ew the outside and the grounds," replied the
captain. "The house is now called Beverly, the dock from which Arnold
made his escape Beverly Dock."

"He got into a boat, papa?" asked Neddie.

"Yes; into his barge, which conveyed him to the British ship
_Vulture_."

"Oh, can't you tell us the whole story of it now, papa, and let us go
to the place to-morrow?"

"That might be possible," returned the captain, "if no one objects to
hearing a rehearsal of the old story."

No one had any objection, and the captain proceeded with the
narrative.

"Arnold was a brave, daring, and successful soldier in the
Revolutionary War; one who did and suffered a great deal to win his
country's freedom, and perhaps if he had been treated with perfect
justice he might never have turned traitor. He was badly treated by
Congress and by Gates. After that he got into serious trouble through
his own reckless extravagance. He was deeply in debt and ready to do
almost anything for money. He had married into a Tory family, too, and
perhaps they had an influence in lessening his love for the cause of
freedom and making him willing to betray his country for the money he
coveted--for filthy lucre. He learned that Sir Henry Clinton so
coveted West Point that almost any sum of money and any honors would
be given the man who should enable the British to get possession of
that post. He pondered the matter, and resolved to do the dastardly
deed if possible. He had been declining active service on the plea
that his wounds rendered him unfit for riding on horseback. But now
his wounds healed rapidly, his patriotism was freshly aroused, and he
was eager to again serve his bleeding country.

"It was in that way he talked to his friends in Congress,--General
Schuyler and others,--men who, he knew, had influence with Washington.
He also prevailed upon Robert R. Livingston--a member of Congress--to
write to Washington and suggest the giving of the command of West
Point to Arnold.

"Then, under the pretence of having private business in Connecticut,
he went there, passing through the camp and paying his respects to
Washington on the way. But he said nothing about his wish to be
appointed to the command at West Point until he again called on his
return; then he suggested to Washington that on rejoining the army he
would like that post, as suited to his feelings and the state of his
health.

"Washington was surprised, but his suspicions were not aroused. So