“There won’t be any trouble about it this time, Sally. Father and mother are with me, and they will arrange everything.”
“Thy mother is calling again, Peggy. We will have to go down. Be sure to write, and I will keep a journal for thee of Betty’s doings. She is to have so many things from France. Would thee were to be here!”
“I should like to be,” answered Peggy opening the door. “We are coming at last, mother.”
Quite a caravan awaited Peggy’s coming. There were a number of wagons, some containing Continental stores for the military at Lancaster; others filled with private property belonging to citizens, and still others which contained household articles which Mrs. Owen was taking for her use. All were under a strong guard. A roomy and comfortable calash had been provided for the lady, in which Peggy was to ride also when she should become tired of the saddle. Robert Dale, with the reins of his own horse thrown over his arm, stood waiting by Star’s side to help Peggy mount.
“We were thinking that we should have to become brigands and carry you off, Peggy,” he remarked as the girls joined them.
“Thee will not wonder that I was delayed when I tell thee the news, Robert,” answered Peggy as, with the youth’s assistance, she vaulted lightly into the saddle. “Oh, Sally, I do wish thee was going!”
“And so do I, Sally,” spoke Robert.
“I should like to be with both of you, but I am glad to be in Philadelphia for a time,” replied Sally. “Tell him about Betty, Peggy.”
They were off at length, going by way of High Street across the Middle Ferry into the Great Lancaster Road. The distance was something more than sixty-five miles, and it was the intention to make it by brief stages. The road had formerly been known as the King’s Highway, and was famed for the number of its taverns, which were jestingly said to be as many as its mile-stones. There was, therefore, no difficulty in making each day’s journey as long or short as might be desired.
Peggy felt her spirits rise under the influence of the sunshine, the refreshing fragrance of the morning air, and the ride among scenes of romance and beauty. It was a country of rolling hills and gently sloping vales through which they passed, with occasional rocky dells and low cascades. A country of orchards, meadows, and woodlands; a country of flowing water, salubrious, fertile and wealthy; dotted with a few villages and many fine farms. The road ran incessantly up and down hill through dense woods of oak, hickory, and chestnut. The face of the country seemed like a great rolling sea, and it was no wonder that the girl’s heart grew light as the ride unfolded the pleasing and picturesque landscape to view.