Peggy Owen and Liberty

by Lucy Foster Madison

  CHAPTER XXIII

  A LITTLE HUMOR DESPITE A GRIM SITUATION

  "Alas! regardless of their doom, The little victims play! No sense have they of ills to come, No care beyond to-day."

  --_Gray._

  The great clock of the State House was striking ten, the next morning,as Peggy emerged from the west entrance of the dwelling, and, basketin hand, went down the steps of the terrace into the gardens.

  It was a lovely day. The sky was blue with June's own cerulean hue,and across its depths floated the softest of fleecy white clouds. Theair was fresh and balmy, and tinged with the honeyed sweetness of redroses. With basket and shears the girl wandered from bush to bush,cutting the choicest blossoms. That her mind was not on her task wasmanifest by the fact that ever and anon she paused, shears in hand,and became absorbed in thought. In this manner she sauntered throughthe grassy paths and graveled alleys until she came at length to thefence which separated the garden from Fifth Street. Peggy stoppedhere, and gazed thoughtfully across at the State House, as she waswont to do in the early years of the war.

  "What will the Congress do?" she mused. "Would that I could see intothat east room! Will they listen to Harriet, I wonder? And the people!how many there are in the square. What makes them cluster about thegrounds so?"

  The State House Square was in truth filled with groups of men whostood about talking earnestly. It was the custom of the citizens ofPhiladelphia to do this when any exciting event occurred, or when anystirring measure was before the Congress. Peggy's curiosity as to thecause was therefore natural, but there was no one near who couldgratify it, so she turned reluctantly from the fence, and resumed hertask of cutting the roses. Abstractedly she worked, oblivious to hersurroundings, when all at once the sound of flying feet brought herback to reality. Startled she turned to see Sally Evans runningtoward her from under the trees.

  "I have just heard about Clifford, Peggy," cried Sally, flingingherself upon her friend. "Mr. Deering told me. I thought that I shouldfind thee here, or some of thy people. Oh, Peggy! Peggy! that itshould be Clifford."

  "Yes," replied Peggy sorrowfully, as she returned the embrace. "'Tisdreadful."

  "And what is thee going to do anent it? Why, Peggy Owen! surely theehasn't been coolly picking flowers?"

  "I had to do something, Sally, to while away the time until they comeback," apologized Peggy meekly. "Waiting is trying when so muchdepends upon the issue."

  "Whatever is thee talking about?" demanded Sally bewildered. "Sit downhere under this tree, Peggy, and tell me all about everything. Whomdoes thee mean by they?"

  "Father and Harriet, Sally. They have gone over to see the Congress tosee if aught can be done for Clifford."

  "Harriet?" ejaculated Sally. "I thought that Harriet was in New YorkCity with her father. How did she come here?"

  "I'll tell thee all about it," answered Peggy, sinking down besideSally under a tree. Forthwith she told her friend everything that hadhappened since leaving Philadelphia, beginning with the meeting withHarriet on the road to Lancaster, and ending with the journey back tothe city after Clifford had been chosen as the unfortunate victim.Sally listened attentively.

  "Oh!" she breathed when Peggy had concluded her narrative. "And doesthee think the Congress will do anything for him, Peggy?"

  "I fear not," answered Peggy sadly. "Father hath little hope of it,but Harriet will leave naught undone that promises the least relief.If Congress does nothing, we are to go on to General Washington. Inany event Harriet will go to New York to see the British general."

  "Well, General Washington ought to do something," cried Sally. "Hehath a kind heart, and it does seem awful to hang Clifford when he hadnaught to do with Fairfax's death. Doesn't thee think he will?"

  "Sally," spoke Peggy earnestly, "there is but one thing that can saveClifford Owen: that is for the English commander to give up CaptainLippencott. That he hath heretofore refused to do."

  "Oh, Peggy! then thee believes that he must die?" came from Sally in asob.

  "I am afraid so, Sally. Clifford himself thinks there is no hope."

  For a time Sally sat very still, then she spoke softly:

  "Peggy!"

  "Yes, Sally."

  "Did thee tell Clifford about me? How I did not betray him to SheriffWill?"

  "I tried to, but he would not listen. Harriet took him to task for it,Sally. She told him that if thee said thee did not betray him, theedidn't." And Peggy related all that had passed regarding the matter.

  "Then he will die believing that I was a false friend to thee, andthat I betrayed him who was a guest of my hospitality," remarked thegirl mournfully. "Oh, 'tis bitter to be misjudged! 'Tis bitter!" Andto Peggy's astonishment she burst into tears.

  "Why, Sally! I did not know thee cared so much," cried Peggy.

  "I--I don't," flashed Sally. "At least, not much. 'Tis only--only thatI do not like to be misjudged. And I've never been given so much as achance to defend myself. Oh, dear!" dabbing her eyes viciously withher kerchief as she spoke, "I don't suppose they can help it, but ofall stubborn, unreasonable creatures on this earth I do thinkEnglishmen are the worst! I'd just like one chance to tell CliffordOwen so."

  "Well, why doesn't thee?" asked Peggy suddenly.

  "Peggy!" Sally sat up very straight and stared at her. "Just what doesthee mean?"

  "Just what I say, Sally. He is at the Bunch of Grapes. If thee wishesto see him I will take thee there. Then thee can have thy chance."

  "But--but----" The color flooded Sally's face from brow to chin.Presently she laughed. "Well, he couldn't run away from me, could he?He would have to listen. I'll do it. 'Twill be the last opportunity Ishall ever have of clearing myself. I would not dare do it only,being bound, he cannot help but listen. Come, Peggy!"

  "Bound?" exclaimed Peggy amazed. "What put such a notion in thy head,Sally? He was not when we came from Lancaster."

  "That was because he was riding. 'Tis only since he entered the city.Did thee not know that the Minister of War hath charge of him now?'Tis he who hath insisted upon extra precautions being taken onaccount of the Tories. 'Tis talked everywhere on the streets, Peggy,that he is bound."

  Peggy instantly became troubled.

  "That would be severe treatment," she said. "Methought 'twasunderstood that he was to be granted every indulgence consistent withhis safe-keeping. I like not to think of him being bound. Let's go,Sally."

  Quickly they made themselves ready, and then proceeded to the Bunch ofGrapes Tavern in Third Street. Sally alternated between timidity andassurance.

  "With the shadow of death upon him he ought to wish to right everyinjustice that he hath done," she remarked as they reached the inn.

  Peggy caught sight of Major Gordon just then, and did not reply.Instead she called to the British officer. He came to them instantly.

  "May we see Captain Williams for a few moments, sir?" she asked.

  "I'll see, Miss Peggy," he answered. "You know, of course, that he isguarded more stringently here than he was on the road, but I thinkthere can be no objection to his friends seeing him."

  "Tell him 'tis his cousin, Margaret, and----"

  "Don't thee tell him who is with thee, Peggy." Sally's whisperedadmonition was plainly audible. She had all at once become fearful."If he were not bound I would not dare venture in."

  A puzzled look crossed Major Gordon's face. He turned to her quickly."May I ask why you would not venture in unless he were bound?" heasked.

  "Because," uttered Sally blushing, "if he isn't bound he will notlisten to what I have to say. I want to explain something that heought to know. He would never listen before; now he cannot helphimself."

  A violent fit of coughing seized the officer, preventing him fromreplying. Presently recovering he cleared his throat, and left themprecipitantly. He was gone but a few moments.

  "You may see him for a short time, ladies," he reported. "This way."

  They followed him into a large room situ
ated at the end of a longhall. The first thing the girls saw was Clifford, who was halfsitting, half reclining in a chair. And his feet and hands were woundabout with cords. Peggy felt a catch in her throat as she saw it,while Sally turned white to the lips. The room was scantily furnished,and several dragoons lounged about, but for all their apparentnegligence they never for one moment ceased to regard their prisoner.The youth himself looked wan and haggard. He greeted Peggy with markedpleasure.

  "And where is Harriet, my cousin?" he asked.

  "She hath gone with father to see the Congress," replied Peggy. "Andhere is Sally, Clifford. 'Tis for her sake that we have come. Shewishes to speak with thee."

  "You wish speech with me, Mistress Sally?" questioned he coldly."Wherefore?"

  "Thee is to die," burst from Sally with emotion. "I could not bear forthee to die believing that I had betrayed thee."

  "I am to die, yes," he said with settled calm. "What have such thingsto do with me?"

  "Everything," she answered shrilly. "If I had to die, Clifford Owen, Ishould want to right whatever of injustice I had done, were itpossible to do so. And thee has been unjust to me. I have come hopingthat now thee will listen to my explanation. Thee wouldn't hear Peggy,thee wouldn't hear Mr. Owen, but now thee will listen to me, won'tthee?"

  "I don't see how I can help myself, mistress," he responded grimly."Seeing that my hands are bound, I cannot stop my ears."

  And at this Peggy marveled anew. Closely guarded the youth had beenall the way into Philadelphia. Major Gordon had spoken of an increasein vigilance since entering the city, but to bind him! Americans werenot usually so unkind. The change in treatment puzzled her.

  "Why should they bind thee?" ejaculated Sally in reply to Clifford."'Tis cruel!"

  "I thought that you wished me bound, Miss Sally," he observed gravely.

  "We-ell! I don't wish thee bound, Friend Clifford, but thee would notlisten to me unless thee were. Do--do the thongs hurt thee very much?"

  Now when an exceedingly pretty girl pities a man for any discomfort heis undergoing it would be an abnormal being who did not get out of itall that he could. And Sally, with her hair escaping from under hercap in soft little tendrils, her blue eyes wet with tears ofcompassion like violets drenched with dew, made a bewitching picture.So Clifford pulled a long face, and said lugubriously:

  "It's pretty bad, mistress."

  "Oh!" she cried. "I wish I could help thee. 'Tis monstrously cruel touse thee so! Yet thee would not listen to me if thee were not bound;would thee?"

  "Perchance 'twould be best to take advantage of the fact, and tell mewhat you have come to say," he suggested with the hint of a smile.

  And rapidly Sally told him how the wretched mistake had occurred whichled him to disbelieve her truthfulness. She told also of the Counciland what had happened before it. All this part he had heard from Mr.Owen, though he did not tell her.

  "And now," she ended with a deep sigh of relief, "thee knows at lastjust how the matter was."

  "Well? And what then?" Clifford was smiling now. "Now you wish me toacknowledge how wrong I was, I suppose?"

  "Nay," spoke Sally rising. "I did not want anything except for thee tohear the facts. 'Twould be too much to ask of an Englishman to admitthat he was wrong. 'Tis a national characteristic to persist inwrong-doing, and wrong believing even when the right is made plain.Had this not been the case we should not have had to go through allthese weary years of fighting."

  "'Fore George, Mistress Sally, but you hit from the shoulder! Now hereis one Englishman who is going to prove that you are mistaken. It wasunjust of me to believe that you could be capable of treachery. Icrave your pardon most humbly. I believe that you did your best tohelp me last spring. These past few days, since I have known thatdeath is so close, have made me look differently at many things. Ifyou think of me at all in future, Miss Sally, let it be as gently asyou can."

  He rose as he finished speaking, lightly throwing aside the cords thatconfined his wrists and ankles, and held out his hand to her with hismost winning smile. Much moved Sally placed her hand within his; then,with an exclamation, she withdrew it suddenly.

  "Why!" she cried. "Why, thee isn't bound at all!"

  "No? Well, you see I understood that you would not dare to come inunless I was bound. Of course, rather than cause you annoyance I hadto pretend to be so."

  The youth was laughing now, and Peggy, mightily relieved to find thatsuch harsh treatment was not to be accorded him, laughed also. Not soSally. She stood regarding him with eyes in which slowly grew anexpression of pain and scorn.

  "Now you aren't going to hold it against me, are you, Miss Sally?" hepleaded.

  "When I asked thee if the bonds hurt, thee said, 'Pretty bad,'" statedSally, her manner full of accusation.

  "I did," he admitted.

  "It was not true," she cried. "And thee is to die! To die, and yetthee could stoop to trickery! Oh, how could thee do it? Thou art underthe shadow of death. I would rather a thousand times that thee wouldhave remained the obstinate Englishman that I deemed thee than to knowthat thee could do this."

  With that she flung up her head, and without another glance in hisdirection went swiftly out of the room.