We were hoping to have word that General Arnold would be sent to lead them in place of those who had started to do so—a General Thompson, who had appeared from God knows where, and of whom nobody seemed to know anything except that he was an Irishman; and Colonel St. Clair, who had been in the British army many years ago. We were suspicious of Thompson and St. Clair. Our troops, we knew, were not inclined to have the greatest of faith in Irishmen or Englishmen—especially in Irishmen or Englishmen of whom they had never heard. That was why we hoped that Arnold would be put in command of the new regiments. Not only would men follow him anywhere, and against any odds; but he alone, of all the high officers left with this stricken army of ours, was familiar with the country and the people. He knew how to lead, and where to lead; and we suspected he was the only one that did know.

As I stood in front of Hersom’s warehouse, I was flabbergasted to see Nathaniel come striding along the river road as if he well knew where he was going, and was in a hurry to get there. He had on a white jacket with a fringe at the edge, and brown leather breeches with brown stockings pulled over them and made fast below the knee with bands of red wool. There was even a long queue, half hair and half rope, hanging down his back.

When I ran out and took him by the elbow, he clapped his arm around me, as affectionate as ever; but on the instant he seemed to lose all of his hurry and purposefulness, and sauntered toward the warehouse with me as idly as though he had nothing on earth to do.

“I was wondering whether I’d see you,” he said; and as soon as he said it, I knew he had hoped he wouldn’t.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. “You were sent down the St. Lawrence, weren’t you?”

He laughed. “Always the same old Peter! Forever bound to treat me as if I was still twelve and you fifteen!”

“Look here,” I said. “The last thing I heard, you were sent to get information. Did you get it?”

“Of course I got it! There’s only eight hundred British troops at Three Rivers—men from Halifax regiments.”

While this news didn’t explain Nathaniel’s presence, it was welcome; for it meant the fine new regiments sent forward by Sullivan would drive eight hundred men down river as easily as driving a flock of yellow-legs.

“Have you told Arnold?” I asked.

“Not yet. Where is he?”

“Not yet! You haven’t told him yet? What in God’s name are you thinking about?”