“Captain Williams, I know how it irks you to be obliged to give me your parole; so, if you will go with Mr. Owen, or the major here, to General Hazen, he will receive your parole.”
For a moment Clifford struggled with himself. Then he said, and the effort it cost him was plainly visible:
“I can be as generous as you, sir. I give you my word of honor that I will make no attempt to escape while I am at large.”
“Thank you,” said Drayton simply. “You are at liberty to go with your relatives, sir.”
Peggy lingered for a second behind the others.
“Isn’t thee coming too, John?” she asked.
“Not to-day, Peggy. Clifford will enjoy it more if I am not there. Odds life! he did well to give that parole. He deserves to have one day free of me. But, Peggy, I’ll come out to-night, if I may. And don’t worry about that wagon. I’ll take it in hand while your father is not here.”
“Was there anything else contraband in the wagon, John?” she queried anxiously that evening when the two found themselves alone on the piazza.
“Yes. The quartermaster was about to turn it over to Major Gordon when I told him I would take another look through the contents. Peggy, in a barrel of vinegar was a water tight cask just filled with goods. That slight emphasis on ‘that’ lost the British a pretty penny. I was alone when ’twas found, Peggy, so that no one knows about it but us two. We won’t let your father, her brother, or Dale know about it. They all believe in her so, and I owe her something for what she did for me at Yorktown.”
“Perchance she really does not know any more about this than she did about the false bottom to the wagon, John.”