Argosy, Vol. 85, No. 3 — page 143: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

PLAYING ‘With your indulgence, gentlemen,” he began slowly, in a low voice, ‘1 would ask a—a very great favor—a favor that may well be too great for you to grant. My’ only hope lies in certain things that I might say to one man—and that man is General Washington.” “Tf you hope to win clemency, sir, by giving up certain information with re- gard to the enemy,” said one of the officers gravely, ‘‘ such a proposal should be made to this court—not to General Washing- ton!” . “You misjudge me, sir!”’ David re- plied, in a firmer tone. “I am not one to barter honor for life in such a manner. It was my pleasure to meet his excellency on a certain occasion, and what I would say to him, now, is a private matter, be- tween one gentleman and another. I could say it-only to General Washington.” The president of the court shook his head almost sorrowfully. ‘Such requests are not uncommon, Mr. Treves,” he said, “‘ and I fear that it would be difficult for you to gain the desired audience with the commander-in-chief. However, I shall include your request in my report, and, if possible, I will see that it comes to the notice of his excellency.”’ He nodded to the officer at the door as he finished speaking, and the prisoner was led quickly from the room and conducted to his cell in the barn, where he sat down on his blanket and remained for a long time in a state of dumb stupefaction. Hours passed, and he thought with con- stantly increasing agony of Jessica and of the few good friends who would sin- cerely mourn his untimely and undeserved death. And his grief for the death of his friend did not cease. He and Adrian Ingold had known each other but a few months more than a year, yet their friendship had been of rare: quality, surviving even those vital differ- ences of thought and action which com- monly serve to break the most fraternail bonds. In his extremity of anguish and emotion he permitted himself even to wonder if THE MAN. 485 Adrian’s ideals had been more just .and true than his. For himself, he was loyal to the crown because his fathers had been sc before him—but Adrian’s ancestry had been no less loyal! He had lived in rare old England and been educated in British ideas and spirit -—but so had Adrian! He believed the colonies to be indubitably the possessions and dependencies of Britain, as essentially British as the British Isles—but Adrian had been an older man and a wiser man, and Adrian had seen the future of Ameri- ca all bright and glorious in the liberty and independence of a_ self-governed nation. The slender ray of sunlight that pene- trated the tiny hole that served as a window near the top of the cell, now lay horizontally in the dust-laden air, and the sufferer thought dully that the afternoon was waning. Then, as the beam of light grew more golden, a soldier came and unlocked the door. . “Come out, prisoner,”’ he commanded. ‘““T’ve orders to take you before his ex- cellency, General Washington. Make haste!” David sprang up, with a cry of hope and relief. ‘““Never fear, my friend,” he said; ‘“““haste’ is too slow a word for me at such a moment!” He was unshaven, his hair lacked powder, and his good black coat was creased and dusty, but he entered the Morris mansion again with the spring and vigor of new hope in his step and carriage. The house was full of officers, and despatch bearers were dartiny in and out, but General Washington was found sitting alone in the large room on the left of the entrance. ) “ You will wait outside the door, which you may close,” said the commander-in- chief to the soldier, as they entered, and then he bowed gravely to Dawid, without rising, and waved him courteously to a chair. ~ “T regret that our second meeting is so inauspicious, Mr. Treves,’’ said the rebel MICLOOOK C©