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.
 
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