“Every man to the blockhouse! The British and refugees are approaching!”
It seemed but an instant until the village was aroused. Candles flashed in the windows, and lanthorns gleamed in the streets as the people prepared for the foe. Every man and boy capable of bearing a musket hurried to the fort, while white-faced women snatched their little ones from their cots, and huddled together for mutual comfort and consolation.
Peggy and Sally had awakened at the first alarm. Often the former had been thankful for the Quaker teaching which enabled her to retain her self-control. She felt doubly grateful for it now in the midst of a confusion that was terrifying. Men shouted hoarsely as they ran through the town: sometimes repeating the orders of their captain, sometimes calling reassuringly to the women. The wailing and crying of the children, added to the screaming of the mothers, made a commotion that was frightful. The girls were pale, but they managed to retain composure.
“Is thee afraid, Peggy?” whispered Sally.
“Yes,” admitted Peggy squeezing her friend’s hand. “I am, Sally, but ’twill not help matters to give way to it.”
“Ye are brave girls,” commented Mrs. Ashley joining them. “Let us go down-stairs. ’Tis planned to have all of the women and children come here, as this is the largest house, and ’twill give comfort to be together. If some of us remain calm it will help to quiet the others. You can aid greatly in this.”
So the Quakeresses went down among the assembled women, and, by assisting to quiet the children, helped Mrs. Ashley, Nurse Johnson, and others to bring a sort of order out of the tumult. An hour went by; then another, yet there was no sign of the enemy, and the tension relaxed among the waiting, frightened women. A few whispered that it was a false alarm, and smiled hopefully. Some slept; others sat quietly by their slumbering children, or stood about the rooms in listening attitudes. All wore the tense expression of those who face a fearful danger. Slowly the time passed, until another hour had gone by. All at once the sound of hurrying feet was heard without, and Peggy and Sally ran out on the verandah to find the meaning of it. It proved to be a scouting party sent down the river road by Captain Johnson to intercept the foe should it approach from that direction.
“I feel better out here in the air; doesn’t thee, Sally?” asked Peggy after the men had passed.
“Yes; let’s stay for a while. There is naught more that can be done inside.”
For answer Peggy slipped her arm about Sally’s waist, and the two sat down on the steps of the porch. The house was near the bay, and the restless lapping of the waves smote their ears with rhythmic dismalness. A brisk southwest wind was singing through the pines, but after the tumult engendered by the alarm, the stillness seemed abnormal. The streets were deserted now, and the only sign of life came from the dim lanthorns of the blockhouse. Nothing was stirring save the waves, the wind, and the leaves of the forest. Slowly the gray dawn crept into the sky, and still the maidens sat on the steps, silently waiting and watching.