Sophia's War by Avi Read Free Book Online Page A

“Who is he?”
    â€œOur general who captured Montreal, as well as Fort Ticonderoga, and then kept your navy in check on that northern lake.”
    â€œI assure you, Miss Calderwood,” André replied in perfect humor, “I don’t know who this Arnold fellow is, but we shall prevail.”
    I said no more. Though I would not admit it to anyone, I worried that he was right.
    That night, however, he did say one other thing to me. We were alone in the common room. He had been playing his flute, and I was listening with appreciation. When he’d finished, I complimented him on his playing.
    â€œI’m much obliged,” he told me. “But, Miss Calderwood, may I be frank with you?”
    My heart fluttered. “You may.”
    â€œYou spoke of your admiration of that rebel general. ‘ Our general,’ you said.”
    It took me a moment to catch his drift. “Arnold?”
    â€œHis name does not signify. I know you spoke with badinage, but I should advise you, such talk is taken seriously by my superiors. Respect for traitors is a grave matter. You must not, Miss Calderwood, let even one taint of this rebellion stain you. It could cause you and your family much harm.”
    I felt myself go red in the face. Yet I took his warning to heart and was doubly relieved that we had said nothing about William. At the same time, the lieutenant’s thoughtful caution made me admire him only more. Was he not protecting me?
    I wanted to keep my heart locked tight. It took work. While aware that William was still missing—and the danger he posed for us—I thought of him less and less, while thinking increasingly about handsome, sociable, and charming Lieutenant John André. In short, I was joyful—in a blind way. I gave almost no thought to the future, as if nothing bad could happen.
    Dear Reader, do not lose faith in me! I believed in our noble struggle. Every day I reminded myself I was a patriot. Still, there were things about which I feared. I knew our store of money kept diminishing. My father was not fully recovered. Mother was constantly worried. In fact, one day early in December, she called me into the back room.
    As I stood beside the bed, Father told me that I must go again and see if Mr. Gaine had come back. The same for Mr. Rivington. If they had, I must beg to inquire ifthere would be any work for him in the offering. He put a stress on “beg.”
    â€œAre we so short of money?” I asked.
    â€œI fear so,” said Father.
    â€œAnd if he asks about your condition?”
    â€œSay I have been ill.”
    â€œAnd,” my mother cautioned yet again, “nothing about William.”
    â€œOf course.”
    When I told John André that I needed to go to Hanover Square, he obligingly offered to accompany me. To be sure, I was more than delighted to be stepping about town with the lieutenant.
    Consider my happiness: me, an altogether smitten girl, his blue ribbon in my hair—worn like a love token—walking about town on the arm of a handsome officer in a smart red uniform. What an elegant pair , thought I. You may believe me when I say I felt as if my whole world was that moment.
    The lieutenant and I were thus walking along Broad Street in the North Ward when we came upon a troop of men herded on by armed redcoats. Since Fort Washington had recently fallen, I supposed these men were prisoners from that rout.
    These prisoners—some forty men—were the image of defeat: scrawny, foul, and bandaged. Their cheerless faces showed broken spirits, with no light of eye or smile on any face I saw.
    Since they were passing right before us—in the street—our way was blocked. Of course, it was onlynatural that I cast my eye upon them, not in any thoughtful way, but merely out of curiosity. As I recall, John André even made a jest at their expense, which, let it be admitted, made me giggle.
    But even as I did, I saw my