"I'm afraid we'll have to quit and go back to General Washington's camp."
"Don't you think that we've had rather an active night?" I asked.
"It's been a fair average night," he replied.
When the sun was well risen, we were riding into camp.
I was so sleepy and tired that I practically fell from my horse when we reached quarters; but I had slept only three or four hours when a messenger from General Washington himself came to me, bearing instructions for me to go to John Desmond's house in Philadelphia with ten armed men and bring what he would give. I was to show Mr. Desmond a sealed order which the messenger brought.
The armed men were waiting, and I rode at their head to John Desmond's house, wondering what the nature of my errand could be. Yet my ill-humor at being awakened so early had vanished when I found where I was to go. It was Mr. Desmond's residence, not his counting-house, and I found him in the parlor, where I gave him a note. He was not alone. He sat at one side of a wide table and on the other side was a man whom I knew to be a trusted aide of General Washington. Between them lay a heap of shining gold of English and French coinage, and they were counting it. It was a fine yellow heap, one of the most luscious sights that I had beheld in a long time, and my eyes lingered over it.
"It is this that you are to take," said Mr. Desmond, with a smile, and indicating the gold, when he had read my sealed order.
"For what is it?" I could not restrain myself from asking.
"For the cause," he replied. "It is the contribution of some of Philadelphia's merchants and bankers to the Continental army. They have awaited this opportunity a long time."
I suspected that his own contribution was the largest of all, and such I afterwards found to be the truth.
"It is well to be exact," continued Mr. Desmond, "and so we are counting it in order that Captain Reade here may give us a receipt for the exact amount. It will take us more than a half hour yet to finish the task, and you might walk into the garden while you are waiting."
He indicated the way, and going into the garden I found Mary Desmond there. She wore June roses on her shoulder, their pink and red gleaming against her white dress, and her face was bright. The charm of her eyes did not depart in the daylight.