve the few hours' rest had built around his heart gave way and the old Halowell burst forth in a whirlwind of passion. His mouth lost its curve of suffering and was cut with a hard line. He would not be a martyr to a silly, irresponsible impulse a quixotic whim a dis- torted notion of honor! He would not give his life that a cur a miserable wretch whose existence had been, and would be, a lie might continue his puerile existence ! In a frenzy he beat on the door with his fists and roared for the guard. When, however, that drowsy offi- cial appeared, it was to find the prisoner the impassive, silent individual whom Bacon had delivered to him the previous day. For, be- fore the man had arrived there had flashed into Halowell 's mind a vision (a flower-tinted face A Man Struggles and is Victorious 259 with tender lips that drooped pitifully, and velvet eyes that were brimming with tears), and a fact (that he was not doing his martyr- dom for the man) . The girl would never know the impulse that had led the condemned traitor to his death. But the rope should do its work and welcome so that the flower-face did not wither and the velvet eyes dim. While these thoughts were directing the pris- oner's resolution the young sentry at the gate of the Ford House was rattling his musket to a charge and peering into the face of a haggard woman who was demanding admission to His Excellency. " What name, mistress ? " he asked, made courteous by a strange placidity in the white face of the applicant. On giving her name the newcomer was ushered up the curved walk and the three low wooden steps that led to the Headquarters' door. A couple of aides were in the narrow hall, brushing their cloaks and strapping on 260 Clayton Halowell their spurs preparatory to the day's work. Both the men knew the woman, but neither ventured a remark, the expression which the sentry had mistaken for placidity being plain enough to them. " In here, mistress," said the guide, and opened the door of an airy, square room, flooded with the early sunshine. Left alone, with incongruous deliberation Joyce noted the books, maps and papers which littered chairs, window-seats and portable shelves. A long table near the window bore a map of Virginia and North Carolina. A pair of horn glasses, a sword, and a triangular hat decorated with a black cockade, lay on a side- table. Beside the hearth, spread on a chair as if set out the previous evening to dry, was a huge black cloak. On the chimney-piece lay a pile of warrants labelled in staring black letters. This latter sight set the visitor shivering. The weakness was nothing, however, to that caused by the sound of approaching footsteps. Joyce rose and braced her nerves for the ordeal. A Man Struggles and is Victorious 261 When the door opened, instead of the mild, handsome countenance Joyce had expected, there appeared the merry brown one of Billy, the faithful body-servant of His Excellency. The man cast a quick look at the cloaked little figure standing beside the door, bowed, and proceeded to put the room in order and light the fire. Scarcely had the tasks been accomplished when the door opened again and the man before whose blows the might of England had re- coiled, and in whose calm eyes were centered the hopes of a nation and of one shivering girl, entered. The coldness of habitual self-repres- sion lined his mouth, only to be contradicted by the sadness which softened his blue eyes. The mulatto tiptoed across the room and vanished, closing the door behind him. The General paused an instant to survey his visitor. He had not discharged the duties of his arduous position for five years without hav- ing acquired a knowledge of the symptoms of distracted womanhood. Though his heart bled for each individual sufferer of the dozens who 262 Clayton Halowell daily sought his mercy for some erring dear one, their pain and his pity had never been placed above the public welfare. Joyce knew this and realized the hopelessness of her errand. But when Washington, after the momentary hesita- tion at the door, started forward and, with tender gallantry, placed a chair for her, she poured forth her plea for mercy as passionately as if its success were assured. Sobs often kept her silent for minutes, but the gentle gentle- man into whose heart the broken sentences were searing saw only the womanly suffering of the narrator, not the lavish and useless waste of precious moments the recital caused. " My poor little girl ! My poor little girl ! " he whispered, when she had finished and was gasping in her handkerchief. Joyce eagerly seized upon the pitying excla- mation. " Think too, of his record," she con- tinued. " It has been stainless. That should count in his favor. I know how greatly ap- pearances are against him, but he won't speak and he may be shielding some companion. Perhaps perhaps it is some one you or I know A Man Struggles and is Victorious 263 and love and respect. He would do such a thing for one he loved." The General's pity was as apparent as the sun and made the weight of his answer all the more terrible to the panting supplicant. " The very arguments you use, Mistress Dai- ton," he said, " recoil against Major Halowell. ' His record/ you say. It has been spotless. But surely the fact that up to now it has been so clear is the more reason why his crime should be considered the more heinous. Ah, you sob ! Think of the scores whom his treason has caused to sob before you. Think of the com- rades whom he has wilfully sacrificed. Think of our country, imperilled by his acts. And his silence. If he be shielding the real culprits (and there are surely more than he in this af- fair) is not the act also treason? He knows the penalty for such a crime and must speak or suffer." " I I love him so ! " Joyce sobbed. Washington's mouth grew more tender, and he laid a gentle hand on the bowed, quivering shoulders of his guest. 264 Clayton Halowell " I will not ask you to deny that love, my child," he said, a world of compassion ringing in his voice. " What I will say is this Try to live the love down, to think of it as a dream that brought a transient happiness, and van- ished with the morning sun. It sounds hard to you, I doubt not. It is hard; yet you must do it." The emphasis on the last sentence was marked and the girl dried her eyes in a des- perate kind of calm. "Then you will do nothing?" she whisp- ered, white-lipped. " I am powerless, as you must see." "And Clayton must must die?" The noble head bowed. " Unless he clears himself. The army demands a life for the many sacrificed by treason. And their demands are not only reasonable but just." Joyce smoothed her gloves mechanically, her heart too numb to feel the horror of her failure. Her calmness alarmed the General and he poured out a glass of brandy and held it to her. The girl's attention was riveted on the A Man Struggles and is Victorious 265 Grecian border cut in the tiny glass; on the pretty color of the liquor; on the effect of the sun-light through the rich brown; on every trivial circumstance connected with the glass and its contents. When Washington said, " Drink it, child," she shook her head. But at his sympathetic insistence she presently gulped the liquid and felt stronger in body for it. When she reached home, however, where the surroundings were eloquent of her love, the dam of strained inactivity gave away. She did not cry now but sat in the bow-window, a white, motionless statue amid the brilliant geraniums, so terrifying in her silent agony that her brother neglected to blaze into anger when he learned the errand that had taken her out at such an hour. The sun was not many hours high when its brightness became obscured in banks of flat, gray clouds and a curtain of warm, sticky, per- sistent rain. A mist crept up from the soaked earth, blurring the hills and hanging like a pall 266 Clayton Halowell upon the crowded town-green. At the height of the weather's inclemency a corporal's guard tramped into a crowded room, a sternly com- posed man in their midst. The court was settled. At the head of the long, paper-strewn table sat the president, a white-haired infantry colonel. On either side, stretching to the judge-advocate's chair at the foot of the board, were officers from every branch of the service, gathered to pass judg- ment upon their delinquent comrade. Before each judge, forming a rim of color to the dis- ordered files of paper and piles of books, lay a chapeau, busby or helmet. Two candelabra lit the double row of impassive faces and brought those of the spectators into peculiar promi- nence. Halowell was idly sorry the lights had been placed there, for they showed familiar faces grown unrecognizing and hard. The prisoner paid no attention to the routine business of opening court. His eyes, after their first general survey of the scene, slipped rapidly from face to face with a suppressed half-hope, half-dread. Was Joyce present? Finally he A Man Struggles and is Victorious 267 saw her watching from the voluminous shelter of a group of honest countrywomen who were alternately admiring the prisoner's handsome face and remembering a son or a cousin or a sweetheart who had perished in the winter raids. The girl smiled bravely in answer to a dumb appeal for faith. Halowell tried to an- swer the smile with one as cheerful, and was succeeding fairly well when a sudden silence portended the beginning of the serious business and distracted him. The judge-advocate had risen and the court-martial was in its last dread work. " My evidence, gentlemen," the advocate began, " has been offered. I have no more witnesses to call, and have only to ask the pris- oner if, at this critical state of affairs, he will break his silence and either confess or deny the charges against him." " Prisoner ! " said the white-haired president, and Halowell rose. " Prisoner, will you confess to, or deny, the charges against you? " The silence deepened as each spectator held his or her breath that no syllable of the answer 268 Clayton Halowell might be lost. Yet there was no occasion for perturbation; when the prisoner spoke it was in a voice distinctly audible to the furthest ends of the room. " I regret, sir, any seeming disrespect to the court, but I can make no exception in even this case to the rule I have adhered to during this trial." " You have nothing to state ? " " I have nothing to say, sir." " Then, gentlemen, my case is closed," an- nounced the advocate, and, upon the prisoner's resuming his seat, began his summing up. For some months, he said, the commander-in-chief had been aware of the existence of a clique of traitors from whom the enemy obtained ad- vance information of every movement of Con- tinental troops. From the magnitude of the operations carried on by these traitors it was evi- dent their numbers were considerable and their organization perfect, and that they had access to the inmost workings of the army machinery. Of late these men (Halowell smiled faintly at the use of the masculine noun) had grown bold A Man Struggles and is Victorious 269 to impudence and, in conformity with the old adage, had been given rope with which to hang themselves. One of the band, the prisoner, had been captured red-handed, with the appurten- ances and proofs of his crimes in his possession. He had not confessed, nor had he denied any one of the several charges. Proof positive, however, had been offered by a dozen reliable witnesses that the highwayman who had fired on Lieutenant Buckwell (Halowell noted the title and was glad Buckwell's reward had come so quickly) had been of the same height and figure as the prisoner. Captain Bacon and Trooper Krause had testified to the attempt of the prisoner to secrete a certain mask, the same designated in evidence as exhibit C. As to any question in the minds of the honorable court regarding the possibility of passing from the scene of the attempted crime to the scene of the arrest within the half hour between the prisoner's meeting with Captain Bacon and his being taken into custody, trial had proven that the feat was not only possible but extremely easy, thanks to an old forage track through the 270 Clayton Halowell forest in the rear of the cantonment The whole case, viewed calmly and dispassionately, showed treason or treasonable complicity; and in face of the overwhelming mass of fact and proof offered, there was only one conclusion to draw only one verdict to be rendered. That conclusion was " guilty," and the verdict should be " Guilty." The officer resumed his seat amid a murmur of applause. The demonstration being quickly suppressed, Clayton watched the judges con- verse and rustle through files of paper, as unin- terested as if their discourse concerned the proper calibre of guns for a new fortification, or the number of men necessary for a move on New York. Soon he tired of the watching and, not daring to trust himself to seek Joyce, turned to the window and found amusement in the family quarrel of four sparrows on the limb of a nearby tree. He noted that the rain had ceased and that the mist was rolling away from the river, disclosing Olive's great house on the further slope and the lines of waving trees on A Man Struggles and is Victorious 271 the far-away hills. Then he was sternly bidden to rise. The lack of movement in the room was op- pressive. An attendant had blown out the candles, and the odor of hot wax was noticeable above that of damp leather. Every eye was riveted upon the impassive face and steady lips of the prisoner. Joyce felt a wild, almost un- controllable desire to shriek. The dire sol- emnity of the occasion rose superior to the mean, stuffy, dusty room. A man, a former comrade, a fellow-officer, was to hear his doom. " Prisoner," the president began. " Prisoner, if you have aught to say as to why the verdict of guilty should not be pronounced against you, speak." For an instant the epaulettes of the judges bobbed erratic jigs before Halowell's eyes. He involuntarily sought the still, white face in the corner. Reading therein a misery which would only be increased a thousand fold by knowledge of the truth, he shook his head. 2J2 Clayton Halowell " I have nothing to say, Colonel," he said steadily. The president was puzzled and showed it. In spite of all proof to the contrary, he found it hard to believe that a soldier of Major Halo- well's known valor could stoop to deliberate spying and felonious connivance. But his duty was to the army and the country, and his fea- tures hardened after a momentary relaxation. " Will you state the names of your com- panions in treason? " he asked coldly. " Such an action, I may say, will materially affect our sentence." Again the steady eyes sought Joyce's dim ones, and again the clear, " I have nothing to say, Colonel," rang through the still room. " You have considered your answer ? " per- sisted the president. " Thoroughly, sir." " Then a painful duty is at least made easier. His Excellency has been lenient and, for the sake of your past deeds, granted a trial rather than exercise his prerogative and deal with you summarily. The trial has been carefully con- "I have nothing to say, Colonel." Page 272. A Man Struggles and is Victorious 273 ducted, due allowance having been made for your refusal to permit yourself to be defended and every consideration having been given to the facts as presented. The proof against you is conclusive. This court finds you guilty of high treason. It directs that you be executed an hour after sunrise to-morrow, in the manner customary with spies. And may God have mercy on your soul ! " Amid a tense, nerve-drawn silence the colonel resumed his seat. But Halowell stood a rigid, broad-shouldered figure casting a long shadow over the disordered table. The sun came out and painted a square of yellow radiance on the floor at his feet. The quarrel- some sparrows suddenly ceased their chirping and flew away. " As is customary with spies ! " It had come, and it was horrible. So here ended all the fine dreams of power and glory. Here ended all the strivings and heart-aches. He turned his eyes for the last time to Joyce, and hugged to his breast the thought that he had saved the girl a deeper pain. Then a wo- man's cry rang out; the court rose with a 274 Clayton Halowell shuffle of feet and a clank of sabres; the cor- poral stepped forward; and the condemned spy, his chin up and his lips smiling, was led through a passage of silent humanity. CHAPTER XVII WHEREIN JOYCE LEADS A FORLORN HOPE " CLAYTON/' At the sound of the voice pronouncing his name the prisoner whirled around. In the dusk of the doorway, beside the guard, stood the little figure which was so inexpressibly dear to him. " The lady's to talk to you for just twenty minutes," the guard explained gruffly. (Why a woman should waste tears on a cold-blooded, murdering devil was more than he could un- derstand.) " I'll close the door; but I'll be on the outside, so no tricks, mind." " Clayton, I've come," faltered Joyce, and held out her hands simply; and as simply the man placed them on his shoulders and kissed the lips that were quivering up to him. The girl was not crying, but her agony was appar- 275 276 Clayton Halowell ent in her drawn, haggard cheeks and strained voice. " Then you don't believe it, sweetheart? you don't believe it ? " Halowell cried, and the joy of her trust wiped away all the horrors of his plight. " You don't believe it, sweetheart? " Joyce shuddered and pressed closer to him. "Oh, no, no, no!" she cried sharply. "You couldn't have done it. I I know you are shielding someone, a coward " A gentle hand upon her lips interrupted the speech. Clayton was looking down at her oddly. Then he stooped and kissed her again, she in turn, clinging to him, her arms around his neck, her cheek pressed to his. For a full minute they stood silent. Then he put her gently from him and his lips writhed as if he were in torture. " Would you have me do otherwise than shield the man? " he asked hoarsely. " I inter- fered with his flight and and would you have me do otherwise ? " Joyce was upon his breast again, her eyes burning imploringly into his. "Oh, my dar- Joyce Leads a Forlorn Hope 277 ling, I would, I would ! Clayton, Clayton, you must listen to me There is time. When Mr. Washington gave me my pass, he said there was time to save you if you could only be per- suaded to tell who the traitors are. He told me that, dearest, and he believes in you, only only he must punish you because you make him. Don't you see you can save yourself ! If you die that death if you die, I shall die too. I shall pray to God to let me die ! " The girl flung herself sobbing upon the cot. Halowell turned away and groaned. God ! Was ever man so tempted ! The sister beseech- ing the lover to give the brother to the rope. And the lover in love with the supplicant and with life ! The man moistened his lips and tried to speak, to answer, to comfort, but the stiff flesh refused its office; and he dared not even glance toward the prostrate figure for fear his determination would break. After many of the precious twenty minutes had been wasted Joyce's sobs grew weaker. Then, and only then, was Halowell sufficiently master of himself to dare sit beside her. She 278 Clayton Halowell looked so frail, and, withal so beautiful, in the disorder of her grief, that his struggle had to be re-fought. But strength had returned to him, and the second fight with the flesh was shorter and less severe than had been the first. " Sweetheart," he said, clasping one cold lit- tle hand within his own cold palms. " Sweet- heart, we must bow to Fate. In Her infinite mercy She sent me to you and gave me five precious, precious weeks of happiness. In her infinite wisdom She is taking me away. But I have tasted and am content to bow. I'm not a good man, darling; I've been hard and violent and reckless all my life. It's in my blood Joyce, and I could no more fight against it than a dog can overcome his hatred for a rat. Your love might have purged me; yet what am I to pit a hazard against Fate's certainty ? Ah, you need not protest; I know too well that I am saying truth. I am to go to-morrow ; and with me goes dishonor. So be it. At least they cannot take away this moment, and the memory of my hap- piness. And your love will help me be a better man in the next world." Joyce Leads a Forlorn Hope 279 Joyce raised her tear-stained face, but though her lips quivered, no sound came forth. Clayton kissed her gently, reverently, and con- tinued : " In time, my darling, you will marry will marry a man who will be your companion and guide. It is inevitable, and if it will be a source of comfort to you it is my wish. Let me be an incident of your youth " " Beg pardon, mistress." The guard was at the door, touching his ragged hat. " Beg par- don, mistress, but time's up." Joyce turned her ghastly, startled face to the intruder. Only, however, when he had re- peated his horrible words did she seem to grasp his meaning. It was the last time she would ever see Clayton! In the morning he would be her face changed from white to gray, and she pressed her hands upon her bosom as if to still the tumult raging there. Her mute agony made the guard turn his eyes aside and shuffle uneasily. Halowell, watching her, gripped the edge of the pallet until his hands were cut by the blunt 280 Clayton Halowell wood. Then, " Come, little woman," he whis- pered, rising and holding out his arms. The girl tottered to her feet, made one blind step toward her lover, and collapsed. The guard ran for- ward to raise her, but a look from the prisoner caused him to shrink away hastily. Very gently Clayton raised the slender form ; very gently he kissed the cold lips and the waxen, curl-enframed forehead. And as dis- passionately as if he were bidding a sleeping child an hour's farewell he held her out to the blubbering sentry. " Send her home quickly," he said. (He did not recognize a single tone of his own voice.) " Send her home quickly." For many minutes after the door had closed and the squdge of wheels had ceased, Halowell sat on his bed, livid and motionless. Three men entered and stripped him of his uniform the blue and white he had disgraced. He endured them calmly, and almost smiled when he recog- nised his best maroon-velvet coat in the bundle they left for him. Then a chaplain came, a gaunt Bostonian of the most pronounced Cal- Joyce Leads a Forlorn Hope 281 vinistic type, and poured dozens of Bible verses, and a somewhat hazy discourse on the joys of Heaven and true repentance, into his deaf ears. When, however, the divine started to paint the horrors of Hell the prisoner cried savagely that he wished to be left alone to die his death in his own way, whereupon the preacher, drawing up his thin form, hurled the church's curse at the unrepentant sinner and stalked away with small trace of Christian for- giveness in his hard, lined face. The closing hours of light the prisoner spent in writing three letters one to Dalton, one to Olive, and the third to Joyce. The task finished, he ate of the brown bread and salt fish which composed his supper; threw himself upon the bed; and forgot that his sleep was the last he would enjoy on earth. For, if campaigning and a life of continual danger brings no other gifts, it at least teaches men to die with good grace, and to sleep soundly in strained situa- tions. 282 Clayton Halowell If it were not for the fact that all things must end, the Melancholy Dane's famous query could be answered off-hand in the negative. To Joyce, though, the afternoon seemed an endless succession of horrible visions and exquisite agonies. Upon her return from the prison her brother had helped her to the lounge in his study. Then, immersed in his own selfish fears (Halowell might break down at the last mo- ment), he took no further physical notice of her. Mentally he was busy bolstering his con- science with the fact that Clayton had made the sacrifice voluntarily and with the knowledge that misery does not kill at eighteen. Indeed, a sort of fierce satisfaction that his earlier de- feat had been thus expiated, tinged his thoughts rosily. The half-formed ideas of escape with which he had silenced the cries of his better nature during the first hours of his victim's capture had been succeeded by a sullen apathy, a vindictive resolve that the road to Olive's love and his future peace of mind should be cleared of the last obstacle if his passivity could accom- plish that result. But into his satisfaction for- Joyce Leads a Forlorn Hope 283 ever would creep the disquieting possibility that Halowell might break down. It occurred to him now and made him look up restlessly from the pile of letters he was pretending to arrange. Curse laggard Time! Would the clock never move ! After supper he could endure the strain no longer, and, with a hasty good-night to Joyce, flung on his cloak and strode off to Headquarters to learn the latest news. Left alone, Joyce crept to the chintz sitting- room and laid her cold cheek upon the high- backed chair that had been her lover's favorite seat, and which was still standing lovingly near the geraniums, just as he had risen from it. The spinnet was open but dumb ; the chocolate service on the little side-table was ranged about the candelabra just as if it were to be used to- morrow. The room was too utterly mournful with its associations and the girl sprang to her feet and fled, crying softly. The hours she spent in her chamber, alternately burning and shivering from the fever in her veins and the seething rebellion in her brain, were blanks. The sigh of the wind as it swept over the hills, 284 Clayton Halowell and the dreary rustle of the willows beside the river, moaned her thoughts and whispered their eternal "Why?" Why did she live? Why had she been allowed to love this man ? Why should he be the ordained sacrifice of a crime of which he was guiltless? Why why always the cry of a troubled heart the cry that strikes to the root of the universe and is forever unan- swerable. Joyce remembered vaguely of see- ing George return and of being oppressed by the unnatural voices which seemed to have im- pregnated the night. She watched the lights in the town go out, one by one. Minutes were as seconds and hours as minutes : time was en- gulfed in the troubled sea of her misery. Be- fore she had realized that the night was spent, a livid streak shot into the sky. She rubbed her aching eyes and stared heavily at the har- binger of death. Its light woke the valley. A string of wagons crawled up the side of Mount Kemble and stood in bold relief against the whitened clouds. In the cattle-pens which edged the Newark Pike steers began to low thirstily. On the road itself, early aids and tired Joyce Leads a Forlorn Hope 285 sentries congregated. She heard a step in the yard and saw George, cloaked as for a ride but without spurs (she noted the details listlessly), glide through the gate and disappear. The day had dawned. Presently, above the vaguer sounds of the awakening camps, the girl heard the clatter of a galloping horse. As she had noted the dis- crepancies of her brother's costume, so now she listened to the rhythmic pound of noofs as the wind blew the sound now loud, now soft, into her ears. After a brief interval the sounds ceased, and were replaced by the slop of hoofs in the mud of the lane. Before she could won- der at the intrusion the horse had appeared be- tween the syringa bushes, and a series of knocks was threatening to rip the clapper from its hinges. She crept stiffly down to the door and opened it. A woman, tall and graceful and muddy and dishevelled, clutched her shoulders and gasped thickly, without the least saluta- tion, "When is it to be? When is it to be? Quick, for the love of God ! " 286 Clayton Halowcll " Madam de Laurent ! " " Yes, yes, yes! Where is he, and when is the the execution to " A deep breath cut the question and Olive caught at the door. " Have we time ? " she gasped. There is nothing so sharp as the wits of a woman in love. Though Joyce had good rea- son to be curious at this unexpected visitor's agitation, she divined that something extraor- dinary was about to occur and that the some- thing affected Clayton's life. " You can save him ? " she asked simply ; and to Olive's short affirmative, said, " Wait here," and ran up stairs and was down again in a moment, cloaked for the road. " I'll take you to him." To the girl's surprise Olive stooped and kissed her. "You love him too?" she whis- pered, almost fiercely. " More than anything in the world." " Then hasten hasten ! " By the time the stiff buckles of Joyce's saddle had been mastered, what with the delay and the suspense and the nervous strain of her all-night Joyce Leads a Forlorn Hope 287 journey, Olive was crying. Womanly divina- tion disclosed the truth to the girl, and she found solace to her own grief in comforting her companion. On the road, in a few words, Olive told her story: how she had heard of Clayton's arrest and conviction only the previous evening, and had come from Dover post to save him. Five miles from Mendham the coach had broken down and she had completed the journey on one of the postillion horses. " God knows why I do it ! " she finished, in a burst of passionate bitterness. " I've tried often enough to have him torn from you. He loved me once and I My whole life has been a curse, a plague, a disease from which there is no escape but in death. I wish I were dead! I wish I were dead ! " " Hush," said Joyce softly. The livid streaks in the clouds had turned pink, and a gray light was filtering through the ground-mist when the two women crossed the village green and entered deserted Main street. Before the Court House had been a88 Clayton Halo well passed a long yellow ray had shot over the hori- zon. Olive muffled a cry and her eyes were as menacing and furious as those of a lioness robbed of her cubs. " If we are late ! " she gasped. " If we are late I swear the man who did this thing shall die and rot and be carrion before another day ! " " Pray God we are in time," said Joyce. Madam turned her burning eyes upon this child who had won her lover from her without so much as an effort, and who was the uncon- scious cause of his nearness to death. " Pray pray if that will help : I cannot ! " She did not look as if she were lying. "Joyce, dear Joyce, pray for him and and pray for me." CHAPTER XVIII WHEREIN THE END IS ATTAINED " IT is time, prisoner." Halowell rolled over and beheld a solemn- visaged cavalry-captain standing over him. At the foot of the pallet the lank New England chaplain was droning forth Bible quotations, with a surgeon yawning at his side and six troopers staring over his shoulders. In the hall were the helmets of a dozen more men. And, by the jingle and tramping in the street, there was at least a troop assembled without. " Time, is it? " said Halowell, rising slowly. And then, " Have I the privilege of knowing where the execution is to take place? " The captain had turned away to issue an order and so did not hear the question. The surgeon was stifling an extraordinary yawn and could not answer it. And the chaplain did not choose to interrupt the flow of his elo- 289 290 Clayton Halowell quence on the frivolous pretext of replying. Clayton Halowell began to dress, a queer smile hovering on the corners of his mouth. He would like to have sworn at the chaplain, but somehow the words tripped. He contented himself, therefore, with using his powder- shaker vigorously, and jerking his queue-rib- bon as if it were the world's throat. "Will somebody please tell me where my coat is," he said presently. The captain received a bundle from one of his troopers and advanced with it. " This was left for you last night, and as it is more appropriate than the other, I have taken the liberty of substituting it." The condemned man flushed angrily and drew himself up to his full height. " It was a liberty, sir a damnable piece of impertinence ! Can't a man dress as he pleases for his last ap- pearance in public ? I " Someone cut the cord of the parcel, and the sight of a handsome coat of black watered-silk, silver-laced on the lapels, cuffs, pocket-flaps, and seams, appeased Clayton's wrath. He The End is Attained 291 took the glittering mass to the window, and, regardless of the chaplain's exhortation to ab- jure the vanities of the world, examined it with pleased surprise, admiring its every separate silver arabesque and glossy breadth in un- affected delight. " Mr. Borden left it for you," continued the captain. " He asked me especially to see that you" Halowell did not listen to the retailment of Borden's request. He lost interest in his new possession at once and fingered it uncertainly. What did the gift mean? The problem was answered almost before it was formed in the discovery of a slit beneath the heavily laced collar. The breaking of a few bastings would lay the wearer's neck bare for a certain band of hemp. The devilish implacability of the gift revolted Halowell ; then, strong as was his repulsion, he donned the garment. Un- doubtedly Borden would be present at the exe- cution, and his triumph should not be absolute. At the prison door an open wagon, guarded by two files of troopers, was standing to receive 292 Clayton Halowell the condemned man. Clayton swung himself lightly into the body of the vehicle and found a seat upon the significant pine box which formed its only furniture. The chaplain ascended more deliberately; the troopers jingled into close order; and the cortege started. Down the silent street and into a back lane it trotted, the sun slanting impartially upon the faded uni- forms of the guard and the brilliant coat of the prisoner. A gentle wind was stirring the blos- som-laden trees and rippling the blue thread of river in the valley. The perfume of moist earth and flowering shrubs scented the air. Birds sang; and cottage windows gleamed cosily through net-works of delicate green tracery; and smoke rose from a hundred chimneys. To Halowell the earth seemed an animated picture which some pitying friend was spreading be- fore his eyes. Then the wagon jolted around an abrupt twist, bumped a rod or two through a throng of silent men, and halted. The sight of his fellow creatures had the effect of banishing the prisoner's dispassionate The End is Attained 293 calm. He glanced about keenly. The place was an orchard that sloped to the river a square of emerald velvet below, a mass of clus- tering pink blossoms above. The gibbet was an apple tree heavy, like its fellows, with blos- soms and perfume. Its beauty and odor inter- ested Halowell until a trooper climbed into the gnarled depths and adjusted a noosed rope, at which sight the prisoner suddenly lost in- terest and turned away. Beyond the cordon of guards was the silent throng through which the wagon had lately passed. A few civilians had defied the bland- ishments of Morpheus, and braved the early dampness, to witness the execution : but their number was scarcely noticeable in that of the soldiers (cavalrymen, ragged infantrymen, linen-frocked riflemen, and blue and scarlet ar- tillerymen), which had been bound in a com- mon brotherhood and drawn by a common curiosity to see the traitor die. A figure on the outskirts of the orchard caught and held Halowell's attention. The figure was more closely muffled than the sea- 294 Clayton Halowell son required, and had a peculiar expression on its paste- white face, an expression half of ferocity, half of fright. Dalton had battled against the impulse to attend the execution. But the subtle attraction which draws criminals to the scene of their crime had proven, in this case as in others, too strong to be resisted. As he felt his victim's gaze he shrank into the shel- ter of a tree, his face wet and distorted with the startled defiance of a murderer surprised with the blood on his hands, a forger discovered by a trusted employer with the ink yet wet. Halo- well's heart filled with a savage hatred and his eyes, even though he smiled faintly at the other's weak terror, were murderous. It was not the Halowell whom Joyce had called into being and known and loved, that was dying ; it was rather the ex-tavern-lounger, the reckless trooper, the dare-devil officer of the days pre- vious to the trip to Philadelphia. The chrys- alis of tenderness which had enveloped his spirits during the brief weeks of his happines? had fallen away to allow the old brazen, swag- gering Halowell to stare the Grim Reaper out The End is Attained 295 of countenance and laugh as the scythe hissed toward him. Another man, pushing his broad, suave face over the crupper of a nearby horse, claimed the prisoner's attention when he had dismissed Dai- ton from his mind. There was something in the vindictive triumph of this second counte- nance which suggested Satan masquerading in ungainly flesh. Borden, far from shrinking at his share of the tragedy, nodded and drew his lips into a grin of enjoyment. At length a score was to be evened and a profitable profes- sion made secure. The guards, meanwhile, were going about their several tasks in a grimly business-like way, fastening the prisoner's arms to his side, cutting the bastings of his collar, and finally bandaging his eyes. Before the first indignity Clayton managed to draw a tiny packet from his breast and slip it into his right hand. Though the action was swift, the cavalry captain detected it, and, " Open your right hand ! " came his harsh command. A tremor (his first) shook the bound and 296 Clayton Halowell blindfolded prisoner. He slowly uncurled his fingers and a bit of tissue-paper fluttered to the ground like a broken petal, disclosing a dried carnation. A breath, like the stirring of the air before a storm, rose from the wondering onlookers. " You may close your hand," the captain said : and to counteract the momentary softness of his voice, read the approved verdict of the court, and the warrant under which he acted, in his coldest tones. When he had finished the stillness was so intense that the rattle of the river a hundred yards away was loud to the ear. Only the figure in the cart high above the as- sembled heads seemed insensible to the awe of the moment. He had been permitted to keep his flower, so why the necessity of solemnity. " Ugh ! You might at least have used a new rope, Captain," he exclaimed. " Have you any message for your unhappy relatives ? " asked the chaplain rebukingly. " I'm the last of the line, sir, for which mercy I thank God." " Do you wish to make a statement? " asked The End is Attained 297 the captain. That he thought the prisoner guilty was patent in his manner. " This rev- erend gentleman will transmit your words to the proper persons." " Thank you, sir, and the reverend gentle- man also, but I am quite prepared for that which I am called upon to bear. Making state- ments is poor work at best. Now sir, with your permission, I am ready," and the Major shook himself like a dog clearing his coat of water. The Captain's hand went up to give the sig- nal that would precipitate a spy into Eternity. But the trooper at the head of the cart-horse was not heeding his captain, his eyes, in com- mon with those of the throng, being fixed on two women who had suddenly come into sight galloping madly along the golden road. The broad, suave civilian saw the women and dis- appeared, cursing. The muffled figure behind the tree saw them and shivered from top to toe. Through the orchard gate, into the midst of the spectators the twain raced. The foremost was Madam, and she spurred to the very edge of the cart. 298 Clayton Halowell " Take him down ! " she cried hoarsely. As the staring soldiers made no move, she gasped, " Take him down, I say, you hounds ! Hounds? curs rather; at least a hound would know its quarry." " You speak in riddles, Madam," said the Captain. " By what right do you command me to disobey explicit orders ? " Joyce had reached the side of, anr 1 laid a re- straining hand upon, her turbulent companion. Her face was aqu'ver with the horror of her race with Death, but her every nerve was under control. " Madam de Laurent is distraught," she said to the Captain. At sound of her voice the prisoner (who had scarcely changed his posi- tion since his words announcing his readiness for the execution) started as if stabbed. " We pray that this punishment be delayed. Madam has evidence of Mr. Halowell's inno- cence, and " " Evidence ! " Olive's voice rose above the sudden rustle and buzz of the watching throng. " Evidence ! I have none that is not patent to The End is Attained 299 all here. Fools! Triple fools that you are! " she went on, the words tumbling, burning, from her white lips. " Sheep, cattle, babies, to be led and be content to follow when you have but to look in your midst to behold the culprit of the crime for which a gentleman you are not fit to stand before is near to death. Look ; look, I say, there, there, THERE ! " Olive's voice had risen to a discordant scream, the ring of which caused the surgeon to move suddenly forward and frown up into her face. Her finger, dread, trembling and ac- cusative, was at Dalton's head. For an instant Dalton was as water, weak and wet. Then an invisible power galvanized him; his cheeks flushed; his mouth hardened as Olive had never before seen it harden : and he was beside his accuser, a man ready to dare, no longer a weakling shrinking from the result of his handiwork. " So ! " he said quietly, and drew a pistol from beneath his coat. The on-lookers, sur- feited with sensation, accepted the move as if it were part of the ceremony they had 300 Clayton Halowell come to witness. " So it is finished, Olive : the main is thrown and the stake lost. I've one bullet here," and he tapped the barrel of his pistol. " Which shall it be for you or me? No, gentlemen, there must be no inter- ference," as the Captain and Surgeon and Chaplain recovered the senses the unex- pected turn of events had deprived them of, and started forward. " This is a personal af- fair, sirs. If it will relieve your minds I'll say the bullet will be for the first who molests me. Olive, which of us two shall have the pellet? " Before Olive could reply Joyce was dis- mounted and before her brother. " George ! " she cried, in a thrilling whisper. " George! " The man stared silently at the panting girl. Then, " I meant he should die," he said evenly. " I I was in his power if he lived, and I hated him for what he had been to one I loved. Now you know the truth," and he turned away, unheedful of the speechless agony his words had called into being. " Olive," he continued. " Olive, I loved you very dearly. Honor, coun- The End is Attained 301 try, friends, sister I gave up all for you. I love you now, Olive even at this moment when I am ruined by you, denounced from your lips. Well, there's a way out," and the click of the cocking trigger startled the heavy silence. At the sound Halowell broke the spell which had held him speechless. " Dal ton, you're mad! Think of your sister, if of nothing dearer. Captain, let the execution go on: if I have kept silent until now it was because I feared to speak. But you hear me, all I shot Heath's express : I sent the information of Stirling's raid to Knyphausen: I tried to get Buckwell's dispatches. In God's name let the execution go on ! " Dalton allowed the torrent of self-accusation to flow unchecked. At its close, " You lie, Halowell," he said, in the dispas- sionate calm that had deadened his voice since Olive's denunciation. " You lie. I did all you claim, and more of which you know noth- ing. Proof ? You'll find a plenty in the secret compartment of the middle drawer of my desk. 302 Clayton Halowcll To you, Chaplain, I entrust this matter. Halo- well, see that Joyce forgets. Olive, I loved you well in an unwise way. May God have mercy on me ! " Before foot could be stirred, and with Madam de Laurent staring apathetically at her broken tool, there sounded a muffled report. A pulse-beat of silence held the world (for even the birds ceased their song at the fell crackle), and then a body struck the ground with a dull thud that was sickening to hear. In the scream that followed Halowell was endowed with the strength of a maniac, and broke the bands which pinioned him, and tore the bandage from his eyes. In the center of a swaying ring of humanity he beheld a prostrate man and girl. Above the twain, dry-eyed, mud-splashed from spur to feather, erect in her saddle, sat a woman. Behind were the Captain, and the Surgeon, and the throng. And over all, men, and women, and corpse, swayed the pink-laden trees and the gorgeous sunshine. " Mr. Edwards," the Captain said presently, The End is Attained 303 and turned to the surgeon, " I bespeak your offices for Madam. Colton, release Mr. Halo- well. To you, Major, I entrust Mistress Dai- ton. When you can leave her, report to Head- quarters. Earle, Bye, Gardner, convey Cap- tain Dalton to the Provost. Troop, fall in!" There were many present who would have shaken the erstwhile prisoner's hand but who dared not make the move. Indeed, they drew away and parted as, with an unconscious girl in his arms and his eyes stern as Death, the man strode across the waving grass. As he passed into the highway a gust of wind sent a shower of perfumed petals upon him, powder- ing his shoulders and hiding Joyce's face be- neath a delicate blanket. The fragrance and opportuneness of the deluge stirred an un- thought-of well of tenderness within the man. Shuddering, he saw the hair-margin which had brought him near to losing his love. And in the same quiver he saw the depth of the girl's misery. With infinite tenderness he stooped and kissed the waxen forehead. He must be 304 Clayton Halowell more than lover now: more than husband. He must be Life. Hours later, after the sun had passed merid- ian and sunk low in the red west, after a dis- honored corpse had been buried by a squad of grumbling men and watched over by one silent on-looker, two men stood beside a bed in the cottage in the lane that had led Halowell so often to Paradise. " She is sleeping," said the older man, a surgeon by the green on his uniform. " It was nip and tuck for her reason up to an hour ago. I can't do anything more now. I'll come again about eight." " She'll live? " asked Halowell simply. The surgeon nodded. " To be a hundred, with proper care. Good-day." If, a moment after his exit, he had returned to the sick-chamber, he would have witnessed a strong man's relief from terrifying agony. FINIS. A 000034426 7