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Once only some one tried to bar their entrance, but Harriet turned such a look upon the man that he slunk away abashed, and they proceeded unmolested. Through the corridor they pa.s.sed to the stairs.
Here they met the wife of the landlord.
"Ye can go no further, young ladies," she said, her ample form blocking their progress. "There is an important meeting up-stairs, and no one is allowed up there."
"Madam, you must let me go," burst from Harriet. "My brother is one of the men from whom the victim is to be chosen. Do, do let me be where I can at least hear what is going on."
The girl was so lovely in her distress that only for a moment did the woman hesitate, then she turned abruptly. "Follow me," she said, "Bless your pretty face, I could not refuse such a request as that.
But you must make no noise. You must just listen."
"Yes, yes," spoke Harriet feverishly. "That is all we ask."
"The meeting is in there," said the woman pausing before a door. "Ye are to go in here, where there is a door between the rooms. Ye can hear very well there. Now, remember: no noise."
"Yes, yes," spoke Harriet again. "Come, Peggy." And into the room they hurried.
At first they heard nothing but distant echoes, as of closing doors and people hurrying in and out of rooms. These noises resounded through the pa.s.sages, and gave a note of unusual commotion down-stairs. Presently the distant sounds ceased, and out-of-doors all was quiet too. All at once the hum of voices in the adjoining room came to them. Harriet went swiftly toward the closed door, and before Peggy realized what she was about to do, the girl had opened it.
So intent were the men in that other room that they did not notice the opening of the door, nor did they turn their heads as the faces of the girls appeared in the entry way. Brigadier-General Hazen, who had charge of the post at Lancaster, was speaking, and all eyes were fixed upon him.
On one side of a long table which stood in the center of the room sat the thirteen young officers from whom the victim was to be selected.
Back of them stood the British Major Gordon. A little apart stood Mr.
Owen and Robert Dale with the officer of the dragoons. On the side of the table opposite the unfortunate thirteen were John Drayton and the commissary, with two little drummer boys. The scarlet coats of the British made a pleasing note of color against the buff and blue of the Continentals.
"That this drawing may be as fair as possible," General Hazen was saying, "it has been deemed best that the names of the thirteen officers shall be placed in one hat; in another hat shall be placed thirteen slips of paper of the same size, all of them blank save one on which is written the word, 'unfortunate.' These drummer boys are to draw out the slips simultaneously from the hats. The name drawn at the same time that the word unfortunate is drawn will be the victim selected. Gentlemen, I have only to say that no one can regret more deeply than I the course events have taken. Captain Drayton, will you and the commissary take the hats?"
Amid a silence so profound that a pin could have been heard to fall the two officers took the hats, and stood holding them on the table while the drummer boys began the drawing. Into Peggy's mind darted Thomas Ashley's words:
"'There shall be retaliation, Hannah. Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, life for life.'"
She started as though some one had spoken. Retaliation! Was this what it meant? That another innocent life should be taken? How horrible and b.l.o.o.d.y a thing is war! Because some one else hath committed a crime must another pay the penalty? One, two, three, four, five. Five names drawn. And Clifford's name not yet. Not yet. Her breath came gaspingly but strangely quiet as that other room was no one noticed it. Harriet was clutching her hand so tightly that it ached for hours afterward, but at the time neither girl knew it.
Six, seven, eight, nine! And still Clifford's name had not been called. Harriet bent forward as the boy drew the next slip:
"Captain Williams," he read clearly.
And from the other, hitherto so silent, sounded at the same time a word that fell upon the ear like a knell of doom:
"Unfortunate!"
And then from every American as well as every Englishman present there broke a sob. That is, from every man except Clifford Owen. He was very quiet, very composed, but his gaze was turned upon John Drayton as though he expected triumph at the result. But tears were running down Drayton's face, and Clifford's own countenance softened as he saw it.
Once before Peggy had heard strong men weep. Then it had been over the defection of a brilliant soldier; now they wept that a fresh young life must be given in reprisal. Once, twice, General Hazen had tried to speak. At last he laid his hand upon Clifford's shoulder, and turning to the officer of the dragoons, said huskily:
"This gentleman, sir, is your prisoner."
But at that Harriet, who had stood as though stunned, gave a great cry, and ran to Clifford:
"My brother! My brother! My brother!"
CHAPTER XXII
WHAT CAN BE DONE?
"Here we have war for war, blood for blood, Controlment for controlment."
--_King John._
Exclamations of pity and compa.s.sion came from the men as Harriet threw her arms about her brother. On General Hazen's countenance consternation showed as well as commiseration. The scene was sufficiently trying as it was. The feminine note added to the complexity of the situation.
Over Clifford Owen's face there swept a swift, indescribable change.
He drew his sister to him and held her close, bending his head to hers with a gesture that was full of yearning. There was not a dry eye in the room. Both Americans and English felt it no shame to their manhood that tears streamed unrestrainedly down their cheeks.
The brother and sister were so young. The youth, n.o.ble and handsome, was striving to bear the tragic fate trust upon him with fort.i.tude yet was torn by his love for his sister. The maiden, so surpa.s.singly lovely that even the violence of her grief could not mar her beauty, was filled with anguish over the impending doom of her brother. That the boy had all he could do to maintain his composure was manifest to every one. For a time it seemed that affection would submerge all other emotions; then came a quick stiffening of his body as though he were preparing himself to resist any further appeal to his tenderness.
When he spoke it was clearly and composedly:
"My sister, what do you here? This is no place for you."
"I had to come," she cried pa.s.sionately. "Think you I could stay away when I knew not what would be done to you?"
"'Tis known now, Harriet. The lot hath been taken. I must accept my fate. Help me to do it bravely, my sister. You are a soldier's daughter, a soldier's sister. Let us show Americans how English men and English women meet untoward events."
"Oh," she uttered piteously, "you are to die. What is pride of race when you are to die? And father? What will father say?"
"He is a soldier, Harriet. He knows that war hath its vicissitudes which to-day may bring victory; to-morrow, death. He knows this, and we, his children, should know it also. He would like us to meet this with courage and calmness."
"I cannot," she cried sobbing convulsively. "I cannot, Clifford. They mean to hang you, my brother; just as Fairfax Johnson was hanged. I cannot bear it."
"Cousin David!" The boy turned appealingly toward Mr. Owen. His lips were white. His brow was wet with perspiration. He was fast approaching the limit of his endurance. "Will you take her? I--I cannot----" He compressed his lips tightly, unable to proceed.
"Yes, my lad," answered Mr. Owen brokenly. He beckoned to Peggy, and they both endeavored to unclasp Harriet's clinging arms from her brother.
"No, no," she shrieked. "I cannot let you go, Clifford. Is there no way to prevent this awful thing? Major Gordon," turning toward that officer suddenly, "can't you do something? Can't you do something?"
"There is naught that can be done," replied Major Gordon pityingly. As the princ.i.p.al British officer in Lancaster he had been present that he might be satisfied that everything was conducted with fairness. Beyond that he was helpless, being himself on parole.
General Hazen spoke at this moment, to the relief of all:
"My dear young lady," he said gruffly, to hide his emotion, "your brother need not start for New Jersey to-day. He may remain in Lancaster for two days longer, which will give a slight respite. He must be held a close prisoner during that time, well guarded to prevent escape; but you may see him once each day. It is not in my power to do more than that, but it is something."
"It is much, sir," she cried seizing his hand, and impulsively kissing it.
"I thank you, sir," said Clifford courteously, quick to seize the advantage such diversion created. "I shall see you then to-morrow, my sister. Captain, I am ready."
With firm step he placed himself by the side of the dragoon, who took him by the arm. On the other side of him walked the British Major Gordon, and thus they pa.s.sed out of the room. The youth's departure was the signal for this most tragic meeting to break up. Quietly, showing no elation that they had been spared and another taken, their faces expressive only of sorrow, the twelve British officers, each saluting Harriet as he left, filed out of the apartment. The drummer boys tiptoed after them. General Hazen was the last to go, pausing only to say:
"You shall see him twice more, my dear. I think I would go home now, if I were you. This hath been most trying. Odds life, most trying!"