“General Arnold, you of all Americans can end this cruel war with the mother country. So if you receive twenty thousand pounds in gold and a commission as General in the British Army, and a pension of two thousand pounds sterling per annum for life, what can you do to endow your countrymen with the blessings of peace?”
“Mr. Barclugh,” said Arnold, “I shall be inflicting enduring good upon humanity to stop the vain sacrifices of Americans in a forlorn cause. I would re-establish trade and friendly relations at home and abroad. The name of Arnold would be a synonym for the savior of this country. There would be no need, then, for a Washington. I would be the founder of great prosperity and happiness, and my natal day would be cherished by the,—well, by the nobility, anyway.
“However, I have thought of the best way for us to accomplish the object: you see, West Point is the citadel of American military hopes; if they were to lose that stronghold, New England could be cut off from the rest of the Colonies. The control of the upper Hudson falls with West Point. Communications would then be cut between New England and the Southern Colonies. The rebel forces would then be merely local bands, and the commanders partisan leaders. Then another British force could invade Virginia and each section be subdued in detail, but after the fall of West Point the Colonists would be glad to make terms of peace. Bloodshed would then be stopped.
“I can secure the command of West Point from the Commander-in-Chief, and when once in the coveted position, then Americans and American destiny will be at my feet.”
“Your plan is an inspired one, General Arnold, and here are two thousand pounds in Bills of Exchange on the Bank of Amsterdam, which you can get cashed at my office as a token of my faith in you. Now, with my passport in my pocket I shall start at once by way of West Point for New York, and carry the good news to General Clinton. Be sure and communicate with General Washington at once for your assignment to your new command,” were the parting words of Roderick Barclugh, as he mounted his horse at daylight to begin his journey through the Jersey Highlands, under the disguise and name of Pierre La Fitte.
CHAPTER XII
When Roderick Barclugh left the office of General Arnold, he mounted his horse and took the Germantown road. The hour was just before dawn, and much fatigue after the exciting negotiations with the traitor caused Barclugh to ride briskly, while serious meditations flitted through his brain:
“What will Washington think of Arnold’s request for assignment to West Point? I must pave the way for Arnold’s success. If I could only meet General Washington, being armed with the letter of Robert FitzMaurice, I would encourage the General to favor Arnold and explain away his unrest at Philadelphia. I could praise his deeds at Saratoga; how he longed for active service; his marriage and its financial obligations. The desire to please his wife entangled Arnold in unwarranted expenditures. To assign such a valuable leader to a post away from all allurements of society would preserve a valuable leader for active service after his wound had healed.”