“I have told thee,” she said quietly. “I will say no more. If thee chooses to doubt my word then thee must do so. I have spoke naught but truth. My cousin, thee will have to get another nurse. I am going back to my mother. ’Twas a mistake to come. I but did so because mother and I felt sorrow for thee alone down here with none of thy kin near, and perchance dying. ’Twas a mistake, I say, to have come, but I will trouble thee no longer. I shall start home to-day on my pony. The way is long, and lonely; but better loneliness and fatigue than suspicion and coldness. I hope thee will recover, my cousin. Farewell!”
She turned, standing very erectly, and started to leave the room. Before she had taken a half dozen steps, however, there came the quick beat of the mustering drum from the Market Green, and a hoarse shout from without:
“The British! The British are coming!”
CHAPTER XVI—THE TABLES TURNED
| “Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blushed—at the praise of their own loveliness.” —Byron. |
Instantly the little town was all commotion. From every quarter men came running in answer to the call, ready to defend their homes from the invader; while women huddled together in groups, or gathered their treasures and fled with them to the forest. Mustered at length, the militia, pitifully few in numbers, sallied forth to meet the enemy. From the southward came the strains of martial music as the British approached, and mothers, wives, and sisters waited in breathless suspense the result of the encounter.
The sound of a few shots was borne presently on the breeze, followed by the rush of running men, and the militia which had marched forth so bravely but a short time before, came flying back, panic stricken.
“There are thousands of them,” cried the panting men. “We could not stand against the whole British army.” On they ran, while from the other direction came the first division of Major-General Phillips’ army, the Queen’s Rangers, under Lieutenant-Colonel Simcoe, which marched in with drums beating, and colors flying.
At the first alarm Peggy had paused abruptly, hardly knowing what to do. Her first impulse had been to return to the cottage, but remembering that Fairfax was with the militia, and Nurse Johnson somewhere about the hospital, she hesitated. As she did so there came a peremptory voice from the bed:
“Mistress Peggy!”