“That,” sternly, “is perhaps worse than the other thing of which I thought you guilty. Out of your own mouth you have proved yourself a designing——”
But here the young man stopped him.
“Wait,” said he; “uncle, wait! Before you say anything more, listen to me for a moment. It is true that I have deceived you.”
“Hah!”
“But not for the mean reason that you suspect.”
“What other reason could you have?”
“Give me a moment and I will try to make all plain to you. It had come to my ears that a plot was on foot—the same that eventually resulted in the hanging of Hickey, one of General Washington’s guard. When you made your proposal it instantly occurred to me that if I seemed to fall in with your views, I might be able to learn what was going forward.”
“Ah!”
“A renegade, you know, is always the most eager to proceed against his former friends; and I hoped that this fact would gain me credit among my country’s foes. Believe me, uncle, it hurt me to deceive you. I longed to tell you plainly that I was only acting a part. But I dared not.
“And then, there was Peggy!” There was a moan in the young man’s voice; and George Prentiss recalling his sullen face and heavy, brooding brows, was surprised. “You know, uncle, what we always thought of each other. You know that we were inseparable from childhood. And you also know what an ardent friend to colonial liberty she is.”