Jim DeFelice - The Golden Flask

"I've earned a rest, I think."

"We have many miles to ride, and then you will rest," said van Clynne, adopting Jake's usual line of argument in these conversations. "Really, sometimes I wonder how you ever became a spy with such a shallow constitution. Let us board our horses and be off. We have but a few hours before darkness, and even if we ride all night, we will be hard-pressed to make the camp on time."

And so once again Lieutenant Colonel Jake Gibbs found himself in the familiar position of shaking his head as he traveled with van Clynne. There was, it will be admitted, a vague pleasure attached to the Dutchman's company, even as he complained that the trees were no longer as green as they once were.

"You know, Claus, you look quite young without your beard," ventured Jake as he boosted himself onto his horse's back. "I think you are not half as old as you pretend."

"Thank you, sir, for your kind words, but there is no need to win my affections with flattery. I already hold you in high esteem."

"I am surprised that you allowed your beard to be cut at all. Did you harbor some secret admiration for Alison?"

"Please, sir, let us not be so impertinent. Nor should you forget that I found you holding a British noblewoman in your arms. What will General Washington say to that, I wonder?"

"He might well ask if I kissed her," said Jake, spurring his mount. "And I will have to say I did."

Van Clynne prodded his horse to follow. The white-gray stallion was a sturdy beast, provided by a Jersey patriot. For once the Dutchman had the faster horse, and he quickly caught up to his companion.

"There was a time when a gentleman refused to tell whether he kissed or not. Now, if Governor Stuyvesant were here, I can assure you, things would be different. There was a gentleman, sir, despite his occasional show of temper. A gentleman was a gentleman under his direction; he inspired them."

"Indeed," answered Jake. "Indeed."