Peggy Owen at Yorktown Part 22

Late one afternoon in the latter part of May Peggy and her cousin sat in the palace grounds under the shade of a large oak tree. The girl had been reading aloud, but now the book lay closed upon the gra.s.s beside her, and she sat regarding the youth who lay sprawled full length upon the gra.s.s.

"And so thee is going back to the army?" she asked. "Is thee sure that thee is strong enough?"

"Yes; I tire of inaction. I told General Phillips when he pa.s.sed through two weeks ago on his way to Petersburg that I would join him when the combined army reached Richmond. I would have gone with him then but that I hoped Harriet might still come here. I do not understand why I have not heard from her, if she is, as you say, in New York."

"I wish thee could hear, my cousin," said Peggy patiently. "I would that thee might hear from her for my own sake as well as thine. It vexes me for thee to doubt my word, and thee will never believe that I have spoken truth until thee hears from her."

"But consider," he said. "It hath been more than a month since you came.

When you first came you said that she was in New York. If so, why hath she not written? s.h.i.+ps pa.s.s to and from there with supplies and messages for the forces here. 'Twould have been easy to hear."

"I am sorry that I cannot relieve thy uneasiness," Peggy made answer.

"It is not in my power to do so, Clifford."

"I am uneasy," he admitted, sitting upright. "Sometimes I am minded to set forth to see what hath become of her."

Peggy looked at him with quick eagerness.

"Why not?" she asked. "My cousin, why should we two not go to Philadelphia? Then thee could go on from there to New York to thy sister. Why not, Clifford? My mother--" Her voice broke.

"You want to go home?" he a.s.serted.

"Yes; oh, yes!" she answered yearningly. "Thee is well now. There is naught to do but to amuse thee by reading or by conversation. The troops are now all on the south side of the James River with thy general, Lord Cornwallis. 'Twould be a most excellent time, Clifford, for a start toward Philadelphia. We would have none but our own soldiers to meet."

"'Our own soldiers' mean my foes, Mistress Peggy," he rejoined with a half smile. "You forget that I am an Englishman. We would never reach your home were we to start. I am not going to risk my new-found freedom by venturing among the rebels."

"But I am a patriot, and thou art a Britisher, as thou say'st. Why not depend upon me when we are among the Americans, and upon thee when with thy forces?" asked the maiden ingenuously.

The lad laughed.

"Nay," he returned. "We should need a flag that would show that we were non-combatants. No; 'twill not do. I shall go back to the army, and you--"

"Yes?" she questioned. "And I, my cousin? What shall I do? Twice already in the past month thy army hath visited this city. How often it will come from now on none can tell. All tide-water Virginia seems swept by them as by a pestilence. Get me a flag and let me pa.s.s to my home."

"'Tis not to be thought of for a moment," he answered quickly. "I will not even consider the thing. I have deliberated the matter, and, as I feel to some extent responsible for your well-being, I have finally decided what were best to be done. Know then, Mistress Peggy, that I shall in a few days conduct you to Portsmouth, where the frigate 'Iris'

lies preparing to return to New York. I shall send you on her to that port."

Peggy was too astonished for a moment to speak. The youth spoke with the quiet a.s.surance of one who expects no opposition to his decision. The girl chafed under his manner.

"Thee takes my submission to thy authority too much for granted, Cousin Clifford," she remarked presently, and her voice trembled slightly. "I am not going to New York. I spent a year there among the British, and 'tis an experience that I do not care to repeat. Thee does not choose to be a prisoner, my cousin; neither do I."

"If you were ever a prisoner there I know naught concerning it," he answered. "Surely if Harriet is there, as you would have me believe, 'tis the place for you. If you are the friends you seem to be what would be more natural than for you to go to her, since to return to your own home is out of the question? The vessel sails the first of June. I shall put you on her. There is naught else to do."

"I go not to New York," was all the girl said. She had not told Clifford any of the unpleasant incidents connected with his father, or sister.

She had been taught to speak only good, forgetting the evil. Now, however, she wondered if it would not have been better to have enlightened him concerning some of the events.

"We will not discuss the matter further for the present," he said stiffly. "I know best what to do in the matter, and you will have to abide by it. I see naught else for you to do."

Peggy's experience with boy cousins had been limited to this one, so she was ignorant of the fact that they often arrogate to themselves as a right the privilege of ordering their girl relatives' affairs. She did not know that these same masculine relatives often a.s.sumed more authority than father and brother rolled into one. She was ignorant of these things and so sat, a wave of indignant protest surging to her lips. Fearing to give utterance to the feeling that overwhelmed her she rose abruptly, and left the grounds.

"I will walk as far as the college and back," she concluded. "I must be by myself to think this over. What shall be done? Go to New York I will not. And how determinedly my cousin speaks! Doth he think that I have no spirit that I will submit to him?"

And so musing she walked slowly down Palace Street, under the shade of the double row of catalpa trees which cast cooling shadows over the narrow green. At length just as she turned to enter Duke of Gloucester Street there came the sound of bugles. This was followed by the noise of countless hoof beats; then came the sharp tones of military command: all denoting the approach of a body of mounted men.

The people began running hither and thither, and soon the street was so filled with them that Peggy could not see what was coming. As quickly as possible she made her way to the steps of the Capitol, and ascended its steps that she might have a good view of the approaching force. From the Yorktown road another detachment of British filed into town. The citizens of the little city viewed their entrance with feelings in which alarm predominated. What could they want in Williamsburg, they asked themselves. Had they not been stripped of almost everything in the shape of food that they should be compelled to support a third visit from the enemy? A flutter of skirts in the rear division of the cavalry drew attention to the fact that a girl rode among them and, surprised by this unusual incident, Peggy leaned forward for a keener glance.

A cry of amazement broke from her lips as the girl drew near. For the maiden was Harriet Owen on her horse, Fleetwood.

Harriet herself, blooming and beautiful! Harriet, in joseph of green, with a gay plume of the same color nodding from her hat, smiling and debonair, as though riding in the midst of cavalry were the most enjoyable thing in the world. Peggy rubbed her eyes, and looked again.

No; she was not dreaming. She saw aright. The vision on horseback was in very truth her cousin Harriet. With a little cry Peggy ran down the steps, and pushed her way through the gaping crowd.

"Harriet," she called.

Harriet Owen turned, saw her, then drew rein and spoke to the officer who rode by her side. He smiled, saluted her courteously as she dismounted lightly, and gave Fleetwood's bridle into the hand of an orderly. Quickly the English girl advanced to her cousin's side.

"Well, Peggy?" she said smilingly.

CHAPTER XX-VINDICATED

"'Tis just that I should vindicate alone The broken truce, or for the breach atone."

-Dryden.

"Thee has come at last," cried Peggy, a little catch coming into her voice. "Oh, Harriet! Harriet! why didn't thee come before? Or write?"

"Why, I came as soon as I could, Peggy. When I knew that the Forty-third was to be sent down I went to Sir Henry for permission to accompany the regiment. The colonel's wife bore him company, which made my coming possible. Oh, the voyage was delightsome! I love the sea. And the military also. You should have heard the things they said to 'this sweet creature,' as they styled me. And how is Clifford?"

"He is no longer an invalid, Harriet. He hath quit the hospital, and taken rooms at the Raleigh Tavern. Thee can see the building from here if thee will turn thy head. 'Tis the long low building with the row of dormer windows in the roof. He talks also of returning to the army, but hath been waiting to hear from thee. He hath worried. I am so glad that thou hast come, and he will be glad also. I do believe that thee grows more beautiful all the time."

"Sorry that I can't say the same for you," laughed Harriet, pinching Peggy's cheek playfully. "What have you been doing to yourself? You are pale, and thinner than when I saw you last. Mercy! how long ago it seems, yet 'twas but the first week in last month. I have had such a good time in New York, Peggy," she ran on without waiting for answers to her questions. "The routs and the a.s.semblies were vastly entertaining.

And the plays! Oh, Peggy, you should have been there. I thought of you often, and wished you with me, you little gray mouse of a cousin! Why do you wear that frock? I like it not."

"Did thee in truth think of me?" asked Peggy wistfully. "With all that pleasuring I wonder that thee had time."

"Well, I did of a certainty. Particularly after your mother's letter came telling me about Clifford, and how you had gone down to care for him. Of course I knew that he was in good hands, so I didn't worry. Is this the hospital?"

"Yes," answered the Quakeress who had been leading Harriet toward the spot during the conversation. "I left thy brother in the palace grounds, and I thought thee would like to be taken directly to him. Hath Captain Williams come in yet?" she inquired of an attendant.

"Captain Williams," repeated Harriet who seemed to be in high spirits.

"How droll that sounds! Are these the palace grounds?" as Peggy on receiving the attendant's answer led the way into them. "Oh! there is Clifford!"

She made a little rush forward with outstretched arms as she caught sight of her brother, crying joyously:

"Clifford! Clifford!"

The youth rose at her cry. Over his face poured a flood of color.