“Yes, Sally.”
“Thee may tell him that I think him the finest gentleman I ever knew. There! Of course, being thy kinsman, and because we are such friends, for thy sake, thee knows——”
“Yes, I know.” Peggy kissed Sally gently, then held her close. “I have not told Harriet a word,” she whispered. “Oh, Sally! Sally!”
They joined Clifford and his guards on the Bristol road. Peggy could not but reflect with what joyousness she and Sally had passed over this very road a few short months before. How much had happened since that time! Fairfax foully murdered, Clifford, her cousin, on his way to pay the penalty of the deed. Truly strange things were wrought in the warp and woof of time. So musing, for little conversation was held, the long hours of the day glided into the shadows of evening, and found them at Trenton where they were to bide for the night. Peggy suggested seeing Governor Livingston, but Harriet demurred at once.
“He would do naught for us, Peggy,” she declared. “Have you forgot that ’twas I who tried to effect his captivation at Middlebrook? ’Tis that very thing that makes me fearful of meeting General Washington. Were not my brother’s life at stake I would not chance it.”
The roads were in good condition, the business in hand most urgent, and so they journeyed from early morning until nightfall of each day with but short stops to refresh man and beast. Through Princeton, and along the banks of the Millstone to Kingston they rode. Here the road left the valley and began to ascend the heights, then along the banks of the Raritan River until Somerset Court House was reached. Peggy turned to Harriet.
“Does thee know where we are, my cousin?” she asked smiling.
“We are coming into Middlebrook,” answered Harriet gazing about her. “Does it cause you painful thoughts, Peggy? ’Twas here that first you knew me. ’Twas here that I played the spy. Ah! the huts where the soldiers dwelt are still standing. ’Tis most familiar, Peggy.”
“Nay, I am not pained at the recollection, Harriet. Thou art changed in many ways since then. I do not believe that thee would play the spy now.”
“You know not, Peggy. I do not know myself. If aught would result of benefit to England’s cause, I might. I have done other things. I do not know.”