"I have a right to be loyal to the king, above the authority of a husband."
"If your loyalty extends to plotting against your husband's cause, you have not the right under my roof—or under Philip Winwood's part of it. I will know what this scheme is, that you have been engaged in."
"Not from me!" said Margaret, with a resolution that gave a new, unfamiliar aspect to so charmingly feminine a creature.
"Oh, let her alone, father," put in Ned, ludicrously ready for the faintest opportunity either to put his father under obligation or to bring down Margaret. "I'll be frank with you. I've no reason to hide what's past and gone. She and Captain Falconer had a plan to make Washington a prisoner, by a night expedition from New York, and some help in our camp—"
"Which you were to give, I see, you treacherous scoundrel!" said his father, with contempt.
"Oh, now, no hard names, sir. You see, several of us—some good patriots, too, with the country's best interests at heart—couldn't swallow this French alliance; we saw that if we ever did win by it, we should only be exchanging tyrants of our own blood for tyrants of frog-eaters. We began to think England would take us back on good terms if the war could be ended; and we considered the state of the country, the interests of trade—indeed, 'twas chiefly the thought of your business, the hope of seeing it what it once was, that drove me into the thing."
"You wretched hypocrite!" interposed Mr. Faringfield.
"Oh, well; misunderstand me, as usual. Call me names, if you like. I'm only telling the truth, and what you wished to know—what she wouldn't tell you. I'm not as bad as some; I can up and confess, when all's over. Well, as I was about to say, we had everything ready, and the night was set; and then, all of a sudden, Phil Winwood swoops down on me; treats me in a most unbrotherly fashion, I must say" (Ned cast an oblique look at his embarrassed shoulder); "and alarmed the camp. And when the British party rode up, instead of catching Washington they caught hell. And I leave it to you, sir, whether your daughter there, after playing the traitor to her husband's cause, for the sake of her lover; didn't turn around and play the traitor to her own game, for the benefit of her husband, and the ruin of her brother. Such damnableness!"
"'For the sake of her lover,'" Mr. Faringfield repeated. "What do you mean by that, sir?" The phrase, indeed, had given us all a disagreeable start.
"What I say, sir. How could he be otherwise? I guessed it before; and I became sure of it this evening, from the way he spoke of her at General Knyphausen's quarters."