Peggy Owen at Yorktown Part 18

"Would I had died," broke from him pa.s.sionately, tears of humiliation in his eyes, "ere I was brought to lie here like a baby compelled to accept services that I wish not."

A deep flush dyed the girl's face, and she choked. For a moment she feared lest she should lose her self-control, then mastering herself-Peggy had been well schooled in self-repression-she said mournfully:

"Thee must not excite thyself, Cousin Clifford. Suffer me to care for thee a little longer. If it can be arranged so that another may take charge of thee, it shall be done. I knew not that thou didst dislike me so much."

He made no reply, but partook of the broth she gave him without protest.

Then, because it was part of her duty to wait beside him until the morning visit of the surgeon, she picked up the little bunch of violets and sat down quietly.

Her heart was very full. She could not understand the youth's aversion.

It was as though he held something against her that she had done; the resentment of an injury. In wondering perplexity she fondled the violets, and with unconscious yearning her thoughts flew back to far-off Philadelphia, and the long ago time when there was no war, and she had not known these troublesome cousins.

What times she, and Sally, and Betty, and all the girls of The Social Select Circle had had gathering the wild flowers in the great woods!

When was it they had gone there last? It came to her suddenly that it had been six long years before, just after the battle of Lexington. They had made wreaths for their hair, she remembered. Was it violets that made Sally's, she wondered, the blue of the flowers she held stirring her memories vaguely. No; it was quaker-ladies, and they were blue as Sally's eyes. They never would go to the great woods again because the British had felled the trees.

At this point in her meditation Peggy looked up with a start to find her cousin regarding her with such an intent look that the color mantled her cheek and brow. He seemed as though he was about to speak, and, fearful that there would be another outbreak which would agitate him, she began speaking hurriedly:

"I am thinking of the great wood, cousin, which used to lie along the banks of the Schuylkill River at home. We went there in spring time for violets, and all the wildings of the forest. Thee should have seen the great trees when they were newly leaved, and again in the autumn when they were clothed in scarlet and gold; and--"

"What have you done with Harriet?" interrupted he in a tense tone.

"What have I done with Harriet?" repeated Peggy so surprised by the question that she let the violets fall to the floor unheeded. Clifford had not mentioned his sister's name since the first day she came. "I told thee, my cousin, that the council had sent her to New York, because she communicated with Sir Henry Clinton which is not allowed. She had been warned, but she heeded it not. Does thee not remember?"

"I know what you told me," he made answer. "Think you that I believe it?

Nay; I know that your people have prevented her from coming to me."

For a moment Peggy was so amazed that she could only stare at him. When she had recovered sufficiently to speak she said clearly:

"I think thee must be out of thy mind, cousin. I spoke naught but truth when I told thee of Harriet. I should not know how to speak otherwise.

Why should we hinder thy sister from coming to thee? There would be no reason."

"At one of the taverns where we stopped on the way down here, a captain, a whipper-snapper Yankee, flaunted a shirt in my face made by my sister." The boy's eyes flashed at the recollection. "I wrote her praying her to tell me that he did it but to flout me. I prayed her to write that she was still loyal to her king and country. And she answered not. I sent another letter, and still there was no reply. Then I tried to escape to get to her, and I was wounded in the attempt. The director of the hospital here promised, to quiet me, that he would see that she received a letter, and I wrote for her to come. Harriet would have come had she not been prevented."

"But why should she be prevented?" demanded the astounded Peggy.

"Because 'twas feared that once she was with me she would return to her allegiance. That my influence would make her remember that Colonel Owen's daughter could show no favors to a Yankee captain; that--"

"Clifford Owen," interrupted the girl sternly, "listen to me. Thou art exciting thyself needlessly. Thy sister likes the Yankee captain, as thee calls him, no more than thee does. She did make that shirt; but 'twas done because she was as full of idle fancies as thou art, and mother sought by some task to rid her of the megrims. She gave it to John hoping to flout him, thinking that he would not wear a garment bearing the inscription embroidered, in perversity, upon it. She did write to thee. Not once but several times. That thee did not receive the letters is to be deplored, but not to be wondered at, considering the state of the country. She exerted herself on thy behalf to procure a parole, and 'twas near accomplishment when, impatient at the delay, she wrote to Sir Henry Clinton imploring him to ask thy exchange. As I have told thee, 'tis not permitted for any to communicate with the enemy, and so she was sent to New York. And now thee has the gist of the whole matter," concluded Peggy with dignity.

"And why is she not here?" he asked obstinately.

The girl rose quickly.

"I have told thee," she said quietly. "I will say no more. If thee chooses to doubt my word then thee must do so. I have spoke naught but truth. My cousin, thee will have to get another nurse. I am going back to my mother. 'Twas a mistake to come. I but did so because mother and I felt sorrow for thee alone down here with none of thy kin near, and perchance dying. 'Twas a mistake, I say, to have come, but I will trouble thee no longer. I shall start home to-day on my pony. The way is long, and lonely; but better loneliness and fatigue than suspicion and coldness. I hope thee will recover, my cousin. Farewell!"

She turned, standing very erectly, and started to leave the room. Before she had taken a half dozen steps, however, there came the quick beat of the mustering drum from the Market Green, and a hoa.r.s.e shout from without:

"The British! The British are coming!"

CHAPTER XVI-THE TABLES TURNED

"Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blushed-at the praise of their own loveliness."

-Byron.

Instantly the little town was all commotion. From every quarter men came running in answer to the call, ready to defend their homes from the invader; while women huddled together in groups, or gathered their treasures and fled with them to the forest. Mustered at length, the militia, pitifully few in numbers, sallied forth to meet the enemy. From the southward came the strains of martial music as the British approached, and mothers, wives, and sisters waited in breathless suspense the result of the encounter.

The sound of a few shots was borne presently on the breeze, followed by the rush of running men, and the militia which had marched forth so bravely but a short time before, came flying back, panic stricken.

"There are thousands of them," cried the panting men. "We could not stand against the whole British army." On they ran, while from the other direction came the first division of Major-General Phillips' army, the Queen's Rangers, under Lieutenant-Colonel Simcoe, which marched in with drums beating, and colors flying.

At the first alarm Peggy had paused abruptly, hardly knowing what to do.

Her first impulse had been to return to the cottage, but remembering that Fairfax was with the militia, and Nurse Johnson somewhere about the hospital, she hesitated. As she did so there came a peremptory voice from the bed:

"Mistress Peggy!"

"Well, my cousin?" Peggy went back to Clifford reluctantly.

"Are my people truly coming?"

"They seem to be," answered the girl.

"And where were you going?"

"I really don't know," answered she. "I would be alone at Nurse Johnson's cottage, which I would like not. Solitude is conducive to fear, and I wish ever to present a brave front in the presence of the enemy. I shall remain somewhere about the hospital by necessity."

"Stay by me," he said.

"But thee has hardly ceased telling me that thee does not want me near thee?" cried the girl opening wide her eyes in surprise.

"I have not changed my opinion concerning the matter," he said grimly.

"But I am an English officer, and the safest place for you is by my bedside. Therefore, mistress, I command you to sit here by my bed."

"I don't want thy protection," began Peggy hotly. "I think I prefer thy soldiers."

"Did I want your nursing?" he demanded savagely. "No, I did not; yet was I compelled to submit to it. And while I did not desire your attendance, still you have attended me. For what purpose I know not, nor doth it now matter. The fact remains that I am under an obligation of which I would be quit. I will requite whatever of service you have rendered me by procuring exemption from pillage or annoyance for both yourself and the friends with whom you are staying. Sit you here beside me, Mistress Peggy, and bide the result."

"Clifford Owen," retorted the maiden so bitterly angry that she could scarcely speak, "were it not for those friends who have been so kind to me, I would die rather than accept aught from thy hands. But because of them I will take whatever of favor thee can obtain for us. But 'tis under protest. Under strong protest, I would have thee understand."

"So?" he said. "That is quite as it should be."

For one long instant the two gazed at each other. The lad's whole appearance betokened the keenest enjoyment of the situation. He looked as though he had received a draught of an elixir of life, so animated and strong did he appear.

Peggy, on the contrary, found no pleasure in the state of things. She was as near blind, unreasoning wrath as her gentle nature ever came. Had it not been for Nurse Johnson and her son, she would have left her cousin's bedside forthwith. As it was she sat down beside him in anything but a meek frame of mind.

The streets of the little city thronged with the red coats of the British, and they took possession of public buildings, dwellings, and shops as though they were masters returning to their own.