by Jim DeFelice
"The girl and I have reached an agreement concerning her disposition," announced van Clynne. "There is a certain woman named Hulter on Long Island, who has need of assistance on her farm. Apparently you have already made her acquaintance."
"I have indeed. But when did she volunteer to take on a girl?"
"Tut, tut, my good man, she is not taking on a girl, but rather a daughter. And perhaps a son-in-law as well. These things are well valued by the Dutch."
Jake rolled his eyes at the Dutchman's typically belabored speech. He knew better than to ask van Clynne for an explanation of how he knew Mrs. Hulter. But he sensed that the good woman would indeed accept Alison.
"Long Island would be a good place for a wounded soldier to recover," said Alison hopefully.
"It would indeed," answered Daltoons.
"I think Culper would approve," said Jake. "It seems a satisfactory arrangement for all parties."
"It is one I championed from the beginning," said van Clynne.
Chapter Forty-eight
Wherein, the past is fondly, if questionably, recalled as our tale ventures towards its end.
Several hours later and some miles north on the Jersey shore, two tired but well-cheered travelers paused to let their horses drink from a stream.
"And so, it would appear that I have quite saved the day once more."
"You saved the day?" Jake's face twisted as he got down from his borrowed mare. Van Clynne had been uncharacteristically silent for nearly three minutes now, so he might have expected some such outburst as they paused. Still, it did not pay to allow any claim by the Dutchman to go unchallenged. "How, pray tell, did you manage that?"
"Through my usual pluck," said the squire. "Really, I would have thought by now you would be fully conversant with my methods."
"I will grant that you played a role in our escape," said Jake, "but frankly, I think you take far too much credit. As usual."
"Tut, tut, my good man, there is enough glory to go around. Though I would note that my intelligence proved correct; Philadelphia is Howe's target."
"Assuming he doesn't change his mind."
"Come now, the wig-maker would be the first to know. Nonetheless, your methods arrived at the proper solution eventually. I daresay that you ought not be over-criticized."
"My thanks for the compliment."
Jake stretched his legs, trying to fool his various pains into thinking they were temporary. In truth, he knew he had almost been too clever on this mission; all his plans had nearly come to naught. Nonetheless, he could not think of another way he might have tricked out the information. Howe's damnable golden flask had proven to contain a most difficult riddle.
"I shall make sure to mention your efforts to His Most Excellent Excellency General Washington when we meet," said van Clynne. "I shall reinforce your official report; a natural enhancement is needed for the dry tidings you render. Really, did your studies not include a proper recognition of the rhetorical arts?"
"When
you
meet General Washington?"
"Surely you are taking me with you to General Washington. Granted, my face — is nicked, but that was in the line of duty."
"I'm not sure I will introduce you at all."
"Come, sir, I realize you jest — yes, you play the fox, twirling my leg. Well, sir, I will indulge you. Nay, I will encourage you. You have earned a little laugh."
"I've earned a rest, I think."
"We have many miles to ride, and then you will rest," said van Clynne, adopting Jake's usual line of argument in these conversations. "Really, sometimes I wonder how you ever became a spy with such a shallow constitution. Let us board our horses and be off. We have but a few hours before darkness, and even if we ride all night, we will be hard-pressed to make the camp on time."
And so once again Lieutenant Colonel Jake Gibbs found himself in the familiar position of shaking his head as he traveled with van Clynne. There was, it will be admitted, a vague pleasure attached to the Dutchman's company, even as he complained that the trees were no longer as green as they once were.
"You know, Claus, you look quite young without your beard," ventured Jake as he boosted himself onto his horse's back. "I think you are not half as old as you pretend."
"Thank you, sir, for your kind words, but there is no need to win my affections with flattery. I already hold you in high esteem."
"I am surprised that you allowed your beard to be cut at all. Did you harbor some secret admiration for Alison?"
"Please, sir, let us not be so impertinent. Nor should you forget that I found you holding a British noblewoman in your arms. What will General Washington say to that, I wonder?"
"He might well ask if I kissed her," said Jake, spurring his mount. "And I will have to say I did."
Van Clynne prodded his horse to follow. The white-gray stallion was a sturdy beast, provided by a Jersey patriot. For once the Dutchman had the faster horse, and he quickly caught up to his companion.
"There was a time when a gentleman refused to tell whether he kissed or not. Now, if Governor Stuyvesant were here, I can assure you, things would be different. There was a gentleman, sir, despite his occasional show of temper. A gentleman was a gentleman under his direction; he inspired them."
"Indeed," answered Jake. "Indeed."
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