"Why not march out, bands playing?" suggested Sir Peter gaily.
"By God, we may do that yet to the tune they choose for us!" blurted out Sir Henry.
"I meant an assault," said Sir Peter, the smile fading from his handsome face.
"I know what you meant," returned Sir Henry wearily. "But that is what they wish. I haven't the men, gentlemen."
There was a silence. He stood there, swaying slowly to and fro on his polished heels, buried in reflection; but I, who stood a little to one side, could see his fingers clasped loosely behind his back, nervously working and picking at one another.
"What do they expect?" he said suddenly, lifting his head but looking at no one--"what do they expect of me in England? I have not twelve thousand effectives, and of these not nine thousand fit for duty. They have eleven thousand, counting the French, not a dozen miles north of us. Suppose I attack? Suppose I beat them? They have but a mile to fall back, and they are stronger posted than before. I can not pass the Harlem with any chance of remaining, unless I leave here in New York a garrison of at least six thousand regulars. This gives me but three thousand regulars for a sortie." He moved his head slowly, his eyes traveled from one to another with that heavy, dazed expression which saw nothing.
"Thirty thousand men could not now force Fordham Heights--and but a single bridge left across the Harlem. To boat it means to be beaten in detail. I tell you, gentlemen, that the only chance I might have in an attempt upon any part of Washington's army must be if he advances. In formal council, Generals Kniphausen, Birch, and Robertson sustain me; and, believing I am right, I am prepared to suffer injustice and calumny in silence from my detractors here in New York and at home."
His heavy eyes hardened; a flash lighted them, and he turned to Sir Peter, adding: "I have listened to a very strange proposition from the gentleman you presented to me, Sir Peter. His ideas of civilized warfare and mine do not run in like channels."
"So I should imagine," replied Sir Peter dryly. "But he is my guest, and at his pressing solicitation I went with him to wait upon you."
Sir Henry smiled, for Sir Peter had spoken very distinctly, though without heat.
"My dear friend," said the general gently, "are you to blame for the violent views of this gentleman who so--ah--distinguished himself at Cherry Valley?"
A sour grimace stamped the visage of every officer present; the name of Cherry Valley was not pleasant to New York ears.