A blare of bugles, the galloping of horses, the jingle of spurs and sabres filled the air. Peggy ran to the front window and looked out.
“’Tis a body of men in white uniforms,” she cried. “They are mounted upon fine horses, and are clattering down the lane toward the house.”
“’Tis Tarleton with his dragoons,” he exclaimed hastening to the window for a view of them.
“Then thee must hide,” ejaculated Peggy. “Quickly! They may search the place. Hurry, friend!”
“But you,” he said, making no move toward secreting himself.
“Go, go,” cried she impatiently. “I know Colonel Tarleton, and fear naught from him or his troopers. Hide, friend! Here, take the food with thee. ’Tis as well to eat while thee can.”
So insistent was she that the lad found himself hurried to a retreat behind some boxes in spite of himself. Peggy then hastened down-stairs to the good woman below. A quick glance at the girl told her that the boy was in hiding.
“And do you go to my room, child,” she said pointing to a door under the stairway. “We will make no attempt at concealment, but ’tis more retired. It may be that they will not stop long. Goodness knows, there is not much left to take.”
Peggy had scarcely gained the seclusion of the room ere the British cavalry dashed up.
“In the name of the king, dinner,” called Colonel Tarleton, loudly.