Peggy Owen at Yorktown Part 2

"Oh, wouldn't they?" observed the lieutenant dryly. "These ran like foxes when the hounds are after them. And they took to cover worse than any militia I ever saw. But there!" he concluded. "What doth it matter?

We whipped them badly."

"Harriet hath been ill, John," explained Peggy in a low tone. "Thee must not mind what she says."

"I don't," returned he good-naturedly. "There was never much love lost between us, as she knows, though I am sorry that she hath been ill. Are you as busy as ever, Peggy?"

"The dinner is ready, John," spoke Mrs. Owen as Sukey came to the door with the announcement. "Thee must be hungry. Come now, and eat. And thee must make thy home with us while in the city. It would give us great pleasure."

"Thank you, madam. I will accept gladly, though it will be but for a day or two. There will be return despatches from Congress to General Greene.

I must go back as soon as the gentlemen have finished with me. I wait upon them this afternoon."

"Then thee won't be able to go with the girls to see the skating,"

remarked the lady leading the way to the dining-room.

"If they finish with me soon I will join them," he answered. "My! how good this table looks! 'Tis not often that I sit down to a meal like this."

"I wonder how you poor soldiers can fight so well when you have so little to eat," she said soberly. "'Tis in my mind often."

"Perhaps we fight the better for being hungry," he returned lightly. "We have to get filled up on something, you know. Supplies are in truth hard to come by. Clothing as well as food. General Greene went before the legislatures of all the states he pa.s.sed through on his way South to plead that men, clothing, food and equipment might be forthcoming for the campaign. There is woeful remissness somewhere. Why, some of our poor fellows haven't even a shirt to their backs."

"And I have made twelve myself since I came back," exclaimed Peggy proudly. "And mother as many more. Mistress Reed hath twenty-two hundred to send to the Pennsylvania line now."

"No wonder 'Dandy Wayne' is so proud of his men," sighed the youth with a certain wistfulness in his voice. "The Pennsylvania line is the best dressed of any of the Continentals, and all because the women of the state look after their soldiers. Would that the other states would do as well!"

"Lieutenant Drayton," spoke Harriet suddenly. She had quite recovered her composure by this time. "Peggy did not tell you that I have made a shirt too."

"Not for the patriots?" he asked amazed.

"Yes; for the rebels," she replied.

"Come!" he cried gayly. "You are improving. We will have a good patriot out of you yet."

"Perhaps," she responded graciously, a roguish gleam coming into her eyes. "Are you in need of shirts, lieutenant?"

Drayton's face flushed, and then he laughed.

"I am not as badly off as some of our poor fellows, Mistress Harriet, but they would not come amiss. Why?"

"Because," said she speaking deliberately, "if you will accept it, I should like to give you the shirt that I made."

"To give it to me?" he queried astonished. He had always known that Harriet disliked him, and therefore could not understand this sudden mark of favor. "To give it to me?"

"Yes; to you. Will you promise to wear it if I give it to you?"

"Oh, Harriet," came from Peggy reproachfully, but John Drayton answered with a puzzled look:

"I shall most certainly wear the garment if you give it to me, mistress, and feel highly complimented in so doing."

"I will hold you to your word, sir," cried Harriet. With that she ran out of the room but soon returned with the garment in question. "There!"

she said holding it up so that he could read the embroidered inscription. "See to what you have pledged yourself, John Drayton."

A twinkle came into his eyes, but he took the shirt from her, holding it tightly as he said:

"I shall abide by my word. And what think you the British would say if they saw what is here embroidered? This, mistress: 'That 'tis small wonder the rebels are successful when even our own women help to keep them in supplies.'"

"Oh, give it back," she exclaimed in consternation. "I did not think of that."

"Nay; a bargain is a bargain." Drayton folded up the shirt with a decided gesture. "You were trying to put up a 'take in' on me, but it hath redounded on yourself. Stand by your word, mistress."

"He hath thee, Harriet," cried Peggy laughing.

"I don't care," answered Harriet tossing her head. "'Tis across the shoulders, and if ever I hear of its being seen I shall know that he turned his back to the foe."

"Then you have heard the last of it, for that I will never do," said the lad solemnly.

----- [2] Macaroni-a dandy.

CHAPTER III-A GLIMPSE OF CLIFFORD

"They rose in dark and evil days To right their native land; They kindled here a living blaze That nothing shall withstand.

"Then here's their memory-may it be For us a guiding light, To cheer our strife for liberty, And teach us to unite."

-John Kells Ingram.

When at length the two maidens started forth in the early afternoon they found that the news of the victory at the Cowpens was upon every tongue.

The streets were filled with an eager, joyous crowd of people, all discussing the intelligence with mingled emotions of incredulity and delight. Slumbering patriotism awoke to new ardor, and despairing hearts thrilled anew with hope. From the depths of discouragement the pendulum swung to the other extreme, and all sorts of brilliant achievements were prophesied for the army in the South under Greene.

"How soberly they take the news," observed Harriet as they pa.s.sed a group of men who were quietly discussing the event. "See how gravely, almost sadly, those men are talking. In London we make a great ado when our soldiers win a victory."

"But those are Friends, Harriet. See, thee can tell by their drab clothes and low, broad-brimmed beavers. And being such are therefore neutral. Neutrals do not rejoice at a Continental victory any more than-than some other people," she added with roguish insinuation. "Those who are not of the sect are hilarious enough. Of a truth it doth seem as though their gladness verged on the unseemly."

"That's just it," said the other accusingly. "You, and I doubt not many others in this city of Penn, think the least bit of exuberance a sin."

"It hath not been so of late, Harriet. Indeed it doth seem as though, since thy people held the city, that we would never regain our old peacefulness."

"I liked New York better than this," went on the English girl peevishly.

"There was so much more gayety."

"But we are considered the more intellectual," spoke Peggy quickly, who could not bear to hear the least aspersion against her beloved city.

"'Tis often commented upon by those who come among us. Shall we turn into High Street, Harriet? Or does thee prefer to keep down Chestnut?"

"High Street by all means, Peggy. I think it would be the finest street in the world if it were not for the markets in the middle of it."