“Nay,” Sally whispered back. “I knew because I know thee so well. Thee remembers I thought I heard thee talking with some one in the kitchen. Who is it?”
“Clifford,” whispered Peggy.
“Harriet’s brother?” asked Sally, after a little gasp of surprise.
“Yes; he hath escaped from Lancaster, and is trying to get to New York. I could not do otherwise than help him, Sally. He would not have come here had not the storm rendered traveling difficult. But father must not know. ’Twould go hard with him were it known that he assisted Clifford, if he should assist him. He might not do it. Thee knows how he feels about such things. He might deem it right to give Clifford up even though he be our cousin. I want father to do right, Sally, but I don’t want Clifford given up, either.”
“Why, of course thee doesn’t,” answered Sally briskly. “And of course, Peggy, ’tis quite right for thy father to feel as he does. I dare say Robert and Fairfax feel the same toward any who is an enemy to the country. ’Tis right for them, but we females are made of softer stuff. Don’t worry, but let thy cousin go home with me. Mother and I will be glad to conceal him until the weather permits him to continue his journey.”
“Oh, Sally! does thee mean that?” cried Peggy breathlessly.
“I do, Peggy. Thee would be surprised to know how many of the British we have helped during the war. As a whole I dislike them intensely,” and Sally drew her lips together vindictively. “When there is a battle I rejoice when we defeat them; but when any of them are in trouble, or danger, I never can think of them only as mothers’ sons, and so, and so——”
Peggy leaned forward and kissed her.
“I think thee is the dearest girl in the world, Sally Evans,” she said. “Does thee remember that there is a penalty for harboring escaping prisoners?”
“Well, yes; but friendship would not be worth much if it were not willing to incur some risk,” answered her friend sagely. “Where is he?”