As Segwuna arranged all matters for her night’s vigil, she suddenly turned toward Barclugh, for, as he lay prostrate, his arms were waving wildly in the air as he exclaimed in his delirium: “Arnold loves money! Yes, he loves money! Yes, General Clinton, he will get West Point from General Washington. I have offered him twenty thousand pounds sterling, and a General’s commission in the British army. Oh, that I had served my God with half the zeal I served my King. Yes, she is beautiful in her virtue. Oh! that wound will be the death of me! Yes, Risk shot me. There! There! All hands! Steady! Lads! Aim low! “Oh say, Miss, was I talking?” “Not much, Mr. Barclugh, be calm,” replied Segwuna, as she held the hand of the spy, and stroked his head, as he closed his eyes and dozed off into a semi-conscious state. These words of Barclugh in his delirium, though disconnected, agitated Segwuna beyond measure. She had seen Barclugh leave on the Sloop-of-War Albatross when she spoke to him at Paule’s Hook in the dark. She had followed him to New York after he had visited at Dorminghurst. She had traced him to the Beekman House, and now she heard him in his delirium. Segwuna knew that this referred to Arnold. She reasoned thus: “What conspiracy was this that had been divulged to her? Must she inform Congress? No. She had come here because she loved Mollie Greydon, and she must save Mr. Barclugh’s life. The Great Spirit had given her this knowledge, and she must find out all she could about Arnold and Mr. Barclugh. She could serve Congress by wisely learning all she possibly could. She must not blast Mollie’s hopes until the whole truth is known.” The night augured badly for Barclugh. He awoke from his stupor about ten o’clock, and his eyes showed intense suffering and sadness. He not only suffered intense physical agonies, but when his mind regained lucidity, thoughts of his plot with Arnold surged through his mind, and the look of anguish on his face was most pitiable. As the hour of eleven o’clock drew near, Segwuna noticed that the eyes of her patient glistened more than before, and an expression of abject helplessness came over his face. His face was flushed perceptibly and the nervous stroking of his stomach indicated to Segwuna that her applications of mustard ought to be applied. After these were administered to the feet and stomach, quietude succeeded the restless spell and the sick man lay peacefully until Dr. Greydon arrived in the morning. He noted a material reduction in the patient’s temperature. It was now down to 100 degrees, and the crisis seemed passed; but still the lower temperature did not indicate assurance of recovery. When the fever begins to decline a period of low fever and depression follows. If a relapse now occurs, the patient succumbs; but Segwuna watched over her charge for ten days, until he was able to sit up and partake of some solid food.