"I'm ruined," he said, as he sat down beside his companions. "I feel that I've nothing left to live for. Not that I regret what I did last night. Don't think it. But I shall be branded as a deserter—and worse. I can never go back to Major Langdon, and if I am caught I will be shot or hanged as a traitor. I wish I had never been sent on this wretched business."
"Your mission was not legitimate war," replied Nathan. "Explanations will surely right you. But why worry about the matter at all? You are safe, and can share our fortunes. And after the fiendish acts you saw done at Wyoming by a British force—"
"Stop!" Godfrey said, sadly. "I am still true to my cause, Nathan—as much as you are to yours. Let us not discuss that matter. We can at least be friends while we are together."
"How could we be otherwise, after your noble deed?" replied Nathan.
"Then you have no ill-feeling?" asked Godfrey. "I was afraid you blamed me for that night in Philadelphia. It was Major Langdon who found the note, and he made me go along. I have always wished I could explain."
"Well, it's all right now," said Nathan. "And it was all right then," he added to himself, remembering his reckless flight through the town.
"There is something else I want to speak about," continued Godfrey. "Have you got those—those papers safe?"
"Yes, I have them," Nathan exclaimed, eagerly. "Can you explain the mystery about them?"
Godfrey shook his head. "It is a mystery," he replied, "and a deep one. I only know this. The day after the battle of Monmouth, while our army was at Middletown, Major Langdon sent Simon Glass and a squad of dragoons to Wyoming to get those papers. I don't know why I was sent along, and I never knew until last night that the papers were the property of your father. And Glass—who is the worst ruffian I ever knew—has tried his best to get all of your party killed ever since he learned you were bound for the same place. That's why he was so savage with me last night, when I appealed to Colonel Butler to spare your lives."
"I've had an idea of what was going on for some time past," said Barnabas. "I seen a mighty ugly look in Major Langdon's eyes when he stood over Captain Stanbury on the battle-field. That's when he overheard about the papers, but what in the name of creation did he want with them? Could your father have known him before, lad—over in England?"