"At last I see my way to a position. They said I was a ne'er-do-well. We shall see!"
The speaker, a fine, handsome-looking man, paced the floor of a small room in Cambridge.
It was one week after the battle of Lexington.
He was restless; every muscle in his body seemed to quiver with excitement.
Anyone looking at him would prefer him as a friend rather than an enemy, for there was that in his face which betokened strong passion.
He was ambitious. For the gratification of that ambition he would sacrifice anything, even honor.
He had been brought up as a merchant, and had splendid opportunities in his native Colony of Connecticut for success, but he was restless, and wanted a fame greater than he could obtain as a merchant.
He had suggested the formation of a company of militia, to be called the "Governor's Guards," and had also hinted that they should rival the royal guards of England in appearance and attire.
The governor was pleased with the suggestion, for he loved display, and commissioned Benedict Arnold to put into effect his suggestion, and to take the rank of captain.
Arnold cared less for the career of a merchant than ever.
He designed a uniform which should outshine even the famous Life Guards of London in splendor.
Buckling on a sword, he would pose before a mirror and salute his own reflected image in the glass.
Gathering around him a number of well-connected young men, men of good figure and tall in stature, he proceeded to impress upon them his own importance, and made them believe that all the honor of their position depended upon his favor.
Arnold was a favorite, and so the young men of New Haven accepted his authority and became the willing followers of Capt. Arnold.
The governor threw a wet blanket on his scheme when he told him that if the guards wanted uniforms they must purchase them, for the funds of the colony could not be used for such a purpose.
Arnold had to moderate his gorgeousness and accept a much plainer uniform for his guards.
The company was formed, and drill commenced. The young captain showed that he knew more about the manual of arms than he did of mercantile practices.
The militia grumbled at the harshness of the discipline, but a few words from their captain won them over.
When the war commenced Arnold was a strong royalist, or tory.
He wanted the guards to be recognized by England as a part of the royal forces. In fancy he saw himself driving the "rebels" into the sound and being sent for to London to receive the thanks of the king in person; he imagined himself promoted to the rank of general, and perhaps made life governor of one of the colonies.
But the airy castles he built fell to the ground when he was bluntly told that the king could do without his "guards," and that when there was need of soldiers the king could provide them.
From that moment Arnold resolved on throwing in his lot with the very men he had asked permission to shoot down. He became a "rebel."
When the news of the battle of Lexington reached New Haven he clapped his hands and became more excited than he had ever known himself to be.
He called his guards together, and in an impassioned speech bade them be ready to march against the English, and win freedom for their native land and honor and renown for themselves.
He denounced the king.
He ridiculed the parliament.
The tories were treated to such an outburst of eloquent denunciation that, had any of them heard him, they would have trembled.
"Guards! soldiers of the nation! I salute you. To you is intrusted a banner which must ever be kept in the front of the battle. Some of us may fall, but, if we do, our names shall be writ on our country's history in imperishable letters. To those who survive no honor will be begrudged, no reward will be too ample for a proud country to bestow.
"We shall meet the foe. We shall cross swords with the hirelings of a tyrant. Our arms will be triumphant, for justice is with us, and God will bless our swords. To-morrow we march to Massachusetts, to join our brothers there, and all the world shall ring with the doings of the Governor's Guards of Connecticut."
He fired his men with enthusiasm, and they were ready to follow him to death, if need be.
Arrived at Cambridge, he was received warmly, but so was John Stark and his New Hampshire militia, and equally well did he find the men of Massachusetts greet Nathaniel Greene and his militia from Rhode Island.
Arnold had expected a greater enthusiasm. In his heart he had fancied himself appointed general of the army of the Provincials, and therefore he was hurt when he learned that he was only one among many.
"The king insulted me," he said, as he paced the floor, "the tories did not care for me, and now these Provincials treat me as if I were one of them, instead of being—— Well, what is it, Eli?"
Sergt. Eli Forest, of the Governor's Guards, entered the room.
"Captain, I have just heard that one Ethan Allen has undertaken to capture Ticonderoga, for which our governor has offered a thousand dollars for expenses."
"Well?"
"Would it not be well for us to join with Col. Allen——"
"Eh?"
"Do not think me rash, captain, but you have given me permission to speak as I think."
"So I have, Eli, and for the sake of our old college days and the good times we shared, you can always speak your mind to me."
"Then, captain, I thought that this man, Allen, knew nothing of fighting save a sheriff's posse, and you could become the general and lead the men to Ticonderoga and then to Crown Point, and who knows, you might drive the English back into Canada, and, joining with the French, compel England to sue for peace, and you could name your own terms."
"Talk, talk, talk! How easy it is to talk, Eli, but how different is action. Go; when I have thought over your suggestion I will let you know my decision."
Eli Forest had the most implicit confidence in Benedict Arnold. As boys they had gone to the same school, and when they left school they entered college and graduated at the same time. During all those years Eli had always looked upon Arnold as a superior being. When the men were enrolled as guards Eli felt that the height of his ambition was reached, for, with Arnold as captain, the guards would rival any military body in the country.
Arnold was as fond of his friend as he could be of anyone; he gave him greater freedom of speech, and listened to him when others would have been treated very cavalierly.
When Benedict Arnold was alone he showed by every line on his face how pleased he was with the suggestion made by his old-time friend.
"It is the opportunity of my life. What does Ethan Allen know about war? He is a country farmer, and can fight a sheriff's posse, and perhaps a few soldiers in his mountains; but to take Ticonderoga? Bah! He will fail unless I help him, and then the glory shall be mine."
Arnold walked quickly up and down the floor, his hands clinched, his face lighted up with ambitious fire.
"Yes, the glory shall be mine," he continued, "and once let me have Ticonderoga and Crown Point, and then—— Ah! what then?"
He crossed to the window and looked out.
John Stark was marching past at the head of his sturdy New Hampshire boys, and the people cheered.
"If I hold Lake Champlain and the Green Mountains I can dictate my own terms. I shall hold the key to the situation. Canada can be mine, and Massachusetts will be glad to make terms with me. If I fail to make good terms with the colonies I can go to England and say: 'You will be driven out of America unless I say stay, and I shall not say that unless you give me——' Well, what now?"
The orderly entered and told Arnold that he was wanted at the headquarters of the Provincial army at once.
"Tell the council that I—will not—— I mean I will not delay."
Once more alone, he showed his restlessness.
"They order me—me!—Capt. Benedict Arnold! Well, let me join Allen and his Green Mountain Boys, and I shall do the ordering, or my star has dimmed its luster."
One hour later he called together his guards and told them that they were to be ready to march at a moment's notice.
"A soldier's first lesson is that of obedience," he said to them, "and I am going to try you in many ways. In the expedition we are about to undertake I shall only be of the same rank as yourselves. Obey whoever may be your commander, but be ready to accept me as your leader at any time."
Eli, on behalf of the guards, promised that whatever Arnold might order it would be their pleasure to obey.
"Sergt. Eli Forest, stand forward."
Eli obeyed and saluted.
"Lieut. Percival has obtained leave of absence. He will join the army in Cambridge when that leave expires. The grade of lieutenant is an important one, and I appoint you, Eli Forest, first lieutenant of the Governor's Guards."
Eli thanked his chief for the new honor, and Arnold had bound him still closer to him.
"On the choice of friendsOur good or evil name depends."
"Colonel, a number of armed men are marching this way, and I like not their appearance," said the young Eben Pike, hurriedly and with gasping breath, as he entered the presence of Ethan Allen.
"They most likely are friends, Eben."
"They may be, colonel, but I thought you ought to know."
"You acted wisely, as you usually do. Did you meet Mistress Baker?"
"Yes, colonel, and a fair young maiden she is. I wish I had a sister like her."
Allen laughed and looked at the boy, whose face was a brighter color than usual.
"You will learn to like some one else's sister better than your own, if you had one."
Eben blushed still more and was about to leave when the colonel made him send Baker at once.
Remember Baker had a sister, pretty and winsome. She had been visiting for a year in New Haven, and decided to return to her brother's home at the very time he was on the march with Allen.
Baker had an aunt living near Lake Champlain, and he decided to place Martha with her. Good friends escorted Martha to a place a few miles from where the Mountain Boys were to camp prior to their attack on Fort Ticonderoga, and Eben was dispatched to escort the young maiden to her brother. Eben had fulfilled the task and wished the distance had been several times as far; but a few miles from the camp he had seen the regiment of guards on the march, and at once thought it his duty to report.
Remember Baker entered the presence of Ethan Allen and listened to the story told by Eben.
"Martha saw them," said Baker, "and she declared that their leader was a man who was noted for being a great loyalist in New Haven."
"So! Let all the men be ready in case of emergency, and do you see that they are well prepared for attack!"
"I shall see to it."
"Does Mistress Martha feel tired after her long journey?"
"No; she very naively says that she was tired until she was met by Eben, and from that time her weariness ceased."
"Natural, very. Eben felt that way also, and his face was as red as a turkey gobbler's comb when he entered here."
In less than an hour Lieut. Eli Forest approached the camp, bearing a white flag.
He asked to be admitted to the presence of Ethan Allen.
"Col. Allen, this gentleman craves an interview."
"Capt. Baker, I shall be pleased to confer with him."
Eli was rather surprised at the courtesy shown by Ethan and Baker to each other. He had been led to believe the Mountain Boys to be a lot of uneducated, boorish farmers.
He, a college graduate, knew that he was in the presence of his equals.
"I am commissioned by my superior, Col. Arnold, to ask you to favor him with an audience."
"Might I ask who I am speaking with?"
"I have the honor to be lieutenant of the Connecticut Guards. I am Eli Forest."
"Tell Col. Arnold that I shall be pleased to see him, and, believe me, I am proud to have met Lieut. Forest."
When Forest returned to Arnold he found the New Haven colonel very anxious.
"Well, what says the farmer?"
"He may be a farmer, but he is a well-educated gentleman."
"You don't mean——"
"We have been deceived. You will find that he is our—my equal."
"So much the better; I shall win the surer."
In the camp of the mountaineers the center of attraction was Martha Baker. Many of the Bennington boys knew her, though she had greatly improved during her stay at New Haven.
She sought the presence of Col. Allen and besought him to be careful of his treatment of the guardsman of New Haven.
"If it is Benedict Arnold who is coming, he means you no good," she said, very earnestly; "my friend in New Haven knew him well, and she was certain that he was in favor of England."
"Thank you, Martha; I will know how to deal with him. I am glad that you have told me."
Benedict Arnold lost no time in seeking an audience with Ethan Allen.
"I have come from Cambridge," he said, "with but one object in view."
"I shall be very pleased to hear your project, if you care to confide it to me."
"I heard of your fame"—Ethan bowed—"and I felt that if there was to be any great work accomplished, Col. Ethan Allen was the man to make it apparent."
Arnold had spoken with great deference. "I was appointed colonel by the Provincial Council; but when I heard that Ethan Allen and his Green Mountain Boys were about to attack Fort Ticonderoga, I thought that I could serve my country best by offering myself and my guards to him, and I ask no other favor than to be allowed to enlist under your banner as a private soldier."
"My dear colonel, I cannot think of such a thing."
"On no other terms would I consent. My men are all well drilled and are ready to join you under the same conditions."
"Let us meet on equal terms; we will jointly command."
"No, Col. Allen; in military matters there should be no divided authority. I will serve under you, and if you wish my advice I shall be ready to give it, but I will not accept a share in the command."
The interview was a long one.
Ethan Allen was completely fascinated with Arnold. He believed that if there was a genuine patriot in the colony it was he.
Arnold, having recovered from his surprise at finding Allen an educated man, conceived a liking for him and resolved to act squarely in all his dealings with him.
Arnold was better read in history than the mountaineer, and he knew the history of Ticonderoga as well as he knew the later history of New Haven.
"The French knew what they were doing when they fortified Ticonderoga," Arnold remarked, when the strength of the fort was being discussed.
"Tell me all you know about it, will you not?"
"My dear Allen, I am always at your service. You remember—but no, you would be too young; we were but boys then—but in 1755 Gen. William Johnson was ordered by the British to drive the French from the shores of Lake Champlain. Johnson had a fine body of men, three thousand four hundred in number, including a body of friendly Mohawks. Oh, those Mohawks! They are fighters, every one of them. I wish we had a thousand of them with us."
"We do not need them."
"No, but we shall before the English are taught the lesson we intend to teach them—that is, to mind their own business. The French general, Dieskau, who was commandant at Crown Point, was one of the most daring men of whom I have ever heard. He had only fourteen hundred men, French, Indians and Canadians, all told, but with this force he made up his mind he would anticipate the movements of the English and drive them back to Albany. He sailed up the lake to South Bay. From there he marched to the upper springs of Wood Creek, intending to pass the English army and capture Fort Edward before the alarm could be given. But the news was carried to Gen. Johnson. A natural, a boy, half an idiot, ran into the general's presence and cried out: 'The French are marching like mad!' A scout was sent out and the truth learned. Col. Williams, with a force of a thousand men, accompanied by Mohawk Chief Hendrick, with two hundred warriors, set out to relieve the threatened fort."
"Hendrick was a very old man, was he not?"
"Yes, he was gray-headed, and though very old he was as stalwart as any of the younger men of the tribe. Dieskau had been misled as to the route, and found himself four miles to the north of Fort Edward, when he should have been there. His scouts reported that Williams and Hendrick were marching to the fort, and the daring Frenchman quickly ordered his forces into ambush, and the English were entrapped. Both Williams and Hendrick fell dead, and the English were badly routed. Johnson heard the noise of battle and quickly extemporized breastworks by felling trees; the cannon were brought into position and then the English awaited the triumphant French. It must have been a glorious fight.
"The Indians, with Dieskau, when they saw the cannon, quietly walked to a hill at a safe distance, and watched the battle. The Canadians, who had hoped the Indians would have done the most of the fighting, were disheartened and left the French to make the onset alone. Bravely they fought, and for five hours, the battle raged. Johnson was wounded early in the tight, and the men fought without a leader."
"But Johnson got the credit?"
"Yes, and was made a baronet by England; but, between you and I, the man was only slightly wounded, and was glad of an excuse to escape the danger of the battle."
"Johnson was no coward."
"Perhaps not; but have you not heard of that commander who, when wounded, insisted on staying on the field and giving orders until he dropped dead? That was a true hero, if you like. Then note the difference. Dieskau was wounded three times and would not retire. He sat on a tree stump and refused to be carried off the field. A renegade Frenchman who had joined the English went up to him to make him a prisoner. Dieskau was about to hand the man his watch as a token of surrender, but the Frenchman, thinking the general intended to draw a pistol, fired, and the brave commander dropped, mortally wounded. But though the victory was with the English, it was dearly purchased. The French were not disheartened, for they reinforced Crown Point and seized Ticonderoga, which they fortified."
"Is Ticonderoga so very strong?" asked Allen, who had listened so attentively to the historical narrative told by Arnold.
"Yes. Abercrombie for four hours stormed it. Column after column dashed with great bravery against the breastworks, but only to meet with failure. Abercrombie could have returned with a larger army and heavier guns, but he did not. He had fifteen thousand men, while the French had not more than eight thousand on the outside. In 1759 the French, being hard pressed, dismantled the fort and the English walked into it. It cost the English eight million pounds to repair, enlarge and strengthen it."
"And in a few days it will be in our possession."
"I hope so."
"It must be."
"Have you sent out any scouts to find its strength?"
"Yes, one—a boy named Ebenezer Pike."
"A boy?"
"Yes, a boy that I would back against all the men I ever saw."
"He may betray you."
"Col. Arnold, that makes three times you have expressed a fear of some one betraying our cause. Do not do it again, or I may——"
Allen paused. He did not wish to give offense.
"What? Speak out, man!"
"I may doubt you. I always was taught to think that a suspicious person was to be feared."
"Ha, ha, ha! Allen, do you see that sun?"
"Of course."
"It shines for all?"
"Yes."
"It is always constant? It never refuses to shine?"
"No."
"Then do not doubt me until that sun ceases to be constant and true."
Arnold appeared to agree with every suggestion made by Allen, and no man could be more pleasant.
Not one atom of distrust of Arnold was to be found in the whole of the mountaineer's mind.
Certainly he had no reason for it save the strong distrust manifested by Remember Baker because of the stories Martha had brought from New Haven.
On the evening of the ninth of May the combined forces of Allen and Arnold appeared on the eastern shore of Lake Champlain, opposite Ticonderoga.
The march had been so well planned and executed that the English had no knowledge of the movement of the Mountain Boys.
A difficulty, which had not been foreseen, had to be overcome.
There were only three small boats in which the men could be conveyed across the lake.
Usually there was quite a fleet of boats there, but the soldiers had taken most of the boats farther up the lake.
Arnold suggested the construction of rafts, but the felling of trees might make so much noise that the attention of the garrison might be called to it and the whole plan fail.
Men were sent up the shore to search for boats, while others were instructed to look for anything which could be utilized for rafts.
Half the night was wasted in the vain search, and some of the boys were discouraged.
Allen called the leaders together and asked the simple question:
"What shall we do?"
Let it not be thought that he hesitated. No, Ethan Allen never did that; he knew just what would be best, but he also knew that the men were more confident if they were consulted.
Eli Forest was the first to answer.
"It is impossible for us to cross, so I think it would be best to retire into the woods and fell trees, so that we might fashion rafts."
"How long would that delay us?"
"Not more than a week."
"What say you, Baker?"
"I do not like delay, yet—Ticonderoga is strong, and ten men could hold the place against a hundred."
"And you, Col. Arnold?"
"I am a soldier, and am ready to follow my superior. What he orders I shall loyally help to carry out."
"We will all do that," said Baker, half ashamed that he had shown any shadow of doubt about the advisability of attacking the fort.
"I know you are all true soldiers," replied Allen, "and I am ready to lead you against the fort. I think we can breakfast on the rations England has provided."
"Lead on and we will follow."
"Forest, do you pick the men in your company who have the strongest nerves and the pluckiest spirits to cross first; take the largest of the two large boats and get as many of the men over as possible."
"It shall be done."
"And you, Baker, follow the same instruction in reference to the Mountain Boys. The small boat we will reserve for Col. Arnold and myself. When you reach the other side, remember that there must not be a sound. No word must be uttered, no fire made, but let every man lie in the long grass and wait for orders."
A crew was selected for each boat, and the work of transporting the little army across the lake was commenced.
The men pulled steadily and noiselessly across the waters of the beautiful lake which the Indians called "Troquois," [Transcriber's note: Iroquois?] and the early French settlers, who objected to honoring the explorer, Samuel de Champlain, "Mere les Iroquois," and still later, "Iracosia."
It was slow work, and the men asked permission to swim across, but Allen was afraid the swim would be too exhausting.
When day broke the work had to cease, for the men at the fort would have seen the boats and been put on their guard.
Arnold looked at the handful of men and predicted failure.
Allen counted the men and found eighty-three.
That was the strength of his little army.
It seemed absurd to think of attacking one of the strongest fortresses on the continent with such a handful of men.
True, the garrison was small, but it was intrenched behind strong walls, a well-filled moat and a line of breastworks carefully designed, and improved bastions.
Allen called all his men together and addressed them.
"It is for your country that you will risk your lives," he said, "and while you take care not to run into needless danger, remember that only the daring will succeed. If we enter the fort, as we shall undoubtedly do, set up a shout which shall make the garrison think we have eight hundred instead of eighty men. Be brave, and the victory will be ours."
A thrill of excitement made every heart beat fast; cheeks glowed with pleasure, heads were borne erect with pride, and the few men looked invincible.
Allen and Arnold led the way; they never were in the rear.
When close to the fort they made a dash and gained the gateway.
"Stand back!" exclaimed the sentry.
He raised his musket to fire, but Allen knocked it on one side.
"Are you mad? Do you want to die?" he asked.
"Better die than be craven," answered the English soldier, bravely.
Allen had seized him round the waist and thrown him to the floor; he picked himself up and ran into the fort, closely followed by the mountaineers.
Suddenly the Green Mountain Boys set up such a shout as few garrisons had ever heard.
"We are inside," said Baker, exultingly.
"Ay, but not out," answered Forest, rather gloomily.
"Form into line!" shouted Arnold.
The men formed, facing the barracks, and were ready to fire should the garrison show fight.
Allen left the command of the men in the hands of Arnold, while he rushed to the quarters of the commandant.
Capt. Delaplace was asleep.
He had not heard the shout, though it was loud enough to wake the dead almost.
A sentinel stood guard outside the commandant's door.
Allen placed a pistol at his head and ordered him to stand aside.
The man obeyed like one in a dream.
Allen stood by the bedside of the sleeping commandant.
"Get up!" shouted the mountaineer.
The voice was loud enough to rouse the sleeper, who thought that the French had taken a fancy to come down the lake and try to recapture the fortress.
"Get up!"
The commandant sat up in bed.
"What do you want? Who are you?"
"Surrender this fortress instantly."
"By what authority?"
Allen flourished his sword as he replied:
"In the name of the Great Jehovah and the Continental Congress!"
Delaplace did not hesitate.
A sword was in close proximity to his heart, the shouts of the men outside showed that the enemy was in possession of the fort, so what could he do but surrender?
He reached to the side of the bed and took his sword.
"There is my sword, sir. I trust that you will allow me to dress."
"Certainly; report to me in half an hour. Sorry to disturb your sleep, captain, but war, you know, is not always considerate."
The English flag was borne on the breeze, and floated proudly over the fort.
Allen looked up at it and sighed.
It was a gallant flag, and a brave man does not like to see a flag of a great nation humiliated, even though he is fighting against it.
"Haul down the flag!"
"What shall we run up, colonel?"
The Provincials had no flag, and Allen ordered the English flag to be again run up, but with the Union down.
Across the waters of the lake the men were watching, and when they saw the flag run up, with the Union down, they knew that the fort had been taken, and they set up a cheer that could be heard across the water.
A hundred and twenty cannon and a vast amount of military stores fell into the hands of the Americans.
Great Britain had expended forty million dollars on Fort Ticonderoga from first to last, and a few undisciplined Mountain Boys wrested this proud possession from her.
Boats brought over the rest of the combined forces of Arnold and Allen, and the leader of the mountaineers made good his promise that they should breakfast in the fort on rations paid for by their enemy.
When an inventory had been made and sent in duplicate to the assembly of Connecticut and of Massachusetts by trusty messengers, Allen called together his officers and thrilled them by declaring that their work had only just begun.
"To-day we have captured the strongest fortress in America; in two days more we must be in Crown Point."
"And again we pledge ourselves to the hero of Ticonderoga, who will lead us to triumph!" exclaimed Baker.
"Ay, and our cry shall be," echoed Forest, "Liberty Freedom and Independence!"
Capt. Delaplace was fretful and soured by his defeat.
"If it had been in open fight," he said, "I should not have cared so much; but to be caught in a trap, it is enough to make a man kill himself."
He was speaking to Benedict Arnold, and that patriot was ready to listen almost gloatingly to the story.
Arnold was a peculiar man; he was kind and sympathetic, yet was ready to rejoice over the sufferings of the fallen.
Allen had asked Arnold to spend a portion of the day with the defeated officer, so that he might be more consoled, for company is always soothing.
Delaplace was a diplomat; he had imbibed the idea that every man had his price; in other words, that every man could be influenced for or against a cause by bribery in some form or other.
Being a quick reader of character, he saw that Arnold was ambitious, and he at once began to wonder whether ambition would lead him to be false to Allen.
"You have treated me very kindly," he said to Arnold, "and I shall report to my superiors, though——"
He paused, and there was a world of meaning in that sudden silence.
"Why do you hesitate? I know what you would say."
"Do you?"
"Yes; shall I tell you?"
"If you please."
"And you will tell me whether I am right?"
"On my honor as a soldier and a gentleman."
"You were about to say that such a recommendation would not even be a plea in mitigation of the death penalty if I should fall into the hands of the English."
Again there was silence.
"I am answered. Your silence proves that I am right. You need not think I am offended. I know I should be treated as a rebel, not as a prisoner of war."
"And, knowing this, you joined these men against the rule of your sovereign?"
"I knew that if the colonists failed the leaders would be hanged; if they succeeded they would found a new nation, and the chances were worth risking."
"Did you not think that England has a large army and a strong navy at her back?"
"Yes, and I knew it had strong forts; this is one of them."
"You sneer! I admit that England behaved scurvily in allowing me to have so few men."
"Nay, nay, captain. Fifty men, if they felt an interest in their work, could hold this fort against an army."
"You are the victor and so have a right to rebuke me. But do not think England will allow the colonies to be independent."
"Perhaps not, but at any rate the colonies will have won respect for themselves."
"But the leaders will be hanged."
"So let it be."
"Can you face the thought of death like that?"
"I can, for my country will be saved from a serfdom which no self-respecting nation should submit to."
"If—mind, I say if, for I do not think there is the remotest chance—but if the colonies were successful, what could they do for you? I suppose you might be a governor, or something like that, with no salary to speak of, while if you had remained loyal to your king you might have a chance——"
"Of being snubbed, insulted and laughed at."
Delaplace smiled. He had learned the cause of Arnold's action in joining the colonists—it was disappointed ambition. Could he play on that and win over Arnold? If so, then he would regain the fort, and that by treachery; but what of that? Would not the result justify the means?
"My dear general"—Arnold smiled at the title—"if anyone insulted or snubbed you it was through a misunderstanding. Tell me about it, and I think all can be rectified."
"It is too late."
"Not so; it is never too late for a great nation to rectify a wrong done to even the humblest of its subjects, let alone a man of such undoubted courage and rectitude as Gen. Arnold."
"I am not a general, but only a captain—in this adventure only a private."
"You should be a general. If the king knew you as well as I have learned to do in these few hours, you most likely would have the control of the army in the colonies."
"But the king will never have an opportunity to know me."
"Why not?"
"Only success can make me known to the king."
"Or failure; and then it would be too late."
"You see how impossible it would be for the king to know me."
"If I speak confidentially will you treat it as sacred to you alone?"
"Certainly."
"Pledge me your honor that you will never divulge what I am going to say."
"I am a soldier and a gentleman. My word is enough."
"Then I will accept your word. If I were free I could gain the ear of the king's advisers."
"But you are not free yet, and it may be some time before an exchange can be made."
"Exchange! Do you not know that there will be no exchange possible? If any of the rebels fall into the hands of the English they will be shot or hanged at once."
"In that case you would stand a poor showing."
"How so?"
"Because the first man taken by your side and hanged would lead us to hang an equal number of your men, and officers would have the first piece of rope."
Delaplace had not expected to hear such strong sentiments from Arnold, but he laughed and said that a soldier dealing with rebels knew that he took great risks, and that he must be prepared for them.
"But," he added, in a whisper, "if I could slip out of this fort and gain the English lines——"
"But you cannot slip out."
"If you were to help me I would guarantee that you would be a general of the English army in less than forty-eight hours, and, once gain that position, there is no limit to your success."
Arnold listened.
It was wrong of him to do so.
There was a temporary hesitation, but in a few seconds of time that passed.
"Captain, you have dishonored yourself by suggesting treason, and I have dishonored myself in listening. Know this: I have given my allegiance to the cause of the Provincials, and I will rise or fall with them."
"Be it so. I shall live to see you hanged as a rebel."
Arnold bowed very low in acknowledgment of the kindly expression of opinion.
"Thank you, Capt. Delaplace. I have no wish to see you hanged, but should the English hang even a private in our ranks, I should have no hesitation in hanging you with my own hands."
Questionable sentiments on both sides, but Arnold felt strongly at that time, and expressed himself as he thought.
He left the room and called the sergeant on guard.
"Double your guard. If Capt. Delaplace escapes I shall hold you responsible, and your neck will feel the effects of a tightened noose."
It was a blunt way of speaking, but Arnold never was very courteous to those of lesser rank.
"I hate that man," Arnold soliloquized, "and yet—well, the die is cast. I might have risen to a proud distinction had I remained loyal to the king, but I have not, and so my lot is with the colonists, and may they win, or our lives are of but little value. How could Delaplace get the ear of the king? Zounds! I believe it was only to tempt me into disloyalty to the colonies that he made the proposition."
His soliloquy was interrupted by the entrance of Eli Forest.
"Colonel, your advice is needed. Col. Allen wishes to confer with you."
"I will be with him immediately. Ah! here he is. You honor me too much, Gen. Allen."
"Nay, we are on equal footing, my dear Arnold. I wanted to consult with you about two things. We must secure Crown Point, that is a settled fact, and we must maintain our possession of this fort. Now, what shall we do with the prisoners?"
"Keep them well guarded and wait until some of our men fall into the hands of the enemy, and then act with them as they do with us."
"Perhaps that will be the wisest plan. I had thought of liberating them on parole."
"It would be madness."
"You think so?"
"I am sure of it. In the eyes of these men we are rebels and outlaws, and their parole would not prevent them from bringing the whole force of the English against us."
"You are right. Will you appoint the guard?"
"Let Forest have charge of the prisoners and the fort."
"An admirable suggestion! So it shall be done."
"Ay, Forest, and shoot anyone who attempts to leave the fort, whether friend or foe."
"You are very stern, Arnold."
"These times demand sternness."