"I can try," answered Lee. "I may succeed. Champe is not without ambition, and the object to be attained is a great one. I may safely promise him the promotion which he ardently desires."
"That will be but part of his reward," said Washington.
Lee sent for Champe. There entered in response a young man, large and muscular of build, saturnine of countenance; a grave, thoughtful, silent person, safe to trust with a secret, for his words were few, his sense of honor high. In all the army there was not his superior in courage and persistence in anything he should undertake.
It was no agreeable surprise to the worthy fellow to learn what he was desired to do. The plan was an admirable one, he admitted, it promised the best results. He did not care for peril, and was ready to venture on anything that would not involve his honor; but to desert from his corps, to win the scorn and detestation of his fellows, to seem to play the traitor to his country,—these were serious obstacles. He begged to be excused.
Lee combated his objections. Success promised honor to himself and to his corps, the gratitude of his country, the greatest service to his beloved commander-in-chief. Desertion, for such a purpose, carried with it no dishonor, and any stain upon his character would vanish when the truth became known. The conference was a long one; in the end Lee's arguments proved efficacious; Champe yielded, and promised to undertake the mission.
The necessary instructions had already been prepared by Washington himself. The chosen agent was to deliver letters to two persons in New York, who were in Washington's confidence, and who would lend him their assistance. He was to use his own judgment in procuring aid for the capture of Arnold, and to lay such plans as circumstances should suggest; and he was strictly enjoined not to kill the traitor under any circumstances.
All this settled, the question of the difficulties in the way arose. Between the American camp and the British outpost were many pickets and patrols. Parties of marauding patriots, like those that had seized André, might be in the way. Against these Lee could offer no aid. The desertion must seem a real one. All he could do would be to delay pursuit. For the rest, Champe must trust to his own skill and daring.
Eleven o'clock was the hour fixed. At that hour the worthy sergeant, taking his cloak, valise, and orderly-book, and with three guineas in his pocket, which Lee had given him, secretly mounted his horse and slipped quietly from the camp.
Lee immediately went to bed, and seemingly to sleep, though he had never been more wide awake. A half-hour passed. Then a heavy tread was heard outside the major's quarters, and a loud knock came upon his door. It was some time before he could be aroused.
"Who is there?" he asked, in sleepy tones.