"But to leave you, Peggy," he exclaimed. "I like it not. Were it not for the chief I would not. It may be best. As you say there is need for haste, but I will come again for you."
"No, no; "tis too full of risk," she said. "Go, John, go! I fear for thee every moment that thee stays."
"I am going," he said sorrowfully. "Tell me by which road this alert goes?"
"To Newark, and then by the Morris turnpike. They get a guide at Amos Henderson"s," she told him.
"Good-bye," he said. "I will come again for you, Peggy."
"Good-bye, John," answered Peggy hardly able to speak. "And tell my mother-my mother, John--"
"Yes," he said. They clasped hands. "Don"t worry, Peggy. This will be the alert that failed."
Peggy waited until she could no longer hear his cheery whistle down the road and then stole back into the house.
Drayton was right. Four and twenty hours later the most disgruntled lot of Britishers that the city ever beheld returned, fatigued and half frozen from their fruitless quest. The famous alert from which so much was hoped had failed.
----- [3] "Alert," an old word meaning an attack.
CHAPTER XXVI-THE BATTLE WITH THE ELEMENTS
"Southward with fleet of ice Sailed the corsair Death; Wild and fast blew the blast And the east wind was his breath."
-Longfellow.
"There is but one explanation to the whole thing," growled Colonel Owen the next morning. With the two girls for an audience he was voicing his disappointment at the failure of the alert, and incidentally nursing a frost-bitten foot. "And that is that the guide purposely led us astray."
"But why a guide at all, father?" questioned Harriet. "The highway is easily followed."
""Tis the snow," he explained irritably. "All roads are buried under four or more feet of it. Landmarks are obliterated and the forest but a trackless waste. "Tis no wonder the fellow lost his way, though, methinks. "Twas as though he knew our errand, and kept us floundering among the drifts purposely."
"Belike he did," observed Harriet. "What with Peggy feeding all the rabble that comes along "tis small wonder that your plots and plans become known to the rebels. I bethought me the other day when she had that teamster in the kitchen that he was a spy. Now I make no doubt of it."
"What"s all this?" demanded her father sharply. "What teamster are you talking about, Harriet?"
""Twas the man who brought the wood, Cousin William," explained Peggy, trying to speak quietly. "Harriet objected at the time to his being fed, but "twould have been unkind not to give him cheer when "twas so cold."
"But that is no reason why you should talk with him," sneered Harriet.
"I saw that parley you held when he was throwing off the wood."
"Did you talk to him, Peggy?" Colonel Owen regarded her keenly.
"Why, yes," she answered. "I went out to scold him because he was piling the wood in such a way that it could not be measured."
"There was naught amiss about that," he remarked with a relieved expression. "Nor about the food either, if that was all there was to it."
"But was it all?" queried Harriet. "The servants said that Peggy was over-solicitous anent the fellow."
"Peggy!" Colonel Owen faced the maiden abruptly. "Let us have this matter settled at once. You usually speak truth. Do so in this instance, I beg of you. Was the wood and feeding the man all there was to the affair?"
Peggy did not reply.
"There is more then," he said. "Your silence speaks for you. I demand now to know if this fellow was responsible for the failure of our plan to captivate the rebel general?"
But Peggy was not going to betray Drayton"s disguise if she could help it, and neither would she speak an untruth. So she met her kinsman"s glance with one as direct as his own as she answered, "I am to blame for thy plan going amiss, Cousin William."
"You?" he exclaimed incredulously. "Why, you knew naught of it. I was careful that even Harriet should not know it."
"I was in the drawing-room," she told him boldly, "when thee and thy commander were discussing the plan. I heard the whole plot. While the dinner was being served I slipped out and sent word to the general."
"By whom?" he asked controlling his anger with difficulty. "By whom did you send word?"
"That, sir, I will not tell," responded she resolutely.
"And do you know what this action hath cost me?" he thundered, livid with rage. "A knighthood and fortune. Was not the account long enough betwixt us that you must add this to it? To come here and play the spy in mine own house. "Tis monstrous!"
"I did not come here of my own accord," she reminded him becoming very pale. "If I have played the spy "tis no more than thy daughter did for many months in our house. I will gladly relieve thee of my presence at any time that thee will let me go."
"You shall not go-now or at any time," he stormed, his voice shaking in its fury. "Moreover I shall put it out of your power to work any further harm here. Sir Henry Clinton leaves for the South in a few days. I shall go with him, and take you both with me."
"Oh, father!" wailed Harriet. "Not me?"
"You too," he answered. "You and this marplot of a girl, who hath spoiled a most feasible plan of ending the rebellion." He glared at Peggy for a moment with a look that made her tremble and then stalked out of the room.
"Just see what you have done, Peggy Owen," cried Harriet, her eyes ablaze with wrath. "Now we"ll have to go I know not how far away, to some old place where there is no fun. Just mind your own affairs after this, will you?"
"No," replied Peggy stoutly, though her heart swelled at the thought of going upon a journey that would take her further away from home. Like most girls of the period she was hazy about the geography of the country, and the South seemed an indefinite somewhere a long way off.
"No, Harriet, my affairs are those of the rebels, as thee calls them. If at any time I hear aught planned either against them or the general, and "tis in my power to warn them, I tell thee frankly that I shall do so."
"I shall go right to father with that," cried Harriet, and in turn she flounced out of the room.
In spite of her brave words, however, Peggy"s tears fell like rain as she slipped down to the stable and flung her arms about Star"s neck.
"Oh, Star, Star!" she sobbed. "I"ll never see mother again, I fear me.
Oh, what shall I do? What shall I do?"
Sir Henry Clinton was to set sail for Savannah, Georgia, which had fallen into the hands of the British in December of the preceding year.
The province, after being overrun by the army in an incursion of savage warfare, appeared to be restored to the crown, and now Charleston was to be taken and South Carolina restored to its allegiance by the same method. North Carolina and Virginia were to follow in turn, and the campaign in the South concluded by a triumphal march back through Delaware, Pennsylvania, and New Jersey, until Washington would be between the two British armies. Then, with an attack from New York simultaneous with one from the rear, the Continentals would be swept out of existence. This, in brief, was the British plan of campaign for the ensuing year, and the English commander-in-chief was setting forth for its accomplishment.
Colonel Owen"s determination to go with his chief seemed to grow firmer the more Harriet pleaded with him to stay, and the day after Christmas they set sail in the schooner "Falcon." Reinforced by Admiral Arbuthnot with new supplies of men and stores from England the British were jubilantly sure of success, and set forth with their transports under convoy of five ships of the line.
"We shall have our horses with us, anyway," declared Harriet, who brightened up wonderfully once they were under way, and addressing Peggy with the first gleam of good humor that she had shown since it had been decided that they should accompany her father. "I saw to it that they were sent aboard with the cavalry horses, on one of the transports. I dare say there will be a chance for rides. At any rate "twill not be so cold as it hath been in New York."
"I suppose not," agreed Peggy sadly. She was calling all her resolution to aid her to bear this new trial.