Peggy Owen Patriot Part 41

"John!" she cried. "John Drayton!"

"Peggy," he gasped. "In the name of all that's wonderful, what are you doing here?"

"I might ask thee the same thing," she returned. "I was thinking of thee but now, John."

"Were you?" he cried gladly. "I am a lieutenant now, Peggy." He squared his shoulders with the jaunty air which the girl remembered so well, and which had always caused Harriet so much amus.e.m.e.nt. "What think you of that?"

"Oh, I am glad, glad," she returned.

"There is so much to tell you," continued he. "Just wait until I place this other sentinel, and then we can have a nice long talk."

"I can't, John," exclaimed she, remembering her mission. "I bear despatches for the general."

"You with despatches," he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed laughing. "Have you 'listed, Peggy?"

"Nay," returned she gravely, his lightness of heart striking her like a blow. How could she tell him? "John, let me give the letters first."

"Come," said he. "I will take you there at once. I am curious as to why you are the bearer of such missives."

"'Tis ill tidings," spoke Peggy.

"Another disaster, eh?" He laid his arm over the pony's glossy neck and walked thus over toward the farmhouse. "Well, we are used to them. A victory would upset us more than anything just at present. The day we heard of King's Mountain I thought the men would go wild. We didn't try to maintain discipline on that day. Oh, well; if we are whipped, we just fight 'em again. We'll win out in time."

The color fled from Peggy's face. He did not know, and it was she who must tell him. How would he bear it? They had reached the farmhouse by the time, and Drayton a.s.sisted Peggy from the horse, and turned to an orderly.

"Will you say to the general that Ensign-I mean Lieutenant Drayton is without with a young lady who bears despatches? 'Tis important. I have hardly got used to my new dignity yet," he explained turning to Peggy with a boyish laugh. "It's good to see you, Peggy."

"John," said the girl, laying her hand on his arm and speaking with intense earnestness. "Will thee try to be brave? The news I bring--"

"What mean you?" he asked in surprise. "Why should a disaster effect me more than any one else? Peggy, I never knew you to act and to speak so strangely before. What is it?"

"The general waits, lieutenant," interrupted the orderly. "He has but a few moments, as he is going to Hillsboro' for the night."

"Come, Peggy," said Drayton. "I will take you in." They pa.s.sed into the dwelling, and Drayton opened a door on the right of the hall which led to General Gates' office. There were several men in the room, among them Colonel Daniel Morgan who had but recently arrived, and Colonel William Washington.

"General Gates," said Drayton saluting, "allow me to present Mistress Peggy Owen, who is the bearer of despatches. She is the daughter of David Owen, of the Pennsylvania Light Horse."

"You are welcome, Mistress Owen," said General Gates rising courteously.

"Stay, lieutenant," as the lad made a movement to depart. "If the young lady is friend of yours you may be her escort back to Hillsboro' when the mission is ended."

"Thank you, sir," said Drayton, saluting again.

"Sir," said Peggy with a certain wistfulness in her voice caused by the knowledge of the news she bore, "before thee takes the letters I should like to tell thee how I came by them."

"Certainly you may," he said regarding her with a new deference, for the girl's manner and accents bespoke her gentle breeding.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "YOU ARE WELCOME," SAID GENERAL GATES]

And standing there Peggy told simply the story of how she had become possessed of the despatches. A stillness came upon them as she related the death of the vidette, her tones vibrating with tenderness and feeling.

"He died for his country," she said, "and, sir, he wished that told to his wife. She was not to grieve; for 'twas for his country. And his horse, General Gates. I promised that I would speak to thee concerning him. We left him guarding the body. Thee will see that he is cared for, will thee not?"

"Yes," he said, much moved. "So n.o.ble an animal should be looked well to. Did you learn the man's name, mistress?"

"'Twas Trumbull, sir. William Trumbull, of Fairfield, Connecticut."

"I will inform his wife myself," said he, making a note of the matter.

"He died a hero performing his duty. And now may I have the despatches?"

He extended his hand with a smile, saying as he did so: "A man would have given them first, and the story afterward; but this little maid feared we would forget the vidette if she delayed until afterward."

"Yes," acknowledged the girl, looking at him earnestly, for she had feared that very thing. "Sir," giving him the despatches, "I pray thee to pardon me for being the bearer of such awful tidings."

There was a slight smile on General Gates' face at her manner of speaking, but it died quickly as he ran his eye down the written page.

He uttered an exclamation as he mastered the contents, and then stood staring at the paper. At length, however, he turned to the men at the table, and said in a hollow voice:

"Gentlemen, it becomes my painful duty to inform you that Major-General Arnold is a traitor to his country."

An awful pause followed the announcement-a pause that throbbed with the despair of brave men. Disaster had followed fast upon disaster. The South was all but lost. Two armies had been wiped out of existence in three months, and what was left was but a pitiful remnant. Washington's force in the North was so weakened by detaching troops for the defense of the South that he was unable to strike a blow. And now this calamity was the culmination. A murmur broke out in the room. Then, as though galvanized into action by that murmur, John Drayton, who had stood as though petrified, bounded forward with a roar.

"'Tis false," he cried, whipping out his sword. "I'll run any man through who says that my general is a traitor!"

He advanced threateningly toward General Gates as he spoke. He had drawn upon his superior officer, but there was no anger in the glance that Horatio Gates cast upon him.

"Would G.o.d it were false," he said solemnly. "But here are proofs. This is a letter from Congress; this one from General Washington himself, and this--"

"I tell you it is not true," reiterated the boy fiercely. "Look how they've always treated him! It's another one of their vile charges trumped up against him. Daniel Morgan, you were with him at Quebec and Saratoga! Are you going to stand there and hear such calumny?"

Morgan hid his face in his hands and a sob broke from his lips. The sound seemed to pierce Drayton like a sword thrust. His arm dropped to his side, and he turned from one to another searching their faces eagerly, but their sorrowful countenances only spoke confirmation of the news.

"In mercy, speak," he cried with a catch in his voice. "Peggy, tell me truth! Speak to me!"

"John, John, I'm afraid 'tis true," cried Peggy going to him with outstretched hands. "Don't take it like this! Thee must be brave."

But with a cry, so full of anguish, of heartbreak, that they paled as they heard it, Drayton sank to the floor.

"Boy, I loved him too," spoke Colonel Morgan brokenly. "We were both with him on that march to Quebec. And at Saratoga in that mad charge he made. I loved him--"

He could not proceed. Bending over the prostrate lad he lifted him, and with his arm about him drew him from the room. Peggy broke into a pa.s.sion of tears as Drayton's wailing cry came back to her:

"My general! My general! My general!"

CHAPTER x.x.xII-ON THE ALTAR OF HIS COUNTRY

"If you fail Honor here, Never presume to serve her any more; Bid farewell to the integrity of armes; And the honorable name of soldier Fall from you, like a shivered wreath of laurel By thunder struck from a desertlesse forehead."