Peggy Owen Patriot Part 23

CHAPTER XVIII-STOLEN THUNDER

"When breach of faith joined hearts does disengage, The calmest temper turns to wildest rage."

-Lee.

"And what is it all about, my child?" inquired the governor as Harriet disappeared down the lane.

"She spoke the truth, sir," said Peggy, trying to recover from the intense amazement into which Harriet's conduct had thrown her. "Here is a letter-nay, my cousin must have kept it," she ended after a hasty search.

"She wished to show it to General Maxwell, I make no doubt," he said.

"Canst remember the contents?"

"I think so, sir," answered Peggy, who was herself again. The thing to do was to explain the warning to the governor. The affair with Harriet could be adjusted afterward. "It said that an attempt would be made to surprise the brigade at Elizabethtown on the twenty-fourth, sir, which is to-night. Also that an effort would be made to captivate the old rebel at L-- H--, which must have meant thee, sir."

"Doubtless! Doubtless!" he agreed. "I learned to-day that there was a large reward offered for me, dead or alive."

"Why, it spoke of the reward," cried she. "Thee won't stay here, will thee?"

"Oh, as to that--" he began, when his wife and two daughters appeared in the doorway.

"What is it, William?" asked gentle Mrs. Livingston.

"The British plan to attempt my capture to-night," he explained grimly.

"Zounds! do they think to find me in bed, as they did Charles Lee?"

"Oh, father," cried one of the girls fearfully, "you must leave at once for a place of safety."

"Here I stay," declared the doughty governor. "Is 't not enough that I should be hounded from pillar to post for two years, that I should leave now with a brigade less than a mile away? I'll barricade the house."

"Why, how could the house be barricaded when there is not a lock left on a door, nor even a hinge on the windows," cried Miss Susannah. "Papa, aren't you going to tell us who your informant is."

"Bless my soul," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the governor hastily. "My dears, this is Miss Peggy Owen, David's daughter. 'Twas her cousin, however, who was the informant. She hath ridden on, like the brave girl she is, to warn Maxwell. Miss Peggy, will you not stop with the family until morning, or do you wish to return to camp?"

"The camp, sir," replied Peggy promptly. "My mother will be uneasy."

"Then I will ride with you, my little maid," cried he, swinging himself into the saddle. "This information proves beyond doubt that there is a spy somewhere among us, and steps should be taken at once for his apprehension. My dears, if I thought for one moment that harm would be offered you--"

"Go, go," cried one of the daughters imploringly. "No greater harm will befall us than an attack of scarlet fever."

"That is Susy's favorite jest," chuckled William Livingston. "She will have it that our belles are in more danger from the red coats of the British officers than from all the bullets the English possess."

They had reached the end of the lane by this time, and turned into the turnpike just as a trooper rode up to them coming from Elizabethtown.

"Sir," he said, saluting, "General Maxwell hath sent to ask concerning this matter of attack. Have you any further knowledge regarding it, and do you consider the information correct? A young girl, English she was, came in great haste to tell us of it and hath set forth at speed for Middlebrook to ask General Was.h.i.+ngton to send reinforcements, as the number of the attacking party is unknown."

"'Tis marvelous," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the governor. "That is just what should be done. That is a wonderful cousin of yours, Miss Peggy. Yes," to the trooper, "I have no doubt but that the information is correct, though I know no further concerning the affair than that an attack is contemplated. Tell your general to be prepared. I am myself bound for the camp and will hasten the sending of reinforcements."

The trooper saluted, wheeled, and left them. The ride to Middlebrook was a silent one. The governor seemed absorbed in thought, and Peggy was full of wonderment at the perplexity of Harriet's actions. She had not wished her (Peggy) to warn the governor. She had tried to keep her from coming. And then-when she had thought her cousin well on toward the camp she had come after her and had given the warning herself. Why, why, why?

Peggy asked herself over and over. Had she thought it a hoax at first, as she had said, and then upon reflection concluded that it was not?

She was glad that Harriet had changed about it, Peggy told herself, but how strangely it was happening! Just as though 'twas Harriet and not herself to whom the credit belonged. It was so different, she reflected, from the time when she had gone to General Putman with news of the spy, James Molesworth. Then she had been made much of by every one, and now--

As she reached this point in her musings she chided herself sharply.

"Peggy," she exclaimed in stern self-admonition, unconscious that she spoke aloud, "Peggy, what doth it matter who did it-so that 'twas done?

That is the main thing."

"Did you speak, Mistress Peggy?" queried Governor Livingston, rousing himself from reverie in turn.

"I was thinking, sir," she told him, "and knew not that I spoke aloud.

'Tis fas.h.i.+on of mine so to do sometimes."

"'Tis one that most of us indulge in, I fancy," he responded. "We are almost at camp now. Art tired, my child? 'Tis a goodly distance you have traveled."

"A little," she made answer, and again there was silence.

It was ten o'clock when at last they rode into camp. Lights flashed as men hurried to and fro, and there was a general appearance of excitement quite different from the usual quiet of that hour. David Owen came out of the farmhouse as they drew rein before it.

"I hoped thee would come to the camp, William," he exclaimed. "Harriet hath thrown us all into a fever of apprehension concerning thee. His Excellency hath sent twice to know if aught was heard from thee."

"His Excellency is most kind," returned the governor. "And you also, David, to be so solicitous anent me. And Harriet? How is she? Zounds, David! there is a la.s.s to be proud of! She not only warned me, but Maxwell also, and now hath come back to the camp and roused it too!

Wonderful! wonderful! She hath beaten us well, Mistress Peggy."

"Yes," said Peggy quietly. "She hath. Finely!"

There was that in her voice that made her father come to her quickly.

"Thee is tired, Peggy," he cried lifting her from Star's back. "Thy mother hath been full of worriment anent thy absence, but Harriet said that she had left thee at the governor's, so I knew that thou wert safe.

Wilt light, William? We will be honored to have thy company for the night, and as much longer as 'twill please thee to remain."

"Thank you, David." Mr. Livingston swung himself lightly down to the ground. "I accept your hospitality with pleasure. Methought I was safe for this winter at home. Odds life! but the British grow reckless to make sallies so near the main army."

"The more glory should the attempt have been successful," laughed Mr.

Owen. "Come in, William."

"And this is the young lady who would give me no opportunity to thank her for her information," said the governor, going directly to Harriet who, looking superbly beautiful, despite a certain languor, reclined in a large chair surrounded by a group of officers.

"You must thank Peggy," declared Harriet laughing. "'Twas she who found the note. Peggy and Fleetwood, my horse, deserve all the credit, if there be any."

"And Harriet not a bit?" he quizzed, quite charmed by her modesty. "I fancy that there are those of us who think that Harriet deserves some little herself. And now that we are at ease, let us hear all about it."

"Hath not Peggy told you?" asked Harriet.

"Only given me the outline of it," he answered. "Now that the need for action is past, let's hear the story."

"Why, we were riding along when all at once I took a dash ahead of Peggy, just for sport. When I returned she had the letter, which she had found while I was gone," Harriet told him. "I was miles away then, was I not, Peggy?" Without waiting for an answer she continued hastily: "At first we hardly understood what it meant, and then suddenly it flashed over us that to-day was the twenty-fourth, and if there was an attack to be made 'twould be to-night. Of course when we realized that, there was but one thing to do, which was to let you know about it as quickly as possible, and to warn the brigade at Elizabethtown. Really," she ended, laughing softly, "there is naught to make such a fuss about. Twas a simple thing to do."