Sergeant Frothingham was sick of the continuous drill, and was glad enough to be placed one day in charge of the sentries at the Kenedy House, Washington's headquarters, on the lower end of Broadway. This duty led to a decided break in the monotonous routine.
As he had posted the guards for the first time, a bugle sounded, and an aide-de-camp ran up the stone steps from the street. George, standing by the door, saluted, and the aide hurried inside the house.
The news he bore was of importance, for soon some of the best-equipped regiments marched out into Battery Green; they formed two lines that extended from the boat-landing to the doorsteps of the headquarters.
Before long Washington himself, accompanied by his staff, came out of the hallway; they stood so close that George could hear every word that passed.
"Present arms!" came the order down the two long lines that stretched to the sea-wall.
Up the alley thus formed came a group of officers, and in their midst walked one in a red coat.
"The emissary from Lord Howe down the bay," said some one in a low voice.
The officer in red came up the steps and uncovered. "I am Colonel Patterson, of Lord Howe's staff, and bear communication to you, sir, I believe," he said, addressing Washington.
The General took the big envelope, and looked at it carefully.
"This is addressed to George Washington, Esq., etcætera, etcætera," he said. "I cannot receive a letter from the King's commissioner, sir, addressed to me as a private person when it relates to my public station." All this was spoken in a firm, even tone, without a trace of anger.