Peggy Owen, Patriot: A Story for Girls

by Lucy Foster Madison

  CHAPTER XXXII--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."

  --Faire Quarrell.

  For a time no sound was heard in the room but the sobs of the maiden andthe broken utterances of the men. The tears of the latter were no shameto their manhood, for they were wrung from their hearts by the defectionof a great soldier.

  The friend of Washington and of Schuyler! The brilliant, dashing soldierwith whose exploits the country had rung but a short time since; if thisman was traitor whom could they trust?

  Presently Peggy felt a light touch on her head, and looked up to findGeneral Gates regarding her with solicitude.

  "My child," he said, "I am about to ride into Hillsboro' to confer withGovernor Nash. Will you permit me to be your escort? We must find aresting place for you. You must be weary after this trying day."

  "I am," she replied sadly. "Wearied and heart-sick. Thee is very kind,and I thank thee." She rose instantly, and followed him to the doorwhere the orderly had her horse in charge.

  What a change had come over the encampment. From lip to lip the tidingshad flown, and white-faced men huddled about the camp-fires talking inwhispers. No longer song, or story, or merry jest enlivened the eveningrest time, but a hush was over the encampment such as follows a greatbattle when many have fallen.

  Seeing that she was so depressed General Gates exerted himself to cheerher despondency, leaving her when Hillsborough was reached in the careof a motherly woman.

  "I shall send Lieutenant Drayton to you in the morning," he said as hewas taking his departure. "He will need comfort, child; as we all do,but the boy was wrapped up in Arnold."

  It was noon the next day before Drayton appeared, and Peggy was shockedat the change in him. There was no longer a trace of jauntiness in hismanner. There were deep circles under his eyes, and he was pale andhaggard as though he had not slept.

  "John," she cried, her heart going out to him for his sorrow, "thee mustnot take this matter so. General Washington is left us."

  "Yes," he replied, "but I loved him so. Oh, Peggy! Peggy! why did he doit?"

  "I know not," she answered soberly. "After thee left Philadelphia therewere rumors concerning General Arnold's extravagance. Mother was muchexercised anent the matter. But as to whether that had anything to dowith this, I know not."

  "How shall I bear it?" he cried suddenly. "Who shall take his place? Hadhe been with us there would have been another tale to tell of Camden."

  "That may be, John." And then, seeking to beguile his thoughts from thematter, she added with sweet craftiness: "Thee has not told me how theecame to be down here? Nor yet if thee ever returned to New York Cityafter that trip with the wood? Thee should have seen Cousin Williamafter the failure of the alert. That was why he brought me down here."

  "Tell me about it, Peggy," he replied with kindling interest. And thegirl, pleased with her artifice, related all that had befallen her.

  "And now?" he questioned. "What are you going to do now?"

  "There is but one thing to do, John," she answered, surprised by thequery. "That is, to get home as quickly as possible."

  "I like not for you to undertake such a journey, Peggy. There are moreloyalists in the South than elsewhere, which was the reason the war wastransferred to these states. 'Tis a dangerous journey even for a man.'Tis hard to get despatches to and from Congress, as you know by thedeath of that poor fellow whose letters you carried. I don't believethat your mother would like for you to undertake it."

  "But there is danger in staying, John. No part of the Carolinas is safefrom an incursion of the enemy. 'Tis as far back to the plantation atCharlotte as 'twould be to go on to Virginia, and I want my mother.Friend Hart said that he and his wife would travel slowly so that Icould o'ertake them."

  "Yes; you ought to be out of this," agreed Drayton. "Every part of thiscountry down here is being ravaged by Tories, who seem determined todestroy whatever the British leave. Would that I could take you to yourmother, Peggy, but I cannot leave without deserting, and that I----"

  "Thee must not think of it," she interrupted, looking at him fearfully.

  "And that," he went on steadily without noticing the interruption, "Iwould not do, even for you."

  "That forever settles my last doubt of thee," declared Peggy with anattempt at sprightliness. "I know that thee is willing to do almostanything for me."

  "Yes," he replied. "And now I must go."

  "Shall I see thee again before I leave, John?"

  "When do you start?"

  "In the morning. I waited to-day to see thee."

  "Then it must be good-bye now," he said. "I am to carry some despatchesto General Marion on the morrow, and that will take us far apart, Peggy.I asked for the mission; for I must have action at the present time. Ilike not to think."

  "Don't be too venturesome," pleaded the girl. "We who know thee have noneed of valiant deeds to prove thy merit."

  "I want a chance to distinguish myself," declared the lad. "That, and toprove my loyalty too. All of General Arnold's old men will be regardedwith suspicion until they show that they are true. And now good-bye,Peggy."

  "Good-bye, John," spoke the maiden sorrowfully. "Thee carries mysympathy and prayers with thee."

  He bade her good-bye again, and left. Early next morning Peggy set forthat speed hoping to overtake Mr. and Mistress Hart before the day's end.Her thoughts were busied with Drayton and his grief, and she nowacknowledged to herself the fear that had filled her lest he too shouldprove disloyal.

  "But it hath not even occurred to him to be other than true," she toldherself with rejoicing.

  And so thinking she rode along briskly, and was not long in reaching thespot where they had been stopped by the dying vidette. She gazed at theplace with melancholy, noting that the bushes were trampled as though anumber of men had passed over them. Doubting not but that thisappearance had been caused by the soldiers who had been sent for thebody, which was indeed the fact, the girl sped on rapidly, trying not tothink of all that had occurred in the past few days.

  Peggy had been sure of her bearings up to this time, for she hadtraversed the highway twice to this point, but from this on she wasconfronted by an unfamiliar road. So it happened that when directly shecame to a place where the road diverged into two forks, she drew rein inbewilderment.

  "Why," she exclaimed, "I don't know which one to take. What shall I do?How shall I decide, Star?" appealing to the only living thing near.

  Hearing her name the little mare neighed, tossed her head, and turnedinto the branch of the roadway running toward the South, just as thoughshe had taken matters in hand for herself. Peggy laughed.

  "So thee is going to decide for me, is thee?" she asked patting thepony's neck. "Well, we might as well go in this direction as the other.I know not which is the right one. I hope that we will come to a housesoon where I may ask."

  But no dwelling of any kind came in sight. The afternoon wore away, andthe girl became anxious. She did not wish to pass the night in thewoods. The memory of that night so long ago when she and Harriet hadridden to Amboy was not so pleasant that she wished to repeat theexperience. But Star sped ahead as though familiar with hersurroundings. At nightfall there was still no sign of either Joe Hartand his wife, or sight of habitation.

  "I fear me we have lost our way, Star," she mused aloud. "I wonder whatwe'd best do? Keep moving, methinks. 'Tis the only way to reachanywhere."

  Peggy tried to smile at her little sally, but with poor success. Thepony trotted ahead as if she at least was not bewildered, and presently,to the girl's amazement, of her own accord turned into a lane that wouldhave escaped Peggy's notice. To her further astonishment at
a shortdistance from the highway stood a woodman's hut, and the mare pausedbefore the door.

  "Why, thou dear creature!" cried Peggy in delight. "It seems just asthough thee knew the way."

  She dismounted, and with the bridle over her arm approached the cabinalmost gaily, so greatly relieved was she at finding a shelter. A womancame to the door in answer to her knock, and opened it part way.

  "What do you want?" she asked harshly.

  "A lodging for the night, friend," answered the maiden, surprised bythis reception, for the people were usually hospitable and friendly.

  "How many air you?" was the next question.

  "Myself alone, friend," replied Peggy, more and more amazed. "I wishfood and a stable for my pony also. I will pay thee for it," she addedwith a sudden remembrance of the money that Henry Egan had given her.

  "Well, come in." The door was opened, and the woman regarded hercuriously as she entered. It was but a one-room hut, and a boy of twelveappeared to be its only occupant aside from the woman. He rose as thegirl entered, and went out to attend the horse.

  "Do you want something to eat?" asked the woman ungraciously.

  "If thee pleases," answered Peggy, ill at ease at so much surliness. Thewoman placed food before her, and watched her while she ate.

  "Where air you all going?" she asked presently.

  "To Philadelphia, in the state of Pennsylvania," explained Peggy, whohad found that many of the women in the Carolinas were but ill-informedas to locations of places.

  "Is that off toward Virginia?"

  "I must go through Virginia to reach there," said the girl.

  "You're going wrong, then," the woman informed her. "You air headed nowfor South Carolina."

  The girl uttered a cry of dismay.

  At this moment the urchin reentered the hut, and whispered a moment tohis mother. Instantly a change came over her. She turned to Peggy with aglimmer of a smile.

  "Air you a friend?" she asked.

  "Why, yes," answered Peggy, thinking naturally that she meant the sectof Quakers. "I should think thee would know that."

  "You can't always tell down here. Sam says that you air riding Cap'nHazy's horse. It used to stop here often last summer."

  "Then that was why the pony brought me here," cried the girl insurprise. "I was lost. How strange!"

  "Why, no. Horses always go where they are used to going," said thewoman, in a matter-of-fact tone. "That is, if you give 'em their head.When is the cap'n coming?"

  "How should I know?" asked Peggy, staring at her. "I don't----"

  "We air friends, miss. You needn't be afraid to say anything you like.But you air right. Keep a still tongue in these times. 'Tis safest. Andnow, I reckon you'd like to go to bed?"

  "Yes, if you please," answered the maiden, so amazed by the conversationthat she welcomed the change for reflection. Was Captain Hazy theBritish commander of the foraging party who had come to the plantation,she wondered. It occurred to her that it might be wise to accept herhostess's advice to keep a still tongue.

  There was but one bed in the room, and this was given Peggy, while themother and son simply lay down upon the floor before the fire, which wasthe custom among mountaineers. Without disrobing the girl lay down, butnot to sleep. She was uneasy, and the more she reflected upon herposition the more it came to her that she had been rash to start outalone as she had done.

  "But I won't turn back now," she decided. "I will take some of the moneywhich Friend Henry gave me, and hire some one to take me home. 'Tis whatI should have done at first."

  At the first sign of dawn she was astir. The woman rose at the sametime, and prepared her a hot breakfast.

  "Now you just go right down that way," she told Peggy, as the maidenmounted her pony, indicating the direction as she spoke. "That'll takeyou down to the Cross Creek road. Ford the river at Cross Creek, and youwill be right on the lower road to Virginia."

  Peggy thanked her, gave her a half guinea, and departed. Could she havefollowed the direction given she would, as the woman said, have been onthe lower road to Virginia, but alas, such general directions took noaccount of numerous crossroads and forkings, and the maiden was soon ina maze. That night she found a resting-place at a farmhouse where theaccommodations were of a better nature, but when she tried to hire a manfor guidance not one seemed willing to go.

  "They were needed at home," they said. "There were so many raidingparties that men could not be spared." Which was true, but dishearteningto Peggy.

  In this manner three days went by. At long distances apart were housesof some description, and many ruins, some of them smoldering.

  On the afternoon of the third day Peggy was riding along slowly,thoroughly discouraged, when all at once from the dense woods that linedthe roadway there emerged the form of a horseman.

  He was hatless and disheveled in appearance, and he surveyed the road asthough fearful of meeting a foe. As his glance fell upon the maiden heuttered an ejaculation, and dashed toward her.

  "Peggy," he cried staring at her in amaze, "what in the world are youdoing down here in South Carolina? I thought you in Virginia by thistime."

  "I would not be surprised if thee told me that I was in Africa,"answered poor Peggy half laughing, half crying. "I started for Virginia,but took a wrong turning, and seem to have kept on taking them eversince. I don't want to be down here, but no one will come with me toguide me, and I always go wrong on the crossroads."

  In spite of the gravity of the situation Drayton, for it was he,laughed.

  "Nay," he said, "let me believe that you came down here to help medeliver my despatches to Marion. I will have to take you in charge. Letme think what to do. I have it! There is a farmhouse where Whigs arewelcomed near here. You shall stay there until these papers aredelivered, and then we shall see if something can't be arranged."

  "Oh, thank thee, John," cried she, mightily relieved. "'Tis so nice tohave some one to plan. I shall do just as thee says, for I begin tobelieve that I am not so capable as I thought."

  "These winding roads are enough to confuse any one," he told her. "Youare not alone in getting lost, Peggy. Some of the soldiers do too, ifthey are not familiar with localities."

  Cheered by this meeting, Peggy's spirits rose, and she chatted gaily,not noticing that Drayton kept looking behind them, and that hefrequently rode a little ahead, as though he were on the lookout.

  "What is it?" she asked at length becoming aware that something wasamiss. "Is there danger, John?"

  "Yes, Peggy. South Carolina is full of British, you know. I must watchfor an ambush. I would not fail to deliver these despatches foranything. They are important, and as I told you the other day, all of uswho were under Arnold will be suspected until tried."

  Peggy grew pale. "I did not know there was danger, John. Doth mypresence increase your anxiety?"

  "'Tis pleasure to have you, Peggy, but I would rather you were inVirginia for your own safety. However, we shall soon turn into a sideroad which will lead to that farmhouse I spoke about. I could no longerget through the woods, or I should not have left them for the highway.But had I not done so I would not have met you. 'Tis marvelous, Peggy,that you have met with no harm."

  "Why should I meet with any?" she queried. "I am but a girl, and canbring hurt to none."

  Drayton drew rein suddenly, and listened.

  "We must make a run for it, Peggy," he cried. "The British are coming. Igave them the slip a while ago, but I hear them down the road. If we canreach the lane we may escape them."

  Peggy called to Star, and the boy and girl struck into a gallop. It wassoon evident, however, that Drayton was holding back his horse for Peggyto keep pace with him. As Peggy realized this a whoop from the pursuerstold that they had caught sight of them, and the clattering hoofs thatthey were gaining upon them.

  "John," she cried, "go on! Thee can get away then."

  "And leave you, Peggy? Never," he answered.

  "But thy despatches? Thee just told me they must be de
livered. Thee mustgo on."

  "No," he replied with set lips.

  "'Tis thy duty," she said imploringly.

  "I know, but I'm not going to leave you to the mercy of those fiends,"he cried.

  "John, thee must not fail. See! they are gaining. Go, go! Does theeremember that thee will be suspected until thee is tried?"

  "I know," he said doggedly, "but I won't leave you."

  "For thy country's sake," she entreated. "Oh, John, I can't have theefail because of me. Think of that poor vidette. Is thee going to do lessthan he? 'Tis thy duty."

  "Peggy, don't ask it," he pleaded.

  "Thee is less than soldier if thee doesn't do thy duty," she cried,quick to see her advantage. "John Drayton, I will never trust thee againif thee fails in thy duty now."

  The two young people gazed at each other through the dust of the road,the girl with earnest entreaty, determined to keep the lad to his dutyin spite of himself, and the youth torn by his fear for her and hisloyalty.

  "Go," she cried again. "I am a soldier's daughter. Would I be worthy thename if thee failed because of me? Go at once, or 'twill be too late."

  "I'm going, Peggy," he said with a sob. "I'm going to do my duty even ifyou are the sacrifice. Take this pistol, and defend yourself. Good-bye."He bent and kissed her hand, and then without one backward glance wentflying down the road and disappeared around a bend. For duty to countrymust come before everything, and father, mother, brother, sister, wifeor sweetheart, must be sacrificed upon its altar, if need arises.

  There was a smile on Peggy's lips, for Drayton had kept to his duty inspite of as great a temptation as ever assailed a man to do otherwise,and so smiling she turned to meet the pursuers.