Peggy Owen, Patriot: A Story for Girls

by Lucy Foster Madison

  CHAPTER XV--HARRIET

  "Whose beauty did astonish the survey Of richest eyes; whose words all ears took captive; Whose dear perfection hearts that scorn'd to serve Humbly call mistress."

  --"All's Well that Ends Well."

  As if she had just become aware of the presence of others the girlturned a startled look upon Peggy.

  "If you are David Owen's daughter, then I am indeed your cousin," shesaid slowly intense surprise in her accents. "And if you are hisdaughter, where is your father, and what do you here? I thought you werein Philadelphia."

  "Father is here," answered Peggy, starting forward eagerly. "And thyfather is----" But David Owen laid a restraining hand upon her arm.

  "A moment, lass," he said, a quick glance flashing between him andGeneral Washington. "Let me speak to the maiden. My child," turning tothe girl who was regarding him intently, "thou wilt pardon me, I know,if I ask thee a few questions. It behooves us to be careful in timeslike these, and we but take precautions that thine own people would useunder like circumstances. Therefore, tell me thy father's name, and hisregiment."

  "By what right do you question me?" she demanded haughtily.

  "I am David Owen," he answered briefly. "If thou art in truth mykinsman's daughter there is no reason why thee should not answer myquestions."

  "Ask what you will, if you are Mr. David Owen, and I will answer," shesaid, her manner changing to one of extreme courtesy. "My father isWilliam Owen, a colonel of the Welsh Fusileers. My brother's name isClifford, and I am Harriet. Do you believe me now, my cousin? Or isthere aught else to be asked?"

  "Nay," replied he mildly. "I believe that thou art truly William'sdaughter."

  "Then may I place myself under your protection, cousin?" she queried soappealingly that Peggy's tender heart could not bear it, and she went toher quickly. "My father wished it, and I am a stranger in a strangeland."

  "Surely thee may," exclaimed Mr. Owen, touched, as his daughter hadbeen, by the pathetic quiver that had come into her voice. "That is"--hehastened to add, "if His Excellency hath no objection?"

  "I have none, Mr. Owen," declared General Washington. "As the young ladyhath proved herself a relative I give her into your keeping. There couldbe no better sponsor for her, sir."

  "I thank thee," said David Owen gravely. "I will see that thy trust isnot misplaced. And now, sir, we have troubled thee o'er long, I fear,and will therefore say good-night."

  "But not until Mistress Owen tells me when she and Miss Peggy, togetherwith this newly found kinswoman, will honor me by their presence todinner. Will you have recovered from the fatigue of your journey byMonday, Madam Owen?"

  "Yes, Your Excellency. It will afford us great pleasure to dine withthee at that time," replied the matron bowing.

  The courtesies of leave-taking over, David Owen led the way to thecoach.

  "Take thy seat with us in the vehicle, my child," he said to HarrietOwen. "I will have thy horse sent after us."

  "And has thee a horse too?" asked Peggy as the girl took her placebeside her. "Then we shall have some famous rides, Cousin Harriet. Andwhat is thy horse's name?"

  "Fleetwood. I brought him from England. He hath been mine from a colt. Ihave never had any other, and he will suffer none to ride him but me."

  "Thee thinks of him as I do of Star," cried Peggy in delight.

  "Didst say, my child," interposed David Owen after the two maidens hadchatted a while, "that thy brother left thee alone in England?"

  "Yes, Cousin David. Clifford hath always been wild for the army, butfather would not hear of his joining it. 'Twas lonesome after fatherleft us, so I did not blame Clifford for leaving. A lad of mettle shouldnot stop at home when His Majesty hath need of him to help put down thisrebellion. Your pardon, cousin. Being English I am all for the king, youknow."

  "Yes," said Mr. Owen, pleased at her frankness. "I like thy manner ofspeaking of it, Harriet."

  "But still, that need be no reason why we should not be friends," shesaid quickly. "There be those at home who think with the colonies, andblame them not for rebelling. It may be that I too shall be of likeopinion after my sojourn with you."

  "It may be, Harriet. Have no uneasiness, my child. If thou art led toour way of thinking it must be of thine own conviction, and not from anyeffort that we shall bring to bear upon thee. Thou art welcome despitethy opinions. And didst thou cross the ocean alone?"

  "Yes; that is," she added hastily, "there was an officer's wife who wascoming to join her husband. I was with her. When father learned that Ihad come, he desired that I should go to you. He was sure that you wouldwelcome me despite the difference in politics. And why are you not inPhiladelphia?"

  "I, of course, am with the army," he replied. "The custom of campaigningonly in the summer hath the advantage of permitting our wives anddaughters to join us in camp during the winter; so my wife and Peggyhave come for that time. Thou wilt like it, Harriet; for there areamusements such as delight the hearts of maidens. I doubt not but boththee and my little Peggy will sorrow when 'tis time to leave it."

  "Harriet must be tired, David," suggested Mrs. Owen kindly. "Should notfurther explanation be deferred until the morrow?"

  "I mind not the talk, madam, my cousin," spoke Harriet, and Mrs. Owennoted instantly that she used Colonel Owen's term of addressing her. "Itwarms my heart for my cousin to talk to me." Again the little tremorcame into her voice as she added: "It makes me feel more at home."

  "Then talk on, my child," said the lady gently.

  So the girl chatted of her father and brother, her home in England, hervoyage across the ocean, and other subjects with so much charm that whenat length the coach drew up before a farmhouse whose sloping roof andlow eaves were but dimly distinguishable in the darkness Peggy foundherself very much taken with this new cousin.

  "I could listen to thee all night, Cousin Harriet," she exclaimed as herfather assisted them from the coach.

  "And so could we all," said David Owen laughing, plainly as much pleasedwith the maiden as was Peggy. "But we are at quarters, and the rules arethat every one must be in bed at tattoo. That will give us just time forsupper."

  And so in spite of the protests of both girls they were sent to bed inshort order.

  The rides began the very next day, and as Harriet seemed to be as muchinterested in the encampment as Peggy, Mr. Owen took them through partof it.

  "'Tis a strong cantonment," he said. "There are seven brigades here inthe vicinity of Middlebrook. The main army lies in the hills back ofBound Brook, near enough to be called into service instantly ifnecessary. The artillery under General Knox lies a few miles away atPluckemin. The entire force of the army is scattered from here toDanbury, Connecticut."

  "But why is it so scattered, my cousin?" inquired Harriet. "Methinksthat 'twould be the part of wisdom to keep the army together?"

  David Owen laughed.

  "Would that thou wert Sir Henry Clinton," he said. "Then all thysoldiers would stay in New York instead of being transferred to theSouthern colonies. 'Tis done for two reasons: the easy subsistence ofthe army and the safety of the country."

  "But doth it not hem Sir Henry in?" she demanded. "How can he getthrough these lines without fighting?"

  "That is just it," said Mr. Owen laughing again. "Thee will soon bequite a soldier, Harriet. Here we are at Van Vegthen's bridge, which isone of three that crosses the Raritan. General Greene, who is acting asquartermaster at present, is encamped here. He hath his quarters in yondwelling which lies to our left. 'Tis Derrick Van Vegthen's house, andye will both meet with him and the general. Mrs. Greene is here, andMrs. Knox. Ye will like them. Let us ride closer. As ye are unaccustomedto camp life 'twill be a novelty to ye to see the men engaged in theirvarious duties. How busy they are!"

  From side to side the maidens turned, eager to see all that Mr. Owenpointed out. Quite a village of blacksmith shops, storehouses and otherbuildings connected with
the quartermaster's department had grown uparound the house where General Greene made his headquarters. On thenear-by elevation, even then called Mt. Pleasant, his brigade wasencamped.

  As Mr. Owen had said, the scene was a busy one. A company of soldierswas drilling on the open parade ground, while of those who were not onduty some chopped wood which had been brought from the near-by hills, ortended fires over which hung large chunks of meat spitted upon bayonets,while still others could be seen through the open flaps of the tentscleaning their accoutrements.

  "I should think those tents would be cold," remarked Peggy with a slightshiver, for although the winter's day was sunlit, the air was chill.

  "They are not o'er comfortable, Peggy," returned her father. "But doesthee not see the huts that are in process of construction? GeneralWashington taught the men how to build them, and they will becomfortably housed ere long. Note that they are built without nails, andalmost the only tools used are the axe and saw. 'Tis most marvelous thatsuch comfortable and convenient quarters can be made with such littleexpense to the people."

  "The marvel to me," remarked Harriet Owen thoughtfully, "is that suchill-clad, ill-fed looking troops can stand against our soldiers. Whyhath not the British swept them down like chaff before the wind? 'Tispast understanding."

  "Because their cause is a righteous one," said David Owen solemnly. "Andbecause, also, what thou art in the way of forgetting, my little cousin:they are of thine own blood, and therefore fight with the spirit ofEnglishmen."

  "English?" she exclaimed. "English! I had not thought of that, mycousin."

  "Consider our case," he said. "Thou art of the same blood as ourselves.Doth it make a difference in the stock because thou dost happen to livein England, while Peggy there lives in America?"

  "I had not thought of it in that way," she said again. "I think theEnglish have not considered it either. I would talk more of the matter,Cousin David, but not now. I have much to think of now. But do you notfear that I shall tell the British about this camp?" added Harrietsmiling.

  "No, my child. Thou wilt not have opportunity," observed Mr. Owen. "Doesthee not know that once being with us there can be no returning to NewYork? There can be no passing and repassing to the city."

  "Oh," she cried in dismay. "I did not know. Can I not return if I shouldwish to?"

  "Not unless thou hadst been away from the army for a long time," heanswered.

  "But suppose, suppose father should come?"

  "Even then thee would have to stay with us until such time that it wasdeemed advisable for thee to return. So thee sees, Harriet, that therebels, as thee calls them, will have the pleasure of thy company forsome time to come."

  "I see," she said. Presently she threw her head back and gave way to apeal of musical laughter. "There is but one thing to do, Cousin David,"she cried. "And that is to become a patriot myself."