The conversation was about the report of the committee on army affairs, and Mr. Livingston stopped General Schuyler in front of Carpenter’s Hall.
“General Schuyler, have you done anything on your committee about Arnold’s assignment?” asked Mr. Livingston. “I have written to the Commander-in-Chief and asked him to assign Arnold to West Point. His wounded knee will not allow him to ride a horse and that fact unfits him for active service in the field.”
“Yes, you are right, Mr. Livingston,” replied General Schuyler, “Arnold is a valuable man. The soldiers admire him. We will assign him to post duty and recommend giving him West Point, if he declines to take the field. The Commander-in-Chief wishes him to be active in the coming campaign, but if Arnold insists upon garrison duty, he may get whatever he wishes.”
This settled the matter in the mind of Segwuna, for she knew that Arnold desired West Point. Now Segwuna must determine what she ought to do to keep her eyes on Arnold and Barclugh at the same time. She learned from the fish-vender, Sven Svenson, another point that put her on her guard.
Sven was ambling along Market Street with his fish cart, when Segwuna stopped him and said:
“Good morning, Sven, what is the news in town?”
“Val, I hap gude news, Miss Segwuna; Ganral Arnold has pade me up tan pound starling an’ sax pance,” answered Sven as he showed the guineas and smiled blandly at Segwuna.
“He vas going to da army to vark. I gass he vaants Vast Point. My saster who varks for Mistrees Arnold, she tald mee so mach.”
“Do you think that he will get it, Sven?” asked Segwuna.
“Ah! He gats vat he vants,” retorted Sven, smiling more than ever.