“Well, I hope the lad is well treated wherever he may be,” said the nurse musingly. “I should not like harm to befall him; he was so considerate of us. What is the outlook for another summer, Mr. Owen?”
“The general is preparing for another campaign, Friend Johnson. The preparations are proceeding slowly, however, owing to the exhaustion of the country. Then, too, every state seems afraid of bearing more than its share of the war. There is much disinclination to vigorous exertion. His Excellency is pleading and entreating that the people may not let the late success of our arms render them insensible to the danger we still face. There is talk of a new commander for the British, I hear. Meantime, our coasts are harassed by the enemy, and our commerce is all but stopped. Could the general have followed out his wish, and laid siege to Charlestown after the success at Yorktown, we need not have prepared for another campaign.”
And so the talk went on. It was never in the character and traditions of England to treat with an enemy in the hour of disaster. In its history treaties had, from time immemorial, followed upon victory, never upon defeat. It was therefore necessary as well as politic to grasp the full fruits of the brilliant success at Yorktown, and Washington, with the vigor which was one of the most striking traits of his well balanced nature, wished to carry its consequences to their utmost limit. But the French fleet under De Grasse refused to co-operate longer, and the general was forced to send his army back to the Hudson while he began preparations for another campaign. Meantime, the illicit trade assumed proportions that threatened to undo everything that had been gained by force of arms.
All these things were discussed, and Nurse Johnson gave them the latest news of the army in the South: General Greene had completely invested Charlestown, she said. General Wayne had been sent to Georgia and now lay before Savannah. The capitulation of the two places seemed but a question of time. The French still lay about Williamsburgh, having chosen that place for their winter quarters. It was reported that they would go north with the opening of spring. In turn, Mr. Owen told of the numerous raids that had been made, principally by refugees along the coast, the capture of the merchantmen, and the war at sea. Under cover of the conversation of their elders, Peggy was amused to see that Betty was talking animatedly to Fairfax Johnson. Presently, the dinner was finished, and she found herself alone in the dining-room with her girl friends.
“Peggy, thee maligned Captain Johnson,” declared Betty closing the door of the sitting-room. “Get me a towel, Sally. We will both wipe the dishes.” She polished a plate vigorously as she continued: “I found him most entertaining. He and his mother are going to northern New Jersey, where his aunt and uncle have a large farm. Plantation, he calls it. They grew very tired of being with the military so much at Williamsburgh, though no one could desire better troops than the allies. They intend to make their home in New Jersey if they like it. His aunt hath but one son, who is with the military on Tom’s River.”
Peggy gazed at her with an expression of the most intense astonishment.
“He told thee all that, Betty?” she exclaimed. “Why, thee is wonderful! In all the six or seven months that I knew him I never heard him say so much.”
“He needs just a little encouragement,” said Betty complacently. “He is really quite interesting. I enjoyed the conversation greatly. Sally Evans, whatever is the matter?”
“Oh! oh!” screamed Sally. “She enjoyed the conversation greatly. I should think she would. Why, she did all the talking. Robert and I commented upon it. Oh, Betty! Betty!”
“I did not do all the talking,” retorted Betty indignantly. “How could I have learned all the things I have said if I did the talking?”