“Drayton?” exclaimed Clifford, surprised out of his composure. “Why, that is strange!”
“They are coming for us, Harriet,” spoke Peggy. “We shall have to go.”
“But I have not yet begun to talk,” cried Harriet protestingly. “Why do they make the interview so short?”
“It is pleasant to have one at all, my sister. ’Tis an indulgence that is not often granted in such cases. Beside, you have leave to come again to-morrow, and if you go to Philadelphia there will, no doubt, be opportunity for conversation upon the road.”
But as Harriet passed through the door Clifford laid a detaining hand upon Peggy’s arm.
“My cousin,” he said speaking rapidly, “you have always spoken truth to me, and I want you to do so now. Does Cousin David think there is aught of use in Harriet’s seeing the Congress, or General Washington?”
Peggy’s lips quivered, and her eyes filled.
“Father said last night, my cousin, that there was but one hope,” she said mournfully. “’Tis the talk of the barracks that Captain Lippencott should be given up to us. If he hath an atom of honor, rather than have an innocent person suffer for his deed, he will give himself up as soon as he hears of this. Every one says this, Clifford.”
“And that is the only hope, Peggy?”