Peggy Owen Patriot Part 37

Egan hurried back into the house, and caught up a portmanteau which he kept lying by his bed at night. Mistress Egan and Peggy were dressed by this time, and the three hurried into the swamp which lay to the north of the cottage. The man who had given the warning pa.s.sed on to perform the same office for other menaced families.

Unused to swamps, the British seldom followed the inhabitants into their recesses, and this proved the safety of many a family in the Carolinas.

They were scarcely within the confines of the marsh when they heard the tramp of many hoofs, the neighing of horses, and the enemy was at the cottage.

"By my hilt, the birds have flown," shouted an English voice, and the words were distinctly heard through the stillness of the night. "Search the house, boys. Egan must have some rich pickings. Bring out whatever there is of value, and then burn the hut. The horses and cattle must be hereabouts somewhere."

There followed hoa.r.s.e cries and a rush for the building. It seemed to Peggy that a moment had hardly pa.s.sed before a red glare lit up the spot where the cottage stood.

"Back into the swamp," whispered Egan in a whisper. "They may see us here."

Back into thicknesses of mora.s.s such as Peggy had never seen before they went, speaking only when necessary and then in the lowest of tones. And thus the rest of the night was spent, while the fiends ravaged the herding pens, and beat up the bushes for the ponies. The fugitives remained in hiding until morning dawned. Then they made their way back to the blackened ruins of the cottage. Tears coursed down Peggy's cheeks at the sight.

"What shall thee do?" she cried putting her arms about Mistress Egan.

"Oh, what shall thee do?"

For a moment the fisherman's wife could not speak. She shed no tears, but her face was worn, and drawn, and haggard. She had aged in the night.

"Henry," she cried, "there is but one thing for us to do, and that is to get to mother's."

"And how shall we do that, Mandy? We have neither horse nor wagon left us."

"Henry Egan, I'm ashamed of you! Ain't we in North Carolina? When did her people ever refuse to aid each other?"

"You're right," he acknowledged humbly. "North Carolina is all right-but the Tories. I don't take no stock in that part of her population."

"And neither do I," she rejoined grimly. "From this time on I am a Whig out and aboveboard. They have done us all the harm they can, I reckon.

What you got in that bag, Henry?"

Egan smiled.

"It's gold, Mandy. I reckon they didn't find all the pickings."

"For mercy sake, Henry Egan, we can't get through the country with that," exclaimed the good woman. "Bury it, or do something with it."

"Yes," he said. "That will be the safest. Wait for me while I do it." He was with them again in a short time. "We will go to Hampton's and get something to eat," he said. "I kept a little money, and maybe Mis'

Hampton will let us have some horses." He turned as he spoke and his wife started after him, but Peggy lingered.

"Come, child," said Mistress Egan. "It's a right smart way over to Hampton's. We must get along."

"But," hesitated Peggy, "won't I be a burden now? I ought not to add to thy trouble."

"Why, honey, you have nowhere to go. What would you do? Now don't worry about trouble, but just come right along. We will all keep together.

What's ourn is yours too." And gratefully Peggy went with them. It was indeed a "right smart way" to Hampton's, which proved to be a large plantation lying some ten miles from the cottage. It was a cloudless day in August, and excessively warm. When they at length reached the place they were footsore and weary.

"Why, Mandy Egan," exclaimed a motherly looking woman, coming to the door of the dwelling as she caught sight of them. "Whatever has happened? Come right in. You all look ready to drop."

Mistress Egan, who had borne up wonderfully all through the long night and the wearing walk, now broke down at this kindly greeting.

"The Tories, under some British, burnt us out last night," explained her husband. "They sacked the house first, of course, and ran off all the ponies and cattle. We have come to you for help, Martha. Will you let us have the horses to get up to Charlotte to her mother's?"

"Of course I will, Henry. All sorts of reports are flying about. Will says that down at Wilmington 'tis thought that nothing can save the old north state. Cornwallis hath already begun his march toward us."

"Heaven save us if 'tis true," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the fisherman, sinking into a chair. "First Lincoln and his whole army at Charleston; then Gates and his forces at Camden! Two armies in three months swept out of existence.

The cause is doomed."

"Oh, if they had only sent General Arnold," cried Peggy. "He is so brave, so daring, I just know he could have saved us."

Gravely, oppressed by vague fears for the future, they gathered about the table. American freedom trembled in the balance. Disaster had followed fast upon disaster. Georgia, South Carolina restored to the British-North Carolina's turn to be subjugated was at hand.

It was with sad forebodings that the three began their journey toward the north early the next morning.

CHAPTER XXIX-PEGGY FINDS AN OLD FRIEND

"One hope survives, the frontier is not far, And thence they may escape from native war, And bear within them to the neighboring state An exile's sorrows, or an outlaw's hate: Hard is the task their fatherland to quit, But harder still to perish or submit."

-Byron.

The travel northward was by slow stages, on account of the intense heat of the lowlands. The settlements along the Cape Fear River were composed princ.i.p.ally of Scotch Highlanders, who were favorable to the side of the king, and these the fisherman's little party avoided by leaving the road and making a wide detour through the woods. But often in the gloaming of the summer evenings the weird notes of the bagpipes sounding old Highland tunes would mingle with the mournful calls of the whip-poor-wills, producing such an effect of sadness that Peggy was oft-times moved to tears.

Still, these regions were not deserted. They sometimes came across numerous groups of women and children-desolated families, victims of Tory ravages, who were fleeing like hunted game through the woods to the more friendly provinces northward. It was a great relief when they finally reached the undulating country of the uplands, and, after a week of hard riding, the town of Charlotte, to the left of which, on the road leading to Beattie's Ford on the Catawba River, lay the plantation and mill of William and Sarah Sevier, parents of Mistress Egan.

They were unpolished people in many ways, but so kindly and hospitable that Peggy felt at home at once. The community was famed for its love of liberty, and was later denounced by Cornwallis as "a hornet's nest." It was here, five years previous to this time, that the spirit of resistance to tyranny found expression in the famous "Mecklenburg resolutions." In this congenial environment Peggy was as near to happiness as it was possible for her to be so far from her kindred. One thing that added to her felicity was the fact that Charlotte was directly on the route running through Virginia and thence north to Philadelphia, which before the Revolution had been used as a stage line.

"If only I had Star," she would cry wistfully, "I would try to get home.

If only I had Star!"

One morning in the early autumn Mistress Egan called Peggy, and said to her, in much the same manner that her mother would have used:

"I want you to put on your prettiest frock, Peggy. Ma's going to have a company here for the day. The men are to help pa gather the corn while the women take off a quilt. The young folks will come to-night for the corn-husking, but I reckon there won't be a girl that can hold a candle to my little Quakeress. The boys will all want you to find the red ear."

Peggy laughed.

"Is that the reason there hath been so much cooking going on, Friend Mandy? Methought there was a deal of preparation just for the family."

"There's a powerful sight to be done yet," observed Mistress Egan.

"Then do let me help," pleaded Peggy. "Thee spoils me. Truly thee does.

Why, at home I helped mother in everything."

The guests came early, as was the custom when there was work to be done.

The men rode horseback with their wives behind them on pillions, and with rifles held in the hollow of their left arms; for it was the practice in those trying times to bear arms even upon visits of business or friendship. Soon a company of two score or more had gathered at the farmhouse. Greetings exchanged, the men hastened to the cornfields to gather the new corn, while the women cl.u.s.tered about the quilting frames, and fingers plied the needles busily, while tongues clacked a merry accompaniment.

The morning pa.s.sed quickly, and at noon the gay party had just seated themselves around the table where a bountiful dinner steamed, when they were startled by a shout from the yard.

"Fly for your lives, men! The British are coming to forage."