looming from the darkness on horseback. A pistol was silhouetted against the moon.
“ Stop or I will shoot you, and even in the dark I doubt I will miss.”
“ Jake pulled up short, surprised not only by the shadow’s sudden appearance, but by the fact that the voice accompanying it came from a woman.
“ I must see General Schuyler,” he managed to say just before the guards caught up with him. A hard smash from behind knocked him to the ground.
“ Someone ran up with a lantern. Jake came to in a half-lit fog, barely able to make out the forms before him.
“ I must see Schuyler,” he repeated.
“ I think that can be arranged,” said the soft, feminine voice before him.
The words brought his eyes into focus. He was staring at the most beautiful woman in all of New York and perhaps the entire North American continent, certainly at that moment, and most absolutely in the view of Lieutenant Colonel Jake Stewart Gibbs: Betsy Schuyler, the general’s daughter, stood over him.
“ You’re goddamn lucky I decided to come north tonight. And goddamn lucky that my daughter accompanied me. If she hadn’t been bringing her horses to the barn, those men would have killed you for escaping. What put such a thought in your head?”
And so Schuyler, in the manner of all great generals, had shifted the situation around to turn the blame on the subordinate before him. Jake, in the manner of all great subordinates, took it stiffly, with barely a frown, waiting for Schuyler to finish before pointing out, with all due respect — but not a farthing more — that not only had the general placed him in the situation, but the general’s own officers had been ready to hang him.
“ Captain Andrews has already explained that was merely a ruse,” answered the general. “And besides, he is attached to Gage, not myself.”
Jake decided this was a much satisfaction as he was likely to get, and devoted himself to giving the general his full impressions of the British situation, along with the knowledge of Burgoyne’s intentions. Schuyler received the intelligence with the gravity it deserved, nodding appropriately and making sure his secretary took copious notes.
Jake’s skills as a draftsman were put to the test penciling out what he had seen of troops dispositions and fortification around St. Johns and Crown Point. He had an artistic bent, having briefly indulged in some drawing and painting lessons during his studies in England, and was himself capable of at least attempting a style similar to Watteau, the French master whose great works dated from the beginning of the century. Watteau’s handling of color and its nuances would be particularly apt here, producing an emotional effect that would rally his audience to repel the invaders.
But of course there was no time for such subtlety. Jake merely crayoned annotated diagrams showing the L of the breastworks around St. Johns with the relative location of the boats of the British flotilla. Still, there was a certain flair to the twists he gave the sails, and only a dull observer would miss the fact that the British flag was purposely placed upside down and at half mast.
Artistic grandeur was not needed to show Schuyler the great dangers he faced. Burgoyne’s forces were tremendous on their own, a full threat to Ticonderoga and Albany behind her. But have Howe come north and clearly the Revolution was lost, and not just in Schuyler’s home state. Control of the Hudson River would split the entire country in two, since there was no way of communicating north to south without crossing the river. With the sea blockade against Massachusetts growing in effectiveness, the great cause of Freedom would wither and die.
“ We have only a few weeks at most to strengthen the northern defenses and prevent disaster,” said Schuyler while he studied the map with Jake. “But even if I can hold off Burgoyne, Howe will strike me from behind. I can’t fight both armies. Albany will have to be abandoned.”
The general’s forecast, dire as it was, reflected the unfortunate strategic realities of his position. Even if Washington decided to leave Philadelphia vulnerable and undertook an all-out effort to engage Howe in the Hudson Highlands, he was unlikely to stop him.
“ We have to intercept the messenger,” said Jake.
“ Absolutely,” the general grunted. “There was a flash in his eyes. Undoubtedly he was thinking of the same thing that had just occurred to Jake.
“ Perhaps we shouldn’t stop him completely,” said the general. “If his message were merely changed and then delivered, it might serve us better. If no answer arrives, Howe may send north for one or simply wait. But if Burgoyne told him, ‘Fine, go where you want,’ we’d be much better off. He’d pack his troops off for somewhere else.”
“ Too bad we can’t send him back to England,” said Jake, well aware that freeing Howe from a campaign up the Hudson would mean other complications.
“ You have ten days to accomplish the mission — change the message or kill him if you can’t. After that I will have to prepare for a withdrawal from Albany.”
Jake nodded as the general rose from his desk and walked to the door, where he called to one of his aides. “Alert Captain Kalman’s company that they’ll be riding south in the morning. Kalman is one of my best men,” he told Jake. “His troops will be more than adequate escort.”
“ Begging your pardon, sir, but a company of soldiers will draw too much attention. I’m best off on my own.”
“ I’m confident of your abilities, Jake, but I’m reluctant to send you by yourself. It’s too dangerous.”
The general’s concern for his welfare — as if he were sending him into the stormy night without an overcoat — was touching. Their short interview had done much to reverse the impression Jake had received when he’d called on Schuyler with his father on business before the war. It was almost as if Schuyler’s experiences since then had ennobled him somehow.
Or maybe they were both just tired.
“ I merely have to get into his things while he’s sleeping. Sneaking into Burgoyne’s ball under Carleton’s nose was much more difficult.”
“ I wouldn’t have approved that, either.”
Jake smiled and shrugged. “If things go wrong, I can just shoot the bastard. I’ll be behind our own lines, after all. It shouldn’t be too hard enlisting help if I need it.”
Besides, Jake knew one portly patriot who would be only too happy to help — once certain facts were explained to him in a logical, if forceful, manner.
It took considerably more persuasion, but Schuyler finally gave his consent for him to proceed alone. Being a general, however, he could not do so with a mere nod of his head. A grand and windy speech was called for, lauding Jake’s sense of patriotism and duty, complimenting his bravery, inciting his courage. It was almost too much to bear.
“ Do this as a lover of Freedom,” Schuyler said as he hit his stride at the end. “Do this for your family and your country. You have the fate of our freedom in your hands.”
“ General, you will win the governor’s race this year in a hare’s trot with a speech such as that,” said Jake.
Jake was not the only agent busy that evening. The man who had tracked him from Canada was in fact lurking but a few hundred yards away in the shadows of the fort, contemplating his next move.
After killing Leal, Manley had paddled his canoe across the lake, where he found the road heading south. It took no great powers of deduction to realize Jake must have taken that path, nor was it very difficult for Manley to persuade the first traveler he came upon to give up his horse. The poor man thought the mere crown he offered in exchange much too cheap, but he gladly settled for less when Manley displayed his pistol. The traveler got down quickly, handed him the reins, and then made a dash for the woods.
He got three steps away before Manley’s bullets took him in the back.
Once mounted, the British secret agent pushed the horse down the trail. But when the road forked, he went nearly a mile down the wrong path before realizing his mistake. Manley lost time inquiring about the Bull’s Head; when he finally arrived he was too late to do anything but observe the throng escorting Jake to prison.
He followed the mob as it carried Jake to justice. While part of him admired the poetic justice inherent in
