“You are o’er young, my son, to have the management of so serious an affair,” remarked Colonel Owen gravely. “Lord Cornwallis likes young men, and hath favored them upon many occasions when ’twould have been better to give preference to older men. However, if you see that his confidence is not misplaced we shall all be proud of you.”
“Have no fear, sir,” said Clifford pompously. “I have placed the prisoner in a small cottage where there is no possibility of holding communication with any one. He is not only well guarded, sir, but I have the door locked upon the outside, and I myself carry the key. Even Lord Cornwallis could not see him without first coming to me. Oh, I have provided well against any miscarriage of justice.”
“Thee must let me see him, Clifford,” spoke Peggy abruptly. “I shall never know peace unless I have his forgiveness. Thee will let me see him, my cousin?”
“What you ask, Peggy, is utterly impossible,” answered Clifford. “He shall not have one privilege. A spy deserves none. ’Twas not my desire that the execution should be deferred until morning. There should be no delay in such matters. Spies should be dealt with summarily.”
“You forget, son, that doctrine of that sort works both ways,” observed his father, smiling at the youth’s important air. “We have spies of our own in the enemy’s lines. Too great harshness of dealing will be retaliated upon our own men.”
“Clifford,” cried Peggy going to him, and laying her hand upon his arm pleadingly, “does thee not remember how he spared thee? He could have slain thee when he had thee at his mercy. Thee will not refuse me one little hour with him, my cousin.”
“I shall not grant one minute,” returned he sternly. The look which she had seen when he refused to greet Harriet until satisfied of her loyalty came now to his face. “He shall not have one privilege.”
“’Twould be inhuman not to permit it, Clifford. ’Tis not justice thee seeks, but the gratifying of thine own rancor toward him.”
“She is right, my son,” spoke Colonel Owen. “You lay yourself open to that very charge. To guard closely against escape is right. To take every precaution against the miscarriage of the sentence is duty. But to refuse a small privilege is not only against the dictates of humanity, but ’tis impolitic as well. The vicissitudes of war are many, and by sad fortune you might find yourself in the same condition as this young fellow. ’Tis the part of wisdom to grant what one can in such cases.”
“Captain Williams needs no instructions as to his duty, sir,” returned Clifford hotly.