“Well, what is to become of her? I am dying by inches from anxiety. I would be willing to give up all for her safety,” wailed the traitor.
“Cheer up, don’t whine about losses from your unfulfilled contract,” continued Barclugh.
“What! do I not even get my money?” exclaimed Arnold.
“Not a farthing more, if I can help it,” retorted the moneyed man.
“How do you make that out?” asked the General.
“Well, it’s business.”
“What’s business to do with an affair of honor?”
“An affair of honor?” queried Barclugh. “You left your honor behind when you accepted money and agreed to perform your treachery and receive the balance when the job was successfully done.”
“But you see, Barclugh, I have the agreement of Major Andre to cover just such an emergency as this,” exclaimed Arnold as he struck with exultation his breast pocket in which he had his writing signed by Andre.
“Well, that may or may not be so, Mr. Arnold. You will now have to settle your bargain made with Major Andre, with General Clinton. Major Andre is dead. I represent the men of substance and I am not at liberty to recklessly squander their money in a way that is not warranted,” contended the envoy of the Bank Governor.