Peggy Owen and Liberty Part 34

"True, but they would not hold it against me now," she cried in dismay.

"I think naught will be said anent the subject," he replied. "But in case there might be 'twould be well to have me with thee. For this and other reasons I shall go."

"I am so glad, Cousin David," she cried. And Peggy too felt greatly relieved when she was told.

So it came about that when the dragoons set forth with their prisoner two days later they were accompanied by Major Gordon, Mr. Owen, and the two girls, Peggy and Harriet. Clifford was closely guarded, but there was no undue severity shown. He was permitted to converse with his cousins and his sister whenever he wished. Frequently he rode long stretches of the road with them, the troopers in front and behind.

And everywhere, at the inns, and the towns through which they pa.s.sed, the people flocked to see this victim of retaliation. And the extreme youth and manly bearing of the unfortunate young man won him much compa.s.sion. The people had been greatly stirred by the death of Fairfax Johnson. He too was young, and his death had been such a lawless proceeding that it had roused the whole country to the necessity of reprisal lest other Americans be subjected to a like fate. But there was a dignity in the warm pa.s.sions of these people that the instant it was in their power to punish they felt a disposition to forgive. And so there was pity and compa.s.sion freely expressed for the young captain and his untoward fate.

It was a sorrowful journey. The troopers rode hard and fast, so that the afternoon of the third day after leaving Lancaster brought them to the Middle Ferry. The sun was just sinking behind the hills of the Schuylkill as they crossed the ferry, and rode down High Street into Philadelphia. Mr. Owen and the two maidens left the party at Fifth Street, bound for the Owens' residence in Chestnut Street. The troopers continued down High Street to Third; for they were to stop at the Bunch of Grapes Tavern.

CHAPTER XXIII

A LITTLE HUMOR DESPITE A GRIM SITUATION

"Alas! regardless of their doom, The little victims play!

No sense have they of ills to come, No care beyond to-day."

--_Gray._

The great clock of the State House was striking ten, the next morning, as Peggy emerged from the west entrance of the dwelling, and, basket in hand, went down the steps of the terrace into the gardens.

It was a lovely day. The sky was blue with June's own cerulean hue, and across its depths floated the softest of fleecy white clouds. The air was fresh and balmy, and tinged with the honeyed sweetness of red roses. With basket and shears the girl wandered from bush to bush, cutting the choicest blossoms. That her mind was not on her task was manifest by the fact that ever and anon she paused, shears in hand, and became absorbed in thought. In this manner she sauntered through the gra.s.sy paths and graveled alleys until she came at length to the fence which separated the garden from Fifth Street. Peggy stopped here, and gazed thoughtfully across at the State House, as she was wont to do in the early years of the war.

"What will the Congress do?" she mused. "Would that I could see into that east room! Will they listen to Harriet, I wonder? And the people!

how many there are in the square. What makes them cl.u.s.ter about the grounds so?"

The State House Square was in truth filled with groups of men who stood about talking earnestly. It was the custom of the citizens of Philadelphia to do this when any exciting event occurred, or when any stirring measure was before the Congress. Peggy's curiosity as to the cause was therefore natural, but there was no one near who could gratify it, so she turned reluctantly from the fence, and resumed her task of cutting the roses. Abstractedly she worked, oblivious to her surroundings, when all at once the sound of flying feet brought her back to reality. Startled she turned to see Sally Evans running toward her from under the trees.

"I have just heard about Clifford, Peggy," cried Sally, flinging herself upon her friend. "Mr. Deering told me. I thought that I should find thee here, or some of thy people. Oh, Peggy! Peggy! that it should be Clifford."

"Yes," replied Peggy sorrowfully, as she returned the embrace. "'Tis dreadful."

"And what is thee going to do anent it? Why, Peggy Owen! surely thee hasn't been coolly picking flowers?"

"I had to do something, Sally, to while away the time until they come back," apologized Peggy meekly. "Waiting is trying when so much depends upon the issue."

"Whatever is thee talking about?" demanded Sally bewildered. "Sit down here under this tree, Peggy, and tell me all about everything. Whom does thee mean by they?"

"Father and Harriet, Sally. They have gone over to see the Congress to see if aught can be done for Clifford."

"Harriet?" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Sally. "I thought that Harriet was in New York City with her father. How did she come here?"

"I'll tell thee all about it," answered Peggy, sinking down beside Sally under a tree. Forthwith she told her friend everything that had happened since leaving Philadelphia, beginning with the meeting with Harriet on the road to Lancaster, and ending with the journey back to the city after Clifford had been chosen as the unfortunate victim.

Sally listened attentively.

"Oh!" she breathed when Peggy had concluded her narrative. "And does thee think the Congress will do anything for him, Peggy?"

"I fear not," answered Peggy sadly. "Father hath little hope of it, but Harriet will leave naught undone that promises the least relief.

If Congress does nothing, we are to go on to General Washington. In any event Harriet will go to New York to see the British general."

"Well, General Washington ought to do something," cried Sally. "He hath a kind heart, and it does seem awful to hang Clifford when he had naught to do with Fairfax's death. Doesn't thee think he will?"

"Sally," spoke Peggy earnestly, "there is but one thing that can save Clifford Owen: that is for the English commander to give up Captain Lippencott. That he hath heretofore refused to do."

"Oh, Peggy! then thee believes that he must die?" came from Sally in a sob.

"I am afraid so, Sally. Clifford himself thinks there is no hope."

For a time Sally sat very still, then she spoke softly:

"Peggy!"

"Yes, Sally."

"Did thee tell Clifford about me? How I did not betray him to Sheriff Will?"

"I tried to, but he would not listen. Harriet took him to task for it, Sally. She told him that if thee said thee did not betray him, thee didn't." And Peggy related all that had pa.s.sed regarding the matter.

"Then he will die believing that I was a false friend to thee, and that I betrayed him who was a guest of my hospitality," remarked the girl mournfully. "Oh, 'tis bitter to be misjudged! 'Tis bitter!" And to Peggy's astonishment she burst into tears.

"Why, Sally! I did not know thee cared so much," cried Peggy.

"I--I don't," flashed Sally. "At least, not much. 'Tis only--only that I do not like to be misjudged. And I've never been given so much as a chance to defend myself. Oh, dear!" dabbing her eyes viciously with her kerchief as she spoke, "I don't suppose they can help it, but of all stubborn, unreasonable creatures on this earth I do think Englishmen are the worst! I'd just like one chance to tell Clifford Owen so."

"Well, why doesn't thee?" asked Peggy suddenly.

"Peggy!" Sally sat up very straight and stared at her. "Just what does thee mean?"

"Just what I say, Sally. He is at the Bunch of Grapes. If thee wishes to see him I will take thee there. Then thee can have thy chance."

"But--but----" The color flooded Sally's face from brow to chin.

Presently she laughed. "Well, he couldn't run away from me, could he?

He would have to listen. I'll do it. 'Twill be the last opportunity I shall ever have of clearing myself. I would not dare do it only, being bound, he cannot help but listen. Come, Peggy!"

"Bound?" exclaimed Peggy amazed. "What put such a notion in thy head, Sally? He was not when we came from Lancaster."

"That was because he was riding. 'Tis only since he entered the city.

Did thee not know that the Minister of War hath charge of him now?

'Tis he who hath insisted upon extra precautions being taken on account of the Tories. 'Tis talked everywhere on the streets, Peggy, that he is bound."

Peggy instantly became troubled.

"That would be severe treatment," she said. "Methought 'twas understood that he was to be granted every indulgence consistent with his safe-keeping. I like not to think of him being bound. Let's go, Sally."