Читать книгу Arnold's Tempter - Benjamin F. Comfort - Страница 10

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After the dinner party at the FitzMaurice’s, the next morning was ominous with sullen clouds in the Arnold homestead. The servants were gliding from room to room in sober mien; conversations were carried on in whispers. The Madam was served with breakfast in her room, and the General had no appetite. The office of the Commandant of Philadelphia was streaked with strata of dark blue vitriolic language.

The first caller was Sven Svenson, who approached the sentinel before the General’s office door. The two fell into conversation.

“Haf Ganral Arnold been up?” asked Sven as he came near the sentinel, with his hat in his hand.

“I reckon not, Sven, he was mighty weak-kneed when he came home last night,” was the sentinel’s reply.

“Das varking maan haf to vark and vark for hees pay, and de Ganral eets and dreenks ahl day ant ahl night. Hee talks so hard at mee I haf to valk oudt ant svore I vas beat.”

“How much does the General owe you now, Sven?” asked the sentinel in an undertone.

“Tan pound starling for goot oeystar vat Mistrees Arnold vants for hair beeg koumpanee.”

“Ha, ha! Sven, you are in luck it’s not more,” blurted out the honest-faced Virginian who was standing guard at the Commandant’s office. “This Connecticut apothecary and horse-trader has succeeded to a position where he can gratify his desires for extravagant living, but if he keeps on in his present course, he will ruin our cause; but he has a spouse who leads him a good race, Sven.”

“Yah, Mistrees Arnold vent to ahl dee baals and deenirs vid Major Andre and dee Angleesh offeecirs as vas here een Pheeladalpheeia laast veentir,” said the Swede.

“Hush, hush, Sven, here comes the General,” whispered the sentinel, as he came to attention and saluted General Arnold who passed to his small office building next his residence.

Arnold did not look at Sven, but a scowl came over his brow as he passed into the little office room, slamming the door behind him.

Sven then approached the door very cautiously and rapped. An imperious voice inside roared:

“Come in.”

The first greeting Sven got was:

“What the devil you want here? Haven’t I told you not to come around here and bother me? I haven’t any money. So that settles it. Get right out of here.”

“But, Ganral Arnold, I need some maaney to——”

“Money, money,” roared the Commander as he arose from his seat and paced up and down the floor, never heeding the Swede. “Money! It is the nightmare of my life. I went to that dinner to drown the thoughts of the cursed stuff, but the only thing said by the nabobs was to get it, and the need of it comes upon me at arising. By thunder! I shall get it! I was never born to bear these pangs.

“Sven,” turning to the Swede, “go and tell Johnson, in the kitchen, to bring me a hot rum and have one yourself.”

“Ahl right, Ganral,” replied Sven, as he rubbed his hands gleefully, and made his retreat, glad to have a whole skin left.

The next caller was Captain Samuel Risk, of the Privateer Holker.

“Good morning, General. I’ve just come in with the snuggest kind of a prize,—a West Indian brig loaded out for home with sugar, rum and coffee for London merchants. She will net the firm of Milling & FitzMaurice ten thousand pounds sterling, and I have a neat little share besides.”

“What! ten thousand pounds sterling? Is it possible? Why, that firm of Milling & FitzMaurice must be very prosperous. I wish I could get into a little of that kind of business myself. My expenses of living are very great, Captain, and I must make something by commerce.”

“Well, well, General, that is a very easy matter.”

“Why, Captain, are there any chances?”

“Chances? Bless your soul, plenty, sir, plenty sir,” said the Captain. “All that we need are stern men, not too scrupulous and who can do a thing in such a way that the right hand will not know what the left hand does.”

“Ha! ha!” laughed Arnold. “Why, sir, you know I used to be a trader myself at one time,—a New England trader, sir. Before the war, sir, I used to drive my team and sleigh by way of Lake George to Canada and trade Yankee notions for horses. Then I would drive the horses overland and take them on a brig to the West Indies and trade them there for sugar, rum and molasses. So you see I am a trader, sir,—a New England horse-trader.”

“Well, if you are a horse-trader, General, you will do. We have an order from a merchant in New York for two thousand barrels of flour and we need a passport for the proper individual to pass through our lines to New York and return in order to effect the necessary business arrangements. If the trade goes through successfully we can afford to give you one third of the profits. We expect confidently to make about $10,000 out of the transaction in gold, and your share, General, will surely be $3000.”

“That’s merely a business transaction between private individuals and it will harm no one. But, Captain, could you make any advances on the profits, for I am very much in need of $1000 to-day and if it matters not to you, I will ask you for this amount now?” eagerly questioned Arnold.

“I would willingly make it $1000, General, only I have just $500 of gold with me; but I can give you that,” as he counts out the gold on the desk for General Arnold and keenly looks at him.

“Very well, Captain, that will help me out. It is settled,” said Arnold, as he grasped the gold and put it into his pockets with avidity.

“But remember, simply give me the name of the individual and I will furnish him with the passport through our lines, but do not let me know anything about his business.”

“That’s well, General, for commerce knows no country,” were the concluding remarks of Captain Risk as he bowed and started for the door. “I will be here to-morrow for the document. Good day, sir.”

“Good day, sir, but bring the other $500 if possible; I need it,” contended Arnold.

“If possible, General,” was the response, and the privateersman left Arnold to go directly to the office of Roderick Barclugh.