Hitherto, I had always gone willingly enough into the den of the wild beast we were seeking to entrap, but now I had a curious chilling of reluctance. What if Major Simcoe had already come ashore? What if he had sent another boat, after I had left him, with a second message to the expedition commander? What if--but there was no end to the list of things that might have happened, and the only way to die was to do it quickly and have it over with. So, packing my qualms into the smallest corner of my soul, I crossed swiftly to the house of threatenings, only to learn that Arnold had gone to an early conference with Sir Henry Clinton. Following him to the house next door, I was told by an orderly that he was closeted with the commander-in-chief, and was asked if I were the bearer of despatches. I said I was not, and lingered upon the door-step to wait for my interview. When it was over-long in coming, I left word with Arnold’s orderly that I would return later, and went to make a brisk circuit around the fort by way of walking off the cold chill of apprehension that seemed to be freezing the very blood in my veins. This walk brought me, in due time, to the water’s edge, and turning eastward I was led into that search for a boat which must precede all else in the plot we had devised. Some little distance up the shore, and well within range of the fort’s heavier ordnance, I placed the sailors’ groggery where Champe and I were to meet at the day’s end. It was a mere hovel on the hillside; a den where I thought a man would do well to go armed after nightfall. It was kept by a shock-headed Irishman, with foxy eyes and a fist like a rail-splitter’s. He served me with a can of grog, and when I asked him if he knew of any one who had a boat to sell, he gave me a cunning leer, and said the “other gentleman” was ahead of me. This told me that Champe had been before me; and thinking I might only direct suspicion toward him or myself, I paid for my drink and went back to see if Arnold had returned. This time I did not have to wait. Arnold was in his office-room above-stairs, and when I reported to him, he told me briefly that I was at liberty for the forenoon. Whereupon I was going away with a lighter heart, and should have carried the same out at the street door if I had not just been in time to meet Major Simcoe entering. There was clearly nothing to be done. The major was going up-stairs, and I did not see how I could stop him. If by any chance my shifty exploit of the night before should come in for mention, my race was run. “One moment, Major,” I said hurriedly, halting him when his foot was on the first step of the stair; “have you seen Lieutenant Castner?” He turned and said he had not, by which I inferred that he had not yet been to Sir Henry Clinton’s quarters. “He left me a little while ago, saying that he was going to the landing-place to meet you, or failing that, to send a boat off for you,” I went on calmly.