II

He rode into the city well aware that the first news to reach him would be that of the exodus of the Arnolds.

"You came straight through town, I suppose?"

"Yes," replied Stephen.

"And came here direct?" continued Mr. Allison.

"I quartered my mare, first. I thought immediately of the Inn as the place to gather the news. So I hastened hither."

"There's been heaps doin'," Jim remarked casually.

"Never saw such excitement since the day of the regiment," observed the keeper of the Inn, a well-mannered and well-educated gentleman, above middle age, who held the enviable position of inn-keeper and lawyer alike. Every inn-keeper of this age commanded much of respect in the community, for it was he who received the money of the people, and money commanded the necessities of life—a good bed, good things to eat, attentive servants; but Mr. Smith, the keeper of the Old London Coffee House, was the most respectable inn-keeper in the city, the proud possessor of a very pretty library and an excellent table where cleanliness and decency vied with dignity and self-respect.

"Arnold, you know, has left the city," volunteered Mr. Allison.

"Yes, I have surmised," was the reply.

"Gone, an' all belongin' to 'im."

"And closed his mansion?" Stephen inquired.

"Tight. Mrs. Arnold went with him. They left yesterday."

"But I thought——"

"To the army? I understand he had been appointed to field duty under Washington. Second in Command, they say. But that has been changed. He has gone to West Point."

Stephen did not answer.

"It seems," went on Mr. Allison, "that he has been seeking a change of post for several months. His leg still bothers him, however, and very likely prevented him from doing active duty in the field. On that account, it has been said, he was given charge of the fortress. It is an important post, nevertheless, and carries with it a certain amount of distinction."

"Hope he gits along better with 'em up there 'n he did here," remarked Jim. "He won't hev the s'ciety folks t' bother 'im now."

"When did he leave?"

"No one knows. There was no demonstration of any kind. It differed much from the farewell of General Howe. Arnold left in disgrace, it would seem," said the Inn-keeper, as he moved away to give his attention to other business.

"And Peggy gone, too?" Stephen was genuinely surprised at this, for he rather expected that she would remain with her mother.

"I am sure that the majority of our people are greatly pleased at the change," said Mr. Allison. "I never saw one sink to such depths of contempt. He came to the city as Military Governor in a blaze of triumph, the most celebrated soldier in the army, whose rise to popular esteem was only accelerated by the knowledge of the harsh treatment received by him at the hands of Congress after the battle of Saratoga. He was the idol alike of soldiers and civilians. Their hearts were his without the asking. That was two years ago. Today he left the city in the fullness of his years, in secret, after so many plaudits, in obloquy, after so much honor."

"It is a sad commentary on human nature," Stephen observed. "Yet in all things else I blame the woman. 'Cherchez la femme.'"

The room already was reeky from the clouds of tobacco smoke streaming upwards from the pipes of the several guests who were lounging in small groups about the room. There were several parties in as many corners, each wholly unconcerned about the other. The conversation of our trio was therefore private insofar as any privacy can be expected in an inn. Only the boisterous individual made himself heard, and then only to the displeasure of the others.

Leaving the two at the Inn, Stephen bade them adieu and directed his journey in the direction of Second Street. Hastening his steps he soon reached the Germantown road, and as he turned the bend perceived the familiar outline of the Allison home. Little did he suspect, however, that the curtains of one of the upper windows concealed a lithe form and that his swift gait was being interpreted with a world of meaning. He laid his hand on the gate, and even then Marjorie had opened the door to meet him.