“True, lass,” he said. “True. Does thee know what my work here is?”
“I did not know until this morning,” she told him gazing at him fearfully. “Then I learned that it was to check the contraband trade which is held betwixt your people and mine.”
“That is it exactly,” Mr. Owen made answer. “Harriet, it gives me much pain, but I must ask thee if thee——”
But at this point Clifford Owen went quickly to his sister’s side, and faced Mr. Owen boldly.
“Of what do you accuse my sister, sir?” he asked. “Hath she not just said the wagon contained stores for our soldiers?”
“Yes, lad; but it also contains many pounds of goods which are illegal to bring to thy soldiers.”
“And if it does contain such articles she knows naught of how they came there,” spoke the youth wrathfully, his face white with anger. “We are not traders, sir. Harriet would not stoop to smuggle goods here. Why do you not ask the driver concerning the matter?”
“He hath disappeared, Clifford. I pray thee to permit thy sister to answer for herself.” Mr. Owen spoke with great mildness but none the less firmly.
Harriet’s face became pale as he turned toward her. Her gaze clung to his as though fascinated.