spondents in New York, and
from them had learned that Arnold was living in quarters
adjoining those of Sir Henry Clinton, at but a short
distance from the river, and apparently with no thought of
or precaution against danger. It might be possible to seize
him and carry him away bodily from the midst of his new
friends.
Sending for Major Henry Lee, a brave and shrewd cavalry
leader, Washington broached to him this important matter,
and submitted a plan of action which seemed to him to
promise success.
"It is a delicate and dangerous project," he said. "Much
depends on our finding an agent fit for such hazardous work.
You may have the man in your corps. Whoever volunteers for
this duty will lay me under the greatest personal
obligation, and may expect an ample reward. But no time is
to be lost. He must proceed, if possible, to-night."
"Not only courage and daring, but very peculiar talent, are
needed for such an enterprise," said Lee. "I have plenty of
brave men, but can think of only one whom I can recommend
for such a duty as this. His name is John Champe; his rank,
sergeant-major, but there is one serious obstacle in the
way,--he must appear to desert, and I fear that Champe has
too high a sense of military honor for that."
"Try him," said Washington. "The service he will do to his
country far outweighs anything he can do in the ranks. Rumor
says that other officers of high rank are ready to follow
Arnold's example. If we can punish this traitor, he will
have no imitators."
"I can try," answered Lee. "I may succeed. Champe is not
without ambition, and the object to be attained is a great
one. I may safely promise him the promotion which he
ardently desires."
"That will be but part of his reward," said Washington.
Lee sent for Champe. There entered in response a young man,
large and muscular of build, saturnine of countenance; a
grave, thoughtful, silent person, safe to trust with a
secret, for his words were few, his sense of honor high. In
all the army there was not his superior in courage and
persistence in anything he should undertake.
It was no agreeable surprise to the worthy fellow to learn
what he was desired to do. The plan was an admirable one,
he admitted, it promised the best results. He did not care
for peril, and was ready to venture on anything that would
not involve his honor; but to desert from his corps, to win
the scorn and detestation of his fellows, to seem to play
the trait
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