“It looks to be an important post,” commented the English maiden with a glance around that embraced all the grim redoubts of the lofty summits. “Had we obtained it the misfortune at Yorktown would not have occurred.”
“Perchance not, lass. Here we are at the sally-port of the fort. I will turn you girls over to Mrs. Knox for the night, while I find quarters elsewhere. I for one am glad to reach here. It hath been hard riding. Are ye not tired?”
“I am, father,” answered Peggy wearily. “And yet I have been delighted with the beautiful river.”
“And I also,” agreed her cousin.
With the morning came the realization of the matter which had brought them. The noble river with its superb amphitheater of mountains no longer had power to enthrall their senses. Clifford’s fate rested upon the result of the interview before them, and that was the thing which now concerned them. Newburgh, where General Washington’s headquarters were, was not far distant. A ride of a few hours brought them to the southern extremity of the village, where the Hasbrouck house was situated. It was a farmhouse, constructed in the Dutch fashion, on the west side of the Hudson. The front stoop faced the river, and a beautiful picture of mountains, sky and water was spread before the eye, but it extorted but a passing glance.
The army was at West Point, and only the life-guards were near the quarters of the commander-in-chief. Hence, there was lacking much of the bustle and movement which ordinarily existed about the chief’s quarters. An orderly took charge of their horses, and presently they were ushered into a large room which served as office as well as dining-room for the general. He sat now before a small table looking over some papers, but rose as they entered the room. He looked weary, and there were tired lines upon the strong face, but his manner was courteously attentive.
“Ah, Mr. Owen,” he said shaking hands cordially with David Owen. “I am glad to see you. I have excellent reports of the work you are doing in Lancaster. Miss Peggy, ’tis long since I have had the pleasure of seeing you. And—Miss Harriet!”
The smile died from his lips as he uttered her name. General Washington had an excellent memory for faces and events. Harriet’s duplicity at Middlebrook was not easily forgotten; so his expression changed, and his face grew stern and cold. Harriet’s color faded and she began to tremble. Nevertheless she sank in a deep courtesy before him.
“It was my understanding,” he continued, “that you were banished from our lines. If this be true how is it that we are favored with your company?”
“Sir,” she answered, gaining control over herself and speaking in a steady voice, “’tis true that I was banished to New York; but I think you will find that ’twas only from Philadelphia. I did not understand that it was from the entire line. I know, your Excellency, that I have no right to come to you to ask a favor. I have no claim by which I can urge even consideration. Still, I do ask mercy. I do entreat you to use clemency; not because I deserve it, but because I do not believe that you would be guilty of aught that savored of inhumanity or barbarity.”