“I know,” she cried; “anybody else might have it, but not Arthur.” “Yes; unless Darthea--” “I understand, sir; and now I see it all. The elder brother will die. The father is old, the estate valuable, and this lying scamp with his winning ways will be master of Wyncote, and with a clear title if your father is able to bring it about. He can, Hugh, unless--” “What, aunt?” “Unless you intervene on account of my brother’s mental state.” “That I will never do! Never!” “Then you will lose it.” “Yes; it must go. I care but little, aunt.” “But I do, sir. You are Wynne of Wyncote.” I smiled, and made no reply. “The man stayed awhile longer, but your father after that soon talked at random, and addressed Arthur as Mr. Montresor. I doubt if he remembered a word of it the day after. When he left and went upstairs your father fell into sleep again. I went away home alone, and the day after to the Hill Farm.” “It is a strange story,” I said. “And did he get the deed before the army left?” My aunt thought not. “Mason says all the papers are at the counting-house, and that up to this time your father has made no special search. It was but two weeks or less before they left town.” It was a simple way to trap an over-cunning man, and it much amused me, who did not take the deed and estate matter to heart as did my aunt. When she said, “We must find it,” I could but say that it was my father’s business, and could wait; so far, at least, as I was concerned, I would do nothing. Of course I told it all to Jack when next we met. XXIII On Sunday, the 21st of June, while our chief was crossing into the Jerseys, I was hearing at Christ Church, for the first time, the words of prayer in which William White commended Congress and our armies and their great leader to the protecting mercy of Almighty God. General Arnold was already busy with the great household and equipage which soon did so much to involve him in temptations growing out of his fondness for display. The militia were unwilling to act as a body-guard, or to stand sentries beside the great lamp-posts at his door. Nor did McLane and the rest of us fancy the social and guard duties which the general exacted; but we had to obey orders, and were likely, I feared, to remain long in this ungrateful service. On June 30 we heard of the glorious battle at Monmouth, and with surprise of General Lee’s disgrace. On the 3d of July came Jack with a bayonet-thrust in his right shoulder and a nasty cut over the left temple. He was able to be afoot, but was quite unfit for service. I heard from him of the splendid courage and judgment shown by his Excellency, and of the profane and terrible language he had used to that traitor Lee. Jack said: “I was in the midst of a lot of scared men, with a leader who wanted only to get away. And then the general rode up, and all was changed. I think, Hugh, he was like an angry god of war. I should have died of the things he said to Mr. Lee.”