“I rather guess,” continued the peddler, coolly, “now the storm is over, the Skinners may be moving; you had better shorten your visit, Captain Wharton.”
“Oh!” cried the British officer, “a few guineas will buy off those rascals at any time, should I meet them. No, no, Mr. Birch, here I stay until morning.”
“Money could not liberate Major André,” said the peddler, dryly.
Both the sisters now turned to the captain in alarm, and the elder observed,—
“You had better take the advice of Harvey; rest assured, his opinion in such matters ought not to be disregarded.”
“Yes,” added the younger, “if, as I suspect, Mr. Birch assisted you to come here, your safety, our happiness, dear Henry, requires you to listen to him now.”
“I brought myself out, and can take myself in,” said the captain positively. “Our bargain went no further than to procure my disguise, and to let me know when the coast was clear; and in the latter particular, you were mistaken, Mr. Birch.”
“I was,” said the peddler, with some interest, “and the greater is the reason why you should get back to-night; the pass I gave you will serve but once.”
“Cannot you forge another?”
The pale cheek of the trader showed an unusual color, but he continued silent, with his eyes fixed on the ground, until the young man added, with great positiveness, “Here I stay this night, come what will.”