Peggy Owen and Liberty Part 11

"'Tis true," faltered the girl in a low tone.

"When did it occur?"

"Last Sixth-day."

"Which was Friday, the first day of this month. Was your father at home at the time?"

"Yes," answered Peggy quickly, "but he knew naught of it."

"And did you not know that it was a misdemeanor to succor one of the enemy?"

"Yes, friend; I knew it."

"You knew that 'twas a misdemeanor, and yet unbeknown to your father you still committed it?" he asked, as though amazed at such duplicity.

"Did you not know that such an act might bring suspicion upon him? Did you not know that even though he had given good service to the cause, even that would not avail him if he were suspected of abetting a prisoner's escape? Whom can we trust since General Arnold failed us?"

Peggy was too full of emotion to be able to do more than nod acquiescence.

"Then if you knew these things, why did you do this?" he demanded, his brow darkening.

"He was my cousin, Clifford Owen," she told him brokenly. "I could not refuse him shelter in such a storm."

"Clifford Owen? A son of that Colonel Owen who as a prisoner on parole stayed at your house?"

"Yes," answered Peggy.

"A brother to that Mistress Harriet Owen who played the spy with our army at Middlebrook, and who while at your house tried to communicate with the enemy at New York and was banished for so doing?"

"Yes," answered the girl again.

"And to favor one of these cousins you would do that which might cause doubt to be cast upon your father's patriotism, and bring this friend here under displeasure of this tribunal? This friend who hath served us so n.o.bly as nurse."

"Thee must not do anything to Sally," cried Peggy, roused by this speech. "I alone am to blame for everything. None knew that I hid my cousin, and Sally helped only because she saw how greatly I was distressed lest Clifford should be taken. She did not know him, and only helped me out of friendship. Ye must do naught to her. There is no one to blame but me."

"And do you justify yourself for involving a loyal friend in difficulty by the mere fact that the prisoner was your cousin?" he asked, and the cold incisiveness of his tone made the girl shiver.

"You have said that he was your cousin, Margaret Owen, as though that were excuse for disloyalty. Ye have both attended Master Benezet's school; while there did ye not read of one Junius Brutus, who sentenced his own sons to death when he found them implicated in a conspiracy against the country?"

"Yes, we read of it," interposed Sally so shrilly that the grave men who composed the semicircle were startled into keen attention. "We read of it, Friend Moore; but does thee think their mother would have done it? I've often wondered where Mistress Junius Brutus was. Had he been my husband," with an impressive shake of her curly head, "I'd have led him a life of it after such an act. 'Twas unnatural and cruel, I think. Of course Peggy hid her cousin. Is she not a female?

Think ye that females are made of such stern fiber that a relative, even though he were an enemy, would ask aid and be refused? I don't believe that there is one of ye but what would do the same thing under like circ.u.mstances. Thee has spoken of what I have done for the Cause.

Why doesn't thee mention Peggy's services? Didn't she ride in the cold and the storm to inform General Putnam of the spy, Molesworth's plot?

Hasn't she worked to keep the hands, and the feet, and the backs of the army warm? I don't believe that another girl in the Union hath knit so many mittens and socks, or made so many shirts as Peggy Owen hath. I can't begin to tell all she hath done for the Cause; and yet just because she hath regard for her kin, which being a woman she cannot help, ye want to convict her of a misdemeanor. 'Tis monstrous!

How can she help softness of heart? Hath she not been taught every First-day to do good to them that despitefully use her? When I first went into nursing I hated the English intensely, and when the wounded were brought in I'd attend to our own soldiers first, no matter how badly the others were hurt. And then one day, Dr. Cochrane said to me: 'They're all mothers' sons, Miss Sally. Somewhere, some woman is waiting and praying for each one of them. Our own boys might be in like predicament with the enemy. Treat them as you would like our own treated.' Since then," Sally continued half crying, "I've tended them all alike--American or English, French or Hessian."

"Bless my soul!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Jacob Deering, as the maiden's voice broke. Like a flash she turned upon him.

"Thee has a niece, Kitty, hasn't thee, Friend Deering?" she cried.

"Why, so I have, Miss Sally. So I have."

"And she married an Englishman, didn't she?"

"Yes," he answered with a bewildered air. "Yes, she did."

"Now, Friend Deering," she cried, shaking her finger at him earnestly, "just suppose that Kitty's Englishman had come to thy house for shelter last Sixth-day, when it was so cold and stormy that thee would feel bad if the house cat was left outside? Suppose he had come asking for shelter? Would thee be any the less a friend to thy country if thee should listen to the dictates of humanity and give him shelter?"

"Bless my soul!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Mr. Deering, again helping himself liberally to snuff. "Bless my soul!"

"Wouldn't thee give him shelter?" persisted she. "Wouldn't thee, Friend Deering?"

"Zounds! Of course I would," he cried. "Englishman, or not. No matter what he was, I would turn no man from my door on such a day."

"Of course thee wouldn't," she cried in a blaze of indignation. "Yet thee and thy fellows here want to indict Peggy and me for the very thing ye would do yourselves. Shame on ye!"

"Indict ye!" cried the old gentleman, getting to his feet with the agility of a youth. "Indict ye!" he roared, shaking his fist at the council belligerently. "If any man dares to indict so much as a hair of your pretty heads he shall answer to Jacob Deering."

CHAPTER IX

OUT OF THE FRYING-PAN INTO THE FIRE

"Long war without and frequent broil within Had made a path for blood and giant sin, That waited but a signal to begin New havoc, such as civil discord blends, Which knows no neuter, owns but foes or friends."

--_"Count Lara," Byron._

The two mothers were at the door to greet them as David Owen brought the girls back. Both girls were much excited, half laughing, half crying, over the turn events had taken.

"'Tis good news, I can see," said Mrs. Owen leading them into the sitting-room. "As to how it came about I can gather nothing clearly."

"Oh, 'twas Sally, Sally," cried Peggy. "'Tis said that Mr. Henry of Virginia is eloquent, but ye should have heard Sally. He could not excel her."

"'Twas a complete rout," declared Mr. Owen, his usual composure somewhat ruffled. "Here I was down-stairs beset with anxiety lest untoward sentences be pa.s.sed upon the girls when down from the Council chamber they came, escorted by Mr. Jacob Deering and President Moore himself. Sally addressed the honorable body with so much unction, I hear, that thy uncle, Robert, at once declared for them. In fact, his championship took the form of a direct challenge, which caused so much merriment that the Council was unable to proceed with the business before it, and an adjournment was taken until this afternoon."

"But what happened? What did you say? Do tell us, Sally," urged Robert Dale. "I acknowledge that I am consumed with curiosity. I am sure the others are affected in like manner. We were just sitting here while you were gone trying to cheer each other by hoping that the sentence would be fines rather than imprisonment. And here you come back with neither, it seems, and colors flying. Do tell us what happened."

"Well," laughed Sally, who was plainly elated over the matter, "I was greatly frightened until we entered the Council chamber; but do ye know," she broke off excitedly, "just as soon as I saw those men I knew that there was not one of them who would have refused Clifford shelter that stormy day? So I told them so. That's all."

A shout of laughter greeted this explanation. When it subsided Peggy spoke.

"Thee didn't tell them about Brutus, Sally," she chided. "'Twas that that first excited thy ire." With that she related in detail all that had taken place.

"Hurrah for Sally! And hurrah for Uncle Jacob too," cried Robert.

"'Twas wonderful, as Peggy says. How did you happen to think of it, Sally?"

"'Twas high time that I did something to redeem myself," answered Sally. "After all," she continued a trifle wearily, for in spite of the petting and being made much of even her buoyant nature was beginning to feel the strain of events, "after all, I should not have been obliged to do it. Peggy and I are in our own city. It hath been a long war, and from the first we have shown our patriotism by doing what we could. Whenever anything of this sort occurs it should not be necessary to do aught but explain how the matter came about without fear of punishment."