Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1897-11-05


had heard my history spat at me. l
could not blame her.
But two persons l hated Benedict
Arnold and the meddling hussy. l
thought 1 might kill him, and so, al
though l certainly should be hanged, l
should be lauded by my old comrades
as a hero after all these days of appar-
emily deserved contempt.
/ thought, perhaps, of the meddling
hussy at the stair head She had foiled
me, but in some curious way she equally
had made it impossible for me to kill
the man had the chance.
1t happened one evening at a point
near the Carolinian line.
/ broke away much as l had at Tap.
pan, but this time, knowing the coun-
try better than my pursuers, l managed
to elude them with less danger to my
skin.
As / was now walking my horse in
the direction Of the Congaree, where 1
supposed Major Harry to have been, ]
stumbled directly on one of his pickets.
The man brought me in, covering me
with his musket. And then suddenly he
recognized me.
Sergeant Major Champe, the desert
er!' he cried, at first incredulously and
then exultantly. God, what bird 1
have brought down."
Others by this time had gathered, and
then an officer, before whom a black
carried lantern, approached over the
half frozen ground. 1t was early March.
I 4
some chance l had fallen in with no
less a parsonage. major Leer' He
was then lieutenant colonel of the dra-
goons, though always major to me. }
Where are you?' he began, and
then leaping from his horse, he cried,
taking my hand in his
"Champev'
"Champe, who failed" 1 nodded,
shamefaced. The men stood about as
founded. For was l not deserter? The
major knew their thoughts
Sergeant Major John Champe is this
gentleman, who, like Captain Hale, to
serve his country took on the disguise
of spy among the British.
Then suddenly through that little de
tachment Of my old comrades a cheer
went up, and l believe that, after all
had imagined and suffered, this scene
in the Carolina swamp was the happiest
in my life
But how did you fail, MANI the
major asked when we rode to his main
division. Il really believed You would
carry it out We waited at Hobock I'M
til too late for any possible hope of your
appearance.
Because Of a meddling hussy,"
said, my heart bitter against her.
"A wench, Champe: 1 thought not
that of you %"
Eth, but you must, said l, and
told him the story.
"why she didn't betray you. 1 can t
understand it unless
"Unless?"
Unless she were in love with YOU, &"
said Major Lee
"Impossibler' said l. forgetting to
laugh. Why. of course it was absurd.
although l could not get the notion out
of my head.
At his headquarters, where nv old
comrades, who now knew the whole Of
my story, made much of my deed. al
though in faith it was failure enough,
the major told me he could not take me
back into my old company.
And why" 1 asked hotly. for l
thought that my failure to capture Ar
mold had discredited me with him
Because, Champe, 1 like you too
well TO have you risk capture by the
British, who, before the clock could
tick, would hang you as a spy"
told him cared not whit for the
danger; that l wanted to fight with all
the strength and wit had left after the
false part l had played.
Poor Champe" said he. How bad
ly have we treated you! But after all
You have done l will not suffer you TO
risk hair, he repeated.
When / was insistent, he said finally
that he had no option, but would refer
the matter to General Washington, by
whom directly was dispatched to Gen
eral Greene.
l confess l was anxious when came
into the presence of that Virginia gem
| tleman who now had become the great
est among AmeTlCdnA
''You did us a signal service Captain
Champe," he said kindly, lin letting
me know the extent of Arnold's treach-
cry when was uncertain of every one
about me, and it must appear ungra-
cious Of me 10 tell you that out of re-
gard for you and your most excellently
good service must retire yeu-but as
a captain, with a full captain pay"
did not want retirement. 1 cared
not for the new grade, nor the money,
though it was a scarce enough commod-
| ity in those days
But the general was insistent. And
in this way ceased to be an active
member of the army of the United
States In my forced retirement was
advanced in rank, yet captain without
hope of further service, at least against
the British, whom 1 dearly wanted to
fight IN some capacity-a captain with
out company.
Now, about this time 1 had a strange
letter brought through the lines from
New York and written by no less a per-
sonage than she who had spoiled nv
enterprise, Mistress Priscilla Warren.
She begged me never to give the British
the chance of catching me, for, as sure
ly as her name was Priscilla, they
would hang me up as spy. wrote her
/ hnA hnn kg,1l -