“Your plan is an inspired one, General Arnold, and here are two thousand pounds in Bills of Exchange on the Bank of Amsterdam, which you can get cashed at my office as a token of my faith in you. Now, with my passport in my pocket I shall start at once by way of West Point for New York, and carry the good news to General Clinton. Be sure and communicate with General Washington at once for your assignment to your new command,” were the parting words of Roderick Barclugh, as he mounted his horse at daylight to begin his journey through the Jersey Highlands, under the disguise and name of Pierre La Fitte. CHAPTER XII When Roderick Barclugh left the office of General Arnold, he mounted his horse and took the Germantown road. The hour was just before dawn, and much fatigue after the exciting negotiations with the traitor caused Barclugh to ride briskly, while serious meditations flitted through his brain: “What will Washington think of Arnold’s request for assignment to West Point? I must pave the way for Arnold’s success. If I could only meet General Washington, being armed with the letter of Robert FitzMaurice, I would encourage the General to favor Arnold and explain away his unrest at Philadelphia. I could praise his deeds at Saratoga; how he longed for active service; his marriage and its financial obligations. The desire to please his wife entangled Arnold in unwarranted expenditures. To assign such a valuable leader to a post away from all allurements of society would preserve a valuable leader for active service after his wound had healed.” Thus he mused, while his horse alternately galloped and walked, until he realized that the sun had risen, and he found that he had reached the seat of his friend, Dr. William Greydon, who had urged him to stop at Dorminghurst, whenever he should have business that way. Knowing that he might have greater need of his horse later on in the course of his perilous journey, he considered it wisdom to stop and spend the day for rest and gather his thoughts and energy for a long ride the next day. He also wished to travel incognito and the less he stopped at public houses, the better his purpose was helped along. To stop at Dorminghurst did not require any length of argument, as Barclugh was young and still susceptible. Neither had he forgotten Miss Mollie Greydon who was at the dinner party of the Financier General; Barclugh recalled her beauty and intellectual qualities. Riding between the hemlocks to the mansion, Roderick Barclugh was struck with the taste of this American home. As he dismounted he was greeted by the master of the house on the portico, while his horse was attended by a watchful black servant. The welcome he received was in true Colonial fashion: “At last, Mr. Barclugh, you have made good your promise to break bread with me. I know that you must have risen early, so we can breakfast at once,” was the greeting of Dr. William Greydon. Turning to the servant, Dr. Greydon continued: