“Yes,” spoke Mrs. Owen overhearing the words. “David says that as soon as ye have donned your wraps ’twill be time to go.”
Peggy and Sally were Quaker maidens, well drilled in art of self-repression, so they made no scene as they bade their mothers farewell, and took leave of Nurse Johnson, her son and Robert Dale. In spite of their training, however, their eyes were wet, and neither was able to speak for a few moments after they left the house. Then Sally broke the silence.
“Peggy,” she said, “after this I shall always have the greatest sympathy for the poor wretches who are executed. I feel just as though I was about to be hanged.”
“So do I, Sally. How great a change is wrought by war! A few short years ago neither of us thought to be called before the highest tribunal of the state. How happy we were before this awful war with its weary years of fighting came! Then we had no thought of sorrow, and friend was not against friend, misconstruing every act and deed of kindness.”
“I think I would not pursue that line of talk, lassies,” commented David Owen who walked in front of them. “See how brightly the sun shines! How blue the sky is! Beyond that azure is One in the hollow of whose hand ye are. Have courage.”
“Yes, Mr. Owen,” gasped Sally, stopping abruptly as they reached the walk leading to the State House entrance. “Yes; but what hath happened to the State House? ’Tis so big. I knew not that ’twas so large.”
Peggy stopped too and looked up at the State House, which stood some twenty-five or thirty feet back from the street. It was large, she reflected, its size impressing for the first time in her life with a sense of awe. She had always lived across from the building. Had loved it, and had been proud of the fact that it was deemed the most imposing edifice in the new world; now its aspect was one of forbidding unfamiliarity. David Owen gave them no time to indulge in fears, but hurried them at once along the walk and up the flight of five steps which led to the entry. The door opening into the East Chamber stood ajar. He glanced toward it quickly.
“The Congress is in session,” he remarked. “There are matters of import before it to-day, I hear. His Excellency meets with it.”