Peggy Owen and Liberty Part 6

"Thy help must be confined to the dining-room, Betty," answered Peggy.

"Thee must not be out here in that gown."

"Then I will set the table," said Betty. "My, my! what a party we're having."

"And we will help too, Peggy," spoke Robert Dale. "Have you nothing that two great fellows like the captain and myself can do?"

"Plenty, plenty," laughed Peggy. "Thee may slice the roast beef, Robert, while Friend Fairfax may take the ham. Sally and I will attend to the bread and cake. Sukey, will thee need more wood?"

"No'm," grumbled Sukey. "I shouldn't t'ink yer pa'd want ter feed dem folkes aftah de way dey done pried 'roun' inter ebberyt'ing."

"Well, it is annoying, of course, Sukey, but after all they were but doing their duty," answered Peggy slowly.

"Yes'm," said the black giving her young mistress a sharp look, then turning she busied herself about the fire.

Each one was attending strictly to the task before him, and resolving to embrace the opportunity to talk a few moments with Fairfax Johnson, Peggy took the loaf of bread she was cutting over to the table where the youth was slicing ham.

CHAPTER V

FRIENDS IN NEED

"Thanks for the sympathies that ye have shown!

Thanks for each kindly word, each silent token, That teaches me, when seeming most alone, Friends are around us, though no word be spoken."

--_Longfellow._

"He must not stay there, Mistress Peggy," said Fairfax in a low tone as the maiden joined him. "The sheriff is not satisfied, and I doubt not will make the search again. He will not wish me to go above again, but will choose one of his own men. It is not safe for your cousin."

"Thee saw him, then?" breathed Peggy. "Oh, Friend Fairfax, how good thee is not to betray him."

"It is your cousin," he said simply. "It was my duty, but friends.h.i.+p hath a duty too. But of that more anon. The thing to do now is to get him down from there while they are at supper."

"Sally says he may go home with her," Peggy told him eagerly. "Will thee help us to manage it, Friend Fairfax?"

"I'll do what I can," he promised earnestly. "Is she not talking of going after supper?"

"Yes."

"Let him get down, then, while they are at table, and come boldly to the front door for her. 'Twould be quite natural for some one to call for her, would it not?"

"Why, 'tis the very thing," cried Peggy. "Of course her mother would send for her on such a night. Only I like not to send her away before she hath finished her supper. 'Tis monstrously inhospitable."

"'Twill be easier to get him away then than at any other time," he declared. "She will mind it not if she really wishes to aid you."

"She will do anything for me," said Peggy tremulously. Her heart was very full of love toward these friends for the aid they were rendering. "Friend Fairfax, thee has certainly hit upon the very thing."

"And his boots," continued the youth. "He hath on the English top-boots of narrow make. 'Twas by them that he was so easily traced.

Of late we of the states have manufactured our own boots, and all citizens wear them save the macaronis. They are not so well finished,"

he glanced at his own boots as he spoke with something of regret, "but 'tis that very thing that makes the difference. I have another pair in my portmanteau, Mistress Peggy. I will get them, and you must contrive to have your cousin wear them. He can take his own with him. In this manner the snow will give no trace of his going, for the boots are such as all citizens wear."

"Thank thee," said Peggy gratefully. "Thee has taken a great load from my mind, Friend Fairfax. I make no doubt but that all will fall out as thee has planned. What is it, Betty?"

"I was just wondering what there was about slicing cold ham that called for such absorbing interest," cried Betty who vacillated between the kitchen and the dining-room. "Robert spoke to thee once, and I asked Captain Johnson a question. Neither of you deigned to answer us."

"Thee may take my place and find the secret," said Peggy mischievously, so relieved over the plan as outlined by Fairfax that she could enjoy the diffidence that once more overwhelmed him at Betty's approach. "I will help Sally with that cake."

"'Tis just the thing," declared Sally as Peggy unfolded the arrangement. "And how simple! I like thy friend, Peggy, and yet I cannot help but laugh at his blushes and shyness."

"I feel the same, Sally," confessed Peggy with remorse. "He is a dear lad, for all his diffidence, and yet there are times when I am beset with a desire to tease him. Why is it, I wonder, that we females delight to torment such even though they are in very truth heroes?"

"I know not," answered Sally. "I only know that 'tis true, and 'tis pity we are so const.i.tuted. And see, Peggy! The poor fellow is so beset by Betty that he can scarce cut the ham. Shall we go to his rescue?"

"Indeed 'tis time," laughed Peggy. "Everything is ready for the supper too. Robert, thee has cut that beef well. I knew not that the domestic arts were so well taught in camp."

"We learn many things, Peggy," returned he. "Camp hath taught me to carve all foods. And not only the art of carving hath been taught me, but the far greater one of obtaining the food to carve. Our friend yonder hath evidently not had so much experience, or else Betty's presence hath converted his fingers into thumbs."

"'Tis Betty, I fear," answered Peggy with a laugh. "Do help him, Robert, while the rest of us carry in the things."

Fairfax resigned the ham to Robert Dale with relief, but did not stay to profit by his expertness. Instead he took a large platter which Peggy was carrying from her, and pa.s.sed through the entry into the dining-room.

"I will run up for the boots," he told the girl on coming back to the hallway. "I shall put them in the entry way."

Peggy nodded, and went in to see that all was in readiness for the meal. The sheriff and his men viewed the bountifully spread table with looks of complacence, and presently every one was gathered around the table. As was natural in the daughter of the house Peggy a.s.sisted in the waiting, and was back and forth from the kitchen with tea, hot chocolate, rusks, or whatever might be needed. At length, the opportunity she wished for came, and she found herself alone in the kitchen with Sukey safe for the time being in the dining-room. She lost not a moment.

"Clifford," she called softly.

"Yes, my cousin." The trap-door was swung back, and Clifford Owen's face appeared at the opening. "I say," he said, "that was a close shave, wasn't it? If our friend Fairfax had not been the prince of good fellows where would I be now?"

"Where thee will be unless thee acts quickly," replied his cousin. "He fears that the sheriff will make another search. Thee must swing thyself down, Clifford." She placed a chair upon the table as she finished speaking, and held it to steady it. In an instant he stood beside her.

"Thou art to go home with my friend, Sally Evans," explained the girl.

"'Tis dangerous to stay here, my cousin."

"Yes, I know," he answered. "I heard them talking. I tell you I held my breath when Fairfax stumbled over me."

"Yes, yes," she said hurriedly. "Thee must not talk now, Clifford, but act. Fairfax brought down a pair of his boots for thee. Thou art to put them on, and carry thine own. Thine are of English make, and leave telltale marks. Then thee must betake thyself to the front door, and sound the knocker boldly. Thou art to say that thou hast come for Mistress Sally Evans. Sally will join thee, and take thee to her mother's where thee can remain safely until 'tis fitting weather for thee to pursue thy journey to New York. Does thee understand?"

"Peggy," he said sorrowfully, "I am putting too much risk upon you and this friend of yours. I might as well let the sheriff take me and be done with it. I will do it rather than cause you so much worry."

"Oh, will thee hurry," pleaded the girl bringing the boots from the entry way. "There is so little time, my cousin. To-morrow I will come to thee at Sally's, and then we can have a long talk. Now thee must act. Sukey may come in at any time. Or Tom. Oh!" in a despairing tone as the latch of the door leading into the main building clicked its warning. "'Tis too late. Why, 'tis Sally!"

"Thee forgot the quince conserve, Peggy," said Sally trying vainly to act as though Peggy was alone. "Thy mother sent me for it. She told Sukey to come, but I jumped up and said that I would get it."

"Sally, this is Clifford," spoke Peggy. "And oh, he won't hurry. He talks of trouble and worry when he should be doing. Clifford, this is my dearest friend, Sally Evans."