CHAPTER XX--A REGRETTED PROMISE
"Not for counsel are we met, But to secure our arms from treachery, O'erthrow and stifle base conspiracies, Involve in his own toils our false ally----"
--"Count Julian," Walter Savage Landor.
For one long moment there was a silence so tense that the breathing ofthose present was plainly audible. Peggy had become very pale, but shemet the searching glance which General Washington bent upon hersteadily.
"Did you ever give him a note, letter, or communication of any kind?" heasked at length.
"Yes," she answered. "I gave him a letter to send through the lines afew days since. It was Third Day afternoon, as he hath said."
"You?" cried John Drayton springing toward her, and there was anguishand incredulity in his voice. "You? Oh, Peggy!"
"Yes," she said again clearly. "Has thee the letter, John? Give it tothe general. He will see that there was naught of harm intended."
But Drayton shrank back and covered his face with his hands.
"Have you the missive, ensign?" demanded the commander gravely. "If solet me see it."
"She, she doth not know---- It cannot be. Oh, sir, do not look at theletter, I beseech you," uttered young Drayton brokenly.
"The letter, Drayton." There was no mistaking the command in the tone.The boy drew the letter from his sword belt, and handed it to thegeneral.
"There is some mistake," he said, and Peggy was surprised to see thathis eyes were wet. "Sir, I entreat----"
"Take your prisoner to the outer room, ensign," ordered the chief afterreading the note. "Meantime, may I ask that all of you will leave mewith the exception of this girl?" He indicated Peggy as he finishedspeaking.
Silently the men filed out, but Harriet lingered, her eyes fixed uponPeggy with so much of appeal that the latter tried to smilereassuringly.
"You must go too, Miss Harriet," he said, and Harriet was forced toleave the room.
In all of Peggy's life never had she felt the fear that now came uponher. At all times reserved in his manner and his bearing full ofdignity, never before had she realized the majesty of GeneralWashington's august presence. In the past when others had called himcold and austere she had denied such qualities warmly, but now as shefound him regarding her with a stern expression she began to trembleviolently.
"And to whom was your letter sent?" he asked after a painful pause.
"To Sir Henry Clinton, sir."
"And what would you have to say to Sir Henry Clinton?" he demanded,plainly astonished.
"I?" Peggy looked at him quickly. "Why, I did not write it, FriendWashington."
"You did not?" It seemed to Peggy that his glance would pierce her verysoul, so keen was his scrutiny. "If you did not, who did?"
"Read the letter," implored she. "Read it, sir. 'Twill explaineverything."
"I have read it," he made answer. "Do you wish me to do so again?"
"Yes," she said, a vague apprehension stirring her heart at his manner.
Slowly and impressively he read aloud without further comment: "Acertain personage spends a portion of every clear afternoon upon thesummit of Chimney Rock, which I have told you stands nigh to BoundBrook. Fording the Raritan at the spot already designated could be donewithout fear of the sentry, and the personage captured with but littlerisk. Without him the army would go to pieces, and the rebellion ended.Further particulars contained in other letters forwarded by S."
"Oh!" gasped Peggy her eyes widening with consternation. "That is notthe note I sent, Friend Washington. Does not that mean thee and thycapture?"
"Yes," he said. "There seem to be plots and counterplots for theleaders. What is behind all this? I am loth to believe that you wouldwilfully connive at either my capture, or anything that would bring harmto the cause."
"I would not, I would not," she told him earnestly, amazed andbewildered at the thing that had befallen her. "I would do naught thatwould injure the cause. And thee---- Why, sir, I would rather die than actof mine should bring thee harm."
"I believe you," he said. "Your past actions show you have the bestinterests of your country at heart. But you are shielding some one," hesaid leaning toward her suddenly. "Who is it? Were it not for the factthat your cousin discovered so much zeal in warning Governor Livingstonand the garrison at Elizabethtown I should say that 'twas she. But wereshe guilty she would not have warned the governor, and would have triedto prevent you from doing so." He looked straight into her eyes as thegirl with difficulty repressed an exclamation. "Who is it?" he askedagain.
But Peggy could only stare at him unable to speak. In that moment thetruth had come to her, and she saw the explanation of everything.Harriet had deceived her and all of them, from the beginning. A blaze ofanger swept her from head to foot. Was the daughter, like the father,only seeking to work them harm?
"Who is it?" repeated General Washington, watching her intently, andseeing that she was shaken by some emotion.
"It was----" she began, and paused. She had promised only that morningthat she would not tell that Harriet had given her the note. Could shebreak her word? Had she not been taught once a word was passed 'twas asacred thing, and not to be lightly broken? She looked at him inanguish. "I want to tell thee," she burst forth, "but I have promised. Ihave promised."
"But you thought the contents of this note were different, did you not?You did not know that it contained a hint of a plan for my capture?"
"No," she answered. "I did not know."
"Then you were tricked," he declared. "By shielding this person, orpersons, you expose the entire camp to other plots which may prove moresuccessful than these last have been. Do you still consider your wordbinding under the circumstances?"
"I have been taught," she said, her eyes full of trouble, "that havingonce passed my word it must be kept. Friends do not take oath as othersdo, but affirm only. Therefore, we are taught, that once given one'sword must be abided by so that it will be as stable and as much to berelied upon as an oath."
"But do you not see, Mistress Peggy, that your refusal to disclose thename of the person places you under suspicion?"
"I am a patriot," she asserted, pleadingly, "loyal and true to mycountry. I have ever striven to do what I could."
"Yes; but by your own confession you have given a note to this man, whosays that 'tis this very one. We have only your word that 'tis not so.Then, too, you were alone when the warning note was found. It was notsoiled nor trampled upon as it would have been had it lain there long.Child, you place yourself under suspicion."
"I see," she said miserably.
"'Tis a cruel necessity of war to use spies," he went on, "but allarmies show them small mercy when they are caught. And it should be so.The man, woman, or girl even, acting as one does so at the risk oflife."
Peggy started. He had used almost the same words that John Drayton hadused the day they had seen the swinging body of the spy. A shudder shookher. Again she saw the swaying form dangling from the tree. Small mercywas shown a spy. Could she condemn Harriet to such a fate? BeautifulHarriet with her wonderful eyes!
"Friend Washington," she cried brokenly, "thee does not believe that Iwould injure thee, or my country, does thee?"
"What am I to think, Miss Peggy?" he asked, ignoring her outstretchedhands.
"Give me a little time," she cried. "Only a little time. Oh, I am sorebeset. I know not what to do."
"Child," he said with compassion, "I am thinking of a time when a younggirl came to me through winter's snow and cold to plead for the life ofher father. Do you remember what she said when I told her that I couldnot exchange a spy for him, valiant though the deeds of that father hadbeen? She said, 'I know that thee must refuse me. Thee would be false tothy trust were thee to do otherwise.' Hath my little maiden whose answerso warmed my heart with its patriotism that I have never forgotten it,changed so that now she shields a spy? I cannot believe it."
"Thee pr
esses me so hard," she cried wringing her hands. "Let me have alittle time, I entreat thee. It could not matter to let me have untilto-morrow. Just until to-morrow, Friend Washington."
He gazed at her thoughtfully. Her anguish was so apparent that nonecould help being touched. That there was much behind it all was veryevident, and so presently he said:
"You shall have until to-morrow, Mistress Peggy. 'Tis against allprecedent, but for what you have done before I will grant your request.But there will be no further delay."
"Thank thee, sir," said she weeping. "I will ask none." She spoketimidly after a moment. "What am I to do, sir? Thee will not wish me tostay for dinner if I am under suspicion."
"Yes," he said. "Let all go on as before until the matter is unraveled.Can you compose yourself sufficiently to wait upon Mrs. Washington? Thedinner hour hath come."
As Peggy replied in the affirmative, he called an orderly, and gave himsome directions, then escorted the maiden into the dining-room. TheQuaker habit of self-control enabled the girl to bear the curiousglances cast at her pale face, but the dinner was a trying ordeal. Shehad grown to love the gay circle that gathered at the table, and tocount a day spent with the brilliant men and women as one to beremembered; to-day she was glad when the time came for her to go home.
Harriet had been very vivacious all through the afternoon, but as theyset forth accompanied by the same aide who had escorted them to themansion she relapsed into silence. It had been Peggy's intention to tellthe whole story to her father and mother in Harriet's presence as soonas she reached home, but there was company in the drawing-room, and asshe stood hesitating what to do her mother hastened to them.
"How tired you both look," she cried in alarm. "To bed ye go at once.Nay, David," as Mr. Owen entreated a delay. "'Tis early, I know, but toomuch excitement is not to be endured. And both girls will be the betterfor a long sleep. So to bed! To bed!"
And with some reluctance on the part of both maidens they went slowly upto the little chamber under the eaves.
Peggy Owen, Patriot: A Story for Girls Page 22
