"How could I know his errand?"
"That will not save you. Your debt is paid with interest, but at bitter cost. And what now to do?" He stood in the road, silent for a moment, deep in thought. "If he dies, it must all be told."
"I should tell it myself. I do not care."
"But I very much care. If he lives, he will say you set upon him, an unarmed man, and stole his despatches."
"Then leave them."
"That were as bad. I saw his treachery; but who will believe me? I must stay by him, and see what I can do."
Meanwhile the man lay speechless. René looked down at him and then at Schmidt. He, too, was thinking. In a moment he said: "This at least is clear. I am bound in honor to go on this hound's errand, and to see that these papers reach the Jean Bart."
"You are right," said Schmidt; "entirely right. But you must not be seen here. Find your way through the woods, and when it is dark—in an hour it will be night—ride through Bristol to Trenton, cross the river there at the ferry. No one will be out of doors in Trenton or Bristol on a night like this. Listen to the wind! Now go. When you are in New York, see Mr. Nicholas Gouverneur in Beaver Street. At need, tell him the whole story; but not if you can help it. Here is money, but not enough. He will provide what you require. Come back through the Jerseys, and cross at Camden. I shall secure help here, go to town, get a doctor, and return. I must talk to this man if he lives, else he will lie about you."
"You will excuse me to the Secretary?"
"Yes; yes, of course. Now go. These people at the inn must not see you."