At this I laughed again, and said, most impertinently: “Having run his sword through the body of the said James Askew a few minutes ago, Lieutenant Castner makes his apologies to the court, and—”
“Silence, sir!” thundered Phillips, frowning me down; and I held my peace while Castner explained, rather shamefacedly, how the spy had come to his end.
“Then we will take your testimony, Mr. Castner,” said Simcoe; whereupon the lieutenant told in a straightforward way how the spy Askew had first informed him of my purpose; how, when the story, second-handed on to Sir Henry Clinton, had resulted only in an order for my arrest and detention, which order had been suspended, he, Castner, had gone with Askew to meet an officer of Major Henry Lee’s Legion—one who knew the facts from the rebel side, and who, for the sake of common honor, would substantiate Askew’s story.
Much more the lieutenant said, and doubtless the court listened to him. But I did not. My senses had gone blank to all outward happenings at that mention of an officer of my own fellowship who had made an appointment with Castner and the spy to insure my undoing. Admitting that Mr. Hamilton’s secret had leaked out, what man in all the patriot army hated me cordially enough to do this despicable thing? There was but one answer to that query: I had come between Howard Seytoun and the woman of his desire. For no lighter cause would any man turn his back upon his country, his honor as a soldier, his loyalty to the brotherhood of the army.
When I listened again, Major Simcoe was saying: “Your word is sufficient, of course, Mr. Castner. But for the sake of the formalities, a statement from this officer you speak of would sit well on the records of this court.”
“I anticipated that,” said Castner promptly. “Under an assurance of safe-conduct back to his own lines, the officer has accompanied me to New York.” Then, to one of his men: “Warnock, bring the Continental captain in.”
The man went out, and when next the door was opened, I saw what I was fully expecting to see. Seytoun came in, blinking at the lights, his bloated face flushing purple, and his shifty eyes looking anywhere save in my direction.
“Will you be good enough to answer a few questions, Captain Seytoun?” said Simcoe, taking a most gentlemanly tone with this double-dyed renegade and villain. “You have offered Lieutenant Castner a corroboration of the charge against Captain Richard Page; namely, the fact set forth by the man James Askew: that Captain Page came to New York as a spy and a kidnapper. Is this true?”
“It is,” muttered my accuser in a low tone.
“Upon what grounds do you assert this, Captain Seytoun?” cut in one of Knyphausen’s aides.