“It does not set well upon a man of your years and station, Livingstone, to repeat common gossip. What has been said to the discredit of General Washington has been said behind his back. Not one of his detractors has had the courage to speak openly and specifically—that is, not one whom he would think it worth while to controvert. The whole matter is a rascally one, sir, and every worthy person should frown upon it.”
“I meant to give you no offense,” said Master Livingstone.
“And you have not. What I say is said as a citizen, my friend; and I have no personal feeling in the matter whatever.”
However, when the speaker sat down once more, Ben Cooper noted that his manner was not at all as even as it had been formerly. Apparently he was no lukewarm friend of the commander-in-chief of the American forces, and felt the insinuations leveled against that gentleman much more keenly than he cared to admit.
Livingstone spoke but little after this; his friend’s reception of his views had so abashed him that he seemed to prefer to keep silent. But with Hawkins it was different. With smooth insinuation he entered into the matter under discussion; he stated no views, but seemed somewhat eager as to the views of others. Ben listened with attention; now and then he noted the man’s eye lift in his direction, but as the glances seemed merely passing ones he gave them no heed. After a time the Porcupine spoke.
“Master Hawkins seems very inquisitive,” remarked he, shrewdly. “Mark you, how he asks questions.”
“And, also, mark you, whom the questions hinge upon,” said Ben, with meaning.
Intently the dwarf listened, all the time seeming much interested in the remnants of the beefsteak pie. At last he looked up at Ben, his brows lifted and his mouth drawn to one side, knowingly.
“He wants to know about the people who are speaking ill of General Washington—especially about those officers who think themselves ill-treated.” There was a silence, and as Ben said nothing, the dwarf asked: “I wonder why?”
“I, too, wonder why,” said Ben, and there was that same speculative look in his face which the Porcupine had noted more than once since their first sight of Tobias Hawkins on the outskirts of the throng which had watched the captive Hessians.