“Yes,” answered the colonel huskily. “It was hard to break in upon your mirth, but I thought you would prefer to have me tell you than to hear it from another.”
“You are most kind, sir.” The youth’s voice trembled ever so little. “We were too merry, my cousin. ‘Against ill chances men are ever merry. But heaviness foreruns the good event.’” His tones were steady as he finished the quotation, and he added: “I am ready at any time.”
But at this Peggy uttered a cry.
“Now? Oh, that would be inhuman! Surely not now?”
“Nay,” said Colonel Dayton, alarmed by her paleness. “’Tis not as you think, child. He goes to the guard-house now. The sentence will not be carried out until to-morrow morning.”
“’Tis so sudden,” she protested piteously.
“Nay, Peggy, it hath been too long deferred,” demurred Clifford. “’Tis well to have the anxiety and suspense over. You must not give way.”
“But what can I do, Clifford? Thee has no one but me to do for thee. How can I comfort thee?”
“Dear little cousin,” he said softly, “you have done much already. Think what these last weeks would have been for me had you not stayed here. Be brave a little longer. The colonel will let me see you again.”
“Yes,” said Colonel Dayton briefly.