When he reached the city, Skoyles was still not entirely persuaded that he had done the right thing. The capture of Ezekiel Proudfoot would have been a powerful blow to the rebel cause, but Skoyles could not bear the thought of being the person who handed his friend over to the hangman. There was another factor that had to be taken into account. Proudfoot had once helped Skoyles to evade execution. Before the battle of Bemis Heights, Skoyles had joined the Continental Army as a recruit so that he could assess the strengths and weaknesses of the enemy camp. Spotted by Proudfoot, he could easily have been strung up as a spy, but his friend had kindly given him the opportunity to get away before he reported to his commander that he had recognized a redcoat officer in the camp.
To return the favor, Skoyles had to give Proudfoot time to warn his printer so that both could flee Germantown. Instead of going straight to army headquarters, therefore, Skoyles intended to return to his lodging and rehearse the story that he would tell General Howe. As it was, he got no further than the street in which he was staying. No sooner did he turn into it than six redcoat soldiers rushed to surround his horse and point their muskets up at him. Major Harry Featherstone strutted forward.
"I must ask you to surrender your weapons, Captain Skoyles," he said with a grim smile. "You are under arrest."
"On what charge?" demanded Skoyles in astonishment.
"Treason."
Elizabeth Rainham settled into a chair near the fire. Having enjoyed another shopping expedition with Lucy Tillman, she was glad to get back to the house for a rest. She was also concerned that her pregnant friend should not have too much exercise in her condition. After examining the various items that they had bought, the women turned to the subject that they most frequently discussed.
"Would you like the baby to be born in England?" asked Elizabeth.
"Of course," replied Lucy, "but the chances of that happening are very slim. Roderick may feel that the war will be over by spring, but that does not mean his regiment will be sent home. With my husband still in America, I'd never dream of going back to England."
"It would save you from making that dreadful voyage again."
"Yes, Elizabeth. I'm grateful for that."
"And they have excellent doctors here."
"Army surgeons can turn midwives, if necessary," said Lucy. "Look at Major Binyon's wife. Her twins were delivered in New York City by the regimental surgeon. Of course," she went on, "that's not a choice you'll have to make. If you wait until after the war before you marry, then your children will not come along until the army has left these shores. Have you talked with Captain Skoyles about raising a family?"
"Not yet, Lucy."
"It was the first thing that Roderick said when I accepted his proposal. Because he came from such a large family, he told me that he'd want at least four children."
"He might think differently if he had to give birth to them."
Lucy giggled. "That's true!"
"Besides," said Elizabeth, "I don't think that you can specify a number of children in advance. In the end, it comes down to luck how many times your union is blessed. I know that my parents wanted more children, but they had to settle for two girls."
"They only have one now, Elizabeth."
"Yes, and I'm on the other side of the world."
"Do you ever think of your sister?"
"All the time."
"In some ways, it was a fortunate escape that she didn't have to marry Major Featherstone."
"I don't know that I'd describe Cora's death as fortunate," said Elizabeth reflectively, "but I take your point. She was spared any future disappointment. The mistake that I made was in trying to live her life for her. It was only when I got to know Jamie that I found the courage to be myself."
"You are very much your own woman now," said Lucy approvingly.
"Coming to America helped me to grow up."
"It changes all of us, Elizabeth."
"It transformed me."
"Are you happier now?"
"Much happier, Lucy. These last few weeks have been bliss."
"It's been the same for me. Since you came to the city, everything has become that bit more enjoyable. Only yesterday, Roderick was saying how pleased he was that we'd become such friends. He thinks that you're good for me."
Elizabeth smiled. "I'd hate to be seen as a bad influence."
"I think I'm bad enough already," said Lucy with a grin.
"Fiddlesticks! You're an essentially good person, and you know it."
"You haven't seen my darker side yet."
"I refuse to believe that you have one."
Elizabeth looked up as she saw someone pass the window, then stop to open the front door. After a few moments, Roderick Tillman came into the room. He gave his wife a token kiss on the cheek, then turned to Elizabeth. She saw the unease in his face.
"Is something the matter, Captain Tillman?" she asked.
"I sincerely hope not."
"You look troubled."
"I am, Miss Rainham—on your behalf."
"Whatever do you mean?" said Lucy with a note of admonition. "I'll not have you upsetting my best friend, Roderick."
"I have no choice," he said sadly. "When I first heard the gossip, I refused to believe it but, apparently, it's quite true."
"What is?" said Elizabeth.
"Captain Skoyles has been arrested. He may face a court-martial."
Jamie Skoyles was in great discomfort. It was humiliating enough to be interrogated by General Howe in the presence of four armed soldiers. To have Major Harry Featherstone there as well made the whole experience both embarrassing and excruciating. He had been taken unawares and was now in a dire situation. Under the pressure of stern questioning, Skoyles was struggling to maintain his composure.
"I expected better of you, Captain Skoyles," said Howe.
"That's more than I'd ever do," added Featherstone, "but, then, I know the captain of old. His loyalties have a habit of shifting."
"I resent that, Major," Skoyles asserted. "I've served the British army dutifully for several years, and I'll not let you—or anyone else, for that matter—impugn my honor."
"You've done that for yourself."
"Leave this to me, Major," said Howe.
Eyeing the prisoner with a mixture of hostility and dismay, the general was seated behind the table in his office at headquarters. Featherstone occupied a chair to his right, but Skoyles was kept standing. His sword and pistol had been confiscated. Feeling at a distinct disadvantage, he made a strong protest.
"Why was I brought here like this?" he demanded.
"Because those were my orders," replied Howe.
"Did the major have to be involved?"
"He's a crucial witness."
"To what, sir?"
"Your treachery," said Featherstone.
Skoyles was vehement. "I strongly deny that charge!"
"Then let us examine the reasons for making it," said Howe coolly. "It's not an accusation that should be leveled against anyone without firm evidence to back it up. In your case, I regret to say, we appear to have that evidence."
"Allow me the courtesy of defending myself, General."
"I will, Captain Skoyles."
"Am I being accused by you or the major?"
"By both of us," said Featherstone.
"That is so," confirmed Howe. "It's only by chance that someone from your own regiment is here in Philadelphia, but his arrival has made me view your conduct in a very different light. According to the major, you and the detestable Ezekiel Proudfoot have been friends for many years. Is that true?"
There was an awkward pause. "Yes, sir," Skoyles admitted.
"Then why did you tell Lieutenant Orde that you had only seen Proudfoot once—enough, however, for you to be certain that the man arrested in the name of Reece Allen could not possibly be Proudfoot."
"There's no proof that it was."
"I disagree," said Featherstone. "The description tallies almost exac
tly with what I know of the man, except that he had grown a beard since I last saw him."
"I suspect that you wanted it to be Ezekiel Proudfoot," said Skoyles roundly, "whereas, in fact, the description could have fitted dozens of other people. You never saw this Reece Allen, Major."
"Neither did you, yet you insisted he could not be Proudfoot."
"I thought it unlikely."
"You're evading the point here, Captain," said Howe. "You and this fellow are friends. In other words, you told Lieutenant Orde a deliberate lie. Is that correct?"
"I may have misled him slightly."
"A lie is a lie, sir!"
"There are degrees of dishonesty."
"Damn it, man. Don't you dare argue with me! You obviously don't realize how critical your situation is. If you can't give me satisfactory answers, you'll face a court-martial that will hold the power of life and death over you. Does that mean nothing, Captain Skoyles?"
"It means a great deal," said Skoyles with dignity, "and I fervently hope that it will not reach that stage. Let me explain my conduct."
"Treason can never be excused," said Featherstone.
"But reputations can be vindicated, major."
"At this juncture, you do not have a reputation."
"As usual, I'm sure that you've done your best to besmirch it."
"Enough of this!" snapped Howe. "I did not bring the two of you here to trade insults. Honor is at stake, and there is nothing that a soldier holds more dear than that. Captain Skoyles has offered to explain his conduct. I suggest that you permit him to do so without interruption, Major Featherstone."
"Of course, General. I apologize."
"You may continue, Captain."
Skoyles needed a moment to gather his thoughts. He could see only too clearly how his actions could be misconstrued and knew that he had only himself to blame. When he had misled Lieutenant Orde about the possible identity of Reece Allen, he had reacted on impulse. He now sought to account for that impulse.
"Because I did not see the prisoner," he began, "I could not be sure if he was Ezekiel Proudfoot or not. In any case—and I ask you to bear this in mind—he was not released at my command. The lieutenant took that decision."
"Unfortunately," said Howe.
"Even if I had seen him, and even if I could identify him as Proudfoot, I'd still have recommended that he be released."
"Release my tormentor! That would have been lunacy."
"No, General. It would have ensured that I won complete respect at Valley Forge when the news reached there. You wanted a spy in their camp, but I was denied ready access to it. Major Clark, who is in charge of their intelligence, would not trust me until I'd proved myself. In helping Proudfoot to get away," argued Skoyles, "I'd be doing just that. You may have lost a prisoner but you would have gained far more in return. I would have been given the freedom of Valley Forge."
"It sounds to me as if you already have it," said Featherstone sourly. "You're working for the enemy, Captain Skoyles."
"That's not true."
"Supplying them with vital intelligence."
"I sought only to confuse them."
"Then why did they attack our most poorly defended camp this morning?" said Howe. "Did you know that it was almost overrun?"
"Yes, sir," said Skoyles, "I was there."
Howe gaped. "What? During the attack?"
"I arrived shortly after it began."
"Eager to see that his betrayal had borne fruit," said Featherstone.
"No," retorted Skoyles. "I went to visit a friend, Sergeant Caffrey."
"Is he a party to this conspiracy as well?"
"There is no conspiracy."
"Then why else were you there at that precise time?" said Howe.
"Tom Caffrey is a surgeon. When I was wounded recently," said Skoyles, using his left hand to touch his right shoulder, "he took care of me. I went to have the dressing changed." He began to undo his coat. "If you do not believe me, I'll show you the wound."
"That won't be necessary, Captain Skoyles."
"Then please stop accusing me of base motives."
"You compel me to do so," said Howe sharply. "Consider the facts. When I wished to give the Continental Army a bloody nose, I tried to entice them out of Valley Forge by telling them that one of our camps had inadequate troops and suspect fortifications. In fact, as we both know, I sent reinforcements there who lay in wait for a possible attack. But when that attack came," he continued harshly, "it was launched against the very camp from which those reinforcements were taken."
"That was an unhappy accident, General."
"It looks more like design to me."
Skoyles was shaken. "You surely do not believe that I told them where to strike?" he said with passion. "The message that I sent to Valley Forge was the one that you instructed me to send."
"We only have your word for that," said Featherstone skeptically.
"I'd swear an oath on the Bible to that effect."
"You warned the enemy where to attack."
"That's a monstrous suggestion," said Skoyles vehemently.
"But it accords with the facts," Howe pointed out, "and it's not the first time I've had reason to wonder if the information I gave you was altered before it reached Valley Forge. Our skirmishers were routed because a larger force was ready to ambush them."
"I know, general—I was there at the time."
"Did you give them advance warning, Captain Skoyles?"
"Of course not!"
"Have you been feeding intelligence to the enemy?"
"Yes," said Featherstone. "It's as plain as the nose on his face."
"Well?"
"Ask him about the way that he let Proudfoot escape once before."
"I'm waiting for an answer, Captain," said Howe.
"Then you shall have one, sir," said Skoyles, mustering all his self-control. "But, first, let me place on record that I'm deeply insulted you should even put such a question to me. I've obeyed my orders to the letter. Every scrap of information you have given me has been sent to Valley Forge in code. If the skirmish failed," he insisted, "it was not because I forewarned the rebels. I came under fire during our retreat. Do you think I'd alert an enemy so that they were in position to kill me?"
"They could easily have been under orders to spare you," said Featherstone. "We know that the rebels aim first at our officers, yet you escaped without a scratch."
"I suggest that you talk to some of the soldiers in that skirmish party, Major. They will tell you whether I acted improperly or not. I shot one man with a pistol and hacked others to death with my sword. Do you think that General Washington would pay me to kill his own men?"
"Yes—if he thought them expendable."
"The Continental Army is desperately short of troops," said Skoyles. "General Washington hoards them like a miser. He'll not sacrifice one, if he can help it. He would never willingly provide me—or any other British officer—with target practice."
"Putting all that aside," said Howe, "let us look more closely at today's sorry episode. Foreknowledge must have been involved."
"Well, it did not come from me, sir."
"How can I be certain of that?"
"Because I give you my word," Skoyles affirmed.
"Only a fool would trust it," said Featherstone. "You lied about your friendship with Proudfoot, and you're telling further lies now."
"I did not warn the enemy, Major. I hoped that they would be tempted to attack the designated target, and find that they had bitten off more than they could chew. Once again," he went on, "I urge you to speak to people who were there today. They'll tell you how I joined in the defense of the camp with a borrowed musket."
"Shooting over the heads of the rebels no doubt."
Skoyles bridled. "That remark is unworthy of you."
"Yet close to the truth, I suspect."
"The truth is that I fought like any other British soldier, and there are countless witnesses to that fact—Ser
geant Caffrey, for one. If I'd known beforehand that the attack would be made at that camp, why would I be reckless enough to risk my own life in going there?"
"I think that you went to admire your handiwork."
"Only you could place such a vile construction on it, Major."
"Scouts brought news of the attack hours ago," said Howe. "Why did it take you so long to return to the city, Captain Skoyles?"
"I first went to Germantown, sir."
"That would have taken you miles out of your way."
"There was a reason for that," Skoyles explained. "When the enemy withdrew, I watched them through my telescope. I noticed a man who had been observing the attack, and he went off along the Germantown road. I was fairly certain that it was Ezekiel Proudfoot."
"Even though you'd only had a brief glimpse of him," said Featherstone with heavy sarcasm. "What happened? Did you go after him so that you could collect your thirty pieces of silver?"
"No, Major. I tracked him to Germantown, and made inquiries at all the taverns. I eventually found one where a Reece Allen was staying."
"So he and Proudfoot are one and the same man."
"Apparently."
"Then why the devil didn't you arrest him?" Howe demanded.
"He was not there," said Skoyles, recalling what Proudfoot had told him about a man's capacity for lying when his life was in danger. "Besides, it would not have been politic for me to capture him. Had I done so, I'd have squandered the trust I'd so carefully built up at Valley Forge. I chose to report at once to you, General. If Proudfoot is in the town, the likelihood is that the man who prints The Pennsylvania Patriot is there as well. You have the opportunity to catch both of them. I urge you to institute an immediate search."
"You did not require my authority for that. Why did not you alert one of the regiments already in Germantown?"
"I knew that you had a personal interest in Proudfoot's capture."
"That much is undeniable," said Howe. He got to his feet, beckoned one of the guards, and whispered some orders to him. The man left the room quickly. "For your sake, Captain Skoyles, let's pray that Reece Allen is still in the town."
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