Peggy Owen Patriot Part 24

"Mother," spoke Peggy, rising abruptly, "if thee does not mind I think I'll go to my room. I-I am tired."

Her voice quivered as she finished speaking and a wild inclination to sob came suddenly over her. Mrs. Owen glanced at her daughter's pale face anxiously as she gave her permission to withdraw. Something was amiss, she saw. The two girls had not spoken, and had avoided each other's glances. Wondering much, she turned again to the guests while Peggy, safe at last in her own little chamber, gave vent to a flood of tears.

CHAPTER XIX-A PROMISE AND AN ACCUSATION

Under each flower of radiant hue A serpent lies unbidden; And chance ofttimes doth bring to view That which hath been hidden.

-The Valley of Tayef.

The camp was thrown into a turmoil of excitement the next day when it was learned that two regiments of British had indeed endeavored to take General Maxwell's brigade by surprise. A detachment in search of the governor had reached Liberty Hall shortly after three o'clock that morning, but not finding him at home a quest was made for his private papers, which were saved by the quick wit of his daughter, Susannah.

Baffled in this attempt they rejoined their comrades who had surrounded Elizabethtown, expecting to capture the brigade at least.

General Maxwell, however, by reason of Harriet's warning had marched out before their arrival, and surprised the enemy by falling upon them at daybreak.

The lively skirmish that ensued, resulted in the loss of several men on each side, while the academy, where were kept stores of various kinds, the Presbyterian Hospital, and a few other buildings were burned by the British in their retreat.

When this news was received Harriet and Peggy became the heroines of the hour. A constant stream of visitors besieged the Owens' quarters until Mr. Owen laughingly declared that he should have to entreat protection from General Washington.

In all the demonstration, however, Peggy was a secondary luminary.

"'Tis the more remarkable because thee is an English girl," was David Owen's comment when Harriet protested against so much attention being shown her. "And thee deserves it, my child. 'Twas a great thing for thee to do."

"But Peggy found the note," spoke Harriet with insistence. "I must have been miles away when she found it. Wasn't I, Peggy?"

Peggy gave her a puzzled look. Why did she make such a point of not being present when the note was found, she asked herself.

"My daughter," chided her father, "did thee not hear thy cousin's question? Thou hast not answered her."

"Oh!" exclaimed Peggy rousing herself. "What was it, Harriet? I was wondering about something."

"'Twas naught," spoke Harriet. "I only said I was not with you when the note was found."

"No, thee was not with me," answered Peggy, and something of her perplexity was visible in her manner.

On Friday morning, the day following the sortie by the enemy, Mrs. Owen entered the parlor where the two girls were for the moment sitting alone with Mr. Owen.

"Girls," she said, "an aide hath just come from His Excellency with his compliments. He desires the pleasure of Misses Margaret and Harriet Owen's company to dinner. You are to accompany the aide, who will wait for you to get ready, and will see that you are safely returned before night falls."

"Oh, must we go?" cried Harriet. "Please, Cousin David, may I not stay with you?"

"Tut, tut, la.s.s!" returned he. "Refuse His Excellency's invitation to dine? 'Twould be monstrous unmannerly, and that thee is not, Harriet."

"But I would rather stay with you," she pleaded, and her dismay was very apparent.

"And deprive the general of the pleasure of thanking thee for thy heroism?" he asked. "He wishes to interview you both about the note, I dare say. He said the matter would need attention."

"I don't know anything about it, my cousin," she objected almost in tears. "'Twas Peggy who found it."

"Nay; thee must go, Harriet," he said in such a tone that she knew that 'twas useless to object further.

The two girls went up-stairs to dress. It was the first time that they had been alone together since they had found the note on Wednesday. To Peggy's surprise, Harriet's hands were shaking so that she could not unfasten her frock. A feeling of vague alarm thrilled Peggy at the sight. She went to her cousin quickly.

"Harriet," she cried, "what is it? Why do you tremble so?"

"Peggy," answered Harriet, sinking into a chair with a little sob, "I am afraid. I am so afraid!"

"Afraid?" repeated the amazed Peggy. "Of what, Harriet?"

"Of your Mr. Washington," answered the girl. "He is so stern, and, and--Oh, I am afraid!" she cried wringing her hands.

"True, he is a stern man," said the perplexed Peggy, "but still he hath a kind heart. We have dined there often, Harriet, and thee did not mind.

I see not why thee should fear him now. He will but ask us about the note, and thank thee for thy timely warning to the governor and the brigade."

"You will not tell him that at first I did not wish to go, or to have you go, will you, Peggy?" pleaded Harriet. "I thought better of it, Peggy. I-I felt sorry about it afterward."

"Thee made up for thy hesitancy n.o.bly, Harriet," spoke Peggy warmly, all her bewilderment vanishing at her cousin's acknowledgment of sorrow for what she had tried to do. "I will do as thee wishes in the matter."

"And will you tell him that I was not near when the note was found?"

asked the girl eagerly.

"Yes; for thee was not. But why? I cannot see what difference 'twould make whether thee was there or not."

"You are a good little thing, Peggy," said Harriet kissing her without replying to the question. "'Twas mean of me to ride ahead and give the warning. 'Tis you who should have the credit, but I had to. I had to.

Some day you will know. Oh!" she cried checking herself suddenly, "what am I saying?"

"Harriet, thee is all undone anent something. Is thee not well? Let me call mother, and she will give thee some 'Jesuit's bark.' Thee is all unstrung," spoke Peggy with solicitude.

"No, no; I am all right now," said Harriet with something of her accustomed gaiety of manner. "And, Peggy, whatever happens remember that I am your cousin, leal and true. I am only a girl, Peggy, and alone in a strange land."

"Harriet, what is the matter? Thee speaks in riddles," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Peggy, wonderingly.

"Peggy, I am unstrung," answered Harriet. "And I am afraid that I have done wrong about-about many things. I wish, oh, Peggy, I wish I had not had you give that note to that soldier. I'm afraid that 'twill be found."

"Well? And what if it is, Harriet? There is nought of harm in it?" Peggy spoke calmly hoping to soothe her cousin by her manner.

"Peggy!" Harriet clasped her arms about her convulsively. "Promise me that you will not tell that I asked you to give it to him!"

"But," began Peggy.

"Promise, promise," cried Harriet feverishly.

"I promise, Harriet," said Peggy, hoping to quiet her.

"Peggy" called Mrs. Owen's voice at this moment, "thee must make haste.

The aide is waiting."