“There is not so much danger of that,” said Harriet. “Clifford said that while they seemed to be throwing up earthworks there had been no big guns mounted, and he did not believe that the rebels had many. ’Twould be a great task to transport heavy ordnance from the Hudson.”
“But they have had the assistance of the French fleet,” reminded Peggy. “Thee should know by this time, Harriet, that if General Washington undertakes aught, he does it thoroughly. I fear we shall find soon that he hath brought all his artillery.”
As if to confirm her words there came at this moment a deafening crash, a tearing, screeching sound, as a solid shot tore through the upper story of the house. The two maidens sprang to their feet, clasping each other in terror. Long after Peggy learned that it was Washington himself who had fired the shot. Instantly the roar of cannon and mortars followed. The earth trembled under the thunder. The air was filled with shot and shell, and roar of artillery. The bombardment of the town had begun, and Earl Cornwallis had received his first salutation.
In the midst of the commotion Clifford came running.
“Get to the caves,” he shouted. “Ye must not stay here.”
Panic-stricken, the girls hastened after him to the bluff over the river in the side of which caves had been dug in anticipation of this very event.
“You should not be here, Peggy,” said the youth when they had reached the protection of the dugout. “If you wish I will try to get a flag to send you outside. ’Tis no place for a rebel.” This last he spoke with some bitterness.
“And leave me alone, Peggy?” cried Harriet in dismay. “Oh, you would not!”
“No, Harriet,” answered Peggy who in truth would have preferred almost any place to Yorktown at that moment. “I will not leave thee if thee wishes me to stay.”
“Then ye must go over to Gloucester Point,” cried the lad. “’Tis said that all the women and children are to be sent there.”