"Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro,
And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress,
And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago
Blushed--at the praise of their own loveliness."
--Byron.
Instantly the little town was all commotion. From every quarter men came
running in answer to the call, ready to defend their homes from the
invader; while women huddled together in groups, or gathered their
treasures and fled with them to the forest. Mustered at length, the
militia, pitifully few in numbers, sallied forth to meet the enemy. From
the southward came the strains of martial music as the British
approached, and mothers, wives, and sisters waited in breathless
suspense the result of the encounter.
The sound of a few shots was borne presently on the breeze, followed by
the rush of running men, and the militia which had marched forth so
bravely but a short time before, came flying back, panic stricken.
"There are thousands of them," cried the panting men. "We could not
stand against the whole British army." On they ran, while from the other
direction came the first division of Major-General Phillips' army, the
Queen's Rangers, under Lieutenant-Colonel Simcoe, which marched in with
drums beating, and colors flying.
At the first alarm Peggy had paused abruptly, hardly knowing what to do.
Her first impulse had been to return to the cottage, but remembering
that Fairfax was with the militia, and Nurse Johnson somewhere about the
hospital, she hesitated. As she did so there came a peremptory voice
from the bed:
"Mistress Peggy!"
"Well, my cousin?" Peggy went back to Clifford reluctantly.
"Are my people truly coming?"
"They seem to be," answered the girl.
"And where were you going?"
"I really don't know," answered she. "I would be alone at Nurse
Johnson's cottage, which I would like not. Solitude is conducive to
fear, and I wish ever to present a brave front in the presence of the
enemy. I shall remain somewhere about the hospital by necessity."
"Stay by me," he said.
"But thee has hardly ceased telling me that thee does not want me near
thee?" cried the girl opening wide her eyes in surprise.
"I have not changed my opinion concerning the matter," he said grimly.
"But I am an English officer, and the safest place for you is by my
bedside. Therefore, mistress, I command you to sit here by my bed."
"I don't want thy protection," began Peggy hotly. "I think I prefer thy
soldiers."
"Did I want your nursing?" he demanded savagely. "No, I did not; yet was
I compelled to submit to it. And while I did not desire your attendance,
still you have attended me. For what purpose I know not, nor doth it now
matter. The fact remains that I am under an obligation of which I would
be quit. I will requite whatever of service you have rendered me by
procuring exemption from pillage or annoyance for both yourself and the
friends with whom you are staying. Sit you here beside me, Mistress
Peggy, and bide the result."
"Clifford Owen," retorted the maiden so bitterly angry that she could
scarcely speak, "were it not for those friends who have been so kind to
me, I would die rather than accept aught from thy hands. But because of
them I will take whatever of favor thee can obtain for us. But 'tis
under protest. Under strong protest, I would have thee understand."
"So?" he said. "That is quite as it should be."
For one long instant the two gazed at each other. The lad's whole
appearance betokened the keenest enjoyment of the situation. He looked
as though he had received a draught of an elixir of life, so animated
and strong did he appear.
Peggy, on the contrary, found no pleasure in the state of things. She
was as near blind, unreasoning wrath as her gentle nature ever came. Had
it not been for Nurse Johnson and her son, she would have left her
cousin's bedside forthwith. As it was she sat down beside him in
anything but a meek frame of mind.
The streets of the little city thronged with the red coats of the
British, and they took possession of public buildings, dwellings, and
shops as though they were masters returning to their own.
It was not long before several soldiers under the leadership of an
officer made their appearance in the hospital. Rapidly they went through
the rooms searching for British prisoners among the wounded and sick
inmates. There was no rudeness nor annoyance of any sort offered to
either the American sick, or their white-faced nurses. As they
approached his bed Clifford sat up stiffly, and gave the officer's
salute.
"Ha!" cried the English officer. "What have we here?" and he paused
beside him.
"I am Captain Williams, of the Forty-eighth Regiment, sir," declared
Clifford with another salute. "I have been a prisoner with the enemy
since the last week of February."
"Ha! yes; I remember. Taken at Westchester while on private business for
Sir Henry Clinton," said the other.
"The very same, sir. And this," indicating Peggy, "is my cousin,
Mistress Margaret Owen, of Philadelphia, who hath been put to no small
inconvenience by my illness. She hath nursed me back to health, or at
least until I am on the road to recovery. For the sake of whatever
service I have been able to render General Sir Henry Clinton, I beg you
to see that neither she, nor any of the inmates of the house where she
dwells, be subjected to annoyance. She hath also a pony, I believe, of
which she is very fond. Wilt see that it is exempted from impressment?
It is needless to say that any favor rendered me in the matter will not
go without recompense."
A significant glance was exchanged between the two which Peggy did not
notice. What she did see, however, was that the officer saluted in turn,
saying pompously:
"Whatever you desire in the matter, captain, will be done. If the young
lady will come with me to show me the house I will at once put a guard
on the premises. I promise that she will suffer no annoyance of any
sort."
As Clifford spoke of her as his cousin, Peggy felt a quick revulsion of
feeling. It was the first time he had so called her. Then, as he openly
acknowledged his indebtedness to her nursing, the girl's anger toward
him died away. After all, she thought, the lad was doing his best to
repay her for what she had done. That he was doing it from a desire to
be quit of the obligation did not matter in the least. She knew now how
he had felt during the time when he had submitted to her attentions, and
a sense of justice made her aware that he was acquitting himself
handsomely. And so as she rose to accompany the officer to the cottage,
she said humbly:
"I thank thee, my cousin. I will not forget thy kindness in the matter."
A puzzled look came into the youth's eyes at her changed demeanor, but
he merely gave a slight bow, and motioned her to go on with the officer.
But Peggy was not yet through with him.
"May I come again to attend thee?" she asked in a low tone. "Thee is not
well yet, thee must know."
"Yes," he said. "Come, and you will, mistress. I will not mind your
ministrations so much now."
And in much better spirits than she had deemed possible a few moments
before the girl accompanied the officer to the cottage. Nurse Johnson
came to the door wringing her hands as they neared the entrance.
"There will be naught left, Peggy," she said despairingly. "The soldiers
are in the house now stripping it of everything. 'Twill be a mercy if
the house is left."
Before Peggy could make reply the officer removed his cocked hat, bowing
courteously.
"That shall be stopped immediately, madam," he said. "War is not a
gentle thing, and sometimes suffering must fall upon even our friends.
In this case, however, your inconvenience will be short."
The good woman had not recovered from her bewilderment at this speech,
ere he pushed past her into the house, and they heard him reprimanding
the looting soldiers sharply.
"What doth it mean, child?" she gasped as every article taken was
restored to its place, and a guard mounted before the dwelling. "Why are
we so favored when our poor neighbors are faring so ill?"
"'Tis Clifford," Peggy told her. "He insisted that my friends and I
should not be subjected to annoyance by his people as a return for
nursing him."
"Well, of all things!" exclaimed the nurse. "And you thought he did not
like you!"
"He doesn't, friend nurse. He made sure that I should understand that
his feeling toward me had not changed, but he felt that he was under an
obligation of which he would be quit. Still," a little gleam came into
Peggy's eyes as she spoke, "he did think that he would not mind my
ministering to him so much now."
"Of course not," laughed Nurse Johnson. "He will think it his due now.
Isn't that like an Englishman? But I am very thankful none the less,
though I see not how he could do other than he hath done. It is
certainly reassuring to know that we shall not be molested."
So Peggy and her friend stayed in the cottage, or went back and forth to
the hospital untroubled, save for the irksomeness of having armed men
about the dooryard. And in the stable Star ate her oats, or tossed her
slender head unwitting of the fact that she had been saved from helping
in the marauding expeditions of the enemy.
"I have misjudged my cousin," thought Peggy with a warm glow of
gratitude toward the lad as she prepared his breakfast the next morning.
"And yesterday I was so angry. Peggy, Peggy! will thee never learn to
govern thy temper? Thee must be more patient, and guard thy unruly
tongue better. Heigh-ho! 'tis an adventurous jaunt after all, though
still I would I were with mother. There! I don't believe that my cousin
will ignore my offering this morning."
And with this she placed a few violets on the platter, and started for
the hospital, going through the gate of the orchard which opened into
Palace Street.
As she closed the gate and turned in the direction of the hospital she
saw an officer coming down the street. There was something strangely
familiar in his appearance, and Peggy was so impressed with the idea
that it was some one she had met that she regarded him keenly. She
stopped as though she had received a shock as she recognized him. For
the man was Major-General Benedict Arnold, and he was coming directly
toward her.