t beyond all endurance. She would leave him alone, hoping that he
would recover his normal state again.

She walked to the window as if to look out. Then she turned and vanished
through the doorway into the hall.

IV

Several days later a courier rode up to the door and summoned General
Arnold before him, into whose care he delivered a letter from the
Headquarters of the Commander-in-chief. Strangely excited, the General
failed to perceive the identity of the messenger as he saluted and made
the usual brief inquiries. Only after the courier was well down the road
did the memory of his strangely familiar face recur to him. But he was
too preoccupied with the document to give him any more attention.
Breaking the seal he scanned the introductory addresses and read his
reprimand from his Commander-in-chief, a reprimand couched in the
tenderest language, a duty performed with the rarest delicacy and tact.

"Our profession is the chastest of all," it read. "Even the shadow of a
fault tarnishes the luster of our finest achievements. The least
inadvertence may rob us of the public favor so hard to be acquired. I
reprimand you for having forgotten that, in proportion as you have
rendered yourself formidable to our enemies, you should have been
guarded and temperate in your deportment towards your fellow citizens.
Exhibit anew those noble qualities which have placed you on the list of
our most valued commanders. I myself will furnish you, as far as it may
be in my power, with opportunities of regaining the esteem of your
country."

Slipping it again into its envelope, he slammed the door.

PART THREE

CHAPTER I

I

In one of those wide indentations along the eastern shore of the
Schuylkill River, there opens out in tranquil seclusion a spacious cove.
The waters wander here to rest, it seems, before resuming their
voluminous descent to the Delaware and the sea. Trees and saplings
wrapped about with close-clinging vines hang far over the water's edge
like so many silent sentinels on guard before the spot, their luxuriant
foliage weighing their bending twigs almost to the surface. Green
lily-pads and long ribboned water grass border the water's curve, and
toss gently in the wind ripples as they glide inwards with just murmur
enough to lull one to quiet and repose.

Into this scene, placid, clear, though of a deep and dark green under
the overhanging leaves, stole a small canoe with motion enough scarcely