“Certainly, certainly, General Arnold, you must get away as soon and as decently as possible,” replied Barclugh, going to the iron safe on the other side of the office to get the money.
When General Arnold had received the money and arose to depart, he smiled significantly to Barclugh, as he remarked:
“I am feeling like my old self once more. My fighting blood is up. No use talking, the sinews of war put the nerve in a man.
“I am sorry to go at once, Mr. Barclugh, but my duties are pressing, and I must close up my affairs here at the earliest possible moment. Good day, Mr. Barclugh. I feel very grateful for your assistance,” concluded Arnold as he left Barclugh’s office.
Roderick Barclugh called his clerk into his private office, as soon as General Arnold departed, to give his orders:
“Mr. Hopewell, you may see Messrs. Milling & FitzMaurice and close all of my privateering and other accounts with them except the Bank of North America matter. Tell them that my illness has necessitated my giving up everything except the banking business, which shall now receive my exclusive attention.”
“Very well, Mr. Barclugh,” answered the faithful clerk, as he proceeded to carry out these injunctions.
Roderick Barclugh now had accomplished the purposes for which his dealings with Milling & FitzMaurice had been started. He had used this channel to ensnare Arnold and to procure an introduction to the leaders of society in Philadelphia, Tory and Whig, alike.
But there was only one question, if he were to withdraw his whole account from Milling & FitzMaurice, they might be embarrassed. Having planned to put this amount into the bank, he could let it lie in their hands, as a loan, until the bank was established.
General Clinton must now be advised of the turn of affairs, so Barclugh busied himself at the task of writing a complete history of the transactions since the beginning of his illness and despatched the letters by the Little Egg Harbor inlet route.