Something to my surprise, for I had fancied our business would scarcely wait so long, the day was half spent when an orderly--a new little man I had never seen before--came to rout me out and tell me that General Arnold commanded my presence in the room overhead. I could have wished for a little space in which to set a sleep-befuddled brain in order, but it was not given me. So far from it, I was still yawning foolishly behind my hand when I stumbled into Arnold’s presence, trying to look soldierly, and making a rather shameful failure of it, I fear. But the man behind the little writing-table gave no heed to my gapings. “Sit down, Captain Page,” he said briskly. “While you have been sleeping, we have come to some better understanding of this business--better for you and Champe, at all events. The order for your arrest has been suspended--or at least, made discretionary with me.” I saw how his vanity and self-esteem had been propitiated, and was glad, since therein lay our only hope. “We owe you much more than we have yet been able to pay, General--the sergeant and I,” I said, which was the truth masquerading as a lie. “So long as you are our judge-advocate, we don’t fear the drumhead court. But now, if it is permitted, I should like to inquire how suspicion fell specially on us.” When he answered, his frown was not for me. “There is a mystery about it, Captain. Castner claimed to have had speech with a spy, who incriminated you and Champe on a direct charge; and upon that information the order for your arrest was issued--without my knowledge or approval, as I have said. Now, when I go to demand an explanation, the spy has disappeared and Castner is missing. No one else has seen the spy, and even his name is carefully suppressed.” I put on an air of surprise which I was far enough from feeling. Mr. James Askew’s tenderness about that whispered story of his part in the André betrayal accounted for everything but Castner’s disappearance. “You are looking for some motive under all this, General?” I inquired. “To be sure; and it is not far to seek. Lieutenant Castner is my personal enemy, and he has been at no pains to conceal that fact, Captain Page.” “You astonish me!” I exclaimed; and this, at least, was a pure falsehood. “It is true,” he asserted bitterly. “He has not scrupled to say openly that Sir Henry would do the king’s cause a worthy service if he would send me to Mr. Washington in chains!” “Then,” said I, smoothly, “you would rather expect to find him conniving at the crime I was charged with, than to find him striving to prevent it.” “It is a myth--this kidnapping tale,” said the traitor hotly. “He merely wished to deprive me of your services, Captain--at the expense of your life, if need be!”