Peggy Owen and Liberty Part 27

"And was thee not punished for it?" Truelove Davis was regarding her with a curious steadiness of gaze that Peggy found extremely irksome.

If she would but remove that riding mask, she thought, she could talk to her better. "Did the friends bear in silence that thee and thine should depart from their peaceful practices?"

"They read us out of meeting," replied Peggy controlling herself with difficulty. "Father, nor any of us, did not embrace the Cause of Liberty without due thought. It did seem to us that life was not of worth unless it were accompanied by Freedom. To be free to worship G.o.d in our own fashion was the reason that the Great Founder built our city on the Delaware. England would have taken religious freedom from us also had not her oppression with regard to political rights been checked. It was not without the guidance of the inward light that we arrayed ourselves with Liberty, Truelove."

"Sometimes what one thinks is the leading of the inward light is but the old Adam that is within us tempting to strife," remarked Truelove provokingly. "I greatly fear 'tis so in thy case, Margaret. 'Tis easily seen that thou art of a froward and perverse nature. Come! sit by me, Margaret, while I read thy duty to thee. Thou art in need of a lesson."

"Not from thee." Peggy's eyes were sparkling now, and she spoke with some heat. "Who art thou that 'tis thy duty to read me a lesson? Thou art a stranger, met but a moment since. I listen to no lesson from thee, Truelove Davis."

"And there spoke the Owen temper," came from the other severely.

Peggy turned toward her quickly.

"What know thee of the Owen temper?" she asked in amazement.

"Everything, Margaret. How hot and unruly it is. I well know how it doth refuse advice, howsoever well meant. Thee should be sweet and amiable, like me."

"Like thee?" Puzzled, perplexed, and withal indignant, Peggy could not help retorting. "Will thee pardon me, Truelove, if I say that thy amiability lacks somewhat of sweetness?"

"Nay; I will not pardon thee. Lack somewhat of sweetness indeed, Mistress Margaret Owen! Does thee think thee has all the sweetness in the family? Obstinate, perverse Peggy!"

With a cry Peggy sprang toward her.

"Thy face!" she cried. "Let me see thy face. 'Tis Harriet's voice, but Harriet----"

"Is before you." The girl unclasped the mask and revealed the laughing, beautiful face of Harriet Owen. "Oh, Peggy! Peggy! for a Quakeress you did not show much meekness. So you would not take a lesson from a stranger, eh? You should have seen your face when I proposed it."

"But how did thee come here, Harriet? And why did thee a.s.sume this dress?"

"Come sit down, and I'll tell you all about it," said Harriet, giving her cousin a squeeze. "Don't be afraid, Peggy. I promise not to teach any lesson. I should not dare to. But oh!" she laughed gleefully. "I shall never forget how you looked. You'll be the death of me yet, little cousin."

CHAPTER XIX

THE TURN OF THE WHEEL

"From every valley and hill there come The clamoring voices of fife and drum; And out in the fresh, cool morning air The soldiers are swarming everywhere."

--_"Reveille," Michael O'Connor._

"But first, Harriet, do take off that bonnet, and let me see thee as thou art really; with thy hair about thy face. So." Peggy reached over and untied the bow as she spoke, then removed the prim little bonnet from her cousin's head. "How beautiful thee is," she commented gazing at the maiden with admiring eyes. "I think thee grows more so every time I see thee. That bonnet doth not become thee."

Harriet shook back her chestnut ringlets, and laughed gaily. Her wonderful eyes, dancing with mirth, were starry in their radiance.

"One would think that I did not make a good Quakeress, Peggy, to hear you talk. Now confess," pinching Peggy's cheek playfully, "you did not dream that I was aught other than Truelove Davis; did you?"

"N-no; and yet thee puzzled me," said Peggy. "Oh, Harriet, thee should turn play actress."

"Well, there are times when I think of it, cousin mine. 'Tis rare sport to make others believe that I am that which I am not."

"But why did thee do it, Harriet? And to be here alone on the highway!"

"I wanted to see Clifford, Peggy. Neither father nor I had heard aught from him since the misfortune at Yorktown, save that he was at Lancaster. We knew not whether he was ill or in health, or whether he was meeting with kindness or not. As your Congress permits supplies to be sent to the captured British it occurred to me that I might come along with them and find out about my brother. Of course, as the Most Honorable Council of Pennsylvania had banished me from the state, I dared not come openly, so I slipped in by the back door, as it were.

"Father would not hear of my coming at first. Then I dressed up in this garb, and went in to where he sat talking with the new commander, Sir Guy Carleton, who hath come to take Sir Henry Clinton's place, and neither one of them knew me. Sir Guy declared that there would be no danger, as a Quakeress would meet with respectful treatment anywhere.

He gave me a pa.s.s which would further insure my well being, and so, when a boat load of stores was shipped to Head of Elk the first of this week, I came with it. Everything hath gone off well until this breakdown, and I do not regret that, since it hath brought us together. So you see, Peggy, the matter is very simple after all."

"Yes," said Peggy. "Harriet, thy brother was at our house in Third Month."

"He was?" exclaimed Harriet. "Tell me about it, Peggy."

And Peggy told her all that had happened on that memorable first of March, with its consequences.

"So the Council hauled you and Sally up before it, did it?" cried Harriet. "Oh, dear, Peggy! you are always getting into trouble over us, aren't you? And Sally, and Robert, and Fairfax, all helped you in the affair. That makes me feel sorry about Fairfax Johnson. Do you know, Peggy, that matter hath created quite a stir in New York? There were many who wanted Sir Henry to turn over Captain Lippencott to the rebel general, but the court-martial found that he was acting under verbal orders from the Honorable Board of a.s.sociated Loyalists, and so should not be punished for obedience. Sir Guy is not altogether satisfied with the finding."

"It was very sad, Harriet," said Peggy, the tears coming to her eyes.

"Fairfax was only doing his duty in defending the state from invasion, and 'twas most inhuman to execute him in such a lawless manner. Our people are not satisfied to let the matter rest, because 'twas a crime committed in open defiance of the laws of war."

"Oh, well," spoke Harriet lightly. "Don't let's talk about it, Peggy.

I dare say Sir Guy Carleton and your General Washington will arrive at some understanding regarding the affair. Is that your mother's coach coming?"

"Yes. She will be glad to see thee, Harriet. She is fond of thee. And Robert Dale is beside her. Thee will like him, Harriet. Indeed, I know not how one could help it."

"Indeed, my cousin?" Harriet's brows went up quizzically. "I thought you were all for Captain Drayton? I rather prefer this Major Dale myself. He hath more manners than John Drayton ever had."

Peggy's face flushed, but she observed quietly:

"They are both dear lads, Harriet. Thee will see John also at Lancaster. Father said that he had been sent there."

"Then it will be quite like old times, Peggy. At Middlebrook there were John Drayton and your father to take us about. If we have Robert Dale, in addition to Clifford, we should have a gay time."

"Perhaps," was Peggy's answer.

A look of intense amazement appeared upon Robert Dale's face as he rode up. He had left a demure Quakeress with Peggy, and returned to find this beautiful, radiant girl. Both girls laughed at his bewildered expression.

"'Tis my Cousin Harriet Owen, Robert," explained Peggy. "She hath a.s.sumed this dress that she might go through to Lancaster with safety to see her brother, Clifford."

"But--but Truelove Davis?" The youth was plainly nonplused.

"He wants Truelove, Peggy," cried Harriet her eyes dancing with mischief. "Where is that bonnet?" She caught it up as she spoke, tying it again under her chin. "Does that please thee better, friend youth?"

she asked turning toward the young man roguishly.

"Would that I were a limner to paint you," burst from the young fellow impulsively.

Harriet smiled charmingly as she swept him an elaborate courtesy.