“Clifford, don’t you care?” she wailed.
“Yes; I do, Harriet,” he answered gravely. “I care very much. I don’t want to die at all, particularly by hanging. I don’t suppose that Fairfax Johnson did either, but his wishes weren’t consulted in the matter. And they will remember that fact. It hath been said that he met death with great firmness and composure. I want to do as well.”
“I must do something,” she cried. “I cannot bear it unless I try to do something to save you.”
“Then, Harriet, you shall make any effort that you wish,” he said tenderly. “But do not ask for my life, my sister. Plead for a postponement, an you will; then go to Sir Guy. If you must humble yourself, let it be to your own commander. You are English, remember.”
“And Peggy shall go with me, Clifford,” she said.
“You will, will you not, my cousin?” he asked turning to her.
“If thee wishes it, Clifford,” answered Peggy gently.
“I do wish it. She should have some one with her who would prevent rashness. I cannot imagine where she got the idea——”
“It was John Drayton’s suggestion,” interrupted his sister. “He was the only one who seemed to have any idea what to do.”