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Authors: David Garland

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BOOK: Valley Forge
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"Do you have anyone in mind, sir?"

"Where is Major Featherstone lodging?"

"I can't say."

"Then find out at once."

"Yes, general."

"And bring him here immediately," ordered Howe. "I need him."

The meeting with his friend had left Skoyles's emotions in turmoil. As he rode back to Philadelphia, he turned over their conversation in his mind and tried to justify what he had done. To maintain the confidence of General Washington and Major Clark, so that he could continue to act as a spy for the British, he had allowed a wanted man to go free. It was not an explanation that his superiors would readily accept, and he would have to adjust the facts before he reported to General Howe. He wished that he could have met Proudfoot in less fraught circumstances. Neither had taken any real pleasure from the encounter. Once again, Skoyles had been given an illustration of the merciless cruelty of war. True friendship could only exist with someone who fought on the same side.

There had been fleeting moments during his confrontation at Neale's Tavern when he had felt a surge of hatred against Proudfoot for using the deaths of British soldiers as the subject of a print to hearten the rebels. Yet that hatred was tempered by fond memories of earlier times together. When they had first met each other, Skoyles and Proudfoot had been lively youths with questing minds and clear ambitions. They were natural allies. Ironically, however, Skoyles had ended up killing Proudfoot's brother in a battle that his friend had duly celebrated with his art, immortalizing a famous American victory. It made for hopelessly confused loyalties.

When he reached the city, Skoyles was still not entirely persuaded that he had done the right thing. The capture of Ezekiel Proudfoot would have been a powerful blow to the rebel cause, but Skoyles could not bear the thought of being the person who handed his friend over to the hangman. There was another factor that had to be taken into account. Proudfoot had once helped Skoyles to evade execution. Before the battle of Bemis Heights, Skoyles had joined the Continental Army as a recruit so that he could assess the strengths and weaknesses of the enemy camp. Spotted by Proudfoot, he could easily have been strung up as a spy, but his friend had kindly given him the opportunity to get away before he reported to his commander that he had recognized a redcoat officer in the camp.

To return the favor, Skoyles had to give Proudfoot time to warn his printer so that both could flee Germantown. Instead of going straight to army headquarters, therefore, Skoyles intended to return to his lodging and rehearse the story that he would tell General Howe. As it was, he got no further than the street in which he was staying. No sooner did he turn into it than six redcoat
soldiers rushed to surround his horse and point their muskets up at him. Major Harry Featherstone strutted forward.

"I must ask you to surrender your weapons, Captain Skoyles," he said with a grim smile. "You are under arrest."

"On what charge?" demanded Skoyles in astonishment.

"Treason."

Elizabeth Rainham settled into a chair near the fire. Having enjoyed another shopping expedition with Lucy Tillman, she was glad to get back to the house for a rest. She was also concerned that her pregnant friend should not have too much exercise in her condition. After examining the various items that they had bought, the women turned to the subject that they most frequently discussed.

"Would you like the baby to be born in England?" asked Elizabeth.

"Of course," replied Lucy, "but the chances of that happening are very slim. Roderick may feel that the war will be over by spring, but that does not mean his regiment will be sent home. With my husband still in America, I'd never dream of going back to England."

"It would save you from making that dreadful voyage again."

"Yes, Elizabeth. I'm grateful for that."

"And they have excellent doctors here."

"Army surgeons can turn midwives, if necessary," said Lucy. "Look at Major Binyon's wife. Her twins were delivered in New York City by the regimental surgeon. Of course," she went on, "that's not a choice you'll have to make. If you wait until after the war before you marry, then your children will not come along until the army has left these shores. Have you talked with Captain Skoyles about raising a family?"

"Not yet, Lucy."

"It was the first thing that Roderick said when I accepted his proposal. Because he came from such a large family, he told me that he'd want at least four children."

"He might think differently if he had to give birth to them."

Lucy giggled. "That's true!"

"Besides," said Elizabeth, "I don't think that you can specify a number of children in advance. In the end, it comes down to luck how many times your
union is blessed. I know that my parents wanted more children, but they had to settle for two girls."

"They only have one now, Elizabeth."

"Yes, and I'm on the other side of the world."

"Do you ever think of your sister?"

"All the time."

"In some ways, it was a fortunate escape that she didn't have to marry Major Featherstone."

"I don't know that I'd describe Cora's death as fortunate," said Elizabeth reflectively, "but I take your point. She was spared any future disappointment. The mistake that I made was in trying to live her life for her. It was only when I got to know Jamie that I found the courage to be myself."

"You are very much your own woman now," said Lucy approvingly.

"Coming to America helped me to grow up."

"It changes all of us, Elizabeth."

"It transformed me."

"Are you happier now?"

"Much happier, Lucy. These last few weeks have been bliss."

"It's been the same for me. Since you came to the city, everything has become that bit more enjoyable. Only yesterday, Roderick was saying how pleased he was that we'd become such friends. He thinks that you're good for me."

Elizabeth smiled. "I'd hate to be seen as a bad influence."

"I think I'm bad enough already," said Lucy with a grin.

"Fiddlesticks! You're an essentially good person, and you know it."

"You haven't seen my darker side yet."

"I refuse to believe that you have one."

Elizabeth looked up as she saw someone pass the window, then stop to open the front door. After a few moments, Roderick Tillman came into the room. He gave his wife a token kiss on the cheek, then turned to Elizabeth. She saw the unease in his face.

"Is something the matter, Captain Tillman?" she asked.

"I sincerely hope not."

"You look troubled."

"I am, Miss Rainham—on your behalf."

"Whatever do you mean?" said Lucy with a note of admonition. "I'll not have you upsetting my best friend, Roderick."

"I have no choice," he said sadly. "When I first heard the gossip, I refused to believe it but, apparently, it's quite true."

"What is?" said Elizabeth.

"Captain Skoyles has been arrested. He may face a court-martial."

Jamie Skoyles was in great discomfort. It was humiliating enough to be interrogated by General Howe in the presence of four armed soldiers. To have Major Harry Featherstone there as well made the whole experience both embarrassing and excruciating. He had been taken unawares and was now in a dire situation. Under the pressure of stern questioning, Skoyles was struggling to maintain his composure.

"I expected better of you, Captain Skoyles," said Howe.

"That's more than I'd ever do," added Featherstone, "but, then, I know the captain of old. His loyalties have a habit of shifting."

"I resent that, Major," Skoyles asserted. "I've served the British army dutifully for several years, and I'll not let you—or anyone else, for that matter—impugn my honor."

"You've done that for yourself."

"Leave this to me, Major," said Howe.

Eyeing the prisoner with a mixture of hostility and dismay, the general was seated behind the table in his office at headquarters. Featherstone occupied a chair to his right, but Skoyles was kept standing. His sword and pistol had been confiscated. Feeling at a distinct disadvantage, he made a strong protest.

"Why was I brought here like this?" he demanded.

"Because those were my orders," replied Howe.

"Did the major have to be involved?"

"He's a crucial witness."

"To what, sir?"

"Your treachery," said Featherstone.

Skoyles was vehement. "I strongly deny that charge!"

"Then let us examine the reasons for making it," said Howe coolly. "It's not an accusation that should be leveled against anyone without firm evidence to back it up. In your case, I regret to say, we appear to have that evidence."

"Allow me the courtesy of defending myself, General."

"I will, Captain Skoyles."

"Am I being accused by you or the major?"

"By both of us," said Featherstone.

"That is so," confirmed Howe. "It's only by chance that someone from your own regiment is here in Philadelphia, but his arrival has made me view your conduct in a very different light. According to the major, you and the detestable Ezekiel Proudfoot have been friends for many years. Is that true?"

There was an awkward pause. "Yes, sir," Skoyles admitted.

"Then why did you tell Lieutenant Orde that you had only seen Proudfoot once—enough, however, for you to be certain that the man arrested in the name of Reece Allen could not possibly be Proudfoot."

"There's no proof that it was."

"I disagree," said Featherstone. "The description tallies almost exactly with what I know of the man, except that he had grown a beard since I last saw him."

"I suspect that you
wanted
it to be Ezekiel Proudfoot," said Skoyles roundly, "whereas, in fact, the description could have fitted dozens of other people. You never saw this Reece Allen, Major."

"Neither did you, yet you insisted he could not be Proudfoot."

"I thought it unlikely."

"You're evading the point here, Captain," said Howe. "You and this fellow are friends. In other words, you told Lieutenant Orde a deliberate lie. Is that correct?"

"I may have misled him slightly."

"A lie is a lie, sir!"

"There are degrees of dishonesty."

"Damn it, man. Don't you dare argue with me! You obviously don't realize how critical your situation is. If you can't give me satisfactory answers, you'll face a court-martial that will hold the power of life and death over you. Does that mean nothing, Captain Skoyles?"

"It means a great deal," said Skoyles with dignity, "and I fervently hope that it will not reach that stage. Let me explain my conduct."

"Treason can never be excused," said Featherstone.

"But reputations can be vindicated, major."

"At this juncture, you do not
have
a reputation."

"As usual, I'm sure that you've done your best to besmirch it."

  
"Enough of this!" snapped Howe. "I did not bring the two of you here to
trade insults. Honor is at stake, and there is nothing that a soldier holds more dear than that. Captain Skoyles has offered to explain his conduct. I suggest that you permit him to do so without interruption, Major Featherstone."

"Of course, General. I apologize."

"You may continue, Captain."

Skoyles needed a moment to gather his thoughts. He could see only too clearly how his actions could be misconstrued and knew that he had only himself to blame. When he had misled Lieutenant Orde about the possible identity of Reece Allen, he had reacted on impulse. He now sought to account for that impulse.

"Because I did not see the prisoner," he began, "I could not be sure if he was Ezekiel Proudfoot or not. In any case—and I ask you to bear this in mind—he was not released at my command. The lieutenant took that decision."

"Unfortunately," said Howe.

"Even if I had seen him, and even if I could identify him as Proudfoot, I'd still have recommended that he be released."

"Release my tormentor! That would have been lunacy."

"No, General. It would have ensured that I won complete respect at Valley Forge when the news reached there. You wanted a spy in their camp, but I was denied ready access to it. Major Clark, who is in charge of their intelligence, would not trust me until I'd proved myself. In helping Proudfoot to get away," argued Skoyles, "I'd be doing just that. You may have lost a prisoner but you would have gained far more in return. I would have been given the freedom of Valley Forge."

"It sounds to me as if you already have it," said Featherstone sourly. "You're working for the enemy, Captain Skoyles."

"That's not true."

"Supplying them with vital intelligence."

"I sought only to confuse them."

"Then why did they attack our most poorly defended camp this morning?" said Howe. "Did you know that it was almost overrun?"

"Yes, sir," said Skoyles, "I was there."

Howe gaped. "What? During the attack?"

"I arrived shortly after it began."

"Eager to see that his betrayal had borne fruit," said Featherstone.

"No," retorted Skoyles. "I went to visit a friend, Sergeant Caffrey."

"Is he a party to this conspiracy as well?"

"There
is
no conspiracy."

"Then why else were you there at that precise time?" said Howe.

"Tom Caffrey is a surgeon. When I was wounded recently," said Skoyles, using his left hand to touch his right shoulder, "he took care of me. I went to have the dressing changed." He began to undo his coat. "If you do not believe me, I'll show you the wound."

"That won't be necessary, Captain Skoyles."

"Then please stop accusing me of base motives."

"You compel me to do so," said Howe sharply. "Consider the facts. When I wished to give the Continental Army a bloody nose, I tried to entice them out of Valley Forge by telling them that one of our camps had inadequate troops and suspect fortifications. In fact, as we both know, I sent reinforcements there who lay in wait for a possible attack. But when that attack came," he continued harshly, "it was launched against the very camp from which those reinforcements were taken."

BOOK: Valley Forge
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