“‘Pardon me,’ said I, ‘this is my affair, and not Mr. Wynne’s. I have had the honour of late to hear Mr. Delaney relate what passed in the jail.’
“‘Have you, indeed? An old story,’ said Arthur Wynne.
“‘None the less a nasty one. I had also the pleasure to tell Miss Peniston that you suggested to the traitor Arnold to use my friend’s known loyalty as a safe means of getting to Sir Henry Clinton a letter which was presumably a despatch as to exchange of prisoners, but was really intended to convey to Sir Henry the news that the scoundrel Arnold was willing to sell his soul and betray his country.’
“‘Who told you this nonsense?’ said the captain, coming toward us.
“‘Major Andre,’ said I. ‘You may have my friend’s word for that.’
“‘It is a lie!’ he cried.
“‘Men about to die do not lie, Mr. Wynne. It is true.’
“The man’s face changed, and he got that slack look about the jaw I have heard Hugh describe. To my astonishment he did not further insist on his denial, but said coldly, ‘And what then?’
“‘Nothing,’ said I. ‘Having told what I knew to a woman, I had no mind to have you say I had slandered you behind your back. That is all.’
“‘Is it, indeed? And which of you will give me the honour of your company to-morrow?’