“Yes, mistress,” answered the driver, touching his hat.
Peggy started. He had given the military salute instead of the usual curtsey of the countryman. She looked at him intently. There was something strangely familiar about him, she thought, but he was so bundled up that she could only see his eyes. Whistling cheerfully the driver began to cord the wood as she directed.
“Thou art not o’erstrong for the work,” she commented as he struggled valiantly with a great stick. “I will send one of the stablemen to help thee.”
“Wait, Peggy,” he said in a low tone.
“John!” almost screamed the girl. “John Drayton!”
CHAPTER XXV—THE ALERT THAT FAILED
| “What gain we by our toils if he escape Whom we came hither solely to subdue?” —“Count Julian,” Landor. |
“Be careful,” warned Drayton, letting the stick fall with a crash. “Can you come to Rachel Fenton’s house in little Queen Street this morning? We can talk there.”
“Yes, yes,” cried Peggy eagerly. “I know where it is. I will go there from market. John, my mother——”
“Is well,” he answered quickly. “Don’t ask anything more now, but go in. ’Tis cold out here.”