“That was it, Peggy. I knew that you would know that he had joined us some time, but I hoped that it could be kept from you until you were stronger.”
“Thee is very thoughtful,” said Peggy her eyes filling at this kindness. “Still, Clifford, ’tis as well to know it now. Time could not allay one pang caused by treachery.”
“Peggy,” said her cousin abruptly, “you talked with him, did you not?”
“Yes, Clifford.”
“And do you consider him sincere when he says that the reason for his desertion is that he was sent to serve under the Marquis de Lafayette?”
“No,” she returned apathetically. “No, Clifford.”
“Ah!” he cried triumphantly. “I thought so. You think with me, then, my little cousin, that the fellow is a spy?”
“A spy?” A light flashed into the girl’s eyes, and she looked at him eagerly. It faded as quickly as it came, however, and she shook her head sadly. “He is no spy,” she said. “I would he were, so that he was true to liberty.”
“Then I beg of you to tell me his true reason for deserting,” he urged. “I like him not; nay, nor do I trust him, yet if he be sincere in renewing his allegiance to our king then I will give o’er my suspicions regarding him.”
“I believe that ’twas caused by General Arnold,” she told him. “Last spring when he was here in Williamsburg he boasted that John would soon be fighting with him. He hath won him from his duty through his affection, for John loved him greatly. I doubt not his sincerity,” she concluded with such anguish in her tones that Harriet was touched.