Peggy Owen at Yorktown

  CHAPTER XXIX--"I SHALL NOT SAY GOOD-BYE"

  "How beautiful is death when earned by virtue! Who would not sleep with those? What pity is it That we can die but once to save our country."

  --Addison's Cato.

  "He is to die at sunrise." The announcement came with such suddennessthat for a moment no one spoke. Peggy stood as though stricken. ColonelOwen was the first to recover himself.

  "Suppose that you unravel the matter from the beginning," he suggested."'Twill be the better understood. Do I hear aright that you were themeans of discovering his duplicity?"

  "It was I of a truth," answered Clifford speaking rapidly. "I nevertrusted him; so, while the rest of you made much of him and received himinto your confidences, I kept my eyes open. For a long time no act ofhis justified suspicion, and it did seem as though distrust wasgroundless. And then, 'twas just after we entered camp here at Yorktown,I came upon him one night in the woods south of the Moore House. He waspretty far afield, so I spoke to him sharply. He laughed, and said thatthe heat had made him sleepless, and that he preferred the air to thecloseness of his quarters. I said no more, but resolved to double mywatch of him. This I did, and three times have I seen him leave campwithout permit. Confiding my fears regarding the reason for suchabsences to Lieutenant Bolton we followed him last night, and ourvigilance was rewarded. Drayton met one of Lafayette's men, and we wereclose enough to them to hear him repeat the orders issued by LordCornwallis yesterday to Lieutenant-Colonel Dundas concerning somemovements which were to take place from Gloucester Point, and alsoimpart other important information.

  "Fearful lest some untoward incident might contribute to his escape welet him return unmolested to the camp before apprehending him. Hislordship is quite cut up over the matter, and hath commended me publiclyfor my alertness. He hath also," concluded the youth proudly, "placedthe prisoner in my entire charge, leaving all proceedings in the affairto be arranged by me. There will be no flaw in carrying out thesentence, I promise you."

  "And all this time, while I have thought him disloyal, he hath beentrue, true!" cried Peggy brokenly. "Oh, I should have known! I shouldhave known!"

  "And he is in your charge, Cliff?" asked Harriet. "My, but you arecoming on! Father will have to look to his laurels."

  "You are o'er young, my son, to have the management of so serious anaffair," remarked Colonel Owen gravely. "Lord Cornwallis likes youngmen, and hath favored them upon many occasions when 'twould have beenbetter to give preference to older men. However, if you see that hisconfidence is not misplaced we shall all be proud of you."

  "Have no fear, sir," said Clifford pompously. "I have placed theprisoner in a small cottage where there is no possibility of holdingcommunication with any one. He is not only well guarded, sir, but I havethe door locked upon the outside, and I myself carry the key. Even LordCornwallis could not see him without first coming to me. Oh, I haveprovided well against any miscarriage of justice."

  "Thee must let me see him, Clifford," spoke Peggy abruptly. "I shallnever know peace unless I have his forgiveness. Thee will let me seehim, my cousin?"

  "What you ask, Peggy, is utterly impossible," answered Clifford. "Heshall not have one privilege. A spy deserves none. 'Twas not my desirethat the execution should be deferred until morning. There should be nodelay in such matters. Spies should be dealt with summarily."

  "You forget, son, that doctrine of that sort works both ways," observedhis father, smiling at the youth's important air. "We have spies of ourown in the enemy's lines. Too great harshness of dealing will beretaliated upon our own men."

  "Clifford," cried Peggy going to him, and laying her hand upon his armpleadingly, "does thee not remember how he spared thee? He could haveslain thee when he had thee at his mercy. Thee will not refuse me onelittle hour with him, my cousin."

  "I shall not grant one minute," returned he sternly. The look which shehad seen when he refused to greet Harriet until satisfied of her loyaltycame now to his face. "He shall not have one privilege."

  "'Twould be inhuman not to permit it, Clifford. 'Tis not justice theeseeks, but the gratifying of thine own rancor toward him."

  "She is right, my son," spoke Colonel Owen. "You lay yourself open tothat very charge. To guard closely against escape is right. To takeevery precaution against the miscarriage of the sentence is duty. But torefuse a small privilege is not only against the dictates of humanity,but 'tis impolitic as well. The vicissitudes of war are many, and by sadfortune you might find yourself in the same condition as this youngfellow. 'Tis the part of wisdom to grant what one can in such cases."

  "Captain Williams needs no instructions as to his duty, sir," returnedClifford hotly.

  Colonel Owen laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

  "I had forgot," he said ironically. "I cry you pardon. Captain Williams,of course, is conversant with the entire code of civilized warfare. Ishall say no more." He arose and left the apartment.

  "Clifford, thee must let me see John," urged Peggy with feverishinsistence. "A little time is all I ask. It could not matter, nor makethe least difference in carrying out thy duty. One little hour,Clifford!"

  "Say no more," he cried harshly. "I will not permit it."

  "Thee shall, Clifford Owen." Peggy's own voice grew hard in theintensity of her feeling. "I have never asked favor of thee before, andyet thee is indebted to me. Have I not cared for thee in illness? Theehas said that thee would try in part to repay what thee owed me. This isthy opportunity. When thee was about to die among strangers I came tocomfort and console thee in thy last hours. Wilt not let him have a likeconsolation? Clifford!" Her voice broke suddenly. "Thee will let me seehim."

  "No," he responded inexorably. "Where are you going?" he asked abruptlyas the girl turned from him with determination written on hercountenance.

  "I am going to Lord Cornwallis," answered Peggy. "I shall lay thismatter before him, and show him that 'tis not zeal which animates theein the discharge of thy duty, but private hatred. I make no doubt butthat he will accord me permission to see John."

  "I make no doubt of it either," ejaculated the boy savagely. He was wellenough acquainted with his chief to know that a demand made by sowinsome a maiden would be granted. "Come back here, Peggy. I'll let yousee him. I don't care to have Lord Cornwallis, or any one else, mixed upin our private affairs. But mind! it will only be for one hour."

  "Thank thee, Clifford. 'Tis all I ask," she said sorrowfully. "When willthee take me to him?"

  "So long as it has to be, it might as well be now," he told her sulkily."Are you ready?"

  "Yes, Clifford."

  "And the dinner, good people?" broke in Harriet. "Am I not to bepleasured by your company?"

  "The dinner can wait," exclaimed her brother shortly. "We'll get thisbusiness over with."

  Too intent upon her own feelings to give heed to the dourness of the ladPeggy followed him silently as he strode from the house. In all herafter life she never forgot that walk: the glare of the sun; the softtouch of the breeze which came freshly from the sea; the broad expanseof the river where it melted into the broader sweep of the bay; thefrigates and shipping of the British lying in the river below, and aboveall the heaviness of her heart as she followed her cousin to the placewhere John Drayton awaited death.

  Eastward of the village, on its extreme outskirts stood a small onestory house with but one window and a single door. It was quite remotefrom the other dwellings of the town, and the tents of the army layfurther to the east and south so that it practically stood alone. Amulberry tree at some little distance from the house afforded the onlyrelief from the blazing August sun to be found in that part of thevillage. Two sentries marched to and fro around the hut, while a guard,heavily armed, sat just without the threshold of the door. Cliffordconducted the girl at once to the entrance. The guard saluted and movedaside at his command.

  SHE STEPPED INTO THE ROOM]

  "You shall ha
ve just one hour," said the youth, unlocking the door. "Ishall call when 'tis time."

  Peggy could not reply. In a tumult of emotion she stepped into the oneroom of the hut. The air was close and the heat almost intolerable afterthe freshness of the sea breeze outside. Coming from the dazzling glareof the sun into the darkened interior she could not see for a moment, sostopped just beyond the door, half stifled by the closeness of theatmosphere. When the mist cleared from her eyes she saw a small roomwhose only furniture consisted of a pine table and two chairs. Draytonwas seated with his back toward the entrance, his head resting upon hisarms, which were outstretched upon the table. The maiden advanced towardhim timidly.

  "John," she uttered softly.

  The youth sprang to his feet with an exclamation of gladness.

  "Peggy," he cried. "Oh, I did not hope for this."

  "I had to see thee," she cried sobbing. "Oh, John, John! thee was loyalall the time, and I doubted thee. All these weeks I doubted thee."

  "'Tis not to be wondered at, Peggy," he said soothingly, seeing howdistressed she was. "Appearances were against me. But why should youthink that General Arnold had aught to do with it? I could notunderstand that."

  "He had asked for thy address, John," she told him through her tears."And he said that thee would be fighting with him before two months hadpassed. When I saw thee in that uniform I thought at once that he hadsucceeded in wooing thee from thy duty." In a few words she related allthat had passed between her and the traitor. "Can thee ever forgive me?"she concluded. "And did I hurt thee much, John?"

  "It's all right now, Peggy," he said with a boyish laugh. "But I wouldrather go through a battle than to face it again."

  "Why didn't thee tell me, John?"

  "For two reasons: First, the redcoats swarmed about us, and 'twould nothave been safe. Second, you were with your cousins, and I knew thatClifford at least would be suspicious of me--particularly so if you werenot distressed over my desertion. 'Twas best to let you think as youdid, though I was sorely tempted at times to let you know the truth. Ithought that you would know, Peggy. I was surprised when you didn't." Itwas his only reproach,

  Peggy choked.

  "I ought to have known, John. I shall never forgive myself that I didnot know. Was it necessary for thee to come?"

  "Some one had to, and the Marquis wished that I should be the one. Yousee, he could not understand why Cornwallis faced about, and made forthe seaboard. He did not have to retreat, but seemed to have some fixedpurpose in so doing that our general could not see through. Nor couldany of us. The Marquis sent for me, and explained the dilemma, sayingthat he needed some one in the British camp who could get himtrustworthy intelligence on this and other things. The service, hepointed out, was full of risk but of inestimable value. I should beobliged to be with the enemy for a long time. It might be weeks. If Iwere discovered the consequence would be an ignominious death. Of courseI came. When there is service, no matter the nature, there are not manyof us who are not glad to undertake it."

  "But to die?" she gasped.

  "I shall not pretend that I don't mind it, Peggy," went on the youthcalmly, but with sadness. "I do. I would have preferred death in thefield, or some more glorious end. Still, 'tis just as much in theservice of the country as though I had died in battle. Were it to bedone again I would not act differently."

  "Thee must not die, John," she cried in agonized tones. "Is there noway? No way?"

  "No, Peggy. I would there were. I'd like to live a little longer.There's going to be rare doings on the Chesapeake shortly. Let mewhisper, Peggy. 'Tis said that walls have ears, and I would not that anyof this should reach Cornwallis just at present. 'Tis glorious news. TheMarquis hath word that the French fleet under the Count de Grasse hathsailed from the West Indies for this bay. 'Twill bring usreinforcements, beside shutting Cornwallis off from his source ofsupplies. His lordship hath not regarded the Marquis seriously as anadversary because of his youth, and so is fortifying leisurely while ouryoung general hath encompassed him in a trap. He is hemmed in on allsides, Peggy.

  "Wayne is across the James ready to block him should he try to retreatin that direction; the militia of North Carolina are flocking to theborder to prevent the British commander cutting a way through that stateshould he get past Wayne. The Marquis is in a camp of observation atHolt's Forge on the Pamunkey River ready to swoop down to Williamsburgon the arrival of the fleet. General Nelson and the militia of thisstate with Muhlenberg's forces are watching Gloucester Point. Best ofall,--lean closer, Peggy,--'tis whispered that Washington himself may cometo help spring the trap. He hath led Sir Henry into the belief that heis about to attack New York, and my Lord Cornwallis feels so secure herethat he expects to send his chief reinforcements to help in its defense.If the French fleet comes, the end of the war comes with it. Ah, Peggy!if it comes."

  "Thee must live, John," cried she excitedly. "Oh, thee must be here ifall this happens. Help me to think of a way to save thee."

  "I have done naught but think since I was brought here, Peggy. If Icould get past that guard at the door there would be a chance. But whatcan I do with a locked door? I have no tools, naught with which to openit. There is no other entrance save by that door and that window. No;"he shook his head decidedly. "'Tis no use to think, Peggy. The end hathcome."

  "And how shall I bear it?" she cried.

  "'Tis for the country, Peggy." He touched her hand softly. "We must notfalter if she demands life of us. If we had a dozen lives we would laythem all down in her service, wouldn't we? If I have helped the causeever so little it doth not matter that I die. And you will let theMarquis know what hath happened? And General Greene? I am glad you came.It hath sweetened these last hours. I'll forgive Clifford everything forpermitting it. You are not to grieve, Peggy. If I have been of help tothe cause in any way it hath all been owing to you. I have in very truthbeen your soldier."

  "Peggy!" came Clifford's voice from without the door. "Time's up!"

  "Oh, John," whispered Peggy, white and shaken. "I can't say good-bye. Ican't----"

  "Then don't," he said gently leading her to the door. "Let us take alesson from our French allies and say, not good-bye--but au revoir." Thenwith something of his old jauntiness he added: "Wait and see what thenight will bring; perhaps rescue. Who knows? Go now, Peggy."

  "We were speaking of rescue," he said smiling slightly as Clifford,fuming at Peggy's delay, entered the room. "I have just said that weknow not what a night will bring forth, so I shall not say good-bye, butau revoir."

  "You will best say good-bye while you can, Sir Captain," growledClifford. "You will never have another chance. Come, my cousin."