CHAPTER XXI
CHOSEN BY LOT
"Sound to arms! Call in the captains,-- I would speak with them! Now, Hope! away,--and welcome gallant Death!"
--"_Cataline," Croly._
Enjoy Harriet's presence Peggy did. Never had the English maiden beenmore charming. Her vivacity, her endless sallies of wit and humor, andher unfailing store of anecdotes rendered her irresistible. Peggy hadalways been her mother's assistant in the household but now, quite tothe amazement of both mother and daughter, Harriet insisted uponhelping.
"I have been a guest long enough," she laughingly protested in answerto Mrs. Owen's remonstrance. "Father declares that you are anexcellent housewife, madam my cousin. He would be pleased indeed tohave me learn of you. Beside," she added with a most charming blush,"I dare say that I shall have a house of my own to look after someday; so 'tis quite time that I knew something of housewifery."
And marveling greatly at this change in the once indolent Harriet,Mrs. Owen took the girl forthwith under her wing, and spent longhours instructing her in the mysteries of housekeeping. But the timewas not all devoted to labor. There were lighter hours in which themaidens took daily rides. There was also much dining about among theofficers, their families, and the neighboring gentry of the town andneighborhood. As the weather became warmer picnics followed in thenear-by woods, so that there was no lack of diversion. In thesepastimes Clifford was an almost constant attendant. Mr. and Mrs. Owenhad pressed him to become an inmate of their home, which, being onparole, he was at liberty to do, and he had accepted. The young peoplemade a lively household, and it seemed to Peggy that it was thehappiest time that she had enjoyed since the long, grim, weary yearsof fighting had begun. So the days sped pleasantly and May passed, andJune with all its riotousness of roses was upon them.
One warm June morning the family gathered in the pleasant, low-ceileddining-room for breakfast. Harriet, attired in a wash dress wellcovered by a vast apron, flushed and rosy, stood at the head of thetable.
"I have cooked every bit of the breakfast myself," she declaredproudly. "Cousin David, if you and Clifford don't do justice to it Ishall take it as a personal affront."
"No wonder the breakfast is an hour late," murmured Clifford to Peggyas they sat down. "I do think she might have invited Major Dale, orthat Yankee captain, instead of making us her victims."
"Clifford!" pouted his sister. "You are really trying. Madam my cousinhath said that I can bake and brew almost equal to Peggy, so you willhave no need of simples after eating. Now does not that strawberrytart look tempting?"
"It does indeed, lass," observed Mr. Owen. "Peggy will have to look toher laurels if you can get up such a meal as this. Come, come,Clifford! the proof of the pudding lies in the eating. Fall to, lad!"
"My death will be upon your head, Harriet," observed her brother withsuch a sigh of resignation that Peggy could not help but laugh. "I dowish John Drayton were here."
So with jest and laughter the family lingered over the meal, as ifloath to make further exertion in the growing heat. In the midst ofthe cheer the knocker sounded, and, as though in answer to Clifford'swish, the door swung back quietly, and John Drayton entered. Peggysprang up at sight of him.
"Thee is just in time, John," she cried gaily. "Clifford was justwishing for thee. I'll lay a plate for thee."
"Clifford?" Drayton's tones were filled with astonishment.
There had been a sort of tacit truce established between the youngfellows, but the feeling between them was such that for either toexpress desire for the other's company was cause for wonderment.
"Strange, is't not?" queried Clifford dryly. The insolence which hecould not keep out of his voice whenever he addressed Drayton creptinto it now. "You see, sir, my sister hath cooked this meal, and I waswishing for other victims than Cousin David and myself."
"Knowing to whom Miss Harriet is indebted for her knowledge of cookeryI have no fears regarding results," remarked Drayton, with a slightbow in Mrs. Owen's direction. "Miss Harriet, that strawberry tartlooks enticing. I should be obliged for a liberal helping."
Clifford flushed angrily at Drayton's words, but he had the grace torefrain from further remark. After all Captain Drayton ate but little.He trifled with the food, and was distrait and plainly ill at ease.Usually he enjoyed a tilt of words with Clifford, but after the firstcrossing of lances he said but little.
The meal was over at length, and Drayton faced them as he rose fromthe table.
"I have a most painful duty to perform," he said unsteadily. "I feellike a thief in the night sitting here listening to your innocentmirth, knowing what I must do."
"What is it, John?" asked Mr. Owen, as they all turned wonderinglytoward the captain startled by his seriousness. "We know," hecontinued kindly, "that thou wouldst do naught that would bedisagreeable for any of us were it not in the line of duty. Speak out,lad."
"I am come to take Clifford back to the barracks," spoke Drayton,unconsciously using Clifford's given name.
"But why?" asked Clifford quickly. "I have passed my word not to tryto escape. And I am 'Clifford,' sir, only to my friends."
"I beg your pardon, Captain Williams," spoke Drayton courteously. "Ispoke without thinking." He passed his hand across his brow as thoughin doubt how to proceed, then he began to speak rapidly: "All of youknow how poor Fairfax Johnson met his death at the hands of theloyalists in New Jersey. Well, we have been able to obtain nosatisfaction from the enemy for the outrage which they acknowledge wasunjustifiable; so Congress hath determined to select an officer fromamong the English prisoners who shall be executed in retaliation forJohnson's death.
"Therefore, thirteen officers from among the prisoners of war havebeen ordered to report at the Black Bear Tavern this morning in orderthat a victim may be chosen for retaliation. Captain Williams is amongthose so ordered to report."
A long moment of silence followed this announcement. Drayton'sdistress was plainly visible. The stillness was broken by Harriet.
"And why, sir," she said sharply, "should my brother be among thosewho are bidden to report?"
"On account of his rank, Miss Harriet," he returned. "Johnson was acaptain, so eight captains and five lieutenants make up the thirteenofficers. The victim should be as near the rank of Captain Johnson aspossible."
"It is according to the rules of war," spoke Clifford Owen clearly."The Americans but act according to their rights. We should do thesame. I am ready to accompany you at any time, Captain Drayton."
"You shall not, Clifford," shrieked Harriet, throwing her arms abouthim. "John Drayton is but one. We can overpower him, and you canescape."
"Break my parole!" he ejaculated, horrified. "My sister, you know notwhat you say."
"And after all, he may not be the unfortunate one, Miss Harriet,"spoke Drayton with an attempt at consolation. "There are thirteenfrom among whom the choice is to be made."
David Owen roused himself.
"True, there are thirteen," he murmured. "Would it be permitted, John,that I go with the lad?"
"Yes, Mr. Owen." John Drayton's eyes were full of compassion. "Noundue rigor is to be used in carrying out orders, though of course fewspectators will be allowed."
"And a place must be found for me," cried Harriet. "Do you think I canstay here and not know whether my brother is to be killed, or not?"
"We can't do it, Miss Harriet." Drayton's voice was inflexible. "Itwould upset all arrangements to have a woman present. It cannot bedone. Come, Captain Williams."
Clifford was the calmest among them as he bade them farewell. Harrietwas too agitated to do more than wring her hands continually.
"It will be he, I know it will," she cried as Mr. Owen and JohnDrayton disappeared from view, Clifford walking between them.
"We must hope for the best, my child," said Mrs. Owen trying tocomfort her. But Harriet could only say over and over:
"I know that it will be Clifford." She was walking up and down thefloor as she utt
ered the words again and again. Suddenly she paused,and held out her hand to Peggy: "Come!" she said. "I am going to thattavern."
At a sign from her mother Peggy went to her. Harriet clasped Peggy'shand tightly in her own, and all through the trying scene thatfollowed never once did she let it go. Without thought that they werestill in their morning dresses, and without stopping for hats thegirls hastened into the street.
A hush seemed to have fallen upon the town. There were groups ofpeople clustered about everywhere talking in subdued tones of the actof reprisal that was about to follow. Retaliation had been the demandof every patriot since the inhuman and lawless murder of FairfaxJohnson. No American prisoner was safe so long as the act wasunrequited. At length Congress had taken measures whereby a victimshould expiate the outrage upon the Jersey captain. So the citizensstood on the corners talking to each other almost in whispers of whatwas going on at the tavern. Peggy and her cousin passed themunheedingly.
In the yard of the inn twenty dragoons stood waiting the result, readyto take the unfortunate victim off to New Jersey for immediateexecution. There were many others standing about; some on the piazza,others in the corridors, all awaiting the result of the meeting whichwas taking place in a room of the tavern.
Once only some one tried to bar their entrance, but Harriet turnedsuch a look upon the man that he slunk away abashed, and theyproceeded unmolested. Through the corridor they passed to the stairs.Here they met the wife of the landlord.
"Ye can go no further, young ladies," she said, her ample formblocking their progress. "There is an important meeting up-stairs, andno one is allowed up there."
"Madam, you must let me go," burst from Harriet. "My brother is one ofthe men from whom the victim is to be chosen. Do, do let me be where Ican at least hear what is going on."
The girl was so lovely in her distress that only for a moment did thewoman hesitate, then she turned abruptly. "Follow me," she said,"Bless your pretty face, I could not refuse such a request as that.But you must make no noise. You must just listen."
"Yes, yes," spoke Harriet feverishly. "That is all we ask."
"The meeting is in there," said the woman pausing before a door. "Yeare to go in here, where there is a door between the rooms. Ye canhear very well there. Now, remember: no noise."
"Yes, yes," spoke Harriet again. "Come, Peggy." And into the room theyhurried.
At first they heard nothing but distant echoes, as of closing doorsand people hurrying in and out of rooms. These noises resoundedthrough the passages, and gave a note of unusual commotiondown-stairs. Presently the distant sounds ceased, and out-of-doors allwas quiet too. All at once the hum of voices in the adjoining roomcame to them. Harriet went swiftly toward the closed door, and beforePeggy realized what she was about to do, the girl had opened it.
So intent were the men in that other room that they did not notice theopening of the door, nor did they turn their heads as the faces of thegirls appeared in the entry way. Brigadier-General Hazen, who hadcharge of the post at Lancaster, was speaking, and all eyes were fixedupon him.
On one side of a long table which stood in the center of the room satthe thirteen young officers from whom the victim was to be selected.Back of them stood the British Major Gordon. A little apart stood Mr.Owen and Robert Dale with the officer of the dragoons. On the side ofthe table opposite the unfortunate thirteen were John Drayton and thecommissary, with two little drummer boys. The scarlet coats of theBritish made a pleasing note of color against the buff and blue of theContinentals.
"That this drawing may be as fair as possible," General Hazen wassaying, "it has been deemed best that the names of the thirteenofficers shall be placed in one hat; in another hat shall be placedthirteen slips of paper of the same size, all of them blank save oneon which is written the word, 'unfortunate.' These drummer boys areto draw out the slips simultaneously from the hats. The name drawn atthe same time that the word unfortunate is drawn will be the victimselected. Gentlemen, I have only to say that no one can regret moredeeply than I the course events have taken. Captain Drayton, will youand the commissary take the hats?"
Amid a silence so profound that a pin could have been heard to fallthe two officers took the hats, and stood holding them on the tablewhile the drummer boys began the drawing. Into Peggy's mind dartedThomas Ashley's words:
"'There shall be retaliation, Hannah. Eye for eye, tooth for tooth,life for life.'"
She started as though some one had spoken. Retaliation! Was this whatit meant? That another innocent life should be taken? How horrible andbloody a thing is war! Because some one else hath committed a crimemust another pay the penalty? One, two, three, four, five. Five namesdrawn. And Clifford's name not yet. Not yet. Her breath came gaspinglybut strangely quiet as that other room was no one noticed it. Harrietwas clutching her hand so tightly that it ached for hours afterward,but at the time neither girl knew it.
Six, seven, eight, nine! And still Clifford's name had not beencalled. Harriet bent forward as the boy drew the next slip:
"Captain Williams," he read clearly.
And from the other, hitherto so silent, sounded at the same time aword that fell upon the ear like a knell of doom:
"Unfortunate!"
And then from every American as well as every Englishman present therebroke a sob. That is, from every man except Clifford Owen. He was veryquiet, very composed, but his gaze was turned upon John Drayton asthough he expected triumph at the result. But tears were running downDrayton's face, and Clifford's own countenance softened as he saw it.Once before Peggy had heard strong men weep. Then it had been over thedefection of a brilliant soldier; now they wept that a fresh younglife must be given in reprisal. Once, twice, General Hazen had triedto speak. At last he laid his hand upon Clifford's shoulder, andturning to the officer of the dragoons, said huskily:
"This gentleman, sir, is your prisoner."
But at that Harriet, who had stood as though stunned, gave a greatcry, and ran to Clifford:
"My brother! My brother! My brother!"
Peggy Owen and Liberty Page 23
