CHAPTER XXVII
THE SAFEGUARD OF HIS HONOR
“Say, what is honor! ’Tis the finest sense
Of justice which the human mind can frame,
Intent each lurking frailty to disclaim,
And guard the way of life from all offense
Suffered or done.”
—Wordsworth.
At these words Peggy was much frightened, for she thought at once that they had fallen into the hands of the pine robbers. For the briefest second Clifford sat passive, then he let his riding whip fall in a stinging blow on the face of the fellow who held his bridle. With a howl of rage the man fell back, but sprang forward again as the youth, seizing the rein of Peggy’s little mare, attempted to make a dash for liberty. Had he been alone the effort might have succeeded, but hampered with a second horse the attempt was futile. The cousins were again surrounded, and Clifford was dragged unceremoniously from his saddle. He struggled fiercely with his assailants, managing to shake them off so as to reach Peggy’s side just as one ruffian was about to lift her from Star’s back.
“Away, sirrah!” he cried haughtily. “I will assist my cousin.”
“As you will, captain,” answered the man, falling back respectfully.
“Captain!” The cousins exchanged glances of surprise as the title fell from the man’s lips. What could it mean? Both of them were puzzled, but neither made any comment. Resistance to such a superior force was useless. Their captors were heavily armed, and Clifford, of course, had no weapons. Now as the leader issued a command to march the youth spoke:
“What is the meaning of this outrage? What do you want with us?”
“Young man,” returned the leader in a strong determined voice, “there is no personal harm designed either to you, or to the lady. If you remain silent and quiet you may reckon on good treatment; but if you resist——” He did not complete the sentence, but touched his pistol significantly.