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Updated: May 16, 2025
From the tenor of the last communication from Champe, no doubt was entertained of the success of the enterprise. The party from the American camp reached Hoboken about midnight, where they were concealed in the adjoining wood Lee, with three dragoons, stationing himself near the river shore. Hour after hour passed. No boat approached.
"Not all the way," replied Betty, slowly. "Who was with you? Champe?" "No, not Champe Dan," said Betty, stooping to unfasten her boots. Virginia was pinning a red verbena in her hair, and she turned to catch a side view of her face. "Do you know I really believe Dan likes you best," she carelessly remarked.
Take 'em off!" yelled the chorus, as his spurs rang on the stones. "My gal she wants 'em take 'em off!" "Take those tatters off your backs take 'em off!" responded Champe, genial and undismayed, swinging easily along in his worn gray uniform, his black plume curling over his soft felt hat.
There they found Virginia and the young men, who had ridden over ahead of them, hanging evergreens for the approaching party. Jack Morson, from the top of the step-ladder, was suspending a holly wreath above the door, while Champe was entwining the mahogany balustrade in running cedar.
"Would you care as much for me, I wonder?" She smiled up at him and shook her head. "No, I shouldn't, Champe," she answered honestly. He turned his gaze away from her, and looked through the dim old window panes out upon the clustered elm boughs. "Well, I'll do this much," he said in a cheerful voice. "I'll ride to the tavern this morning and find out how the land lies there.
From the moment of his enlistment into Arnold's corps, Champe had every opportunity he could desire for watching the habits of that individual. He discovered that it was his custom to return home about twelve every night, and that, previous to going to bed, he generally walked in his garden. During this visit, the conspirators were to seize him, gag him, and carry him across the river.
All the deeper knowledge, which he had bought with his youth for the price, had passed over his cousin like the clouds, leaving him merely gay and kind as he had been of old. "Hello, Beau!" called Champe, stretching out his hand as he drew near. "I just heard you were over here, so I thought I'd take a look. How goes the war?" Dan refilled his pipe and borrowed a light from Pinetop.
As Dan watched him, standing in the doorway, he felt, with a sudden melancholy, that a mental gulf had yawned between them. The last grim months which had aged him with experiences as with years, had left Champe apparently unchanged.
The painful sentence was executed on the subsequent day, in the usual form, the commander-in-chief deeming it improper to interpose any delay. In this decision he was warranted by the unpromising intelligence received from Champe by the still existing implication of other officers in Arnold's conspiracy by a due regard to public opinion, and by the inexorable necessity of a severe example.
Had their intentions but been known, this inferential invitation would have been most welcome. It was but to rise up and thunder out, "We came to call on the young ladies." They did not rise. They did not thunder out anything. Babe brought a lamp and set it inside the window, and Mr. Claiborne resumed his reading. Champe giggled and said that Alicia made her.
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