“True,” said Frances, “but not in secret—openly, manfully, and bravely.”
“’Tis said he is a spy, and why ain’t one spy as bad as another?”
“’Tis untrue; no act of deception is worthy of my brother; nor of any would he be guilty, for so base a purpose as gain or promotion.”
“Well, I’m sure,” said Katy, a little appalled at the manner of the young lady, “if a body does the work, he should be paid for it. Harvey is by no means partic’lar about getting his lawful dues; and I dar’st to say, if the truth was forthcoming, King George owes him money this very minute.”
“Then you acknowledge his connection with the British army,” said Frances. “I confess there have been moments when I have thought differently.”
“Lord, Miss Fanny, Harvey is a man that no calculation can be made on. Though I lived in his house for a long concourse of years, I have never known whether he belonged above or below[[11]]. The time that Burg’yne was taken he came home, and there was great doings between him and the old gentleman, but for my life I couldn’t tell if ’twas joy or grief. Then, here, the other day, when the great British general—I’m sure I have been so flurried with losses and troubles, that I forget his name—”
“André,” said Frances.
“Yes, Ondree; when he was hanged, acrost the Tappan, the old gentleman was near hand to going crazy about it, and didn’t sleep for night nor day, till Harvey got back; and then his money was mostly golden guineas; but the Skinners took it all, and now he is a beggar, or, what’s the same thing, despisable for poverty and want.”
To this speech Frances made no reply, but continued her walk up the hill, deeply engaged in her own reflections. The allusion to André had recalled her thoughts to the situation of her own brother.
They soon reached the highest point in their toilsome progress to the summit, and Frances seated herself on a rock to rest and to admire. Immediately at her feet lay a deep dell, but little altered by cultivation, and dark with the gloom of a November sunset. Another hill rose opposite to the place where she sat, at no great distance, along whose rugged sides nothing was to be seen but shapeless rocks, and oaks whose stunted growth showed a meager soil.