“ ‘ Through evil stratagem, he eluded my grasp, heading straight for the British lines and the succor of his traitorous companions.
“ ‘ Finding myself already drawn deep into Canadian territory, and having originally been destined there within to conduct lawful and legal business as granted by the general of this department, the good and patriotic Philip Schuyler of Fort Orange, a fine gentleman who honors the memory of his Dutch ancestors, I continued upon my way, making arrangements in connection with various and sundry businesses, all legal and without prejudice to the government of the glorious province of New Amsterdam, free and sovereign by the grace of God and the efforts of man.
“ ‘ Having completed this business, I returned south, intent on informing certain military acquaintances of mine of this matter. AT that point I had not the full knowledge of the perfidy of this fellow, who, not content with being a coward and deserting his own native cause, instead returned with the intent of doing it far greater harm as a spy and saboteur, going so far as to sound out the loyalty of the first group of persons he threw in with, obviously with the intent of recruiting them as a legion for the British.
“ ‘ Fortune put us back together, Providence intending that I serve as but a vessel for the State in apprehension. I alerted the local militia at the first opportunity and the arrest was made with dispatch.
“ ‘ I commend you good sirs on your patriotism and remain, yours sincerely in Liberty, Claus van Clynne.”
“ ‘ Postscript — he extorted a pound sterling, English currency, at gunpoint from me, and I should appreciate recompense, over and above whatever token reward is customary in such cases.”
The captain put down the letter and looked at the prisoner with as much sympathy as the snake would have elicited from Adam after the Fall.
At the very beginning of the epistle, Jake’s anger had flashed, but as it went on, he actually grew amused at the distortion of events. Not only was van Clynne’s pen as prolix as his tongue, he had quite effectively made himself the hero of the tale by shifting a few minor details around. Jake wondered what he would have done with the entire story had he known it — no doubt the portly Dutchman would have arrived at Ticonderoga with King George himself in chains.
The humor of the situation was lost on the captain. Being ignorant of Jake’s perspective, he believed van Clynne’s account, with some slight allowances for exaggeration and his habit of referring to things by the old Dutch names.
“ By returning to our lines, you have as good as admitted that you are a spy,” said the officer, “and the punishment for that is hanging.”
“ I am a spy,” said Jake. “For General Schuyler.”
“ You have no papers and no identification. I have the sworn testimony of a good American citizen against you.”
“ Now, does that letter sound believable?”
“ The testimony is from a roving member of the Committee of Correspondence.” The captain nodded at the guards. “Take him back to the cell.”
“ Wait a minute. I demand to see General Schuyler.”
“ He’ll see you on the scaffold,” said the officer as Jake was pulled from the room. “After you’re cut down.”
“ And another thing,” managed Jake before his mouth was clamped shut by one of the guards. “I only borrowed a shilling.”
Chapter Sixteen
Having witnessed firsthand certain defects in the Continental Army’s criminal justice system, Jake returned to his cell with a long list of recommendations for its improvement.
The prospects for implementing reform, however, did not appear particularly bright. While the sergeant kindly removed the gag covering his mouth when they arrived at the ell, his hands and legs remained shackled. The large door swung closed behind him and two guards took up positions outside it. His pockets had been emptied by the mob; there was neither weapon nor key in sight.
Jake told himself the trial had been a sham designed to intimidate him. But if so, why was there someone working in the courtyard outside the barred window, setting a beam over a small stage?
He was a good distance from panic, but he did allow himself to consider the irony of his situation. He wouldn’t be able to give a speech such as Nathan Hale had, when caught in New York? What could he say? I regret I have only one life to give, and it’s being taken by the wrong side?
“ Sergeant, who is the commanding officer of the fort? I must talk to him immediately. It’s urgent”
“ The sergeant’s not here, traitor,” hissed one of the guards.
“ Well, listen to me, who is in charge of the fort?” I have to talk to him about the enemy’s plans. I have to reach Schuyler.”
“ I’ll bet you’d like to talk strategy with him, you Tory scum,” said the sentry, who pounded the door with the butt of his musket. “Now shut up in there.”
A primed musket surely would have gone off if it had been slammed against the door so hard. That was a valuable piece of intelligence — they would not be able to fire if he made a break across the open courtyard.
Now all he had to do was shatter these agonizingly tight shackles, burst through the immensely thick walls, and made a desperate bolt for it.
“ Sergeant, tell the captain that I have valuable information for him about the disposition of the enemy forces.”
“ I’m not a sergeant, you Tory,” said the man, slamming the door again.
“ Get the sergeant, then. Get any officer. I have intelligence, damn it.”
“ I doubt he’d believe you.”
“ Listen,” said Jake, realizing what he would believe. “Tell him I want to make a full confession. Tell him I’ll give him a full rundown of the British Army’s dispositions.”
If he failed to find someone who knew him or would take him to Schuyler, he’d just signed his own death warrant — the captain would now be justified in having him hanged. But every hour in the goal increased the odds that Burgoyne’s invasion would succeed and Herstraw would reach Howe; desperate times require desperate action.
He could hear whisperings outside the door, and then footsteps away, Jake folded his arms and waited. The sergeant soon arrived and the door was opened.
“ The captain thought you would come around,” said the man, motioning with his hands for Jake to follow him from the cell. “Decided to make a clean breast of it, eh?”
“ When you’re caught, you’re caught,” said Jake. He took a step forward and was tripped by the chain, wrenching his ankle horribly in the fall.
His pain was so severe the sergeant ordered the leg manacle removed. When Jake was helped to his feet, he seemed barely able to stand, and had to lean on the sergeant for support. The guards, full of themselves, as if they had played a role in breaking the prisoner down, began whistling and walking ahead, their chests puffing with their prize.
As the sergeant stepped through the doorway into the courtyard, Jake dragged his injured leg heavily. The distance between the guards and their prisoner lengthened.
Two bare scrapes across the courtyard and Jake’s wandering eye caught sight of an unattended horse. In a flash, his ankle magically healed — he smashed the sergeant alongside the head with his elbow and leaped toward the animal, intending to ride him all the way to Albany if necessary, to find Schuyler and get him to rally the defenses against Burgoyne.
But escape was not to be so easily accomplished, for Jake found his path blocked unexpectedly by a figure
