Peggy Owen Patriot Part 21

Owen as Peggy and Harriet came down the stairs equipped for their ride.

"Be not too long away, for thy father will wish you both here."

"Is he the rebel governor of the Jerseys?" asked Harriet abruptly. "The one for whom two thousand guineas are offered-for his capture?"

"He is the patriot governor of the state, Harriet," answered Mrs. Owen mildly. "We do not call such rebels. As to the reward I know not. I had not heard of such amount being offered, although 'tis well known that he is held in particular abhorrence by both the Tories and thy people.

Perhaps David can inform thee concerning the affair."

"'Tis no matter," spoke Harriet hastily. "I dare say that I have confused him with another. Peggy, hath my beaver the proper tilt to show the feather? It should sweep to the right shoulder."

"'Tis most becoming," answered Peggy, after a critical survey. "Thee looks as charming as ever, Harriet."

"Vanity, vanity," laughed her cousin. "Shall we go for the ride now?"

Ensign Drayton rode into the yard just as their horses were brought to the block for the girls to mount. To Peggy's surprise the same private soldier to whom she was to give the note had them in charge. As Harriet vaulted lightly into her saddle he left Fleetwood's head and went round to the horse's side.

"That will do, sirrah," spoke young Drayton sharply. "I will attend to the strap."

Peggy glanced at him quickly. "John grows unmannerly," she thought to herself. "Now what did the poor man do amiss? Friend," she called as the soldier saluted and turned to leave, her voice showing her indignation, "friend, thee shall fix Star's girth if it needs it."

"Thank you, miss," he said, saluting again. He tightened the strap deftly, and the girl put her hand in her purse for a small coin. As she did so her fingers touched the note that Harriet had given her, and she bent toward him suddenly.

"Thee was to take a letter, was thee not?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied, a look of astonishment flas.h.i.+ng across his face.

"It is here, friend," said she, giving him the missive. "I hope thee can get it through, for my cousin is sore beset with grief for news of her father. And there is money for thee. Thou art a good man, and hast a kind heart."

"Thank you," he said saluting, and Peggy could not have told how he concealed the note, it was done so adroitly.

"Why did thee speak so sharply to him, John?" she queried when at length they had started.

"Those girths should be attended to before bringing the horses round,"

he answered. "'Tis done to get money from you girls. He never sees us but that he comes forward under some pretense of doing a service. I like not his actions. How doth it come that he is attending the horses? He is not your father's man."

"I know not," answered Peggy. "Doth it really matter? Fie, fie, John!

thee is cross. I never saw thee so before."

"Your pardon," said the lad contritely. "I meant not to be so, but men require sharp treatment, and perchance I have brought my parade manner with me."

The girls laughed, but a constraint seemed to be over all three. Harriet was unusually silent, and Peggy, though conscious of no wrong-doing, was ill at ease.

The feeling was intensified as, when they had gone some distance, young Drayton wheeled his horse suddenly.

"Let us go back," he said abruptly.

"Why?" exclaimed both girls simultaneously, but even as they spoke they saw the reason. A few rods in front of them, suspended from the limb of a tree, hung the limp body of a man.

"Is it a spy?" whispered Peggy shudderingly.

"Yes, Mistress Peggy. I knew not that the execution would take place on this road, else I would have chosen another for the ride. 'Tis not a pleasing sight."

"Is thee ill, Harriet?" cried Peggy, all at once happening to glance at her cousin who had no color in her face.

"Ill? No," answered Harriet with an attempt at carelessness. "I am chilled; that is all. Then, too, as the ensign says, yon sight is not a pretty one. Methinks such service must be extremely hazardous."

"It is, mistress," said Drayton sternly. "So perilous is it that the man, woman, or girl even who enters upon it does so at the risk of life.

No mercy is shown a spy. Nor should there be."

"And yet," she said growing paler still, "spies are used by your own general, sir. It is a parlous mission, but he who enters upon it serves his country as truly as though"-she laughed, flung up her head and looked him straight in the face-"as though he were an ensign," she finished mockingly.

"She has thee, John," cried Peggy gaily. "But a truce to such talk. 'Tis gruesome, is it not? Let us converse upon more pleasing subjects."

"Methinks," said Drayton briefly, "'twould be as well to return, Mistress Peggy. The ride hath been spoiled for the day."

But a shadow seemed over them, and neither girl recovered her accustomed spirits until some hours later when they went into dinner.

"Now by my life, David," cried William Livingston, the great war governor of New Jersey, as the maidens were presented. "Now by my life, these girls take not after you, else they would not be such beauties.

They must meet with my daughters. I had three," he said turning to Peggy. "The Livingston Graces, some called them, but one grew tired of being a nymph and so became a bird. Nay; be not alarmed," he added as a puzzled look flashed across Peggy's face, "she but married John Jay.

'Tis a joke of mine. And this is the cousin from across the sea who bids fair to become our more than sympathizer? Wilt pardon me if I say that were I British I'd never relinquished to the rebels so fair a compatriot?"

"Perchance, sir," replied Harriet, sweeping him an elaborate curtsey, and a.s.suming the gracious manner which was one of her charms, "perchance if you were on the other side I would not wish to be relinquished."

"That is apt," he responded with a hearty laugh. "What think you, David?

Are not the honors evenly divided betwixt this young lady and myself? I must be wary in my speech."

"And are you at Liberty Hall this winter?" she asked him presently.

"Yes; thanks to Maxwell's brigade, I am permitted this enjoyment. Were he not stationed at Elizabethtown, however, I could not be with my dear ones. 'Tis the first time in three years that I have had the privilege.

Hath General Was.h.i.+ngton returned from Philadelphia, David?"

"He hath been back for some time," answered Mr. Owen. "Since the first of the month, in fact. 'Twas dull here without him."

"I like him better than any other one of your people whom I have met, my cousin," declared Harriet after the governor had taken his departure. "I have heard much of Liberty Hall, Cousin David. I am curious anent it.

Where is it?"

"'Tis a mile northwest of Elizabethtown, Harriet," answered he. "A wonderful place it is. The governor hath sent abroad and obtained hundreds of trees to adorn the grounds. 'Tis his lament, however, that he will not live to see them grown. He is a wonderful man also. 'Tis no marvel that thee is pleased with him. His daughters are most charming, and will be agreeable acquaintances for thee and Peggy. We will go there soon."

"But tell me how to get to the Hall, please," she teased. "I want to know exactly."

"Exactly," he laughed. "Well, well, Harriet, I will do my best; though why thee should want to know exactly is beyond me."

"'Tis fancy," she said laughing also. "And thee always indulges my fancies, Cousin David. Doesn't thee now?"

"Whenever thee uses that speech, my child, I cannot resist thee," he answered. And forthwith sat down by the table and drew for her a map showing just where the road to Liberty Hall turned from the Morris turnpike.

"Drayton and I are both on duty to-day," announced Mr. Owen the next morning. "If you ride, la.s.sies, it must be without escort, unless I can find some one to go with you."

"Oh, do let us go alone, Cousin David," pleaded Harriet. "Peggy and I have gone so a few times. There is nothing to harm us."