The friends of American liberty that had remained banded together in the city for the purpose of supplying Washington with information had adopted this wise plan. Their orders were received from Number One, who was none other than that trusted servant of the King, Rivington, printer by special appointment to his Majesty. This worthy had come to the patriot cause early in the fall. But he was the last man to suspect.
The conspirators were seldom or never seen in one another's company, and some were not even supposed to know the others. The action and discoveries of each, however, were made understood by their system of cipher correspondence. As an instance of the relation, the captain and lieutenant (Rivington and Anderson) were supposed to be on terms of bitter enmity.
The latter was now making all haste to gain the lower part of town. A suspicion had seized him that perhaps everything was not right. When he came to the City Arms he hurried into the coffee-room.
A young officer with a deep bass voice was singing a song full of sighs and apostrophes to some distant fair one.
Mr. Anderson slid into an empty chair and joined in the noise and applause that followed the musical effort. He then turned to his neighbor.
"Ah, Captain Markham," he said, "have you seen our handsome young friend, Lieutenant Frothingham, to-night?"
"I was talking to him less than an hour ago," replied the Captain, who, strange to say, was not in his cups. "He was to return, I take it, from what he said."
Hardly had bespoken the words when the subject of them entered. William's face wore a preoccupied expression, and seeing one of the inn servants, he beckoned him to one side. Mr. Anderson caught the gesture, and noticed that the servant had followed the Lieutenant into the hallway.
If by chance he could have seen what occurred he would have been surprised, for, after a short conversation, the servant departed with three gold pieces clinking in his palm. He had then made his way to the stables and aroused one of the tall young grooms. From the stables he had walked to William's lodgings with a complete suit of the groom's clothing over his arm. It comprised a short jacket and leather gaiters like those worn by the young prisoner at the sugar-house, a good costume for facing the snow.
William entered the room a second time, and seeing Mr. Anderson, dragged a chair across and sat down close to him.