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Updated: June 21, 2025
He had only soft words and pity for her as if foreseeing the anguish and travail soon to be brought upon her by her husband's misdeeds but he spoke very slightingly and angrily of Sir John. To Schuyler's mind there was no good in him. "I have known him more or less since he was a boy and followed his father in the Lake George campaign.
One afternoon of pouring rain a two-horse, covered cab from Monte Carlo splashed in at the gate of Stellamare, turned noisily on the wet gravel, and stopped in front of Jim Schuyler's marble portico. There was luggage on the cab; and from the vehicle, with rain pelting on her head, descended a girl in a brown travelling dress.
I do not pass two men with their heads together but I feel they are talking of this." "Why should they? You have two other brothers-in-law here in camp Peter Bellinger and George Bell. You imagine a vain thing, Brigadier. Believe me, I have seen or heard no hint of this." "You would not. You are an officer of the line the only one here. Besides, you are Schuyler's man.
"Did you see anyone else?" "Only some of the servants. Mrs. Schuyler's own maid, her name is Tibbetts, is the sort you read about in English novels. A nice, motherly woman, with gray hair and a black silk apron. I liked her, but the maid who looks after the old sisters, I didn't like so well." "Never mind the maids, tell me more about Mrs. Schuyler. Does she think Vicky Van killed Mr. Schuyler?
"That's enough," said Lowney. "I've got his number. Now, Jepson, had your master any enemies, that you know of?" "Not that I know of. But I know nothing of Mr. Schuyler's affairs. I see him go out of an evening, and I may notice that he comes in very late, but as to his friends or enemies, I know nothing at all. I am not one to pry, sir, and my master has always trusted me.
"Schuyler's a fool!" he retorted, angrily. "Any landed proprietor here can become a rebel general in exchange for his estate! A fine bargain! A thrifty dicker! Let Philip Schuyler enjoy his brief reign in Albany. What's the market value of the glory he exchanged for his broad acres? Can you appraise it, Sir John?"
'Cause it's killin' me, an' I gotter get it over with. Well, all Mrs. Schuyler's things furnicher, I mean is big an' heavy an' massive, an' terrible expensive. Yes, I know her husband made her have it that way. But never mind that. Vicky Van's furnicher is all gay an' light an' pretty an' dainty colorin' and so forth.
Even I had heard of the amazing jealousies and intrigues which had made Schuyler's life miserable charges of incompetency, of indifference, of corruption nay, some wretched creatures who sought to push Gates into Schuyler's command even hinted at cowardice and treason.
If I should label them, the result would be something like this: Sketch of a footstool and desk where I first saw Miss Schuyler kneeling. Sketch of a carved-oak chair, Miss Schuyler sitting in it. "Angel Choir." Heads of Miss Schuyler introduced into the carving. Altar screen. Full length figure of Miss Schuyler holding lilies. Tomb of a bishop, where I tied Miss Schuyler's shoe.
But Sir John has a troop of his cut-throat horsemen picketed out around us. You see, Sir John broke his parole, and Walter Butler is attainted, and it might go hard with some of these gentlemen if General Schuyler's dragoons caught them here, plotting nose to nose." "Who is this Jack Mount?" I asked, curiously, remembering my companion of the Albany road.
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