“Did you call, sir?” called one, saluting as he saw the uniform of the young man.
“I fell,” answered Clifford, stooping to pick up the sword that Peggy had let fall. “Perchance I cried out as I did so. The embankment would be a steep one to fall down. Does the army stop here? I sent word to the general there was no forage to be had, and to pass on to Hanover Court House. I found no place where he would fare so well as at Tilghman’s Ordinary.”
“’Tis for that place he is bound, sir,” replied the soldier, saluting again. “But a few of us delayed here to—to——” he paused, then added: “Shall we go through that enclosure there, captain?”
“My own little mare is there, Clifford,” spoke Peggy indignantly.
“Which we will bring ourselves, men,” he said dismissing them with a curt nod. “You will wish to ride her, of course, my cousin.”
“If I go with you,” she answered.
“There is no ‘if’ about it,” he said grimly. “You are going.”
“‘As my nearest male relative in this part of the country’ I suppose thee commands it,” she observed with biting sarcasm. “Clifford, does thee forget that I am an Owen as well as thou?”
“I do not,” he made answer.
“I think thee does,” she cried. “An Owen, my cousin, with the Owen temper. ’Tis being tried severely by thee. I know not how much longer I can control it.”