'Mr. Brook, the fact that your father was a British Admiral and that you are a member of White's is security enough for me, and I should be happy to finance you to any reasonable amount.'
It was then arranged that Roger should write a letter to Hoare's Bank, inforrning them that Mr. Morris had lent him five hundred pounds and that this sum was to be repaid on presentation of the letter, together with the current rate of interest for loans from that date up to the date of presentation. Mr. Morris said that he would have the money next day, and invited the Brooks and the van Wycks to dine with him so that he could hand it over.
When Roger and Mary were in bed on the night they had received this generous assistance, he said to her:
'Mary, my love, although I have done my best to hide it from you, I know that you must have guessed how desperately worried I have been about our situation here. If we could have got a ship to land me in any European port, either in Britain or, as the Comte de Breuc, anywhere on the Continent, I could with ease have procured the money to pay our passage. But Silas van Wyck's enquiries among his shipping friends have made it certain that no American merchant will any longer send one of his ships to sea, owing to the certain chance of her being captured by the British blockading squadron.
'That meant I would have to seek some clerical post to provide us with the means of subsistence during our virtually enforced captivity here; for we could not remain as the good van Wyck's guests indefinitely. But now, with the five hundred pounds that Gouverneur Morris has so generously lent me, an alternative is open to us. With ample money to pay our way, we could proceed north to the Canadian border and, given good luck, succeed in crossing the war zone. Then from Quebec we'd have no difficulty in securing a passage home. What say you to this project?'
'That we must embark upon it,' she replied at once. 'The war may last for years, and working as a clerk in some merchant's office would be misery for you. The loan has proved a god-send, and the sooner we set out for Canada the better.'
After a moment he said, 'Were I alone I would not hesitate to do so. But nothing could induce me to leave you behind, and such a journey would prove no light undertaking for a woman. Once past Albany you would have to face great discomfort. Further north winter conditions still prevaiclass="underline" ice on the lakes, snow, possibly blizzards, and uncertainty about securing even barely edible food. Added to that, when endeavouring to cross the frontier, we would be in grave danger, not only from the Americans catching us and believing us to be spies, but also from falling into the hands of a band of Indians, who might treat us with the utmost savagery.'
'No matter,' Mary declared. 'No conditions could be worse than those we faced together in Russia. Mr. Morris's loan will not last indefinitely, and it would be misery for you to earn a pittance here in some subordinate position. And still worse for me, to witness your unhappiness daily for months, perhaps for years. If you refrain from asking. Silas tomorrow to do what he can to facilitate our journey to the north, then I shall do so myself. Now, either make love to me, or let us go to sleep.'
Turning over, Roger took her in his arms and murmured, 'My sweet, brave Mary. Since you are determined to face this venture, I'll no further labour the risks we must take, for if we do not take them we condemn ourselves to an indefinite period of dreary frustration which would be near intolerable to support.'
The following morning they told their host and hostess of their decision to try to get home by way of Canada. Silas van Wyck endeavoured to dissuade them from the attempt, stressing the difficulties and dangers they would encounter. His wife added her plea, describing the discomforts she had once endured during a journey of only a week in a covered wagon. But Mary replied that she had suffered far worse, and Roger added that they could travel the greater part of the way by water.
This was true, as the supply' route to the American forces on the St. Lawrence river front was due north from New York, first by way of the Hudson then across Lake Champlain, and there was a regular service of river boats up the Hudson as far as Albany.
Having failed to persuade his guests to stay on, van Wyck procured passages for them on the next boat going north, sailing on March 14th. That morning the van Wyck family accompanied them to the landing stage and, having said good-bye to these excellent friends Roger and Mary started on their long journey.
There had been settlements on both sides of the Hudson river for well over a hundred and fifty years, and there was a regular service between New York and the considerable town of Albany, so the boats were moderately comfortable. The passengers were mostly farmers or store keepers, some of whom were accompanied by their wives and negro slaves. There was also a group of Redskins, who had been down to New York to exchange furs for tobacco, powder for their muskets, fiery spirits and various domestic articles such as iron cooking pots.
Roger was told that the Indians were Mohawks, one of the tribes of the Five Nations that, united, were termed Iroquois. Hiawatha had been one of the founders of the Confederation, and it had the highest form of government of any Indian people north of Mexico. The group on the boat wore, beneath their furs, fringed tunics of fine deerskin, and their moccasins were decorated with coloured beads. Their heads were closely shaved, except for the traditional scalp lock, from which a single eagle plume dangled over the left shoulder. Mary and Roger had seen a few Indians, mostly half-breeds, in New York, but they had been shoddily-dressed by-products of semi-civilisation, whereas these Mohawk braves were obviously the real thing. All day they sat cross-legged, seldom speaking but passing their pipe and taking unhurried draws in turn from it. Thin-faced, with high cheekbones, hooked noses and impassive features, they presented a picture of proud independence. At night they remained on deck and slept wrapped in their bearskins.
It was very cold, but the weather was fine and the wind favourable. Every twenty miles or so the boat went alongside the wharf of a small township to disembark or take on passengers and stores; then, when she reached Albany, she berthed for the night before preparing for her return trip.
In Albany Roger and Mary stayed the night at an hotel the name of which had been given them by van Wyck. Fortunately, as it now turned out, they had bought fur coats, hats, gloves, muffs and fur-lined boots while in Stockholm, as further north it was still winter. Knowing that for part of their journey they would have to sleep rough, they went out the following morning and bought a number of things they might need, including beaver sleeping bags.
Next day they went aboard a smaller boat which would take them another forty-five miles up the river to Hudson Falls, which was the most northern point to which it was navigable. There they landed at Fort Edward, about which there had grown up a small settlement. In an open space some troops were being drilled, but otherwise there was little military activity, as the campaign was not expected to open for another three weeks. Nevertheless, owing to the place being on the supply route for the operations of the previous summer, it had grown considerably and now had several large rest houses, at one of which Roger was able to secure accommodation.
The next stage of their journey entailed twenty miles overland, past Glen Falls to Fort George, which lay at the southern extremity of the lake of that name. Again the past summer's campaign made their journey easier, for what had earlier been a rough track through the wilderness had been greatly improved to facilitate the passage of convoys. The scenery, with its rapids, waterfalls and wooded slopes, was magnificent, but the gradients were often steep, so it took them twelve hours to do this part of their journey in a covered wagon.