… The timbers of the vessel we had shipped from St. John’s were stacked in two large piles close by; and between them was pitched a tent. In front of the tent stood Nathaniel, alone, still wearing his white Canadian jacket. We shouted and waved to him. He seemed to hesitate, and finally sauntered down to us.

I didn’t fully understand why, but a great weight lifted from my chest when I saw Ellen was not with him. He must, I thought, have sent her to Albany—to the friends of whom Marie de Sabrevois had talked so much.

Because of the general being with us, I had less than my usual greeting for him; and it seemed to me he eyed me with something of defiance. He was a fine figure of a soldier, tanned and handsome, wholly unlike those of us who had been battered by Chambly and Isle aux Noix.

Arnold, I could see, liked Nathaniel’s looks, but only nodded to him. To me he said: “I’ll be here one hour: no longer. Pick up another bateau—one that doesn’t leak, and see to it that the men are ready when I am.”

With that he set off toward the barracks, Wilkinson cat-footing along at his elbow. His back was no sooner turned than Cap Huff poked Nathaniel in the ribs and bawled: “Where’s your young lady? I got a present for her!”

Arnold wheeled. “Young lady? Has one of you been married?”

XXIII

WE STOOD in a sort of frozen silence.

Arnold came back, looking from one to the other of us. “I always like to know when one of my men gets married during a campaign. Which one of you was it?”

Cap Huff cleared his throat. “I said ‘young lady.’ I didn’t say ‘wife’! I wasn’t accusing nobody of being married! I wouldn’t do no such thing as that, General!”

Arnold ran his eye over us: then stabbed a finger at Nathaniel. “What’s all this evasion? Seemingly you’re about to be married to some young lady. Well, it’s no crime to be married. Some of the best men I know have had wives.”

“Yes sir,” Nathaniel said. “I mean No sir! This young lady and I, we’ve decided not to be married. There’s certain difficulties—that is to say—–”

“Oh, indeed!” Arnold said. “Let’s see about this! Where is this lady you aren’t going to marry?”

Nathaniel nodded toward the tent. “Yonder, sir.”

Arnold turned on his heel, contemptuously repeating, under his breath, “Certain difficulties! Certain difficulties!”

He marched into the tent, looked around: then popped through the back flap and disappeared. Nathaniel went in after him, and the rest of us skirted the tent to the open space behind it.