“What’s become of Levi?” I asked. Not that I cared one way or the other. She had made use of me, good use of me—with the rest!
“Gone!” he said curtly. “And wise to go! We shall take their horses. That’ll be some punishment. I would have strung him up with good will, but there are times when we need a dirty tool.”
“Though you prefer a clean one,” I said bitterly. And I thought of myself.
He laughed. “Madam Con will in future,” he said. “She’s had a lesson. But, lord, how happy that girl is! Her father is safe, and she has saved him!”
“Well, he’s no use as a spy any more!” I said. I was feeling mad, as the saying is.
“That’s true,” he replied, not losing his good humor for a moment. “As an American André—by your leave, Major—he’s blown upon. The risk always made the girl miserable, and many’s the night, I fancy, that she has not slept for thinking of him. Now that is at an end, and she’s doubly happy. But there,” breaking off, “let us go into the open air. In a few minutes I must be moving. My men are on the other bank, and when the fog lifts we are too near your post at the Ferry and too far from our own supports to be comfortable. I’ve a boat behind the mill and I can cross in five minutes, but I shall not be happy until we are on the other side of the Black River. I would not have come so far for any one but that girl.”
“Nor I,” I said, forgetting myself for a moment.
Fortunately he had his back to me and perhaps he did not hear. A moment later we were outside. “I am told that Rawdon has ordered you to be put under arrest,” he said.
“You heard that?”
“Oh, we hear everything. The blind man’s moves are easy to follow. For the matter of that Con saw your sword on my lord’s table. He was polite as pie to her,” he continued, with a chuckle. “He was another of them! He said a good deal about you; said that you’d thrown your commission in his face, and he didn’t wonder—I suppose that was a compliment to her—but that discipline must be maintained, and he didn’t know but that he’d have to send you home.”