“Suppose we go too,” said Robert Dale, addressing Fairfax. “We might be of assistance to the sheriff.”
The three left the room, and the women and the girls drew close together while overhead, in every room, and without in the barn and other buildings the search was prosecuted. Nurse Johnson shivered as the sounds of the hunt came to them.
“A man hunt is always such a dreadful thing,” she remarked. “And whether it be for a slave or an enemy, I find my sympathy going with the hunted. I hope they won’t find this poor fellow. Yet I have no love for the English.”
“Thee is like the rest of us,” replied Mistress Owen. “A good hater of the enemy in the aggregate, but a commiserator of one who happens to be in a plight. Peggy, how restless thee is!”
“I am, mother,” answered Peggy rising, and going to the window. “This hath upset me.”
“It is in truth a most unpleasant ending to an otherwise pleasant day,” commented her mother.
Peggy made no further remark, but wandered restlessly about, finally going into the dining-room. She was filled with apprehension lest at any moment Clifford’s hiding-place should be discovered. He must not stay, she reflected. It was no longer safe to conceal him anywhere on the premises. But where could he go? At this point in her musings she felt an arm slip about her waist, and turned to find Sally Evans beside her.
“And who is it, Peggy?” whispered Sally. “I know that ’tis some one thee knows, else thee would not have helped him.”
“Oh, Sally! how did thee know that ’twas I who helped any one?” asked Peggy alarmed. “Did I show it so plainly? Does thee think the sheriff could tell that I knew aught?”