The Golden Flask (18 page)

Wherein,
Jake and Alison exchange pleasantries with a
most notorious Tory
.

I
t would please the
reader, no doubt, to hear the Tory
and his English brother-in-law described as carbuncled
monsters, with hair tangled into snake tails and eyes the shape of melons squashed by winter's chills.

Such was not the case. The men who stood barring
the entrance to the room were both handsome and well built, not quite as tall as Jake, though still of more than
average height. They were naturally well dressed in the
latest London fashions; it was impossible to tell from
their suits which man had recently come from England
and which had spent nearly his whole adult life in
America. Indeed, even their features were somewhat
similar, with high eyebrows, smallish noses and chins
that might have been cut from wood blocks.

The scowl on Clayton Bauer's face was quite distinctive, however. It led him through the room with the
ferociousness of a boar rousted from a lair.

"What nonsense are you talking, Patricia? Going across the lines to the rebels?"

"I've just been trying to talk her out of it, sir," said Jake, standing.

"And who the devil are you? Announce yourself, man."

Jake wondered if Bauer might recognize him. They
had been introduced once before, but fortunately he had been disguised at the time. Still, Jake's recent adventures might have spread his true description around, and it would not have to travel far to reach Bauer.

"Jake Stone is my name."

"Search him. And the boy."

"That won't be necessary," said Jake, Washington's pass burning a hole in his side. He reached into his belt and pulled out the Segallas, handing it to Bauer for his inspection. "This is the only weapon I carried when I escaped from Jersey. Unfortunately, it is fouled. Excuse me, Lady Patricia." Jake turned and undid his shirt to open the money belt's pouch and remove the forged letter from Franklin. "I am assigned to General Bacon. The boy is the son of another agent. He died, unfortunately, on the opposite shore, and I did not think it just to leave the lad to the mercies of the rebels. They nearly killed us in any event as we made our escape."

Bauer, who fairly winced at the mention of Bacon, grabbed the letter and read it skeptically. "This is from William Franklin, and says nothing."

"What do you wish it to say?" Jake shot back. "Should it invite General Washington to hang me?"

"Mister
Washington," answered Bauer. The insult was a common one.

Jake ignored it, taking the letter back. "I thank you for your hospitality; General Bacon will no doubt be pleased."

Jake had not chosen the name idly. Bauer and Bacon were more rivals than allies and scarce exchanged pleasantries, much less information or agents. It might even occur to Bauer that Jake had been sent here by Bacon to spy on him.

On the other hand, an agent of Bacon's would know he could find at least shelter here. Bacon would be expected to provide the same to one of Bauer's men, and had done so recently.

The Tory made a motion, and the redcoat who had clamped a hand on Alison's shoulder — a very dangerous hand, given its proximity to her chest — immediately withdrew to the side of the room.

"You look familiar," Bauer said to Jake.

"I have a cousin who lives in this city," he answered. Jake gave a sign with his head to Alison that she should
follow him out the door, but when he turned to go, he
found the way blocked by Bauer's arm.

"Stay and finish your tea."

"Coffee," said Lady Patricia. "He is allergic to tea."

"You sound more and more like a rebel, sir."

"I know from personal experience that most rebels drink tea, given the choice," said Jake. He was indeed
correct.

Lord William Buckmaster had lost interest in Jake. Going to his wife, he stroked her arm gently. "What is this about your going to Washington, dear?" he asked.
Jake discerned in his manner a timid, almost wincing
approach to life that confirmed the hints his wife had
made. His peerage had been inherited indeed.

"If it will get us news about Thomas, I would go to the devil himself."

"An apt metaphor," spat Bauer.

Jake thought it wise to let the fresh insult to Wash
ington pass. He gripped Alison's arm tightly, in case she had a different opinion, and once again started toward the door.

"We haven't been able to get information any other
way," said Lady Patricia, tears welling in her eyes.
"You were turned away again this morning, I can tell.
Why else would you have returned so soon?"

"We were not turned away," said Bauer. "There was
simply no one to receive us, as I predicted. Sir William's staff has all gone with him to the ships. The
adjunct general and the city administration were very
sympathetic."

"But of no use."

"Patricia, don't fret now." Bauer took her arm as gently as her husband had. His voice, too, had softened; clearly he doted on his younger sister. "We will call on William's cousin tonight and take him with us to the theater. There's an old Farquhar comedy; it will be a diversion. And if the engineering office can help us in any way, its entire resources will be thrown open to us."

"But he is just a child."

"They may have contacts that will be useful to us. Believe me; they have done work for me before. In any event, you deserve to take your mind off your son tonight. The theater here is quite good, despite what you've heard in London."

Lady Patricia ignored him, turning instead to Jake. "You are with General Bacon's staff. Cannot you help us?"

"I am not with his staff, merely in his service," said Jake. "I am afraid that I would not even recognize the general if I fell over him. You probably know better than I where he is."

Bauer scowled, returning to the business at hand. "And where have you escaped from? Why did you swim across the river to my house?"

"I did not swim across the river. Our boat was fired on. Only luck brought us here. Lady Patricia found us on the beach."

"Like drowned rats," she said.

"I thought Sir Henry used only Englishmen. Your accent seems native."

Jake shrugged. "There I cannot enlighten you. I have already said too much."

"If you worked for me, I would have you flogged for giving yourself away so easily. A rebel could win news of your entire mission in an hour."

"Come, Clayton, you are being much too harsh with the man," said Lord Buckmaster. "He is your guest."

"You are not used to the habits of our shores or this war, brother," said Bauer. "Please allow me to do my business, as I would allow you to do yours."

His lordship took the rebuke mildly.

"Come, Al, it is time for us to leave," said Jake, pulling her hand.

"Yes, father."

"You needn't call me father anymore."

"He, at least, knows the business," remarked Bauer.

Jake grimaced. "We will have someone return your
clothes tomorrow. I thank you most kindly for them."

He bowed to Lord and Lady Buckmaster before
aiming for the door. The redcoat guards gave Bauer a
glance, and for a moment Jake feared he was going to
order them to carry out the forgotten search, if only to
show that Bacon's agents were not above his own.

But he said nothing. Jake was able to guide Alison
swiftly from the room to the front door without further
interruption.

"Was that close?"

"Very."

Jake and Alison had by now walked a half-mile from
the mansion, entering upon Bloomingdale Road. The city was still a long way south.

"I could not tell from your face that we were ever in
danger," said Alison. "You must be a very good liar."

"I assume that was meant as a compliment." Jake
stopped and retrieved Washington's pass from his belt. Making sure no one was nearby, he ripped it to shreds
and then kicked a few pieces into holes he dug with the
heel of his borrowed shoe. He fluttered a few others in
small bits on the opposite side of the road, and scattered the rest near a tree trunk.

"
Washington's letter!" exclaimed Alison.

"
Had they found it, we would be guests of honor at a gibbet party," said Jake. "Come on now, do you feel up
to running? I'd like to put some more distance between
us and our late hosts."

"I can run as fast as you, I reckon," said Alison, dashing ahead.

They ran a good distance together, Jake trying to
show her by his example that she must pace herself like
a horse, aiming for a long stride and gradual progress. She was strong, there was no question about it, and energetic no matter her sex. They managed nearly a mile before losing their wind, and she did not tire until Jake did.

"Tell me about General Washington," said Alison as they sat to rest on the side of the road. "What is he like?"

"As tall as me, but much older."

"That isn't much of a description."

"He has white hair and a square face."

"But what is he like? How does he talk? How does he lead his men?"

"That is hard to say. He is like a father to us. One moment he seems kindly and gentle, the next hard and aloof. He is always pushing himself forward and cheering us."

"But I have heard —"

Jake jerked his elbow into her side to quiet her as he spotted the black helmets of British grenadiers just rounding the bend ahead. The patriots resumed walking at once, Alison grabbing her side with some discomfort.

The British soldiers took no notice of them.

"Why did you hit me?" she asked when they were once more alone.

"They would have seen if I had grabbed your mouth. You talk too loud."

"Ha! Listen to yourself."

"Come now, we are not in the clear. Remember where we are."

They proceeded mostly in silence the rest of the way to New York, passing through various patches of British encampments, many empty. Though he knew there would be considerable men at King's Bridge, and more on Long Island, Jake wondered if an attempt to regain the city might not be profitable. Its proximity to the water meant it could easily be reinforced by the British
;
still, there was great value in striking a blow to the enemy's morale.

These and similar thoughts occupied the patriot spy as he headed toward Rivington's coffeehouse at the
very heart of what was now the Loyalist capital. As for
Alison, it was obvious that she had never been in the city. She stared with wide-eyed awe at the large and
grand buildings as they appeared, most especially the English church, whose walls stood with careful grace
above the adjoining mall, despite the congregation's politics. The gardens, too, had been tended despite the war, and the melange of colors and smells both pleas
ing and noxious nearly made the girl faint.