“I do not trust those ladies, Shelby.”
“Well, as for that,” I replied, “I told you that Madame Van Auken was a hot Tory, of which fact she seeks to make no concealment. But I don’t see what harm they could do us, however much they might wish it.”
“Maybe,” he said; then with a sudden change:
“Why did you say this morning that you believed in ghosts, when last night you said you didn’t?”
I fixed upon him the sharp stare of one amazed at such a question.
“Belt,” said I, “I am a believer in ghosts. I am also a devout believer in the report that the moon is made of moldy green cheese.”
He sniffed a bit, and let me alone on that point, but he returned to the attack on the ladies. I do not know what idea had found lodgment in his head; in truth it may have been due to biliousness, but he suspected them most strongly of what he called treasonable correspondence with the enemy. I asked him what course he intended to take in the matter, and he returned a vague answer; but I soon received intimation of his purpose, for in an hour, leaving me in charge for the time, he returned to the army. He made a quick trip, and when he came back he told me he had reported the case at headquarters. The general, not knowing what else to do with the ladies, had directed that they be sent to Burgoyne’s army, where, he understood, they had relatives.
“He said to me,” said Belt, “that at this time it would be just as well for the British to take care of their own.”
Reflecting a little, I decided that the matter had fallen out very well. If they were in Burgoyne’s camp it would release us all from some troubles and doubts.