Peggy Owen at Yorktown

  CHAPTER XXVII--PEGGY RECEIVES A SHOCK

  "Chains are round our country pressed, And cowards have betrayed her, And we must make her bleeding breast The grave of the invader."

  --Bryant.

  Harriet, with her chestnut hair flying in a maze of witching ringlets,her eyes starry with radiance, came dancing to meet them as they enteredthe house which Colonel Owen had taken for his use.

  "Father told me that you had come," she cried embracing Peggyrapturously. "Is it not delightsome that we are all together at last,Peggy? Here are father, Clifford, you, and last, but not least, yourmost humble and devoted servant, Mistress Harriet Owen. Oh, I am sohappy! And why did you run away, you naughty girl? Still, had you notdone so I should have missed seeing father and the army."

  "I was trying to get home," answered Peggy, forgetting her weariness inadmiration of her cousin's beauty, and wondering also at herlight-heartedness.

  "Home to that poky Philadelphia, where tea and rusks, or a morning visitare the only diversions?" laughed Harriet. "You quaint little Quakeress,don't you know that now that the army hath come we shall have routs,kettledrums, and assemblies to no end?"

  "Be not so sure of that, Harriet," spoke her brother. "Lord Cornwallisis not so inclined toward such things as is Sir Henry Clinton. He ischiefly concerned for this business of warfare."

  "On the march, I grant you, Clifford, but when the army camps there arealways pleasurings. 'Twas so at Charlestown, and Camden, and 'tis thecase in New York. We shall have a gay time, Peggy."

  "Suppose, Harriet, that you begin giving our cousin a good time bytaking her to a room where she may rest," suggested the youth. "Do younot see that she is greatly fatigued? The march hath been a hard one."

  "She does indeed look tired," remarked Harriet glancing at Peggycritically. "Come on, Peggy. I'll take you to our room. 'Tis much largerthan the one we shared at Nurse Johnson's."

  And so chatting she conducted the weary girl to a large, airy chamber onthe second floor of the dwelling, leaving her with reluctance at lengthto seek the rest of which Peggy stood so much in need.

  Meanwhile, much to the consternation of the citizens of Williamsburg,the entire army marched in and took possession of the little city.Cornwallis seized upon the president's house at the college for hisheadquarters, forcing that functionary with his family to seek refuge inthe main college building. As the origin of the institution was sothoroughly English, and it had remained in part faithful to the mothercountry, he caused it to be strenuously guarded from destruction, orinjury of any sort. Indeed, this attitude had been maintained toward thecollege by all the English throughout the war.

  Officers of the highest rank followed the example set them by theircommander, and seized upon whatever dwelling pleased their fancy,sometimes permitting the rightful owners to reserve a few rooms fortheir own use; more often turning them out completely to find shelterwherever they could. The men of minor rank took what their superiorsleft, while the rank and file camped in the open fields surrounding thetown. Parties were sent out daily on foraging expeditions, and once moreYork peninsula was swept by the devastating invader.

  Of all that occurred in the five days that succeeded the army's entryinto the city Peggy knew nothing. She was so utterly worn out that shedid not leave her room, and alarmed by this unusual lassitude in herColonel Owen insisted that she should keep to her bed. By the end of theweek, however, she felt quite herself again, and resolving to seek NurseJohnson without delay, she arose and dressed herself.

  "I must tell her of Fairfax," she thought as she went down the stairs tothe drawing-room. "It hath been unkind in me to keep the poor womanwaiting so for news of her son, but I have in truth been near toillness. I know not when my strength hath been so severely tried. Peggy,thee must display more fortitude. I fear thee has a long wait beforethee ere thee shall behold thy home again, and thee must call forth allthy endurance to meet it. Megrims have no place in thy calendar, Peggy."

  Thus chiding herself she reached the drawing-room where Colonel Owen satwith his son and daughter.

  "'Tis quite time you came down, my little cousin," cried the colonel asshe entered the room. "Clifford here hath been importuning me to have asurgeon, to dose you with Jesuit's bark, and I know not what else.Zounds! the boy hath shown as much solicitude as if it had been Harriet.I had hard work to convince him that all you needed was rest."

  "Clifford hath been most kind, Cousin William," she said. "And so haveyou all. I could not have been more tenderly cared for at home. Fatiguewas all that ailed me, however, and I have now recovered from that."

  "Come! that's good news," cried William Owen. "And now you shall hearsomething of great import. This son of mine hath quite puffed me up withpride. It seems that Earl Cornwallis wished some boats and stores of therebels on the Chickahominy River destroyed, and all the cattlethereabouts brought in for the use of the army. He detailed ColonelSimcoe to accomplish the matter. Now mark, Peggy! what does this sameColonel Simcoe do but ask for Captain Williams, Captain Williams,understand, to accompany him, avowing that he was one of the mostpromising young officers in the army. It seems also that a littleskirmish took place between the rebels and Simcoe's forces in which acertain Captain Williams particularly distinguished himself. Egad! Ihear encomiums on all sides as to his conduct. Would that his commissionwas in his own name!"

  "And what do you think, Peggy?" exclaimed Harriet before Peggy couldmake reply to her cousin. "Your old friend----"

  "Harriet," interrupted Clifford warningly. "We agreed not to speak ofthat."

  "What is it, Clifford?" asked Peggy turning to him with alarm. "Hath anyof my friends met with injury? Hath any been made a prisoner? Orwounded? Or--or killed?"

  "No," he told her kindly. "None of these things has happened. One ofyour friends took part in the engagement which father has justmentioned. There occurred an incident after the melee which was curious,but 'twas nothing that should concern you. I would rather not tell youabout it. You will know it soon enough."

  "If none of those things happened," she said relieved, "there is naughtelse that I care about if thee does not wish me to know. Was thy sidethe victor, my cousin?"

  "Yes; though I understand that the rebels claim it also. The loss wasquite heavy on both sides for so small an action. You are arrayed forthe street, Peggy? Are you going out?"

  "To Nurse Johnson's, Clifford. I saw her son while away, and she wouldbe glad to have news of him," Peggy explained frankly. "I ought to havegone before this."

  "I would not go elsewhere, and I were you," he said. "Harriet and I aregoing for a short ride after parade. Would you like to accompany us?"

  "Yes," she replied. "I will not stay long, Clifford."

  Peggy started forth with this intention, but it took some little time toreach the cottage so filled were the streets with troops. It seemed tothe girl that every foot of ground held a red coat. When she at lengtharrived at the place it was to find Nurse Johnson out. She would soon beback, she was told, so the girl sat down to wait for her. Finally thegood woman made her appearance, but there was so much to tell that itwas high noon before the visit was ended.

  "I shall miss the ride," mused Peggy passing quickly through the tinyorchard to the gate which opened on Palace Street. "I hope that mycousins won't wait for me, or that they will not be annoyed. Why, John!"

  For as she turned from shutting the gate she came face to face with JohnDrayton.

  "Is thee mad," she cried, "to venture here like this? 'Tis certaindeath, John."

  "Is anything liable to happen to a fellow who wears such a garb as thisin a British camp?" he asked indicating his clothes by a carelessgesture.

  Peggy's glance swept him from head to foot. He was clad in the uniformof a British officer, and seemed not at all concerned as to his safety.An awful suspicion clutched her, and again her gaze took in every detailof that telltale unif
orm. Then her eyes sought his face and she lookedat him searchingly, as though she would read his very soul. Suddenly sheleaned forward and touched the red coat fearfully.

  "What doth it mean?" she whispered, all her apprehension and doubtcontained in the query.

  Over Drayton's face swept a swift indescribable change at her words. Hedrew a deep breath before answering, and when he spoke his voice held aharshness she had never heard before:

  "What doth such a thing usually mean, Peggy?"

  "Not, not that, John," she cried piteously. "Thee can't mean what thatuniform says. Thee can't mean that, John?"

  "Just that," he answered tersely.

  With a low cry she shrank from him, her eyes wide with horror.

  "A deserter! Thou?" she breathed.

  "Even I, Peggy."

  All the color left her face. She swayed as though about to fall, butwhen Drayton put forth his arm to support her she waved him back. For along time Peggy stood so overwhelmed that she could not speak. Then shemurmured brokenly:

  "But why? Why?"

  "I will answer you as I did his lordship," replied the youth clearly."When he asked that same question, I said: 'My lord, I have served fromthe beginning of this war. While my commander was an American it was allright, but when I was sent here to be under a Frenchman I thought ittime to quit the service.'"

  "And is that all thy reason?"

  "Is it not reason enough, Peggy?"

  "No," she cried passionately. "It is not. Oh, I see it all! Thee hasheard from General Arnold."

  "Why should you think that?" Drayton regarded her queerly. "What wouldhearing from him have to do with my desertion?"

  "Everything," she answered wildly. "He hath wooed thee from thyallegiance, as he said he would. 'Twas on this very spot that he boastedthat not two months would pass before thee would be fighting by hisside. And I defended thee because I believed that naught could turn theefrom thy country. Why look thee, John! how short hath been the timesince thou wert made a captain! For valor, thee said, at Hobkirk'sHill."

  "That was under Greene," he made answer. "He is not a frog-eatingFrenchman."

  "Yet that same Frenchman hath left country and family to give hisservices, his money, his life if necessary to help an alien people intheir fight for liberty. And thee cannot fight under such a man because,forsooth, he is French. French," with cutting scorn, "who would notrather be French, English, German, or aught else than an American whowould desert his country for so small a thing?"

  "Don't, Peggy," he pleaded. "It--it hurts."

  "And I have been so proud of thee," she went on unheeding his plea, hervoice thrilling with the intensity of her feeling. "So proud of thee atMiddlebrook, when thee was spoken of as a lad of parts. So proud whenGeneral Washington himself said he wished the whole army had thy spirit.I treasured those words, John Drayton. And again I have been proud ofthy conduct in battle, and for all thy career, because I thought of theeas my soldier. Oh!" she cried with passion, "I would rather thee haddied in battle; and yet, from the opening to the close of every campaignI have prayed nightly that thee might be spared."

  Drayton adjusted his neck ruffles, and swallowed hard.

  "Peggy," he said. "Peggy----" and paused.

  "I think my heart will break," she sobbed; and with that last cry sheleft him standing there.