"After that, a number of different people lived there till 1817. Then the city began to reach up this way, and they decided to put regular streets through here and make city blocks. Of course they couldn't leave a high hill like that standing, so they leveled it and lowered the house gradually to the street, and it stood somewhere right about here. I can't make out the very spot, for some books say it was on the north side of Charlton Street, and others, on the south side. And one even said it faced on Varick Street. But anyway, right near this spot it stood; and as no one seemed to want such a big place for a residence any more, it became a sort of hotel or tavern.

"Then, some one else bought it and turned it into a theater, and for several years it was called the Richmond Hill Theater. But it wasn't very successful, so after a while it was sold again, and this time became a menagerie and circus. Later it was turned into a tavern again. But at last, in 1849, it was so old and rickety that they tore it down and put up these nice little houses over the place where it stood. That's all there is about it. Now are you convinced that I wasn't crazy?"

"It seems too wonderful to be true!" sighed Margaret. "To think we're living right on the spot where all these strange things happened to Alison! I can scarcely believe I'm not asleep and dreaming all this. But, oh, there are so many questions I want to ask! For instance, I can't yet understand how it was that if Madame Mortier was a Tory, Washington could have his headquarters at her house. Couldn't she have forbidden it?"

"Why, it seems to be this way," answered Corinne. "In war time then, as well as now, the army that was occupying a city could do about as it pleased—used all the houses and food and so forth that it felt inclined to, whether the things belonged to the enemy or not. Sometimes they would pay the people for them, and sometimes they didn't—just took them. I suppose Washington had to have headquarters out of town for some reason, and the only available place was Richmond Hill. He was probably sorry enough to cause Madame Mortier any inconvenience, and no doubt he offered her all reasonable compensation. For I read in one book that Washington made it a rule that this should be done whenever it was necessary to use any one's house or goods. If she didn't like it, he couldn't help that. Matters were too serious for him to quibble about such things.

"That's my only explanation of your question, Margaret. But what puzzles me even more is how did Alison come to be there at all? Who was she? Why did she leave Bermuda, and what did she do before she left it that caused her to be under suspicion?"

As no one could throw any light on these mysteries, they all remained silent a moment. Suddenly Jess, who had been turning the pages of the blank-book in which Margaret had copied the journal, broke out with this demand:

"What I'd like to know is the explanation of this: 'A strange thing happened last night. At midnight I awoke. I heard confused sounds on the road without—carts creaking by, men shouting, women crying, and babies screaming.' Now what do you suppose it was all about?"

"I think I can explain that," answered Corinne, who seemed literally saturated with historical information since her recent researches. "In February of 1776, while Washington was still besieging the British at Boston, he sent General Lee down to New York to begin fortifying it. Lee and his forces arrived in the city on the very day that Sir Henry Clinton, the British commander, sailed into the harbor with a fleet of vessels. Well, the city just about went into a panic, for every one was certain there would be a big battle right off! And the histories say just what Alison did—that they all began to pack up and move out of the way as quick as they could, and all night the roads were filled with carts, and coaches, and crying women and children. Every one was scared to death! It proved to be a false alarm, for Clinton sailed right off again, and Lee only tended to the business of fortifying.

"But, you notice, Alison says that was when all the servants ran away but two, and Madame Mortier got sick and went to bed. She must have been sick a long time, for Washington didn't get there till April or May, and she was still in bed then. Perhaps she was quite an old lady and had had a severe shock. Maybe she was delicate anyway. And she evidently must have heard that her house was to be made use of, because she sent for Alison and warned her about it, and that she wasn't to have any communication with the rebels. Madame Mortier must have been a Tartar!"