DAVID OWEN IS INFORMED OF THE FACTS
"Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth,
Unapt to toil, and trouble in the world,
But that our soft conditions, and our hearts,
Should well agree with our external parts?"
--"_Taming of the Shrew._"
"I didn't mean it, Peggy," sobbed Sally over and over. "Thee knows
that I didn't mean it to turn out so. Thee knows that I wouldn't do
such a thing, doesn't thee? I said the loom. Truly I said the loom. I
ran to the stairway just as quickly as I could after the sheriff said
he knew of the closet, and I called to thee to tell him to go to the
loom. And thee didn't hear me? Oh, Peggy! Peggy I thee knows that I
wouldn't betray thy cousin knowingly. Thee knows it, Peggy?"
"There, Sally," soothed Peggy. "I know that thee would do naught that
was not honorable. I see it all. All that was intended. Thee thought
that Clifford would go up attic behind the loom, and that by assuming
a bold front thee could deceive the sheriff into believing that he was
not on the place. Sheriff Will would naturally go to the closet, as he
knew of it. I am to blame too, Sally. It was just a miserable
misapprehension on both our parts."
"But Clifford will always believe that I betrayed him," said Sally
chokingly, lifting her tear-stained face. "And oh, I did like him so
much! What will they do with him, Peggy?"
"I don't know," answered Peggy thoughtfully. "Take him back to
Lancaster, probably. Father said this morning that the sheriff told
him a number of the prisoners had escaped. Clifford, it seems, had
stopped at the sheriff's own house to inquire the way to the State
House. I told him, I remember, that we lived just across from it. His
cloak had fallen apart and disclosed his uniform, and some one
suspected that 'twas one of the British prisoners. The sheriff was not
at home at the time, but when he came he was told of the occurrence,
and at once went in pursuit of him. But now," Peggy concluded soberly,
"we must take heed to ourselves. I hope that he believed me when I
told him that father had naught to do with the matter. If only the
punishment would fall on me, and not on thee, or father, I would not
mind what happened."
"Thee must go to him at once and unravel the whole affair," counseled
Mrs. Evans who had joined them as soon as the sheriff left. "'Tis best
that he should know of it at once. Sally, thee must go with Peggy, and
tell of thy share in it."
"Yes, mother," assented Sally meekly. "Peggy, will thee ever love me
again?"
"I haven't stopped yet, Sally," replied Peggy kissing her. "Thee must
not feel so bad. After all the sheriff might have found him up attic.
Thee knows how carefully he searches."
"I would not have been to blame for that, Peggy. Now Clifford will
always believe that I did it on purpose."
"Perchance there may come a time when thee can explain all to him,"
comforted her friend. "Let us go to father now, Sally. He must know
all that hath occurred."
[Illustration: THE TWO GIRLS SET FORTH.]
Without further ado the two girls set forth for Peggy's home. The
distant hills that ridged the west bank of the Schuylkill stretched a
luminous belt in the glistening sunshine. The city was clothed in a
garb of pure white, a dazzling garment that was symbolical of the
peace with which The Founder desired his beloved city to be filled.
But there was little peace in the hearts of the two maidens who wended
their way sadly and silently toward the Owen home in Chestnut Street.
David Owen, his wife, Nurse Johnson, Robert and Fairfax were assembled
in the living-room of the dwelling. They rose with exclamations of
dismay at sight of Peggy's pale face, and Sally's red eyes.
"What hath happened, lass?" cried her father. "Thou art in trouble. Is
it of a serious nature?"
"Yes, father," answered the girl tremulously. "It may be grave trouble
for thee, though it should be for me alone, as I am solely to blame."
She paused for a moment to steady her voice, then continued: "Father,
the escaped prisoner whom the sheriff sought was Clifford. He came
here yesterday just after dinner asking for shelter. I could not turn
him away in such a storm. Indeed, he would not have sought us out at
all had it not been for the weather. And--and I hid him in the kitchen
chamber."
"Clifford!" ejaculated her father. "Thy Cousin Clifford? But where is
he now? The kitchen chamber was searched, but we found no one there.
Where is he?"
"The sheriff hath him," Peggy told him chokingly. "Sally took him home
with her last night, and I went there to see him this afternoon. I met
the sheriff in Fourth Street as I left here, and he must have followed
me; for I had scarce begun to talk to Clifford when he came and took
my cousin. He talks of an indictment."
Both girls were crying by this time, and with an exclamation of
concern Mrs. Owen hastened to them, and drew them into an embrace.
"There! There!" she said soothingly. "David will manage it somehow.
Don't sob so, Sally. After all thee is not so much to blame. Perchance
the Council will excuse what thee did, as 'twas to help Peggy."
"I don't care for the old Council," flashed Sally through her tears.
"'Tis that Peggy's cousin thinks that I betrayed him. I thought he was
up attic, and he wasn't. I told Peggy to tell him to go there, but she
did not hear me. Thee knows my fault, Mrs. Owen," she wailed in an
agony of self-reproach. "Thee knows just how froward and saucy I can
be, and I was just that way with the sheriff, and--and pert. He spoke
of the closet, showing that he knew of it, and I was so sure that
Clifford was up attic that I asked the sheriff if I should open the
door for him. I did, and there was Clifford," she ended with a fresh
burst of tears.
"I know just how you feel," interposed Nurse Johnson sympathetically.
"And so the prisoner was Clifford? Well, I am sorry that he was taken.
Tell us all about it, Peggy."
"Yes, lass," spoke David Owen. "Calm thyself as soon as may be, and
let me know the matter in detail. I must know all concerning it."
Mr. Owen spoke gravely. Well he knew what the feeling was toward those
who assisted prisoners of war in escaping. Aiding or abetting the
enemy in any way was not tolerated, either in the city or the country
at large. The systematic cruelties practiced toward the American
prisoners both in the dreadful prison ships and the jails, the
barbarities perpetrated toward their countrymen in the South, the
harassing of the coasts, the raids of the refugees, the capture of
their merchantmen by British privateers; all these things and many
others served to keep the hearts of Americans inflamed with rancor
toward the English. They were not disposed to overlook any indulgence
displayed toward such an enemy.
Presently Peggy had so far recovered her usual composure that she was
able to relate succinctly all that had occurred. Her father listened
attentively.
"Why did thee not come to me for aid, lass?" he asked when she had
finished the recital.
"Why, father, 'twould go hard with thee were it to become known that
thee had given aid to a prisoner," answered Peggy. "I wished to keep
thee clear of it. Then, too, thee might have deemed it duty to give
up my cousin, and I could not bear that; yet I should want thee to do
what was right."
"I think I understand, lass," he said, "'Twas most ingenious to think
of having him come to the door as Sally's escort. I knew not that thou
hadst so much of daring in thee to originate such a plan."
Peggy flushed scarlet at this. She had suppressed all mention of
Fairfax's connection with the matter, wishing not to implicate him. So
she stared at her father in an embarrassed silence, uneasy at the
praise she did not merit.
"But why was he not discovered?" went on David Owen musingly. "The
room was searched twice. By the way," turning suddenly toward Fairfax
Johnson, "captain, was it not thee who went up there first?"
"It was, sir," answered the young man promptly. "I stumbled over
Clifford, who was lying wrapped up in a fur rug. He chuckled as I did
so, and I knew at once who it was. I had known him in Williamsburgh,
you remember."
"Why didst thou not cry out? Thou wert taken unawares, as it were. I
marvel at thy command," and Mr. Owen regarded him keenly.
"Well," hesitated the youth, "I went up there because I suspected that
Miss Peggy had some one hidden there, and I wanted to help her."
"Thou knew of it? But how?"
"Because she was out of the room longer than any one after dinner, and
had time to make arrangements of that nature if she so desired, sir.
Then too she did not reply when the sheriff asked us all to say
whether we had seen anything of a British prisoner."
"All this went on, and I saw naught of it!" exclaimed Mr. Owen. "Why!
where were my eyes? I would have affirmed that I could account for
every action of every member of the household."
"We younger people were together a great deal yesterday, sir. We had
more opportunities for observing if anything was amiss with one of our
number than you would have."
"Was it thou who wast responsible for the plan of getting away?"
questioned Mr. Owen. "Methought 'twas too daring to have originated
with Peggy."
"Well, yes," acknowledged Fairfax flushing. "The daring lay only in
the execution of it. The girls and Clifford furnished that."
"But to risk thy liberty for such a thing, lad! Was it worth while to
jeopardize thy new commission to aid Peggy with her cousin?"
Fairfax stirred restlessly.
"But I was under great obligations to Clifford too, sir," he made
answer presently. "He kept my mother from molestation in Williamsburgh
when the enemy was in possession of the place. I was in duty bound to
help him."
"And next I shall hear that Robert hath been concerned in the affair
too," uttered David Owen, turning to Robert Dale with a glimmer of a
smile. "I begin to believe that there hath been a regular conspiracy
among you young people. Speak up, lad. What did thee do?"
"Very little," answered the youth frankly. "Not so much as I should
have liked to do, Mr. Owen. I did not know that 'twas Peggy's cousin
whom she was hiding. I did know that there was some one. I suspected
who Sally's escort might be, and when I saw that she was dismayed at
the prospect of having to bring him to the table, I spoke as I did to
help her."
"Without knowing who it might be, Robert?" exclaimed Mr. Owen in
amazement.
"Peggy would conceal no one without thinking it right, sir," returned
Robert simply. "I think we all know that is the reason we stood by
her."
"Well, upon my word!" David Owen rubbed his hands thoughtfully. "And
how is Betty concerned?"
"Betty is entirely exempt from the matter, I believe," remarked Major
Dale smiling. "The rest of us are guilty."
"Did I do wrong, father?" asked Peggy timidly. "Is thee angry with
me?"
"Nay, lass. With thy soft heart thee could not do otherwise. Yesterday
was no day to turn any one from shelter, even though he were not thy
cousin. I would not have thee insensible to mercy, no matter who asked
it. I grieve only that such an act should involve thy young friends
in consequences which may prove of serious character to all
concerned."
"We are willing to abide by the consequences," spoke the two youths
simultaneously. Mr. Owen shook his head.
"Nay," he said. "I will not permit it. Peggy alone must be held
responsible for what hath occurred. 'Tis just and right. I will see if
aught can be done with the Council. I want also to find where Clifford
hath been put, to see if I shall be allowed to do anything for him. At
times food and comforts are given to prisoners, and perchance we may
be permitted to do this for him."
"And oh, Mr. Owen! if thee does see him, tell him how it happened,"
pleaded Sally. "I could bear a term of imprisonment better than that
he should esteem me a treacherous friend."
"I will do what I can, Sally," he promised her.
David Owen was absent for nearly two hours, and an anxious time of
waiting it proved. The girls were comforted and petted by the two
ladies, while the youths made them relate over and over all the
incidents leading to the capture of Clifford. At length Mr. Owen
returned.
"Clifford is in the new jail pending his return to Lancaster," he told
them. "I saw and talked with him. I told him all that thee wished,
Sally, and that thee had naught to do with his capture. He exonerates
Peggy from all thought of treachery, but I grieve to say that the lad
exhibits a perverse disbelief in thee, Sally. He would hear of no
excuse for thee, though I tried to make him understand how it all came
about."
"I knew it," said Sally with tears. "I knew he would not believe in
me."
"Never mind, Sally," said Peggy. "I will try to see him, and I will
make him listen to reason."
"Thee will not be permitted, lass. It was granted me as a great favor,
but, because of the aid which thou didst render him, 'twould be most
unwise for thee to seek to see him. I arranged with Mr. Ledie that as
much comfort should be given him as is compatible with his state as
prisoner. 'Tis all that can be done."
"And the Council, David?" queried his wife, anxiously. "Could thee do
anything about that?"
"The Council have consented that Peggy and Sally shall appear before
them on the morning of Second-day at ten of the clock, to show cause
why they should not be indicted. 'Tis an unheard of thing to permit
it, as 'tis usual to petition, but I asked for their appearance,
knowing that their youth would be in their favor. 'Tis a grave matter,
as they acknowledged, but I think the most of them feel kindly toward
ye. I talked with several."
But Mrs. Owen saw that he spoke with assumed lightness. "I think," she
said, "that we ought to have Sally's mother with us. To-morrow is
First-day, which will give time to discuss the subject in all its
bearings. She should be with us. Robert, wilt thou go for her?"
"With pleasure, Mrs. Owen," he responded rising. "And we must not
forget that Uncle Jacob Deering is one of the Council."
"True," exclaimed Lowry Owen, her face lighting up. "True; I had
forgotten."