My Lady of Doubt | Page 3

on slowly, "it affords us the opportunity we have
long been seeking of getting a competent military observer into
Philadelphia. Now that Sir Henry Clinton is in command of the British
forces directly opposing us, it is necessary that we know accurately
their number, state of discipline, guns, and any point of weakness in the
defences of the city. We require also information regarding the division
of troops under Sir Henry's command--the proportion of British,
Hessians, and Tories, together with some inkling as to Clinton's
immediate plans. There is a rumor abroad that Philadelphia is to be
evacuated, and that the British forces contemplate a retreat overland to
New York. Civilian fugitives drift into our camp constantly, bearing all
manner of wild reports, but these accounts are so varied as to be
practically valueless. We must possess accurate details, and to gain
these a man would need to be in the city several days, free to move
about, observe, and converse with the officers of the garrison. Do I
make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir; you propose forwarding the despatch by an officer who shall
impersonate this captured Lieutenant."
"Exactly. Fortesque is a young fellow about your age, and build. He has
been in the army only eight months, and in this country less than thirty
days. It is scarcely probable he is known personally to any of the
present Philadelphia garrison. There is a risk, of course, but in this case
it would seem to be small." He picked up a paper from off the table.
"Here is an officer's roster of the 42nd Regiment. It might be well for
you to familiarize yourself with a few of the names."
I studied the list a moment, bending down closer to the nearest candle,
while rapidly reviewing in my own mind the duty required. I had no
thought of refusal, yet appreciated to the full the possible danger of the
venture, and felt anxious to make no serious mistake. I had achieved a
reputation for reckless daring, yet this kind of service was hardly to my
liking. To wear British uniform meant my condemnation as a spy, if
discovered, and a death of disgrace. I had been within the lines of the
enemy often before, but always as a scout, wearing the homespun of
the Maryland Line, but this was to be a masquerade, a juggling with

chance. I was not greatly afraid of being unmasked by the officers of
the garrison, but there were those then in Philadelphia who knew
me--loyalists, secret sympathizers with our cause, and not a few
deserters from the army--whom I might encounter at any turn in the
road. The prospect was not alluring, yet a glance aside at the profile of
Washington, now bending low over a mass of papers, instantly
stiffened my resolve. It was work I had no excuse to shirk--indeed no
inclination--so I returned Hamilton's glance of inquiry frankly.
"You wish me to go at once?"
[Illustration: "I studied the list a moment, bending down closer to the
nearest candle"]
"The earlier the better. I will furnish passports through our lines, and
hard riding will put you across the neutral ground by daylight."
"One moment, Major," interrupted Washington quietly. "You were
doubtless acquainted with our late Inspector-General?"
"Yes," my face darkening.
"He is now in Philadelphia, and it might be safer were you to avoid
meeting him."
"General Washington," I said frankly, "I have been loyal to you
through all this controversy, but, nevertheless, have retained my
friendship with General Conway. I believe the misunderstanding
between you is entirely personal, and in no way affects his loyalty to
the cause. Whatever his present relations may be with the British
commander, I have the utmost faith that he would not betray me to
either death, or imprisonment."
"I am glad to hear your words," and the kindly face instantly brightened.
"This entire controversy has been most unfortunate, with wrong no
doubt upon both sides. Unquestionably you are right, yet I felt it my
duty to warn you of his presence at Clinton's headquarters. God bless
you, my boy, good-bye."

I grasped the hand extended across the table, and followed Hamilton
from the room, Gibbs still standing motionless and silent before the
fireplace.
CHAPTER II
WITHIN THE ENEMY'S LINES
A long cavalry cape concealing the British uniform I wore, my horse
and myself were ferried across the Schuylkill, just below the mouth of
Valley Creek, and there, amid the silence and darkness of the eastern
shore, I parted with Hamilton, who had accompanied me thus far,
whispering final words of instruction. My horse was a fresh one,
chosen from the stables of the Life Guard, but the trappings were of the
British service. Within five minutes I was out of sight of the picket fire
on