The Heavens Shall Fall (31 page)

“
My anger boils at the mention that Andre was caught by a bunch of ruffians. That he should be released because they wanted only to steal from him. Did they not turn down his bribery because they found the papers?”

“
My emotions roil,” Washington said in an abrupt fashion. He halted momentarily and cleared his throat. “I hold to the evidence at hand. Moreover, the British would not have hesitated to carry out their plans had they been successful. Their intent was to capture West Point, along with myself, to end the war.”

“
But their plan has been foiled, has it not?”

“
The cause still lives because of men such as yourself.” Washington nodded and looked straight at Jonathan. “Tallmadge told me of the service that you have done your country. You understand that the information that sent you here was obtained by our intelligence. It can never be revealed.

“
I sent for you to thank you, but I cannot do so formally. The anger of the British will be felt by many after this trial. I do not want it directed at you or your family. Major Andre will hang as a spy unless the British hand over Arnold. I feel Major Andre is more unfortunate than criminal, but there is no other recourse for this crime.”

The words sobered Jonathan. There was nothing more to be said. He thanked General Washington and withdrew.

* * * *

In his full regimental uniform, Marcus sat across from a shorter, stockier American officer, General Nathaniel Greene. From the man
’s reputation, he had become one of Washington’s most trusted advisors. A former Quaker, he had moved up the ranks quickly, one of Washington’s youngest generals.

The air held a solemn quality
, given the serious nature of their meeting. A stay of execution had been granted to give time for further negotiations. They were not proceeding in favor of halting the sentence given to Major Andre.

General Clinton had requested this assembly at Sneden
’s Landing. Marcus led the British contingent, having been directed to do all in his power to have Major Andre released.

“
General Durham, I believe we have ample grounds for the verdict at hand. On his own admission, Major Andre entered into our lines under an assumed name and disguise. Furthermore, he was found with concealed papers.”

“
Major Andre came upon orders by his commanding officer, General Henry Clinton, under a flag of truce from your then General Benedict Arnold. By the rules of war, Major Andre should forthwith be released back into the command of General Clinton.”

“
It is regrettable, General Durham, that the evidence does not support that Major Andre came under a flag of truce. There was no flag flown on his boat at his arrival off the
Vulture.
Then he met with General Arnold in a private and secret manner. When he could not return to the
Vulture
, he followed the path, where he was arrested with the papers that contain intelligences of our defenses.”

Marcus stared down at his hands. Never had he felt so utterly helpless. Guilt wrenched at him. He should have insisted that he had gone with Andre. By God, could they not understand that Andre had no intention of trudging the roads along the Highland! It was circumstances that dictate
d his unfortunate situation!

Marcus lifted his head. With the realization they had no other recourse, he said,
“Then it seems we need to proceed to see if an exchange can be arranged.”

“
General Durham, General Washington is anxious to do so. He has no desire to execute Major Andre. It would be done only with the utmost regret, but the crime demands punishment.”

“
I am prepared to make an exchange. Name who you want.”

“
General Washington wants only one. Benedict Arnold,” General Greene said in a firm and steady voice.

“
It is the only one that we cannot exchange.”

Marcus choked on the words. He wanted nothing more than to throw the traitor back at the Americans to do with him what they willed. The man
’s value now was useless. Compared to Andre, there was none! But duty and honor dictated differently.

“
Then as much as it pains me, General Durham, I see no recourse. Major Andre’s execution has been set for tomorrow at noon.”

General Greene closed the formalities. It was done. Disappointment…sadness…filled Marcus.

Marcus paused. He could not leave without one more attempt. He walked back over to Greene.

“
General Greene, I plead with you once more to reconsider. He is one who not only do I hold in the highest regard, but General Clinton. I want you to understand fully the ramifications of your actions.”

“
State exactly what you mean,” Greene said stiffly.

“
I believe you understand my meaning. We hold many distinguished American prisoners. Gadsden in Carolina. John Laurens. The anguish General Clinton feels could erupt. Do I need to tell you that he will lash out strongly against anyone we find connected to this injustice? There will be no sympathy or mercy.”

In an oppressive silence, Greene
’s eyes met his coldly. At last he stated, “The proceedings have come to an end. There is no need to say more. I believe we do understand each other quite well. Good day, General Durham.”

* * * *

The unthinkable was about to become reality for the dashing English major, the darling of His Majesty’s Army. Over the night, Andre had become resolved to his fate. Only a week before, he had been so confident his plight would have ended differently.

He had risked it all—life, fortune, and reputation. The prize had been snatched from his grasp. He would not be saved.

Never had he suspected his fate entwined with the American spy, Nathan Hale. Colonel Tallmadge had been the first to suggest it to be so, calling his attention to the story of the ill-fated spy at the beginning of the war.

Surely, the Americans hadn
’t thought his case similar to Hale’s. But they had.

His character demanded he hold to the honor of his position. When he had been given the hour of his execution, he lost all hope. There would be no more appeals.

He fixed his mind firm; he would not disgrace his commander or king and would face his fate bravely. The night before was spent with letters written and assurances they would be delivered; he left only one aspect of his life undone. Susanna.

He feared her fate lay entwined with his
, for his suspicions had been founded. When he saw Corbett, he understood clearly the Americans suspected his activity with Arnold. He could not let the action go untold.

Knowing his letters
would be read, he had no alternative but to express his opinions to his loyal servant who had been allowed to come from New York to see to his needs. He hated to be so devious but he had no other recourse. He had faith in Clinton that the leaks would be addressed. He had faith in Durham that he would handle his child in the same fashion he had looked after his son.

The time was at hand. Dressed in his red regimental coat with green facing, he readied himself. He walked proudly in the middle of a large detachment of troops. He heard the death march played by the fife and drum corps, striking at the core of his being.

He recoiled only when he saw the gallows. His request to be shot had been denied. He was to be hung.

Jonathan, mounted beside his friend of old, General John Glover, watched Andre step up onto the wagon at full height and dignity, and place the noose around his own neck. He turned and faced the great crowd of spectators that had gathered to watch him die.

“
I have nothing more to say gentlemen, but this…you all bear witness that I met my fate as a brave man.”

The cart beneath the
major was removed. Jonathan’s thoughts turned to his father and brother. Years had passed and still the pain was there.

Jonathan stared in silence. He was tired of death. He said a prayer, bridled his horse, and left the sad sight.

“If there must be trouble, let it be in my day, that my child may have peace.” ~ Tom Paine

The low-lying fire burnt down to its last ember, but Marcus doubted even if it was rekindled there would be warmth in the room. Not encircled with the melancholy Andre’s death had spawned.

The silence was deafening. General Clinton could find no comfort. He had lost one of his most promising of officers, one he thought of as a son and confidant.

Marcus waited for his orders. He was needed back in Charles Town, having returned to New York only to finalize the details of Arnold’s defection. It was supposed to have been a time of monumental glory.

The grandfather
clock in the foyer chimed eleven o’clock. Time ebbed onward into the night. There would be no sleep. Marcus knew the general well enough to realize that Clinton was about to wage war on not only the Americans, but everyone all about him.

“
The Americans have refused my request for Major Andre’s body to be returned to us…,” Clinton choked on the words. “This will be avenged. Mark my words, those who are responsible will be held accountable.”

“
Even as we speak, General Clinton, our men are rounding up all on the list that I have overseen.”

“
Everyone, Durham?”

“
Without question, sir,” Marcus responded. In Clinton’s tone, he heard the accusations that he thought but had not said. It did not sit well with Marcus. He pressed, “Is there more? I’m detecting that perhaps you believe I failed.”

“
Did you not? I sent you to negotiate his release. According to our legal counsel, the Americans went against the rules of war. You should have saved him!”

Clinton
’s voice carried the rage inside him. Suddenly, Marcus saw tears stream down Clinton’s cheeks. He turned from Marcus for a time.

“
Sir, with all due respect, I hold no doubt that we are in far worse shape for this blasted attempt. The only thing that could have saved Andre was giving the Americans Arnold, which as
you
held, would have gone against the rules of conflict.”

Silence ensued. Clinton turned back around and frowned sadly.
“You, sir, have always succeeded at the task you hold dear. Need I remind you of your affair with a woman of questionable loyalties. The son you claim or the arrangement you made in Charles Town…one that seems to have cost us dearly!”

Indignant, Marcus rose. His chest heaved heavily.
“Do not question my honor and duty to my country or king, General Clinton.”

“
I do, General Durham. I do question whether you let jealousy for Andre and the glory that was due to him interfere with our mission!”

“
You forget yourself, General
.
You have no right to utter those words. I taught Andre. He was and will always be a man I hold in deep esteem!”

“
It is you who forgets yourself,” Clinton said with a hateful stare. “There will be no more mercy shown to any connected to any leaks of intelligence, now or in the past. The arrangement Andre made with the Americans concerning the Corbett woman is no more.”

“
You cannot believe that she—”

“
I know only what Andre’s servant conveyed to us. Dr. Corbett’s presence ensured Andre’s arrest.”

“
Our own intelligence has said only that Dr. Corbett visited his sister and was looking for an assignment away from the South. It could have been only a coincidence.”

“
Come, Durham. You and I both don’t believe in coincidences. Andre sent us the message for a reason. You know well what needs to be done.”

A lengthy pause followed.
Marcus’ face hardened. Understanding his orders, he bowed and left the chamber.

* * * *

Susanna clutched her stomach. It was the only thing real to her, the child. Not the fact that Andre was dead. No, that she could not accept. It had never been her intention to see harm befall Andre. In truth, the thought had never occurred to her.

Andre had been larger than life, bent on changing the world. Invincible. But he had not been. She could not dismiss the feeling he had died because of her. She had killed the father of her unborn child.

How could he have crossed the line! Moreover, changed out of his uniform! It was not how it was supposed to have happened.

She touched the necklace she wore around her neck, not knowing exactly why. It had been a bribe from Andre when he had returned to her bed. He simply dismissed their quarrel, but not the guards around her.

She had known that she had had an escort on any venture she made from that day forward, even though the official house arrest had been lifted. Andre had lost his trust in her, but not his desire.

Andre
’s last night in New York had been in her arms; he never mentioned he was to be gone. There had been no ill omen to foretell his fate. There had been no mention of the child she carried. No plans had been made.

He had pressed her to wait before any arrangements were to be made about their future. His spirits had been so high, so full of promise that she had
given no thought when he had left in the wee hours of the morning.

Only now the question arose of her own fate and of her unborn child
...for her home had been invaded by a sentry of Redcoats led by General Marcus Durham.

“I have not done anything to harm Andre.”

S
usanna sweated profusely. She took a deep breath. The never-ending questions bombarded her from all sides. She had long since lost track of time. It had become irrelevant.

Nothing had stopped their inquisition. She had fainted,
pled illness…cried. They waited only until it passed and began again. Lieutenant Bradford had been relentless upon her, but it was the one who had once been her friend who scared her the most.

Marcus stood in the corner
and watched, said nothing. Today, he was her adversary. There would be no mercy upon her.

She cradled
her head in her hands and ignored the ranting about her. She withdrew far away from the activity encircling her. She had to think…had to convince them she was being used as a scapegoat.

Rupert
’s words echoed within her.
I can be no help if caught. There is too much that depends upon us.
There would be no help. She was alone.

“
Susanna.”

She looked up. Marcus had moved across the room and sat across from her. She rubbed her tired, swollen eyes. His features had lost a little of their hostility, but she did not answer him.

“Susanna, I need you to tell the truth. It will do you no good to deny to us any longer.”

“
I don’t know what you want me to say. You cannot believe that I wished Andre harm. My heart broke upon the news of his demise!” She gripped her stomach. “I carry his child.”

“
I don’t believe it was your intent to do him harm. I believe you were tricked.”

His words were said softly, but the underlying meaning behind them carried an intensity that couldn
’t be denied. Panic surged within her over the awareness that she was about to feel the wrath of the British.

“
Tricked? By whom? Andre?” She concealed little of the fear she felt. “If it is honesty you want, I remind you it was not I who seduced Andre. I can assure you it was he.”

“
That is not what is in question, Susanna.” Marcus uttered a long, sad sigh. “I have wasted all the time I will on being patient. It is brutal truth you need to hear at the moment. You are in a precarious position.”

“
Meaning nothing I say will convince you of my innocence. My child and I are condemned.”

“
Your child is safe.”

The words slapped her harder than if he had used his hands to deliver the blow. Her blue eyes welled with tears on the understanding of the meaning.

“I am not,” she said, not as a question, but a fate she could not evade.

“
This is what I can offer you. Comfort for the months you are in confinement and a caring home for the babe after it is delivered.”

Silent tears streamed down her face.
“Why?” She struggled for words. “Why are you seeking revenge upon me?”

“
Some would say it is justice,” Marcus said stoically. “Come, Susanna. It will be easier if you confess. We know that you delivered letters stolen from Stansbury…”

“
No,” she whispered in a feeble voice. “I told Andre what had happened. He believed me. I had nothing…”

Marcus shook his head.
“No, he didn’t believe you. He thought only it did not bring harm to his mission. You confessed to him that you held the letters.”

“
But I burnt them. Burnt them…”

“
Come, Susanna, did you not think that Andre checked the open fire when he found you that night leaving? There were no ashes of papers found. It left only one avenue for you to deliver your prize. We found it this afternoon.”

Marcus gestured for one of the sentries to open the door. She saw a deep scowl embedded in his expression as a guard brought in a wooden container covered with fresh dirt. Her heart leaped in her throat at the sight
. She stared expressionless at the dirty box.

“
We dug up your first husband’s grave. The one you were found to have gone to after the letters disappeared. Are you surprised we found the box used to correspond back and forth with your network, Susanna?”

Stunned, she sat in disbelief. Her ears rang; eyes blurred. The damn British had dug up Walter…Walter. A sudden remembrance came to her of his face, his beautiful face…the one that had faded over time. It gave to her strength.

In the far recess of her mind, she heard Marcus recite one after another suspicion they held against her. It matter little how many they rattled off. She comprehended they needed but one to condemn her…they had already done so. It was the end.

Suddenly, she realized she was surrounded by silence.
She kept her head lowered, and whispered, “If you have already decided my fate, what then do you need from me?”

“
Your connections, Susanna. Make it easier upon yourself. Tell us what we need to know.”

She laughed a loud scornful laugh.
“You are mad.”

“
Perhaps,” he said. “But you need to think of your child. You may feel that since it is Andre’s, that its future is set, but there you are wrong. No one will ever know the child is his. General Clinton will see to that.

“
He finds no pride in an infant whose mother betrayed his father, his country and his king. General Clinton will see that no blemish is upon his golden son and this,” Marcus pointed to her, “would be a blemish.”

“
But you said that my child was safe.”

“
I will see to it, Susanna, if you tell me what we need to know,” he pressed. “Tell me everything.”

A sudden chill
filled the air. She shivered, even as her eyes flared at her enemy. For that was what he was. She had forgotten, living in the midst of the British.

Within her surface
d a passion she had not felt in years. Passion for a cause. She thought of Walter, Hannah, and Rupert…a chance for the life within her to live.

She sensed what he wanted to know and she knew what she must say.

* * * *

Change was in the air. All about him, Rupert perceived the uncertainty. The British had been relentless in their pursuit of anyone connected to the Americans with their concept of swift and moral justice.

Since Andre’s death, he had withdrawn from New York, away from the chaos. He dared not stay. Rumors abounded that Clinton had sunk into depression, which allowed the new British officer Benedict Arnold freedom to inflict his brand of revenge on anyone he blamed for the botched operation. He showed no mercy.

Arnold blamed the leak upon the British. The prison ships overflowed with Arnold
’s victims in his attempt to vindicate himself of any blame. Clinton had turned a blind eye.

The British had been stung by their loss. Arnold
’s treachery had brought them nothing but the arrogant man himself. The Americans, instead of following after Arnold as he believed they would, rallied behind their hatred of the traitor with growing intensity.

Since the network had begun, Rupert had not been to his family
’s estate in Setauket. He had long ago deemed it safer for his family and the network if he stayed in New York, but after the last couple of weeks, he needed an escape: not from the British, but from himself.

The days after Andre
’s capture, Rupert lived in fear. The network had been successful, but now the danger was at its greatest. The British had to have realized their plot had been discovered.

Never had maintaining a semblance of normalcy been so important. Every move, every breath he took was under suspicion. Everyone within the British circle was...