“Well?” said I, when I had lounged most leisurely up to my sour-faced tryst-keeper, and there was a whole world of impatience in the single word.
“You’re a master hand at plotting,” he commented. “Thing worked” (he said “wukked”) “like a charm. Hull clamjamfrey of Simcoe’s men trotted out on the north road ’bout half an hour ago. Now what?”
“For you, Captain Sprigg, a small thing first, and a bigger one afterward. Have a dinghy at the foot of Amsterdam lane by eight o’clock to-night, and make sure of just one thing—that it waits until its passengers come, if that shall not be until midnight. With the ladies on board, the game is yours, to play out as you can.”
“Then I won’t have to go back and see Miss Leigh?”
“No; I’ll see her and bring her and my—the other lady, down to the boat to-night.”
“No need for you to go. I guess I c’n see to all that,” he said slyly. Then he added: “Might get you into trouble—with that red coat o’ yours, Captain Page.”
I did not mean to delegate this last service I might ever render Beatrix to him or to any one. But now, upon second thought, his jesting after-word sank in: it might be an added risk—not for me, as he had hinted, but for the women. So I reluctantly changed the order and told him to go to the Vandeventer house to serve as an escort for the ladies, when all was ready.
He promised; and when I had seen him on his way down to the waterside, I once more returned to Arnold’s house. For the time had now come when boldness must take the place of caution. I dare not run the risk of arousing the traitor’s suspicions by going clandestinely to the house where Margaret Shippen was; and on the other hand I could not dodge the necessity for telling Beatrix in person that her plea had been received and acted on, and that Sprigg would come for her and Cousin Ju at the fortunate moment.
Arnold bade me come in, when I had climbed the stair and tapped on his door, and, as always, I found him writing like a scrivener.
“A cousin of mine is in town, and I am told she is leaving before long, General,” I began. “Have I your permission to go and bid her good-by?”