"Her will-power alone," replied Peggy. "She can surmount obstacles; she has never lost an opportunity."
They lapsed into silence, occupying themselves with the delicious repast. Sometimes they talked of this, that and the other quite freely and easily—of the society news, of the presence of Miss Franks at the wedding, of the splendor of it all. Indeed, there was nothing to indicate more than a company of old-time friends.
"I am ready to take my charges along with me," announced Anderson at length.
"Hush! Not so loud," cautioned Arnold. "Later,—in the park, we shall treat of that."
Then the servants came again and removed the dishes. After another goblet of Madeira they left the table, going immediately out of doors, for it was now dusk.
"I can do no more with the recruiting. I have in round numbers, an hundred," Anderson began when they had been seated in the cypress walk. The moon was not yet half way to the zenith and lay a dull copper color in the eastern sky, partially eclipsed by the chimney of the great house. A solemn silence, terrifying and rife with mysterious sensations, seemed to pervade the place. It was a setting well fitted to shroud deep and dark designs. No one would dare to venture near.
"You have done well. Egad! I know of none who could have done better."
"Yet it was no easy task, I assure you. They thrill with the very spirit of rebellion. Cadwalader will never forgive me, and will haunt me when he dies."
"You got him?" Arnold asked.
"I did. But I had to take proceedings against him which portended the stocks. I promised him a wheelbarrow to be pushed every day in the resolution of his debt. Only when I had the jailer at hand did he reconsider. The debt has been paid, and he has already signed."