He had been an apothecary, a horse trader, and a sea captain. His enterprise in business had been of the adventurous order. He had rubbed against the _hoi polloi_ of Colonial times. He was at home in a country dance among French Canadians on his journeys to trade Yankee notions for ponies, but when he entered the ultra-aristocratic circles of Philadelphia as the military commandant, he soon succumbed to the wiles of the beautiful women and the luxury of gay living; his head soon swam with the fantastic notions of a new and gilded life. He was an unsophisticated Adam, partaking of the sweets of life with no preparation of the appetite. His ardent nature was not tempered with the prudence of experience. He glutted himself like the gamin who enters a pie contest. The wine was red and he desired to indulge himself in its flavor. No consequences appealed to him in his mad intoxication; he had no wisdom; his gentility was crude. Although he was bold, he was reduced by circumstances to a parasite; he even surrendered his political principles to those of his wife and her friends. When these two social forces had met and were joined in matrimony, an abject imitation was made of the husband, and a tyrannical boaster of the wife. CHAPTER XXVIII Leaving his wife’s chamber, Arnold went to the office of Roderick Barclugh. He was smarting under the findings of the court-martial at Morristown, and under the monetary demands of a gay and ambitious wife. He had proposed to resign his commission in the army and settle upon an estate in the wilds of Western New York, and let history right the wrongs that had been heaped upon him, but the ambition of his wife intervened again. Her love of social distinction would not allow her to consent to a home in the wilderness. What a glorious record of heroism was thus turned into the wormwood of infamy! Desperation was written on his face when Arnold reached the office of Roderick Barclugh, who shook the General’s hand, saying: “I hope, General Arnold, that you do not think seriously of my heated discourse toward you yesterday, for I was weary and suffering from my wound. I was then ill-humored and out of patience. Anything that I can do to relieve your financial difficulties, you may command of me.” This unexpected liberality on the part of Barclugh now won the heart of Arnold. The ointment for a wounded spirit was in these words. Arnold sat down and smiled as he rubbed his hands and began to relate confidingly to Barclugh: “Mr. Barclugh, my life, thus far, has been full of hardship and bitterness. My honors have been won with a heart true to my country; no stigma yet rests upon my name; but my motives have been misjudged and maligned; the designs and calumny of wicked rivals have filled my life with despair.