Arnold came to New York and took up his quarters at the King’s Arms Tavern, Number 9 Broadway. Here he lived and entertained the belief that the British cause was invincible. He began plans to bring success to the royal arms. He prepared and issued an address, “To the Inhabitants of America,” a long and labored article justifying his treachery. Then, a few days thereafter, he issued a proclamation entitled, “To the officers and soldiers of the Continental army who have the real interests of their country at heart and who are determined to be no longer the dupes of Congress or of France.” It was simply an offer of bribery to the Americans to desert their cause; but there were no responses. A few loyalists rallied around his standard,--those who were seeking officers’ positions in the British army. His mercenary spirit was expressed in this appeal. In the midst of these circumstances, Roderick Barclugh arrived from Philadelphia. His first sight when he walked into the King’s Arms Tavern was that of General Arnold pacing up and down before the fireplace in the tap-room. Arnold looked up and beheld with astonishment the tall and athletic form of Barclugh. Until now Arnold never had quaked before mortal man; but when the piercing glance of Barclugh met his gaze, a culprit shivering like a whipped dog was all that stood before Barclugh. Had the spirit of Washington appeared in his path, Arnold could not have been more abject. His tongue clove to the roof of his mouth. His eyes lost all power of vision and rolled nervously, as though hunted, in their sockets. Pitiable, indeed, in his moral transgression, stood the man once the pride of the patriot army, before one whose only claim to distinction was the gold that he could control. Barclugh was amazed at Arnold’s collapse. He felt guilty and powerless, himself. The love of Mollie Greydon had saved his life; he knew that his gold could never have done so. Yet Barclugh felt that he must not relinquish his power over the traitor, so he addressed him harshly: “You have ruined us all, Arnold. I am thankful to be here alive. The stain of Andre’s blood will always remain upon your escutcheon.” The traitor, nervous and guilty, looked around the tap-room, and whispered into Barclugh’s ear: “We better discuss our matters more privately.” Arnold now led the way to his chamber and there the two faced each other. Arnold began anxiously: “Barclugh, have you heard of my wife and child?” “No news, Arnold,” replied the financier. “Well, what is to become of her? I am dying by inches from anxiety. I would be willing to give up all for her safety,” wailed the traitor. “Cheer up, don’t whine about losses from your unfulfilled contract,” continued Barclugh. “What! do I not even get my money?” exclaimed Arnold. “Not a farthing more, if I can help it,” retorted the moneyed man. “How do you make that out?” asked the General. “Well, it’s business.” “What’s business to do with an affair of honor?”