Peggy Owen and Liberty Part 38

"Ah, Mr. Owen," he said shaking hands cordially with David Owen. "I am glad to see you. I have excellent reports of the work you are doing in Lancaster. Miss Peggy, 'tis long since I have had the pleasure of seeing you. And--Miss Harriet!"

The smile died from his lips as he uttered her name. General Washington had an excellent memory for faces and events. Harriet's duplicity at Middlebrook was not easily forgotten; so his expression changed, and his face grew stern and cold. Harriet's color faded and she began to tremble. Nevertheless she sank in a deep courtesy before him.

"It was my understanding," he continued, "that you were banished from our lines. If this be true how is it that we are favored with your company?"

"Sir," she answered, gaining control over herself and speaking in a steady voice, "'tis true that I was banished to New York; but I think you will find that 'twas only from Philadelphia. I did not understand that it was from the entire line. I know, your Excellency, that I have no right to come to you to ask a favor. I have no claim by which I can urge even consideration. Still, I do ask mercy. I do entreat you to use clemency; not because I deserve it, but because I do not believe that you would be guilty of aught that savored of inhumanity or barbarity."

Harriet was very beautiful as she made her plea, her unusual humility lending softness to the customary hauteur of her manner. A perplexed look crossed the general's countenance at her words. He bent toward her courteously.

"Unravel the matter, I beg of you," he said more gently. "Do I understand that something hath gone amiss for which you are entreating lenity?"

"It is not for myself, sir. My cousins here can bear witness that I came within your lines for the sole purpose of seeing my brother." She raised her head proudly, and met his glance with unwavering eyes. "He was at Lancaster. At Lancaster, where he hath been chosen as the most unfortunate victim of retaliation. It is for him I plead."

"Your brother?" For the merest second a gleam of astonishment shone on his face. It faded, leaving his countenance as impa.s.sive as ever. He turned to the table, and picked up a folded doc.u.ment from among the many lying upon it.

Hastily he scanned the page, then looked up. "'Tis as I thought," he said. "Brigadier-General Hazen hath reported concerning that matter, and the young man herein named is not your brother, Miss Harriet. On the contrary, 'tis one Captain Wilson Williams who hath been the unfortunate selected to pay the penalty."

"And Captain Williams is my brother, sir. My brother, Clifford Owen, who because father did not wish him to go into the service enlisted under another name. My brother, and he hath been chosen to die shamefully because another hath committed a dastardly crime. Sir, in the name of that mother whose son you are, I entreat you to have mercy upon him who is an only son, an only brother----"

"And a mother in New Jersey mourns an only son, and she a widow," he interrupted, his voice implacable in its sternness. "Miss Harriet, I lament the cruel necessity which alone can induce so distressing a measure. It is my desire not only to soften the inevitable calamities of war, but even to introduce on every occasion as great a share of tenderness and humanity as can possibly be exercised in a state of hostility. But for the barbarous and inhuman murder of Captain Johnson there must be satisfaction."

"And will it give satisfaction to wreak vengeance upon an innocent person?" she cried stung to bitterness. The grim countenance of the general was not encouraging. His eyes seemed to pierce her as with cold steel. "Is it not as barbarous, as inhuman to execute one who is as guiltless as yourself in the matter? You, sir, are dealing ruthlessly when you visit such penalty upon a victim. It shows want of humanity."

"I am listening to you, Miss Harriet," he said patiently, "because you are grieved and anguished over the affair. I know that you are much overwrought. Therefore will I explain to you that by all the usages of war, and upon the principle of retaliation I should have been justified in executing an officer of equal rank with Captain Johnson immediately upon receiving proofs of his death, and then informing the British commander of what I had done."

"You are so stern," she cried with growing excitement. "So stern! So unfeeling!"

"Nay," he protested, and there was compa.s.sion in his tone. "Not unfeeling. Although duty calls me to make this decisive determination in the matter humanity prompts me to drop a tear for the unfortunate offering. I most devoutly wish that something might be done to save his life."

"You do?" she cried eagerly. "Why, sir, 'tis easily done. A scratch of the pen is all that is necessary. Oh, 'tis a great thing to have such power! See, here are ink-horn, powder and paper! What doth hinder you from writing an order for his release?"

She stepped quickly to the table as she spoke, and picking up a quill held it appealingly toward him. His eyes softened.

"Stay!" he said. "I do feel just that way, Miss Harriet, but there is a duty that must be performed toward our people. There are many American prisoners held by the enemy. Among them some as young, as manly, as lovable as your brother. If the matter be suffered to go by without retaliation what a.s.surance have we that they will not be as lawlessly dealt with as Captain Johnson?"

"Oh!" she said looking at him miserably. "But Clifford hath been guilty of naught. Were he a spy, an informer, a deserter, I would not ask you to abate one jot or t.i.ttle of his fate. I might in such case try to rescue him by trickery, by deceit, by any means that would save his life, but I would not question the justice of his doom. But he is not a spy, not an informer, not a deserter----"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "I KNEEL TO YOU, SIR."]

"Nor was Captain Johnson," he reminded her. "Yet he was hanged most treacherously."

"But not by Clifford, sir! Not by Clifford! He would scorn to do such a deed." She stood for a moment, regarding him with such pleading that Peggy choked. Suddenly Harriet crossed the room and flung herself before him.

"Sir," she cried seizing his hand, "Harriet Owen hath never knelt to mortal man before save her king. I kneel to you, sir, and I beg, I implore you to exercise clemency toward my brother. He hath been guilty of naught save that he hath served his king. He hath a blameless reputation as a soldier, and you yourself are a soldier. It may be just to retaliate; I know not. But is there not mercy as well as justice? 'Twill be great and n.o.ble to exert leniency in such a case as this."

"Rise, I beg of you," he exclaimed, much pained. "I must do my duty, however abhorrent it may be to me. There hath been mercy shown already in that your brother hath had several days of grace, and the order for his execution not yet signed."

At that Harriet clung to his hand desperately.

"Do not sign it yet, sir. You will not give his life--give me then a little time."

"For what purpose? Is not uncertainty full of anguish and suspense?"

"No, no, no," she answered vehemently. "It hath hope, possibilities.

Sir, give me time to go to Sir Guy Carleton to lay the matter before him. He is our own commander. He should give you Captain Lippencott, the one who did the deed."

"And there we are agreed," he made answer. "I will do this, Miss Harriet, though I fear that your efforts will meet with no success.

With your commander-in-chief lies the only gleam of hope that the situation possesses. Sir Guy hath reprobated the act in no uncertain terms, but still he finds himself unable to do aught than to accept the rulings of the court-martial. Go to him, Miss Harriet, and bring all the influence you have to bear upon him that he may release to us this man, Lippencott. No one would rejoice at your success more than I. Meantime your brother shall live until the result is made known to me. You shall have a reasonable time allowed."

"Thank you, sir. I thank you----" The girl attempted to lift the hand to which she still clung to her lips, but a deadly faintness seized her. She trembled, grew pale, and fell in an unconscious heap at his feet.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE ADVENTURE OF THE GLEN

"Fair as morning beam, although the fairest far, Giving to horror grace, to danger pride, Shine martial Faith, and Courtesy's bright star, Through all the wreckful storms that cloud the brow of War."

--"_Lady of the Lake._"

The morning gun at West Point had not ceased to echo among the surrounding hills the next morning when the horses for Mr. Owen and the two maidens were brought to headquarters. Harriet, quite recovered from her indisposition of the day before, vaulted lightly into the saddle, and bowed low as General Washington came forth to bid them farewell.

"Your Excellency overwhelms us with kindness, sir," she cried. "You have been n.o.bility itself in granting this respite to my brother. I have no fear now as to the outcome of the matter. There is no doubt in my mind but that the real culprit will be delivered into your hands within a few days."

"I trust that it may fall out as you wish, Miss Harriet," answered the general courteously. "As I have said, you shall have ample time for your mission."

"Thank you, sir. Ten days should be more than sufficient time. 'Tis but to go to New York, lay the whole affair before Sir Guy Carleton, and return."

"There are many things which might occur to bring about delay, Miss Harriet," he observed quietly. "In a case of this nature 'tis the part of wisdom to accept all that is offered. We will say two weeks; but General Carleton must give his decision by the end of that time. The matter now rests with him. I wish you all a safe journey."

He bowed gravely, and, overcome by the kindliness of this great man, the three left Newburgh much happier than when they entered it.

Harriet was to cross the river at Dobbs Ferry, the post where all communication between the two armies was maintained, while Mr. Owen and Peggy were to return to Chatham to inform Clifford of the result of the interview with General Washington.

In high spirits Harriet laughed and chatted as she had not done for days, pausing ever and anon to admire the beauties of the river, uttering exclamations of delight at some particularly imposing view.

Before them lay West Point with Crow's Nest Mountain, b.u.t.ter Hill and the two Beacon mountains; on the southwest, Pollopel's Island, in use at this time as a military prison, lay at the northern entrance to the Highlands; on the east were the fertile valleys of the Mattewan and Wappinger's Creeks, and the village of Fishkill Landing; behind them was Newburgh Bay with the little village of the same name upon its sh.o.r.es, beyond which lay a broad champaign country.

"Father and Clifford must see this before we sail for home," cried Harriet. "Oh, if I were king I'd never let the Americans deprive me of such a river!"

"If it affects thee like that, la.s.s, perchance then thee has a slight idea of how we, who are natives of the country, feel toward those invaders who try to wrest it from us."

"I don't wonder at your feelings, Cousin David," she said. "'Tis only, being English, that it seems to me a mistake to give these colonies up."

"We have demonstrated by force of arms that we are no longer colonies, Harriet," he reminded her quietly.

"Oh, I know, Cousin David," she replied gaily. "But, until peace is declared, I cannot but regard you as belonging to us."