We walked northward, neither speaking. Some three or four hundred yards from the house both of us stopped. Then I put my hand upon his arm again.
“Albert,” I said, “your fortune is far better than you deserve, or ever will deserve.”
“I don’t know about that,” he replied.
“I do,” I said. “Now, beyond those hills are the camp-fires of Burgoyne. You came thus far easily enough in your effort to get out, though Martyn, who came with you, failed, and you can go back the same way; but, before you start, take off Belt’s uniform. I won’t have you masquerading as an American officer.”
Without a word he took off the Continental uniform and stood in the citizen’s suit in which I had first seen him, Belt being a larger man than he. I rolled them up in a bundle and put the bundle under my arm.
“Shake hands,” he said. “You’ve done me a good turn.”
“Several of them,” I said, as I shook his hand, “which is several more than you have done for me.”
“I don’t bear you any grudge on that account,” he said with a faint laugh, as he strode off in the darkness toward Burgoyne’s army.
Which, I take it, was handsome of him.