I studied the list a moment, bending down closer to the nearest candle,
while rapidly reviewing in my own mind the duty required. I had no
thought of refusal, yet appreciated to the full the possible danger of
the venture, and felt anxious to make no serious mistake. I had achieved
a reputation for reckless daring, yet this kind of service was hardly to
my liking. To wear British uniform meant my condemnation as a spy, if
discovered, and a death of disgrace. I had been within the lines of the
enemy often before, but always as a scout, wearing the homespun of the
Maryland Line, but this was to be a masquerade, a juggling with chance. I
was not greatly afraid of being unmasked by the officers of the garrison,
but there were those then in Philadelphia who knew me--loyalists, secret
sympathizers with our cause, and not a few deserters from the army--whom
I might encounter at any turn in the road. The prospect was not alluring,
yet a glance aside at the profile of Washington, now bending low over a
mass of papers, instantly stiffened my resolve. It was work I had no
excuse to shirk--indeed no inclination--so I returned Hamilton's glance
of inquiry frankly.

"You wish me to go at once?"

[Illustration: "I studied the list a moment, bending down closer to the
nearest candle"]

"The earlier the better. I will furnish passports through our lines, and
hard riding will put you across the neutral ground by daylight."

"One moment, Major," interrupted Washington quietly. "You were doubtless
acquainted with our late Inspector-General?"