"Under Washington?"
She knew better, but she made no attempt to conceal her feigned simplicity.
He looked at her without comment.
Whether he shrunk from unfolding to her the sickening details of his despicable plan, or whether he judged it sufficient for her to know only the foul beginnings of his treason without being initiated into its wretched consummation; whether it was due to any of these reasons or simply to plain indifference or perhaps to both, he became unusually silent on this subject from this moment onward. It was enough for her to realize that he had been shabbily treated by the Congress and by the people, that he had long considered the American cause hopeless and had abandoned his interest in it on account of the recent alliance with the government of France. In her eyes he thought it would be heroic for him to resign his command, and even to defect to the side of the enemy on these grounds,—on the strength of steadfastly adhering to his ancient principles. He knew well that she had counseled such a step and was enthusiastic in urging its completion, nevertheless he sensed that the enormity and the depravity of his base design was too revolting, too shocking, for even her ears. He would not even acquaint her with Anderson's letter nor with the purpose he had of concurring with the proposition it contained.
"Did you receive a letter from Anderson?" she asked suddenly.
"Yes. He wrote to inform me that he had escaped in safety and is now in New York."
"No more?"
"No. He did comment on the frustration of the plot, and expressed a desire to learn the identity of the disturber."
"You will tell him?"