Peggy Owen Patriot Part 19

"Is it John, mother?" asked Peggy, letting her tambour frame fall to the floor. "I wondered why we did not see him."

"Yes, 'tis John, Peggy, though he is called Ensign Drayton here. Perhaps 'twould be as well for us to term him so, too."

"Come, Harriet," called Peggy rising. "Let us run down. 'Tis our first caller."

"And being a soldier let us prepare for him," said the English girl, reaching for a box. "What would we females be without powder? 'Tis as necessary to us as to a soldier, for 'tis as priming to our looks as 'tis to a gun. There! will I do, Peggy?"

"Thee is beautiful, my cousin," replied Peggy with warm admiration.

"Thee does not need powder nor anything else to set off thy looks."

"Oh, well," laughed the maiden, plainly gratified by her cousin's remark, "'tis as well to be in the mode when one can. And I wish to do you honor, my cousin."

"Oh, John," cried Peggy as she entered the parlor, where young Drayton stood twirling his c.o.c.ked beaver airily. "That I should live to see thee wearing the white c.o.c.kade of the Parley-voos on thy hat. What hath happened?"

"The most wonderful thing in the world, Mistress Peggy," answered Drayton reddening slightly at her raillery. "General Washington hath said that if my behavior warranted it he would put me with the Marquis de La Fayette's brigade upon his return from France. As 'tis to be a picked corps of men 'tis most gratifying to one's vanity to be so chosen. And in compliment to my prospective commander I am wearing the white c.o.c.kade with our own black."

"I am so glad," exclaimed Peggy. "Thee is making us proud of thee.

Father said that there was no soldier more faithful to duty than thou.

This is my cousin from England, John. Mistress Harriet Owen, Ensign Drayton."

"Your servant, madam," said Ensign Drayton with a sweeping bow, which Harriet returned with a deep curtsey.

"Ah, Drayton," said David Owen, entering at this juncture. "The la.s.sies are wild to see the camp. Canst thou ride, ensign?"

"That is how I made Miss Peggy's acquaintance, sir," said young Drayton frankly.

"Ah, yes; I had forgot, my boy. I was thinking that perhaps thou couldst join us in our rides, and when it would not be possible for me to be with the girls thou couldst escort them."

"I should be pleased, sir," answered Ensign Drayton. "The country hereabouts is well adapted to riding as 'tis much diversified. The roads, though narrow, are through woods and dales, and are most beautiful. I have been over the most of them, and know them well."

"Then thou art the very one to go with us," said Mr. Owen. "Now, my lad, answer any questions those camp wild maidens may ask and I will improve my well-earned repose by perusing the 'Pennsylvania Packet.' A new one hath just reached me."

"Wilt pardon me if I say something, Mistress Peggy?" inquired young Drayton an hour later as Harriet left the room for a moment.

"Why yes, John," answered Peggy. "What is it?"

"It is to be careful of your cousin," said the boy earnestly. "I like not the fact that she is English and here in camp. She means harm, I fear."

"Why, John Drayton," exclaimed the girl indignantly. "Just because she is English doth not make her intend any hurt toward us. I am ashamed of thee, John, that thee should imagine any such thing of one so sweet and good as my cousin, Harriet. And is she not beautiful?"

"She is indeed very beautiful," he answered. "Pardon me, mistress, if I have wounded you, but still do I say, be careful. If she intends no hurt to any, either the camp or you, there still can be no harm in being careful."

"John, almost could I be vexed with thee," cried Peggy.

"Don't be that, Miss Peggy. I may be wrong. Of course I am all wrong if you say otherwise," he said pleadingly. "I spoke only out of kindness for you."

"There, there, John! we will say no more about it; but thee must not hint such things," said Peggy. And Drayton took his departure.

"Mother," cried Peggy several days after this incident when she had returned from the ride which had become a daily inst.i.tution, "mother, John is becoming rude. I don't believe that I like him any more."

"Why, what hath occurred, Peggy?" asked Mrs. Owen, glancing at her daughter's flushed face anxiously. "Thy father and I are both much pleased with the lad. What hath he done?"

"'Tis about Harriet," answered Peggy, sinking into a chair by her mothers side. "The first time he came he cautioned me to be careful because of her being here. I forgave him on condition that he should never mention anything of like nature again. And but now, while we were riding, Harriet stopped to speak for a moment to a soldier, and he said: 'I don't like that, Mistress Peggy. Why should she speak to that man?

This must be looked into.' And, mother, he wished to question Harriet then and there, but I would not let him. He is monstrously provoking!"

"Well, does thee know why she spoke to the soldier?" asked her mother quietly.

"Mother!" Peggy sat bolt upright in the chair, and turned a reproachful glance upon the lady. "Thee too? Why, Harriet told me but yesterday that she was becoming more and more of the opinion that the colonists were right in rebelling against the king. And is she not beautiful, mother?"

"Thou art quite carried away with her, Peggy," observed Mrs. Owen thoughtfully. "Thou and thy father likewise. As thee says, Harriet's manner to us is quite different to that which her father used. But William, whatever his faults, was an open enemy for the most part, and I like open enemies best. I cannot believe that an English girl would so soon change her convictions regarding us."

"Mother," cried Peggy in open-eyed amaze, "I never knew thee to be suspicious of any one before. Thou hast been talking with John. What hath come to thee?"

"I have said no word concerning the matter to John; nor will I, Peggy.

'Tis not so much suspicion as caution. But now I heard her ask thy father if there were but the three bridges across the Raritan, and if 'twere not fordable. Why should she wish to know such things?"

"Did thee ask father about it, mother?"

"Yes."

"And what said he?"

"He feared that because of William's actions I might be prejudiced against her. He thought it quite natural for her to take an interest in military affairs, and said that she asked no more questions concerning them than thou didst. Beside, he said, she was such a child that no possible harm could come of it."

"Belike it is because of Cousin William that thee does not feel easy, mother," said Peggy much relieved.

"It may be," admitted the lady. "Yet I would that she had not come. I would not have thee less sweet and kind to her, my daughter, but I agree with John that it can do no harm to be careful. Watch, my child, that thou art not led into something that may work harm to thee."

"I will be careful," promised Peggy, adding with playfulness: "As careful as though I did not have thee and father to watch over me, or the army with General Washington right here. Let me see! Seven brigades, are there not? To say nothing of the artillery and four regiments of cavalry variously stationed, and I know not how many brigades along the Hudson and the Sound. There! thou seest that I am as well versed in the disposition of the army as Harriet is."

"Is thee trying to flout thy mother, Peggy?" asked Mrs. Owen laughing in spite of herself. "I may in truth be over-anxious and fearful, but 'tis strange that John feels so too. As thee says, it does seem as though naught could happen with the whole army lying so near. Still I have the feeling that harm threatens through the English girl."

But the days pa.s.sed, and the time brought no change to Harriet's manner.

She remained affectionately deferent to Mr. Owen, full of respectful courtesy toward Mrs. Owen, and had adopted a playful comradeship toward Peggy that was charming. The good lady's reserve was quite melted at length, and she became as devoted to the girl as her husband and daughter.

With girlish enthusiasm the maidens regulated their own days by that of the camp. They rose with the beating of the reveille, reported to Mrs.

Owen as officer of the day for a.s.signments of duty, and, much to her amus.e.m.e.nt, saluted her respectfully when given tasks of knitting or sewing. When the retreat sounded at sunset they announced their whereabouts by a loud, "Here," as the soldiers answered to roll call, and, unless there was some merrymaking at one of the various headquarters, went to bed at the beating of tattoo.

Lady Washington joined her husband in February, and there was an added dignity to the kettledrums and merrymakings in consequence. Better conditions prevailed throughout the camp than had obtained at Valley Forge the preceding winter. The army was at last comfortably hutted. The winter was mild, no snow falling after the tenth of January. Supplies were coming in with some degree of plenitude, and the outlook favored rejoicing and entertainment.

But life was not all given up to amus.e.m.e.nt. The women met together, and mended the soldiers' clothes, made them shirts and socks whenever cloth and yarn were to be had, visited the cabins, carrying delicacies from their own tables for the sick, and did everything they could to ameliorate the lot of the soldier.

After a few such visits to the huts Harriet made a protest.

"I like not common soldiers," she explained to Peggy. "I mind not the sewing, though I do not understand why Americans deem it necessary to always be so industrious. 'Tis as though they felt that they must earn their pleasures before taking them."

"Are not ladies in England industrious too?" inquired Peggy.

"They look after their households, of course, my cousin. And they paint flowers, or landscapes, and the tambour frame is seldom out of the hand when one is not practicing on the spinet, but they do not concern themselves with the welfare of the common soldiers as your women do."