[figure description] Page 242.[end figure description]

When, at the request of Arden, the soldiers had
left the room, not, however, without taking precautions
to guard against the escape of their prisoner,
Jacques gazed around the elegant apartment with
mingled wonder and surprise, twirling his bonnet
between his fingers, now looking at the ceiling,
now at the carpeted floor, and then, again, curiously
staring at those in whose presence he stood.

“Well, my good fellow,” said Arden, “if your
curiosity is quite satisfied, and you think you would
recognise the room and our faces when you meet
with either again, oblige me by giving an account
of yourself. You look not very formidable. How
is it that they made such a noise of their capture?
You appear very harmless and simple.”

“As simple a body, your valiancy,” replied
Jacques, looking at Eugenie and giving her an oblique
bow, “as ever burned powder.”

“I will safely answer for it; but how came you
in the hands of the guard? It might have gone hard
if this lady had not pleaded for you. Canst tell a
straight story?”

“That can I, you valiancy's worship; and sorry
am I to see your valour wounded! These wars are
bloodthirsty things.”

“You speak truly,” said Eugenie, in the Canadian
tongue; “tell me if you be indeed a Canadian
of Chaudiere, as I heard you say but now?”

When Jacques heard the accents of his native

[figure description] Page 243.[end figure description]

tongue he turned about with a sudden start of delight,
while a broad grin overspread his features.
After she had ceased, he continued to stare as if
struck dumb with pleasurable emotions.

“Speak,” she said, laughing, “if you have not
lost your tongue. 'Twas loud enough ten minutes
since.”

“May the blessed Virgin bless your valian—no,
your ladyship, and your ladyship's sweet lips! By
my beard! be'st thou from my country?”

“Tell me your country, and I can tell thee better.”

Here Jacques proceeded, with considerable elevation
of spirits, to relate his adventures, commencing
from the time of his becoming guide to the
monk, the allusion to whom at once awakened an
interest in his narrative in Eugenie's bosom. She
therefore listened with attention till he related the
outlines of his campaign, his escape in that day's
battle, and his impressment in the service of Pascalet,
and their visit to the rendezvous of the conspirators.

When he began to speak of a probable attempt
against the state, Eugenie became more attentive.
Jacques spoke in his Canadian patois, which was
not altogether intelligible to Arden, who had insensibly
closed his eyes, and fallen into a revery between
sleeping and waking.

She now questioned him closely in relation to
his late companions and their probable object, but
she could only elicit further that there was some
thing dropped by Pascalet about General Washington.
This intelligence alarmed her; and she
believed her benefactor, if not one far more dear to
her, to be in danger from this secret meeting. She
therefore determined, urged by the native strength
and energy of her character, which at times changed
her from the tender, confiding girl, to the

[figure description] Page 244.[end figure description]

self-possessed and heroic woman, to try to save him from
their machinations. Ascertaining minutely from
him the position of the rendezvous, she ordered
Jacques to remain, and, if Arden awoke, to say that
she would soon return. Enveloping her person in
Arden's cloak, and taking one of his pistols, she
placed his foraging-cap upon her head, and warning
Jacques to keep secrecy, she left the room.
Bidding the guard placed over Jacques, as she
passed him in the hall, to follow her, he mechanically
complied, as if obeying the order of a superior
officer. She passed the sentinel with a firm step,
crossed the square, and, turning the corner, discovered
the little window, with its faint glimmering
light, which Jacques had learned from Pascalet
was the conspirators' room, and had described to
her; then, observing the position of the door, she
was satisfied of its identity with his description.

“Soldier,” she said, stopping at the door and
disguising her voice, “remain here! On the least
alarm, hasten to me.”

With a bold heart she determined to enter and
see if she could learn or overhear anything to confirm
her apprehensions. Strengthened in her purpose
by her hopes and fears, she softly opened the
door. With a trembling but onward step, she carefully
felt her way along the wall till her foot touched
the lower step of the flight of stairs. She carefully
ascended, and, gaining the loft or entry above,
was directed by the light streaming from the illarranged
partition of the room in which the conspirators
were assembled. Dom. Joseph's door was
closed by the cott which Pascalet had drawn against
it in getting at the chest. But her observations
from the street showed her that the room opposite
the miser's contained the little window. Gliding
with a step, light as the fawn's upon the grass, past

[figure description] Page 245.[end figure description]

the door of the miser's room (within which she
could distinctly hear the faint voice of Dom. Joseph,
and the ringing of silver in the hands of Pascalet,
at which she closer wrapped her cloak about
her form, and grasped her pistol with a firmer hold),
she crossed the room and stood before the door of
the chamber. Cautiously she bent her ear to listen
to deliberations which she believed threatened
the peace of the government, if not the safety of
an individual who was its right arm in the field,
and to whom she herself was bound by every tie
of gratitude. She heard voices within as of men
in earnest conversation, but could neither distinctly
hear nor see. Apprehensive of being discovered
before she could convince herself of the truth of
her suspicions, she softly moved along to the extremity
of the partition where a ray of light
streamed through a crevice, and, to her surprise
and delight, obtained, by placing her eye close to
the aperture, which extended from the ceiling to
the floor, a full view of the interior of the room.

Gaining confidence as she found that she could
remain unobserved by those within, who were
closely engaged in debate, she took a survey of the
apartment. The floor was composed of rough
plank; the walls of exposed rafters and boards; and
the ceiling was brown with age, festooned with cobwebs,
and garnished with bundles of herbs, dried
mushrooms, and strings of onions. The windows,
of which there were two fronting on the square,
were closely secured; and the little four-paned aperture
to the right, the light of which was visible
without, was covered with a network of wire. The
apartment was destitute of furniture save a rough
pine table, and two benches equally rude, placed
on each side of it, crossed at one extremity by a
piece of board that served as a seat.

[figure description] Page 246.[end figure description]

These details were rapidly embraced, and the
eyes of Eugenie now rested upon the inmates of
the apartment with anxious alarm. On the transverse
board which formed the seat at the end of the
table, and directly opposite to her, sat a stout, dark-looking
man, with a broad brow, firm mouth, and
stern countenance; his hair was highly powdered,
brushed back from his forehead, and gathered in a
queue behind. He was busily writing by the light
of two meager tallow candles, placed in tarnished
tin stands before him, the only lights in the gloomy
apartment. Two gentlemen, one in the ordinary
costume of a wealthy citizen, the other in the undress
uniform of the British army, sat on his right
in low conversation. Opposite to these sat the
chevalier, playing with Percy's signet-ring, and
with his face turned towards the individual who
was writing, although his eyes constantly travelled
from face to face with suspicious glances. Beside
the chevalier, and nearly hiding his person from the
observation of Eugenie, was seated an elderly man
with a ferocious countenance, deeply marked by
lines of passion, but with the manners of a man of
rank and one used to good society, dressed in blue
broadcloth, and wearing a long queue tied with a
broad black riband. Eugenie remembered to have
seen him that day in the square before the headquarters
in conversation with General Washington.
He seemed now attentively listening to the conversation
of the two opposite. All of them, except
the gentleman at the head of the table, wore their
hats and cloaks; all carried side arms, and several
pistols lay upon the table. Eugenie gazed upon
the scene with intense interest, her most extravagant
suspicions confirmed by this aspect of the
meeting.

“Colonel,” said the elderly gentleman, waving

[figure description] Page 247.[end figure description]

his hand impatiently to one of the gentlemen opposite
in reference to something said by him, “I
beg your pardon, sir! but Washington himself
told me, not four hours since, that he should be at
headquarters at half past ten to-night, and would
there receive any communications from his friends,
in relation,” added the speaker, with a sinister
smile, “to the affairs of government. It is better
that we visit him as the deputation from the citizens
in relation to the preservation of property in
the threatened capture. I have prepared him for
this, and he will receive us as such: then our purpose
will be easily effected.”

The individual addressed was a slender, gentlemanly
man, about forty years of age, with a clear
hazel eye and high forehead, made still higher by
the prevalent fashion of wearing the hair brushed
back from the temples; his dress was scrupulously
neat and rich; his forefinger displayed a brilliant
of great size and beauty; and the belt of his
sword, protruding from his cloak, glittered with
costly settings. Altogether, he was a military
bean Brummel.

“Your plan, my dear major,” he said, in a slow,
lengthened, affected tone, as if he felt that he was
dignifying language by condescending to adopt it
in expressing his ideas, “has certain objections,
although, no doubt, it is concocted with the admirable
penetration for which you are so remarkable.
As I was but even now observing to my friend
and present neighbour, Mr. Walheim, when you
honoured us with your observations, it is my opinion
we had best make a sally upon our expected
captive as he passes through the area or square
from the river-side unto his headquarters. He is
never attended except by an orderly. One of his
aiddecamps is wounded, and the other, that

[figure description] Page 248.[end figure description]

modern Adonis, Burton, has left him, I learn, in consequence
of some misunderstanding.”

“Since the exposure and defeat of our last plan,
colonel,” replied the old gentleman, tartly, “he has
always been attended by several officers or a few
soldiers. He never goes out alone, sir.”

“A pretty brush with some of these rebels in
the street were a pleasant adventure. We shall
have the more honour in taking our game at bay.
I like not this surrounding a man's house like a
bailiff, and entering it like a thief. By the sword
of Hercules! 'tis not cavalierly, nor to be thought
of by gentlemen.”

“We plain citizens,” replied the gentleman who
sat beside him, with some asperity, “had rather
sell swords and pistols than use them, colonel. It
is now ten o'clock, and quite too late to follow your
suggestion if we could. We must act at once and
unanimously, or our plan, which has been postponed
now to the fourth night, will be abortive.
To-night or never! The only plan is to seize him
in his house. There are but two guards stationed
at the door, and two or three wounded officers
lodged there. As a deputation come to consult on
civil affairs, two of our number will be admitted;
the remaining two, with the four British soldiers
concealed in the adjoining garden, can master the
guard, and secure to us free egrees with our prisoner.
The governor is, I believe, with me?” he
concluded, casting his eyes, with a look between
assurance and inquiry, on the gentleman at the head
of the table, who at that moment laid aside his pen,
and looked around as if he was about to ask the
nature of their conversation.

“In what, Mr. Walheim?” he asked, drawing
up with an assumption of dignity and with a formal
look; “in what is the governor with Mr. Walheim,
pray?”

[figure description] Page 249.[end figure description]

“In seizing General Washington in his own
house at half past ten to-night.”

“Certainly, Mr. Walheim! certainly, gentlemen!
I supposed this to be perfectly understood. Major
Breadhelt and you are, I think, to gain an interview
with General Washington. You, colonel, and myself,
are, at the same time, to disarm the guard, and
conduct our captive to the boat, which for four
nights we have kept in waiting. Instead of rowing
with him to Staten Island as we at first intended,
we shall cross to Brooklyn in Waallaboght Bay,
where Percy, so says this Canadian gentleman,
will be in waiting with a suitable guard. If you
are guided by me, sirs, our plan cannot miscarry
like the last. It was disunion alone that defeated
that. Unanimity, gentlemen, is the soul of all great
enterprises, and what greater than the one in view,
which is to crush this rebellion in its bud?”

“Who, your excellency,” drawled the colonel,
“is to notify the Earl of Percy of the proper time
and place for his co-operation? We learn from
this Gallic gentleman that he received not our messenger.”

“For that reason, as you must have learned already
from him, Colonel Howard,” replied the
governor, “Percy has sent him to us to learn our
proceedings. Thanks to my vigilance, all is now
ripe! I have written to my Lord Percy. This
French or Canadian gentleman will take leave of
us in the square; and while we proceed to the execution
of our great enterprise, he will take boat
to Long Island and bear my letter to Percy. I
will read it to you, gentlemen, and see if, as I doubt
not, it meets with your cordial approval.”

Here the governor rose up, and, after clearing his
throat, began, in a declamatory, but slow and pompous
tone, to read what he had written:

[figure description] Page 250.[end figure description]

“We FOUR to you TWO, greeting. These, by
the bearer of the signet ring, will inform you that
we will place in your possession the American
lion, which we are now sure of capturing, at two
o'clock this night, it being now ten or thereabout.
Your l—dship, with Major N., will meet us at that
hour on the shore in Waallaboght Bay, where the
stream debouches into the aforesaid bay. You will
know the spot by a large umbrageous tree overhanging
the point of junction. Expecting soon to
have the honour of meeting my friends again in my
old gubernatorial mansion, I am your l—d—p's
humble servant.

“This is sufficiently plain, and, at the same time,
cautious enough, I opine, gentlemen,” he said, in
a tone of exultation. “'Tis almost `veni, vidi,
vici!' Ha, gentlemen? I will beg your indulgence
while I prepare one or two more in a similar
style, to be forwarded express to our friends and
coadjutors in Albany so soon as we have secured
our prize. By that time we will be ready to proceed
on our enterprise. I see you are examining
your arms, Mr. Breadhelt,” said the gentleman, resuming
his seat and pen. “I trust we shall not
have need for more than their silent eloquence.
We must not use them.”

“But if he resist?” asked the chevalier, quietly.

“Not even then,” said the governor, in a decided
tone.

“Let me join you, messieurs,” said the chev
alier.

“Humph! Chevalier, I will detain you while I
write and seal another note to Sir Henry Clinton,
which I beg you will request Lord Percy to

[figure description] Page 251.[end figure description]

forward directly on your arrival. When you are set
at liberty, monsieur, I shall be very happy to have
you present at my first gubernatorial levee. Our
possession of Washington's person will soon reinstate
us all in our usurped rights. Ha, gentlemen?”

“Your excellency is very obliging. I shall be
forced to proceed to-morrow to Quebec, whither I
am called by circumstances communicated to me
by letter while I was in France, materially affecting
my patrimony.”

His manner was gracious as he spoke, but his
eyes grew dark and scowling as if from the thoughts
associated with what he had uttered.

The governor was about to reply, when a slight
noise near the partition drew an exclamation from
the chevalier, whose ready hand grasped a pistol
that lay before him.

“Messieurs, we are observed,” he said, half rising.

“'Tis the old domine stumbling in the dark,”
said the governor, arresting his hand; “he watches
us as if we were plotting robbery.”

The chevalier laid down the pistol. The other
conspirators, who had not been moved by a noise
easily referrible to the movements of the occupant
of the house, impatient of their stay, continued to
converse to while away the time till the moment of
action arrived, while the governor became again
busy over his writing.

Eugenie, with extraordinary self-possession, listened
and impressed upon her memory the conversation
she overheard, although trembling at each
new development of the plans of the conspiracy.
Every line of the governor's letter she engraved
on her mind, and mentally ran over the characters
forming the signature, which she suspected was

[figure description] Page 252.[end figure description]

the initials of the names of the conspirators, and
treasured these up in her memory with a fixedness
and facility which were the natural result of the extraordinary
circumstances in which she was placed—
awakening all the energy of her character, and
calling into exercise faculties that she knew not,
until the moment of trial, that she possessed. She
was about to retrace her steps, and had gathered
her cloak about her for the purpose, when, as he
heard her move, the voice of the chevalier, whose
person had been wholly screened from her sight
by the interposition of the elderly gentleman by his
side, arrested her steps as if she had suddenly been
converted into a statue; and trembling, she knew
not why, she leaned against the partition for support.
Alarmed for her safety, she at once recovered
herself, wondering at her strange sensations
at the mere sound of a voice; it was, however, a
key to painful emotions which she could neither
trace to their source nor account for. After vainly
endeavouring to connect the voice with some link
in memory's chain, she lightly crossed the floor to
the stairs. At this moment a heavy fall, and a
low, glad cry, as if of exultation, from the miser's
room, startled her, and, quickening her pace, she
soon gained the street-door. With a lighter heart
she rejoined the soldier, and bade him remain and
follow the first person who should come forth from
the house, and, if possible, singly or with assistance,
arrest and convey him prisoner to Washington's
headquarters.

“You came out o' the general's house, and you
speak like an officer, but a some'at young un,” said
the soldier, respectfully, but as if he should like to
know who commanded him; “if I only knowed
your authority, or who gives orders—”

“Silence, sir, and obey!” interrupted Eugenie,

[figure description] Page 253.[end figure description]

firmly; and, leaving him, she hastened across the
square, and in a few moments stood in the presence
of Washington.

He was seated in the library in full uniform,
which was marked with the traces of recent severe
duty in the field, his arm leaning upon a table
covered with despatches, messages from Congress,
maps of fortifications, gazettes, and piles of open
letters. His military hat lay beside him, and an
open letter was in his hand, which supported his
head, as he sat in an attitude of deep and, as it
seemed, of painful thought. At the abrupt entrance
of Eugenie, disguised in hat and cloak, he
looked up; but with that dignity which never deserted
him, and without giving any signs of being
taken by surprise, he permitted the intruder to approach
close to the table and communicate his purpose.
She saw by his looks that he did not recognise
her. Recollecting her disguise, she threw
aside her cap and mantle, showing him her face
covered with the most beautiful confusion.

“What, Eugenie,” said the chief, sternly, “more
masquerading?”

“Forgive me, my noble benefactor!” she said,
at once recovering her self-possession; “I know
you will do so when you know all.”

Then, with remarkable precision and directness,
she detailed to him what she had discovered.

“Brave, heroic girl,” said Washington, with a
smile that repaid her for all her dangers, “you
know not how you have served my country. Half
past ten, did you say?” he asked, with coolness
and with an air of decision, as if conscious of successfully
defeating the machinations of his enemies.

Eugenie made no reply. He turned towards her,
and discovered that she had nearly fainted.

“Her noble spirit,” he said, tenderly and with

[figure description] Page 254.[end figure description]

sympathy, “has been wrought up to this crisis, and
now the strained chords are broken. Eugenie, my
noble Eugenie, try and recover your energies.”

She burst into tears, but instantly brushed them
away.

“'Tis but a momentary weakness. I'm better
now,” she said, smiling, and gratefully returning,
with her eyes, his sympathy; “but my heart was
so full of joy that I was enabled to tell you all! Oh,
lose not a moment, sir. Would it not be best to
try and seize the messenger with the letter if it be
not yet too late?”

“It will, my heroine,” he said, smiling and taking
up his sword and cap; “you are a true soldier's
daughter. I shall give the deputation a different
reception from what the hypocritical Walheim and
our tory ex-governor anticipate. Return, Eugenie,
to Mrs. Washington's room, or,” he added, playfully,
“to your patient in the drawing-room; but
not a word of this conspiracy! You and I must
share all the honours of defeating it.”

Eugenie left the room, while General Washington
hastily wrote a line on a slip of paper.

“Sentinel,” he said, going into the hall, “take
this to the quarters of your captain at the barracks
in Beekman-street. Make no delay.”

After the soldier had hastily departed with the
order, Washington threw on a cloak, and, taking
his sword under his arm, crossed the square and
approached the soldier left by Eugenie at the corner
of the street.

“Has your man come forth, soldier?” he inquired.

The bearing of his general could not be mistaken
by the man; and, although his face was purposely
hidden in the folds of his mantle, he replied,
paying the military salute at the same time, “He

[figure description] Page 255.[end figure description]

has not, general;” adding, to himself, “Now I see
I am under orders.” At this instant a man appeared
at the door, who, after saying “Adieu, Monsieur
Governeur!” to one who bore a light, but was not
visible to those without, sallied forth.

“Pascalet! Pascalet!” he called, as the door
closed upon him, and rapidly advancing up the
street.

“Ha, Pascalet! you are here?” he said, softly,
as he reached the corner. “Mon Dieu! no!” he
exclaimed, starting back and laying his hand upon
his sword as he discovered the figures of two strangers.
The powerful arm of Washington was at
the same instant upon his arm, and the bayonet of
the soldier against his breast.

“Surrender, sir!” said his captor, in a deep, stern
voice; “I hold you my prisoner.”

Unable to offer any resistance to an assault so
unexpected and so well enforced, he changed his
manner, and said politely,

“There is some mistake, monsieur!”

He however gave up his sword, and was conducted
by Washington to his quarters and into his
library. After closing the door and placing a guard
over him, he demanded his papers.

The chevalier drew forth his pocketbook and
presented it, saying,

“It contains only the title-deeds to my estate.”

The general hastily ran over its contents, and
was about to throw it down, when his eye was arrested
by a superscription. Eagerly taking out the
paper, he opened it, and glanced hastily and eagerly
over it; then, fixing his eyes sternly for a moment
upon the chevalier, whose own sunk beneath
their steady gaze, he, with a smile of gratification,
replaced it in the pocketbook and locked the whole
in a drawer of his secretary.

[figure description] Page 256.[end figure description]

“They are the titles of my property, monsieur,”
said the chevalier, with earnestness.

“We will examine into your titles by-and-by.
Deliver me now, if you please, the letter you bear
to Lord Percy from Governor Tryon.”

“Sacre! how knew you that secret?”

“I know your whole conspiracy. The letter,
sir!”

The chevalier, with a shrug, took from his breast
the packet and gave it to him in silence. The general
tore open the envelope, and while he was reading
the full confirmation of Eugenie's statement,
the prisoner, after gazing at him for a moment,
turned to his guard and said in a whisper,

“Who is this gentleman?”

“Who, but General Washington!” bluntly answered
the soldier.

“Ma foi! c'est le diable!” he ejaculated, lifting
his eyebrows in surprise and curiosity, and drawing
the corners of his mouth down in despair.

“I am sorry, sir,” replied Washington, folding
the letter, and placing it on the table before him,
“to place you under arrest as a conspirator against
the state.”

While he spoke the sentinel, accompanied by an
officer, entered the room.

“Captain Carter, you are in time. Are your
men at the gate?”

“They are, general,” said the captain, a tall
young man, with a frank and resolute countenance,
the manners of a student, and the eye of a soldier.

“Your ready compliance with my orders shall
be remembered. Take six of your men and let
them lie upon their arms within the yard. I have
certain information that, in ten minutes from hence,
my sentinels will be assaulted, and an attempt made

[figure description] Page 257.[end figure description]

to disarm them by four resolute men. I depend
upon you to defeat their object. Permit them to
secure the guard, who has his instructions, and
then surprise and take them prisoners. Do it, if
possible, without bloodshed. If, in the mean while,
two persons desire admittance, allow them to pass
in unmolested and without suspecting your presence.
There is a plan to take me prisoner in my
own house, but I have had timely news of it. Send
the remaining six men into my library.” These
orders were given with coolness and decision.

The young captain bowed, and, with a sparkling
eye, left the room to execute his orders.

In a few seconds a file of soldiers marched into
the library, followed by Jacques, whom Washington
ordered to be set at liberty. They were placed
against the wall, behind the open door, with fixed
bayonets, and, by the arrangement of the lights,
were thrown into deep shadow. The chevalier,
with his guard, also stood aloof in the dark part of
the room.

Washington, with the letter to Lord Percy open
in his hand, seated himself by the table in the full
light of the lamp, and composedly awaited the entrance
of the conspirators. In a few moments
footsteps were heard without, and the sentinel at the
door repeated, in a tone of more than usual confidence,

“Pass.”

A low knock at the door was answered by the
clear, calm voice of Washington.

“Come in.”

The door opened, and the two conspirators entered
and advanced towards him. He rose from
his chair, surveyed them with his usual dignified
composure as they approached, and said,

[figure description] Page 258.[end figure description]

“You are welcome, gentlemen. I have been for
some time expecting this honour.”

“And we, George Washington,” said Breadhelt,
in a loud, stern tone, levelling a pistol at his breast,
“have been long anticipating this triumph. Your
guards are already disarmed, and you are our prisoner.”

“We will leave that for these gentlemen to decide,”
said General Washington, with a smile of
triumph, as he turned aside the sliding shade from
the lamp and pointed behind them.

They turned and gazed upon each other in despair.
At a look from Washington the captain of
the file advanced and received their arms, which
they resigned in silence.

“I congratulate your excellency upon being the
favourite of the fickle goddess,” said the colonel,
as he tendered his sword. Then looking at his
friend, who stood folding his arms gloomily on his
breast, he continued, “We must bear this with
philosophy, my dear Breadhelt. Bah! there stands
our friend the chevalier. By the foot of Hercules!”
he said, as a struggle was heard without; “let us
not be discomfited; we are like to have company,
which will proportionably lessen our misery.”

As he spoke a soldier entered, and said,

“They are secured, your excellency.”

“Bid Captain Carter conduct the two leaders in,
and closely guard the soldiers.”

“Ha, Walheim,” said the colonel, “you are welcome.
Misery loveth good company. You see
we are circumvented, and quite hors du combat.”

“Where is the governor?” demanded Washington,
quickly, of the captain.

“One escaped, sir, but I have sent two soldiers
after him. I think they will yet take him.”

“Deceive not thyself, worthy youth,” said

[figure description] Page 259.[end figure description]

Howard; “the fugitive hath legs, and knoweth the use
of them. He hath learned it in this rebel war.”

“There hath been treason,” said Walheim, as
he entered guarded, and saw the situation of his
friends; “it never could have been discovered without
some vile treachery.” Breadhelt scowled, and
Howard deliberately said,

“Citizen Walheim, I have no sword, or I would
chastise thee for thy tongue's impertinence.”

“Gentlemen,” said Washington, sternly, “there
has been sufficient treason manifested by you all,
of which there is sufficient proof in the act in which
you have been taken. I presume you know something
of this, Colonel Howard?” he asked, displaying
the open letter taken from the chevalier. Here
are four initials which, I think, may fit names known
to you.”

Howard looked down, and seemed to be admiring
the mounting of his empty scabbard.

“'Tis no proof, sir!” Walheim said quickly;
“no names! nothing in a court of justice. A jury
could do nothing with it! no overt act, sir.”

“Sir,” said Arden, who had entered the room
and seated himself by the table during this scene,
“your confidants were taken with their pistols
levelled at the breast of General Washington.”

The citizen stared, and, growing pale, clinched
his hands in utter hopelessness. The exhibition of
the letter, however, had a different effect upon the
silent and moody Breadhelt. He started from the
sullen attitude he had fallen into when he found
himself so unexpectedly ensnared: seizing the letter,
and looking a moment at its contents, he said
earnestly,

“General Washington, how came you by this?”

“There is the bearer, sir,” said the general, directing
his eyes towards the extremity of the room,

[figure description] Page 260.[end figure description]

where the chevalier stood leaning in an easy an
apparently unconcerned attitude against the window.

Breadhelt turned and fixed his eyes steadily upon
the chevalier, and his countenance gradually lighted
up with a glow of satisfaction. Suddenly seizing
his own pistol from the hands of Captain Carter,
he levelled it at the chevalier, shouting,

“Die, traitor!”

The ball entered the chevalier's breast, and,
clasping his hands over his heart, he fell upon the
floor.

“Murderer, what have you done?” exclaimed
Washington. “This foreigner did not betray you;
he was my prisoner as well as yourself. Carter,
see that these traitors, who deal so lightly in blood,
are safely secured in the common prison to await
their trial.”

“Shall I bind them, general?”

“Ay,” he said, with indignation, “with chains, if
you will. I make you responsible for their safety.
Morton, ride for the surgeon.”

The conspirators were each guarded between
two soldiers, and led from the scene of their signal
defeat. At the gate they were joined by the
other prisoners, and marched to the prison a short
distance north from the head of Beekman-street.
Washington's resentment against the agent in this
plot was now turned into compassion for the victim
of revenge. The last of the soldiers left the
room as Mrs. Washington and Eugenie, alarmed
by the report of the pistol, rushed in. The former
tenderly embraced her husband, who had advanced
to assist the two soldiers that remained, in raising
the wounded man, while Eugenie instinctively
sought Arden and would have flown also into his

[figure description] Page 261.[end figure description]

arms had she not recollected herself. Taking his
hand, she said,

“Thank God, it is not you!”

“That poor gentleman,” said Arden, returning
the pressure; “one of the conspirators shot him on
suspicion of treachery.”

The soldiers now placed the wounded man on a
sofa, and endeavoured to stanch the blood.

“'Tis to no purpose. I am mortally wounded,”
he said.

“Do not hold me, Arden,” cried Eugenie, with
energy. “That voice I know! let me see him!”

She broke from Arden, who would have prevented
her from beholding a scene of suffering so
unfitted for the eyes of one so young and sensitive;
and yielding to a strange and sudden emotion, she
rushed forward and gazed fixedly on the changing
features of the expiring chevalier. Her brow gradually
became rigid, and her eyes lighted up with
increasing intelligence. At length, clasping her
hands together, she faintly murmured,

“'Tis my uncle.”

“Who? what do I hear?” cried the dying man,
raising himself on his elbow and gazing wildly in
her face. “Eugenie? 'Tis Eugenie! Oh God,
forgive me! Niece,” he continued, extending his
hand, “I have wronged thee, and was on my way
to wrong thee still further, even to the taking of
thy life. But justice at last has got her victim.
Have I your forgiveness?”

“Yes, yes! all—all,” she gasped, yet shrinking
from his outstretched hand.

“God bless you! I am dying. May the saints
intercede for me. The deeds—are—are,” his eyes
turned towards the secretary, and his head fell over
upon his shoulder.

A moment after, and the chevalier ceased to

p157-537 [figure description] Page 262.[end figure description]

hold any further interest in the hopes, fears, and
anxieties of this world; and the future, with its
great secret, to which we all look forward with
mingled curiosity and dread, was unfolded to his
dark spirit, the destiny of which, either for bliss or
wo, was now unalterably and for ever fixed.