The Young Continentals at Trenton

The broad-fronted brick mansion in Crown Street was much like its master. It spoke eloquently of the days gone by; its furnishing and appointments clung as tenaciously to things past as did the political beliefs of their owner.

A serving man in livery of blue and white admitted them; and the merchant at once led George into a room where they found Major Hyde and the dragoon, Henderson, lounging.

“Gentlemen,” said the old Tory, most ceremoniously, “I desire to present you to a young gentleman who did me a service some time since. Mr. Prentiss—Major Hyde—Captain Henderson.”

Both officers greeted the young man cordially.

“We had the good luck to meet with him when he first came to New York,” said Hyde. Then with a laugh, he added: “Though we did not consider it good luck at the time, judging by our greetings.”

“’Pon my word,” said the dragoon, earnestly, “I was never so completely pinked over anything in my life. Would you believe it,” to the merchant, “I selected him as one to try my wit upon. And he flayed me, sir. He flayed me.”

The old Tory laughed.

“I can well believe it. He’s a good up-standing lad in more ways than one, I promise you.” Then after some further conversation, he said: “But I’ll leave him here with you for a few moments. I have some small matters to see to.”

When George met the merchant in the street, the sky was rapidly becoming overcast, and the wind raising eddies of dust; and as they entered the house, large scattering drops began to fall. Now, as the old gentleman left the room, the storm broke, and torrents of driving rain dashed against the windows.

“Hello, hello!” cried Henderson, “here’s a state of things, ’pon my soul! There’s rain enough for you, major, in all conscience.”

“Ring for lights, there’s a good fellow,” said Major Hyde.

Languidly the fop arose and did as requested; in a few moments the fine old apartment was yellowed with candle-light. Major Hyde sat back in the corner of a sofa and studied young Prentiss with speculative eyes. Noting this, Henderson turned to the young New Englander and said:

“These days keep some of you fellows on the jump, eh?”

“I’ve used up three horses in the last fortnight,” said George, “and I did what I could to save them, too. And others have been kept moving more briskly than I, by all accounts.”

“It seems the very deuce to get things settled for a fight,” complained the fop. “I always fancied it was a very simple arrangement—one side here and the other side there, and then go at it like all possessed. But it’s really like the plot of a play; everything must be settled and accounted for before a blow is struck.”

A rattling volley of thunder rolled along the sky; then a dash of lightning lit up all outdoors and showed them Crown Street running torrents of water.

“Of late,” said young Prentiss, “I have seen but little of either of you.”

“We’ve been with Greene,” answered Major Hyde. “Indeed, within the week that we invited you to share our quarters in Wall Street, we were forced to give it up and transfer to a barn of a place beyond Brooklyn.”

“Not fit for beasts to live in, let alone gentlemen,” said the dragoon officer. “I assure you,” earnestly, “I’ve never been asked to put up with such accommodations before.”

George Prentiss had no great tolerance for complaints of this character; popinjay soldiers who required to lie soft and live at their ease were scarcely the sort to win battles. But he answered smilingly:

“We had rough quarters enough before Boston. Sod huts and ramshackle affairs built of planks were considered luxurious; and many a winter night some of us slept on the ground beside a camp-fire.”

“At Boston, Mr. Prentiss, you were employed in a variety of ways, were you not?”

“Like many others,” replied the young New Englander, “I was willing to give what service I could.”

“Ah, yes, to be sure. But I have heard it hinted that your service took many uncommon forms. Your specialty was, in the main, the flanking of the enemy, not the facing of him.”

“I have done my share of the secret work that our necessities required,” said George, “though I never had any partiality or even liking for that form of the service. But some one had to do it, and why not I as well as another?”

“True enough.” Major Hyde settled himself farther back in the corner of the sofa; his hands were clasped about one knee; his eyes were peering and slit-like. “Of course,” he resumed, easily, “when a person acquires a reputation for a certain thing—especially when he has proven very satisfactory in it, indeed—he naturally is given the preference when work of that sort is needed.”

George nodded.

“Yes,” said he, quietly, “I suppose that is so.”

“General Putnam,” and Major Hyde laughed, “is a direct and rather simple-minded man. He was aware of the quality of your service, I know; and I suppose he did not hesitate to use you when occasion demanded.”

“I have undertaken some small enterprises for General Putnam,” answered George.

“Since you came to New York?”

“Yes; and before.”

There was a moment’s silence. The foppish dragoon had sat twiddling his thumbs; apparently he now fancied that the time had arrived for him to venture into the conversation once more; so he leaned toward George.

“Perhaps,” said he, “you’d not mind——” but here a sharp gesture from his friend cut him short. George sat facing a window; and, engaged in watching the play of the lightning and the dash of the rain upon the glass, he gave no sign of having noted the interruption.

“When a man of parts is employed in special service,” said Major Hyde, “it is naturally expected that he use his own discretion in many ways.”

Again George nodded. But this time he said nothing.

“But,” proceeded the other, and the slits between his eyes grew narrower and narrower, “there is, I think, a point at which a line should be drawn. He should not be privileged to exercise his discretion in all things. Limitations should be set.”

“I agree with you,” said the youth.

“In the securing of information,” said the major, “he must, of course, be at liberty to do as he sees fit. But after it is secured—it is there that the line should be drawn.”

“I don’t think I quite follow your meaning,” said George, vaguely.

At another time his naturally keen perception would have given him some indication as to the officer’s direction; but truth to tell, George had, for the last few moments, ceased following the speaker very closely.

The window through which he was gazing out upon the storm was bowed, and very large. It was hung with heavy curtains that were only partly drawn; and during the latter portion of Major Hyde’s remarks, George detected something like a movement behind these which had taken his attention.

“There is some one there,” flashed through the young man’s mind. “Some one who is listening.” However, now that he was sure of the state of affairs, his self-possession returned; he gave his attention to the speaker, all the time watching the curtain with the tail of his eye.

Major Hyde was frowning a little, but at the same time he kept a smile playing about his lips.

“I will make my meaning clear,” said he. “Some time ago I had a man servant who pleased me very much. He had a rare judgment in the matters that came within his province, and a close tongue. But—now, mark this—I found after some time that the close tongue did not always operate in my favor. He had a habit of receiving messages and then retailing to me those parts of them that he considered I should hear.”

“He was not lacking in presumption, along with his other qualities,” said George.

“I am inclined to agree with you,” remarked Major Hyde, drily. “He should have given me a choice at least, as to what parts I considered of no consequence.”

“Very impudent, ’pon my word,” observed Henderson.

“I am of the same opinion,” spoke George Prentiss. “But,” and he looked at Major Hyde composedly, “I am still rather at loss. Just what is your meaning? Somehow all this seems to apply to me. If I am wrong in this I beg of you to say so.”

“You are not wrong,” said Major Hyde.

“No,” put in the dragoon, “you are right.”

“General Putnam,” said Major Hyde, “employed you upon a certain occasion. I suppose you recall this, and also the nature of the employment. Being very intimate with headquarters affairs at the time, I was well informed in the matter. But I know that it resulted in nothing.”

“Go on,” said George.

“I mean that through motives of your own, you withheld certain information. You knew that a certain person—who for the moment shall be nameless—was concerned in machinations against the new government, and yet you did not denounce him.”

Footsteps could be heard coming along the corridor. George regarded the speaker fixedly.

“How do you know that I did not?” he asked.

“By the barrenness of the result; if you had done your duty, arrests would have been made.”

Here Mr. Camp reëntered the room; he carried a paper, apparently a letter, in his hand; and his face was beaming.

“Gentlemen,” said he, “will you do me the pleasure of walking this way?”

Major Hyde and Henderson at once arose and George did likewise. They passed into a room where a table was laid with much silver and delicate ware.

“Being short-handed,” apologized the old merchant, “I must do duty myself.” Then to George: “I sent most of my servants away yesterday.”

When he had again left them, George turned upon the officers.

“What other reason did you have?”

“What other was needed? Could anything have spoken more eloquently?” demanded Major Hyde.

“Oh, yes. General Putnam might have done so.”

At this the young New Englander saw the two men dart looks of covert meaning at each other. But he did not wait for either of them to reply.

“Another question,” said he, evenly. “May I ask how you came to be so familiar with what we might call the real results of my work?”

There was scarcely perceptible hesitation, then Major Hyde answered:

“Is it not possible that there are others beside yourself who have means of gaining secret information?”

“Let us grant that.” George spoke very coolly. “And then let us come to a more important thing. If you know of this person whom I have, as you say, failed to report, why have you waited for me? Why have you not reported him yourself?”

At this, to the astonishment of George, Major Hyde burst into a laugh; and his friend joined him heartily.

“Very shrewdly spoken,” said the major. “Eh, Henderson?”

“’Pon my soul,” said the dragoon, “I’ve never listened to a neater stroke of the tongue.”

“A little wager with Henderson, that is all,” explained Hyde, putting his hands upon George’s shoulders and swaying him backward and forward. “I ventured a good dinner that upon the very next time we met, I could worm something out of you regarding your private transactions for the various commanders. Henderson had a better notion of your shrewdness than I, so it seems, and——”

“And I expect the dinner to be paid with the utmost promptness,” declared the foppish dragoon, delightedly. “But, ’pon my soul, Hyde,” with a shout of laughter, “what a farrago of nonsense you used to gain your point! And how you scowled and shook your head! You should have turned your mind to play-acting instead of soldiering.”

“How am I to know, though,” and Major Hyde joined in the laugh, “that I did not come somewhere near the real facts as they stand? Come now, was there such a person as I imagined?”

“I can only say,” returned George, good-humoredly, “that I have done my plain duty upon all occasions. If I say more I may lose Captain Henderson his dinner.”

The dragoon slapped his thigh at this, and vowed that as a witticism he had never heard its equal.

“He’s a rare fellow, this lad from Boston,” declared he.

“He’s gotten the better of me this time, at any rate,” answered the major, good-naturedly enough.

The two were still laughing and discussing the matter when the old merchant reëntered. Then Major Hyde begged leave to retire for a moment.

“I have this matter noted down in a little book which I usually carry,” said he to George. “But it is in the pocket of another coat which I sent on here with some other traps a week ago. I’ll hunt it up and get all straight.”

“Not a moment do you get out of my sight,” declared the dragoon. “If you go, I’ll go with you.”

“Come along then,” laughed the other. “I’ll play fair. You shall have a peep with me.”

And so out they went; and George heard them go stamping up the stairs, wrangling and protesting and laughing; and as he listened, the young man somehow felt a doubt creep into his mind.