“We’re full-handed; ten--countin’ the mate and the cook--and I’ve tried ’em, every one.” “Good. They’ll fight, if they have to?” “For me and the _Nancy Jane_--yes; but in the war, we’re neutrals, Captain Page,” he answered warily. “Like the devil you are!” I retorted, laughing at him. And then in low tones: “You weren’t so precisely neutral that night when you hung off and on in the river and dropped a dinghy to ferry two men and a prisoner across to Jersey, Captain Sprigg.” If I had given him an inch of a dagger between the ribs as I bent over to whisper this to him, he would not have jumped back any more quickly. “Sufferin’ Jehoshaphat!” he ejaculated thickly. “Who be you, anyway?” “Never mind me, Captain Elijah; we were talking about the schooner and her crew. Good men and true, you say: and have you any arms aboard?” He blew out his lips like a dying man gasping for breath. “Would I be tellin’ it to a redcoat officer if I had?” he demanded. “That is enough,” I laughed. “Now we can come to the arrangements for the day and night. You are footloose and can go where you please in the town. Watch the Queen’s Rangers’ barracks, and if the men are ordered to the northern road, do you come back here and stand before this tavern door. I’ll see you, and be with you promptly, to tell you what next.” I said nothing of all this to Champe when I went back to Arnold’s house and found the sergeant dozing before the fire in the orderly-room--which was possibly a mistake. But Champe had not invited my confidence in any matter remotely concerning Beatrix and her venture, and I think I was a little afraid of his tongue. So, while he dozed in his chair, I paced a nervous sentry-beat between the door and the window which commanded a view of the tavern, fearful lest the plan of sending Major Simcoe afield would not work; fearful also, lest Arnold might find some service for me which would interfere with my keeping of the appointment with Captain Sprigg. As it happened, however, the strain on my patience was the only one I was called on to bear. It was exactly four o’clock, as I noticed--having pulled my watch out of its pocket so many times during the long interval that it had grown bright from the handling--it was four to the minute, I say, when I saw Sprigg standing in front of the tavern door. There was nothing in the way to stop me from hurrying across to him, but I had a sudden access of caution and did not hurry. “Well?” said I, when I had lounged most leisurely up to my sour-faced tryst-keeper, and there was a whole world of impatience in the single word. “You’re a master hand at plotting,” he commented. “Thing worked” (he said “wukked”) “like a charm. Hull clamjamfrey of Simcoe’s men trotted out on the north road ’bout half an hour ago. Now what?”