“Oh, the general’s home! The general’s beautiful home will be burned!”
With the words came a realization of the necessity for action. With an effort she threw off the numbing dread that beset her, and turning fled swiftly to the mansion. As she reached the porch Mr. Lund Washington came to the door.
“You are just in time,” he called cheerily. “Breakfast is ready, and Mrs. Washington feared if you lingered much longer ’twould be cold. Is not the view——Why! what hath happened?” he broke off catching sight of her pale face.
“The British!” panted Peggy. “The British are coming up the river!”
With an exclamation of alarm Mr. Washington sprang past her and hurried toward the wharf. At the same moment cries and shouts rent the air and from all over the plantation the negroes came running. Some were ashen with terror, and ran into the house weeping and wailing. The bolder spirits gathered on the banks of the river to watch the approach of the vessel. From the mansion came Mrs. Lund Washington and Mrs. Johnson, alarmed by the outcries and uproar of the darkies.
“And what is it, my dear?” asked Mrs. Washington as Peggy sank weakly on the steps of the porch. “Why are you so pale? Know you the cause of the commotion?”
“It’s the British,” repeated the maiden fearfully. “A British ship is coming.”
“A British ship!” Each woman’s face paled at the words. They were fraught with such awful meaning. They too stood stricken as Peggy had been with terror. Then Mrs. Washington spoke calmly, but it was with the calmness of despair:
“Let us not despond. It may be that they will exempt this place from destruction. Let us hope.”
“No,” said Peggy with conviction. “They will not spare it. ’Tis our general’s home. They have tried so many times to capture him; there have been so many plots to kill him, or for his betrayal, that anything that can strike a blow at his heart will be used. I fear, oh, I fear the worst!”