The Loyalist: A Story of the American RevolutionBarrett, James Francis
History
The Loyalist: A Story of the American Revolution
Barrett, James Francis
United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Fiction
"Of course--but--but--the truth is that I am in no way prepared to make
any offer now. I can communicate with you in a few days, or a week."
"Don't come here. You must not be seen here again. Send it to me or
better still meet me."
"Can you trust the Shippens?"
"Absolutely."
"Why not there?"
"You mean to confer with me there?"
"If it is safe, as you say, where would be more suitable?"
"True. But I must have some money as soon as possible. The nation is
bankrupt and my pay is long overdue. I cannot, however, persuade the
creditors any longer. I must have money."
"You shall have it. At Shippen's then."
He rose and walked directly to the door.
"Next week."
He shut the door after him and hurried along the corridor. As he turned
he came face to face with a countenance entirely familiar to him but
momentarily lost to his consciousness by its sudden and unexpected
appearance. In a second, however, he had recovered himself.
"Captain! I am pleased indeed."
He put out his hand.
Stephen thought for a moment. Then he grasped it.
"Mr. Anderson. What good fortune is this?"
"Complimentary. Simply paying my respects for kindness rendered."
"Have a care lest your zeal overwhelm you."
Anderson colored at the allusion.
"Thank you. I shall exercise all moderation."
Stephen watched him as he moved away, deliberating hurriedly on the
advisability of starting after him. Whatever his mission or his purpose,
he would not learn in this house certainly, nor from him nor from Arnold
for that matter. If he was intent on securing information concerning
this man he must do it in a surreptitious manner. There was no other
method of dealing with him, he thought, and in view of such
circumstances he deemed it perfectly legitimate to follow him at a safe
distance.
The more he thought over it the more readily did he resolve to take
action to the end that he might see more of him. Whatever mischief was
afoot, and he had no more than a mere suspicion that there was mischief
afoot, must reveal itself sooner or later. His object in all probability
had already been accomplished, nevertheless his errand, if he was
engaged on an errand, might be disclosed. He would follow him if for no
other purpose than to learn of his destination.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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