However, her beauty of face, her form and her carriage not only enthralled him, but he dwelt upon the character that he found in the kindly twinkle of her deep hazel eyes; her understanding of the great principles of human liberty; her patriotism; her devotion to the soldiery of her native land. All were grand conceptions to dwell upon.
In her there was no first consideration of self, like the frivolous woman of fashion. She knew that a mission in life was the proper destiny for one to follow; and in the trying needs of her country she knew that clothes and food for the Continentals needed her best and undivided effort.
She knew that every dozen of eggs, every fowl, every blanket, every pair of woolen socks, every yard of homespun, spoke volumes to the patient, ill-fed, and ill-clothed Continental who was serving for the principles of the Declaration,—serving with no pay and expecting none. She was happy in the pursuit of her humble mission; she had no grievance with which to worry others. Her mission was to render some one happy with her deeds; consequently her life was full of elements that daily exemplified the sweetness of her existence to others.
The natural tendency of a commonplace intellect would be to sternly rebuke others who expressed opinions opposed to his own ambitions; but the philosophy of human nature carried Barclugh into deeper considerations. He had his particular objects to accomplish and had his plans matured to effect them; therefore, he kept quiet about his own principles and tried to learn every detail about the opinions of the opposition. Thus he would be prepared to use the weak points of his adversary to his own advantage.
He thought he knew that Colonial gentlemen were much like their Anglo-Saxon ancestry, honest, fearless and loyal to their convictions; but if, after a protracted struggle, they found their cause defeated and their case hopeless, they would submit. Their love of peace and tranquillity would overcome their feelings about independence. They would be satisfied with the forms of liberty without the substance. He reasoned that history repeats itself among his countrymen. When the Normans conquered the Anglo-Saxon, his submission to the regime of William the Conqueror was complete. He reasoned that a decisive stroke of the English arms would reconcile the Colonists to the helplessness of their cause.
These convictions led him more seriously than ever to conclude that the dominant party at the end of the war would have the allegiance of the whole country. Therefore Roderick Barclugh was more resolute than ever to seize West Point by means of gold and afterwards ally himself and his fortunes to the virtues and zeal of Mollie Greydon.
He travelled on the main turnpike that led northward from Philadelphia, along the Delaware, until he reached Bristol, which commands a beautiful view of the river. He stopped at an inn kept by a Mr. Benezet, and announced himself thus:
“My name is Pierre La Fitte. I am a merchant from Philadelphia, and travelling to Boston. Have no news, am tired and hungry. Have you provender for my horse and dinner for me?”
The landlord looked up in astonishment at the brusque preclusion of prying questions as to the business, destination and knowledge of a stranger. Even the servants tiptoed when they came into the presence of their august guest.
However, the dinner and lodging were most excellent, and the breakfast was more than could be expected at a country inn, but when Barclugh paid his bill in the morning the innkeeper had charged double prices for his guest’s exclusiveness. As Barclugh got what he desired,—no questions,—he did not mind the payment, but before he had been many more days on this journey he learned that Colonial hospitality was not always dealt out on a money basis, and he was exceedingly glad to change his mannerisms.