“Gennle,” Zelph said, “they’s twict as much in this lobscouse as ever I got into the same size lobscouse before. They’s some ducks and some pigs’ feet an’ a big snapper turkle, biggern your hat, Gennle, an’ a pecker potatoes, an’ a mess ship braid all busted up. Yow!”

“Don’t keep that lobscouse out here in this cold wind!” the general said sharply. “Get below with it!” To me he added, “After all, I won’t need my clothes and papers. They’re better off in the Royal Savage, where there’s a cabin to stow ’em. Now I’m here, I might as well stay.”

I think we looked surprised at this decision; for he laughed. “Come, come! Once the wind changes, the British’ll be down on our necks. We don’t want to lose a minute getting at that lobscouse!”

In the cabin, warmed by a plate of lobscouse and a tumbler of rum, the general told us some things that opened my eyes. I’d known he was a better leader than any officer in our army; but now it dawned on me that he was something more. He was a great man—a great captain, in whom burned a flame of genius: a flame that fevered and provoked the brains of small, mean men, filling them with envy and malice. This is something I cannot explain: all I can say is that those who admired him and recognized his worth were generous gentlemen—Washington, Schuyler, Joseph Warren, Silas Deane; whereas those who hated him with undying bitterness were human shrimps—Easton, Wilkinson, Wynkoop, Hazen, Bedel and others of whom I shall speak in due course.

When he had been talking to us and we to him for a time after finishing the lobscouse, he put his fists on the table and stared at us.

“Well,” he said, “I guess it isn’t necessary to feed you any pap. You’ve been through the mill, and don’t have to be babied. I think I can do you the compliment of telling you the truth.”

Cap Huff looked concerned. “It ain’t nothing serious, is it, General? We ain’t going to get our pay or nothing like that, are we?”

“Certainly not!” Arnold said. “All available money had to be paid to the militia and ship carpenters. You don’t think there’d be anything left over for such as you, do you? You’re supposed to fight: not to go around whining for pay! You ought to know it’s the loud talkers and the light workers that get paid for wars: not the fighters.”