Jake tried through certain small head and eye movements to warn van Clynne away.
“ You know the prisoner?” demanded one of the officers.
“ Know him? He’s my fellow agent.”
The guards took a great interest in that.
“ We have been trying to intercept a traitor named Herstraw,” said van Clynne. “We’ve followed him all the way from Quebec.”
“ He told us nothing of that,” said one of the officers. The soldiers who did not have their guns drawn on Jake trained them on van Clynne.
“ Of course not. The Sons of Liberty have disguised themselves as his Majesty’s subjects, and lurk everywhere. Did you capture this Herstraw fellow?”
Van Clynne looked directly at Jake. They were now committed on this path, and Jake knew he would doom not only himself and van Clynne, but the entire mission by trying to change it.
“ He escaped, but I killed one of his men.” Jake displayed a look of disgust that would have soured the milk in a cow. “These buffoons crashed in on me just as I caught him. They were so inept, I thought at first they must be rebels themselves.”
A general commotion ensued, with the various members of Jake’s guard protesting that they had only been doing their duty and why did he run and how did they even know his story was true?
The argument had not progressed very far when Howe returned to the ship. Though relieved by the fact that the rumors of a rebel riot in the city were unfounded, the commander was nonetheless in a foul mood — not only had his day been disrupted, but a quick visit to Mrs. Loring’s house had found her not at home.
Jake and van Clynne soon found themselves at the apex of a large semicircle, delivering their story to the general and his audience. Van Clynne, of course, was constitutionally unable to deliver any speech briefly. His entire recitation of his trip from Montreal (where of course he hadn’t actually been) to Ticonderoga (another place he had not burdened with his presence) took nearly a half hour, not counting all the diversions and stops along the way. In brief, his story was this:
Burgoyne had charged him with bringing the message to Howe, and after much difficulty, he had. Jake, as loyal an assistant as God ever made, thought naturally he might be been even better if he had been born Dutch, accompanied him south. En route, a man named Herstraw had tried to get into their good graces by traveling with them. Thanks to a hastily if much explained stratagem, they were able to deduce that he was a rebel agent working to apprehend them. The pair kept their guard up so that he was forced to accompany them all the way until the city. Thereupon, they split their forces — Jake would endeavor to lead the man astray, pretending to have the bullet, and van Clynne would go aboard and deliver his message. Back on shore they would unite, break up the Sons of Liberty spy ring, and expose the traitorous snakes, much to the joy of all England.
While van Clynne spoke, Jake tried with various signals to ask if he had shown Howe the ruby-hilted knife. But van Clynne ignored or could not correctly interpret his pantomime, and merely increased the volume at which he expounded his tale.
There were more holes in the story than a fisherman’s net. Why, for instance, had van Clynne neglected to mention the plot once he was aboard with the general?
“ Well, Sir William, that is an excellent question, and points up my own inferior nature. Frankly, I was overawed by your august personage. AS you know, your hospitality so overwhelmed me when I first came aboard that I fully forgot my mission and became engrossed in your learned disputation.
“ And how did this Herstraw realize that you were a messenger?” demanded the general, not in the least swayed by van Clynne’s flattery.
“ A good question, Sir William, one that I will defer to my assistant, as he is more familiar with that portion of the case.”
“ Because, General, Major William Herstraw was enrolled as an officer in your messenger service, and thus gained access to the comings and goings of all messengers.”
Jake’s excuse was perfect, but he could not have angered Howe more had he accuse the general of trying to steal the queen’s handkerchief. To a man, the British officers on deck held their breath as their leader’s fury simmered.
“ The same man was assigned to deliver your last message to Burgoyne,” Jake said quickly. “He was clearly a double agent, and saw van Clynne get his assignment.”
The general shouted for the staff officer in charge of dispatches. The man came running from another part of the ship; asked if a Major Herstraw worked for him, he responded affirmatively.
“ Did you know he was a rebel?” demanded the general.
The officer began a vigorous defense, saying that Herstraw was among the best of his men.
“ Why do you think he was able to get through such hostile territory so quickly?” Jake asked.
“ What proof do you have?” the staff officer countered.
“ If you’ll unbind my hands, I can give you the message he intended to trade for the real one. The coward handed over the silver bullet when he saw I had him cornered, and confessed it all before his escape. Apparently, the rebels have laid a trap and wish you to attack north.”
The guards loosened his binds enough to allow Jake to reach inside his boot and retrieve the bullet.
The two notes from Burgoyne were quickly compared. Obviously, one was a forgery. But which one? The note that van Clynne handed over had purportedly been written by a secretary, with the general merely countersigning. The other was a full, if brief, letter in what seemed to be the general’s hand.
“ The signature is certainly his,” said Howe, examining van Clynne’s message. “But this letter you say is a forgery seems to be in the same hand.”
“ Does it make sense, General, that such a man as Gentleman Johnny would stoop to write an entire letter himself?” asked van Clynne.
“ No, it doesn’t,” said Howe, crumpling the note in his hand. “Nor does this sound like the braggart, begging for assistance.” He threw the letter overboard.
Jake barely kept himself from breaking into a smile. Finally, he thought, his mission was at an end.
Not quite.
“ But we have no positive proof of your identity either,” said the general. “Take them to prison.”
“ I have the coin that all messengers carry,” said Jake. “Burgoyne gave it to the squire, and he gave it to me in case I was captured.”
The captain of the messages inspected the token. It was, of course, authentic, having come from Herstraw himself.
“ But he could have taken it from our man as easily as he stole this bullet.”
“ True,” said the general. “It seems to me they’re a little too clever, especially this Dutchman — take them away and call my officers to conference.”
“ The knife,” hissed Jake.
The knife?
“ Ah yes,” remembered van Clynne, producing the weapon from inside his coat.
The soldiers surrounding Howe did not know the significance of the weapon and jumped to their commander’s protection. A short scuffle ensued as van Clynne attempted to peacefully hand over the blade and the soldiers fought not to receive it.
“ Bring me the knife,” said Howe, who of course did understand its significance. He eyed it — or more accurately, the man who had produced it — suspiciously. “Why did you not show me this before.”
“ Well, sir, I, uh, didn’t. Considering my orders.”
Howe pursed his lips. The agent was quite right not to speak of his mission or his identity. On the other hand, he could not think of a more unlikely member of the Secret Department.
“ How did you come by this — and why would someone of your station be asked to deliver a message?”
“ I can say nothing, except that I am a Dutch cousin, as it were, on borrowed assignment.”
Such was the mystery connected with the branch that Howe was not sure whether or not van Clynne might actually be telling the truth. He was about to send for the one man who might have some hint — General
Bacon — when Bacon’s boat pulled up alongside the Eagle, unbeckoned.
“ Another nest of vipers crushed,” said the intelligence chief preemptively as he walked onto the quarterdeck to report to Howe. A flock of subordinate officers traipsed at his heels, careful to keep several paces back. “My men
