CHAPTER XVI--THE TWO WARNINGS
"Though your prognostics run too fast, They must be verified at last."
--Swift.
"And here is some one to see thee, Peggy," said Mrs. Owen a week later,coming into the little chamber under the eaves which the two maidensoccupied in common. "Bring thy cousin and come down."
"Is it John, mother?" asked Peggy, letting her tambour frame fall to thefloor. "I wondered why we did not see him."
"Yes, 'tis John, Peggy, though he is called Ensign Drayton here. Perhaps'twould be as well for us to term him so, too."
"Come, Harriet," called Peggy rising. "Let us run down. 'Tis our firstcaller."
"And being a soldier let us prepare for him," said the English girl,reaching for a box. "What would we females be without powder? 'Tis asnecessary to us as to a soldier, for 'tis as priming to our looks as'tis to a gun. There! will I do, Peggy?"
"Thee is beautiful, my cousin," replied Peggy with warm admiration."Thee does not need powder nor anything else to set off thy looks."
"Oh, well," laughed the maiden, plainly gratified by her cousin'sremark, "'tis as well to be in the mode when one can. And I wish to doyou honor, my cousin."
"Oh, John," cried Peggy as she entered the parlor, where young Draytonstood twirling his cocked beaver airily. "That I should live to see theewearing the white cockade of the Parley-voos on thy hat. What hathhappened?"
"The most wonderful thing in the world, Mistress Peggy," answeredDrayton reddening slightly at her raillery. "General Washington hathsaid that if my behavior warranted it he would put me with the Marquisde La Fayette's brigade upon his return from France. As 'tis to be apicked corps of men 'tis most gratifying to one's vanity to be sochosen. And in compliment to my prospective commander I am wearing thewhite cockade with our own black."
"I am so glad," exclaimed Peggy. "Thee is making us proud of thee.Father said that there was no soldier more faithful to duty than thou.This is my cousin from England, John. Mistress Harriet Owen, EnsignDrayton."
"Your servant, madam," said Ensign Drayton with a sweeping bow, whichHarriet returned with a deep curtsey.
"Ah, Drayton," said David Owen, entering at this juncture. "The lassiesare wild to see the camp. Canst thou ride, ensign?"
"That is how I made Miss Peggy's acquaintance, sir," said young Draytonfrankly.
"Ah, yes; I had forgot, my boy. I was thinking that perhaps thou couldstjoin us in our rides, and when it would not be possible for me to bewith the girls thou couldst escort them."
"I should be pleased, sir," answered Ensign Drayton. "The countryhereabouts is well adapted to riding as 'tis much diversified. Theroads, though narrow, are through woods and dales, and are mostbeautiful. I have been over the most of them, and know them well."
"Then thou art the very one to go with us," said Mr. Owen. "Now, my lad,answer any questions those camp wild maidens may ask and I will improvemy well-earned repose by perusing the 'Pennsylvania Packet.' A new onehath just reached me."
"Wilt pardon me if I say something, Mistress Peggy?" inquired youngDrayton an hour later as Harriet left the room for a moment.
"Why yes, John," answered Peggy. "What is it?"
"It is to be careful of your cousin," said the boy earnestly. "I likenot the fact that she is English and here in camp. She means harm, Ifear."
"Why, John Drayton," exclaimed the girl indignantly. "Just because sheis English doth not make her intend any hurt toward us. I am ashamed ofthee, John, that thee should imagine any such thing of one so sweet andgood as my cousin, Harriet. And is she not beautiful?"
"She is indeed very beautiful," he answered. "Pardon me, mistress, if Ihave wounded you, but still do I say, be careful. If she intends no hurtto any, either the camp or you, there still can be no harm in beingcareful."
"John, almost could I be vexed with thee," cried Peggy.
"Don't be that, Miss Peggy. I may be wrong. Of course I am all wrong ifyou say otherwise," he said pleadingly. "I spoke only out of kindnessfor you."
"There, there, John! we will say no more about it; but thee must nothint such things," said Peggy. And Drayton took his departure.
"Mother," cried Peggy several days after this incident when she hadreturned from the ride which had become a daily institution, "mother,John is becoming rude. I don't believe that I like him any more."
"Why, what hath occurred, Peggy?" asked Mrs. Owen, glancing at herdaughter's flushed face anxiously. "Thy father and I are both muchpleased with the lad. What hath he done?"
"'Tis about Harriet," answered Peggy, sinking into a chair by hermothers side. "The first time he came he cautioned me to be carefulbecause of her being here. I forgave him on condition that he shouldnever mention anything of like nature again. And but now, while we wereriding, Harriet stopped to speak for a moment to a soldier, and he said:'I don't like that, Mistress Peggy. Why should she speak to that man?This must be looked into.' And, mother, he wished to question Harrietthen and there, but I would not let him. He is monstrously provoking!"
"Well, does thee know why she spoke to the soldier?" asked her motherquietly.
"Mother!" Peggy sat bolt upright in the chair, and turned a reproachfulglance upon the lady. "Thee too? Why, Harriet told me but yesterday thatshe was becoming more and more of the opinion that the colonists wereright in rebelling against the king. And is she not beautiful, mother?"
"Thou art quite carried away with her, Peggy," observed Mrs. Owenthoughtfully. "Thou and thy father likewise. As thee says, Harriet'smanner to us is quite different to that which her father used. ButWilliam, whatever his faults, was an open enemy for the most part, and Ilike open enemies best. I cannot believe that an English girl would sosoon change her convictions regarding us."
"Mother," cried Peggy in open-eyed amaze, "I never knew thee to besuspicious of any one before. Thou hast been talking with John. Whathath come to thee?"
"I have said no word concerning the matter to John; nor will I, Peggy.'Tis not so much suspicion as caution. But now I heard her ask thyfather if there were but the three bridges across the Raritan, and if'twere not fordable. Why should she wish to know such things?"
"Did thee ask father about it, mother?"
"Yes."
"And what said he?"
"He feared that because of William's actions I might be prejudicedagainst her. He thought it quite natural for her to take an interest inmilitary affairs, and said that she asked no more questions concerningthem than thou didst. Beside, he said, she was such a child that nopossible harm could come of it."
"Belike it is because of Cousin William that thee does not feel easy,mother," said Peggy much relieved.
"It may be," admitted the lady. "Yet I would that she had not come. Iwould not have thee less sweet and kind to her, my daughter, but I agreewith John that it can do no harm to be careful. Watch, my child, thatthou art not led into something that may work harm to thee."
"I will be careful," promised Peggy, adding with playfulness: "Ascareful as though I did not have thee and father to watch over me, orthe army with General Washington right here. Let me see! Seven brigades,are there not? To say nothing of the artillery and four regiments ofcavalry variously stationed, and I know not how many brigades along theHudson and the Sound. There! thou seest that I am as well versed in thedisposition of the army as Harriet is."
"Is thee trying to flout thy mother, Peggy?" asked Mrs. Owen laughing inspite of herself. "I may in truth be over-anxious and fearful, but 'tisstrange that John feels so too. As thee says, it does seem as thoughnaught could happen with the whole army lying so near. Still I have thefeeling that harm threatens through the English girl."
But the days passed, and the time brought no change to Harriet's manner.She remained affectionately deferent to Mr. Owen, full of respectfulcourtesy toward Mrs. Owen, and had adopted a playful comradeship towardPeggy that was charming. The good lady's reserve was quite melted atlen
gth, and she became as devoted to the girl as her husband anddaughter.
With girlish enthusiasm the maidens regulated their own days by that ofthe camp. They rose with the beating of the reveille, reported to Mrs.Owen as officer of the day for assignments of duty, and, much to heramusement, saluted her respectfully when given tasks of knitting orsewing. When the retreat sounded at sunset they announced theirwhereabouts by a loud, "Here," as the soldiers answered to roll call,and, unless there was some merrymaking at one of the variousheadquarters, went to bed at the beating of tattoo.
Lady Washington joined her husband in February, and there was an addeddignity to the kettledrums and merrymakings in consequence. Betterconditions prevailed throughout the camp than had obtained at ValleyForge the preceding winter. The army was at last comfortably hutted. Thewinter was mild, no snow falling after the tenth of January. Supplieswere coming in with some degree of plenitude, and the outlook favoredrejoicing and entertainment.
But life was not all given up to amusement. The women met together, andmended the soldiers' clothes, made them shirts and socks whenever clothand yarn were to be had, visited the cabins, carrying delicacies fromtheir own tables for the sick, and did everything they could toameliorate the lot of the soldier.
After a few such visits to the huts Harriet made a protest.
"I like not common soldiers," she explained to Peggy. "I mind not thesewing, though I do not understand why Americans deem it necessary toalways be so industrious. 'Tis as though they felt that they must earntheir pleasures before taking them."
"Are not ladies in England industrious too?" inquired Peggy.
"They look after their households, of course, my cousin. And they paintflowers, or landscapes, and the tambour frame is seldom out of the handwhen one is not practicing on the spinet, but they do not concernthemselves with the welfare of the common soldiers as your women do."
"Oh, Harriet," laughed Peggy. "Thee has said that before, but thee doesnot practice what thee preaches."
"What mean you?" demanded Harriet with a startled look.
"I have seen thee several times give something to a common soldier, asthee calls him. Yesterday when we were leaving General Greene's I sawthee slip something to one when he came forward to tighten Fleetwood'sgirth. John saw it too."
"I had forgot," remarked the girl carelessly. "Yes; I did give him a bitof money. Methinks he hath rendered us several services of like nature,Peggy, when something hath gone amiss. Yet it may not have been the samesoldier. I scarce can tell one from another, there are so many."
"Thee has a good heart," commended Peggy warmly. "Mother says that 'tisthe only way to do a kindness. Perform the deed, and then forget it. ButI always remember."
"Does Cousin David ride with us to-day, or doth the ensign?" askedHarriet.
"'Tis John, my cousin. Father is on duty."
"I am sorry," said Harriet. "I do not like Ensign Drayton. He reminds meof a song they sing at home:
"'With little hat and hair dressed high, And whip to ride a pony; If you but take a right survey Denotes a macaroni,'"
she trilled musically. "Now don't say anything, Peggy. I know he isconsidered a lad of parts. I heard two officers say that he would nodoubt distinguish himself ere the war was over. 'Twas at Mrs. Knox'skettledrum."
"Now I must tell mother that," cried Peggy, her momentary vexation atHarriet's song vanishing. "He is our especial soldier."
"Is he? And why?" asked Harriet. "Nay," she added as Peggy hesitated."'Tis no matter. I knew not that it was a secret. I care not. I like himnot, anyway. Peggy, do you like me very much?"
"I do indeed, Harriet," answered Peggy earnestly. "Why?"
"I am just heart-sick to hear from my father," said Harriet, the tearswelling up into her beautiful eyes. "It hath been so long since I heard.Not at all since I came, so long ago."
"'Tis hard to get letters through the lines," said Peggy soberly.
"I know it is, for I have tried," answered Harriet. "The officers won'tsend them. If you were away from Cousin David wouldn't you make everyeffort to hear from him?"
"Indeed I would," responded Peggy. "Harriet, has thee asked father tohelp thee? He would take the matter to General Washington."
"General Washington does not wish to do it because I am British,"answered Harriet after a moment. "I know that they must be careful, butoh! I am so anxious anent my father, Cousin Peggy."
"That is just as mother and I were about father last winter," observedPeggy. "At last Robert Dale wrote us that he was a prisoner inPhiladelphia, and I rode into the city to see him."
"Was that when father was exchanged for him?" questioned the girleagerly.
"Y-yes," hesitated Peggy. She did not like to tell Harriet what efforthad to be made to get the exchange.
"Peggy, he helped you anent Cousin David then; will you help me about myfather?"
"How could I, Harriet?" asked Peggy.
"If you will just hand this note to that soldier that you saw me givethe money to yesterday he will get it through the lines. Nay," as Peggyopened her lips to speak. "You shall read it first. I would do nothingunless you should see that 'twas all right. Read, my cousin."
She thrust a note into Peggy's hand as she spoke.
"Miss Harriet Owen presents compliments to Sir Henry Clinton, and wouldesteem it a favor if he would tell her how Colonel William Owen is. Aword that he is well is all that is desired. I have the honor, sir, tobe,
"Your humble and obliged servant, "Harriet Owen.
"Middlebrook, New Jersey, Headquarters American Army."
"Why, there ought to be no objection to getting that through," exclaimedPeggy. "Harriet, let me ask father----"
"I have asked him," said Harriet mournfully. "He would if he could,Peggy. He wishes me not to speak of it again, and I promised I would tryto content myself without hearing from father. You must not speak of iteither; else Cousin David will be angry with me for not trying to becontent."
"Don't cry, Harriet," pleaded Peggy, as the girl commenced to sob, andher own tears began to flow. "Something can be done, I know. Thee oughtto hear from Cousin William."
"Cousin David said I must be content," sobbed Harriet. "And he hath beenso good to me that I must; though 'tis very hard not to hear. I see thatyou do not wish to do it, Peggy. I meant no wrong to any, but----"
"How does thee know that the soldier could get the note through thelines, Harriet?" asked Peggy thoughtfully.
"He said that he was to have leave to go to Elizabethtown for a fewdays, and while there he could do it," said Harriet, looking up throughher tears.
"Why does thee not give it to him, then?" inquired Peggy.
"It must be given to him to-day," answered the other, "because he goesto-morrow. If Cousin David were to ride with us I would, but EnsignDrayton always watches me as though I were in communication with theenemy, and about to bring the whole British force right down upon us.You know he does, Peggy."
Peggy flushed guiltily.
"Yes," she admitted, "he doth, Harriet. I knew not that thee was awareof it, though."
"Give me the note," said Harriet, rising suddenly. "As my father helpedyou to your father I thought you would aid me, but I see----"
"Nay," said Peggy, her gentle heart not proof against the insinuation ofingratitude. "Give me the note, Harriet. I will give it to the man. Isee not how it can bring harm to any, and thee ought to hear from thyfather."
"How good you are, Peggy," cried Harriet, kissing her. "Here is thenote. If I can only hear this once I will be content until such time asCousin David deems best. You are very sweet, my cousin."
And under the influence of this effusiveness Peggy saw not that the noteher cousin handed to her was not the one which she had read.
Peggy Owen, Patriot: A Story for Girls Page 18