“I must not go with John,” was her decision. “He must get to the general without delay. They said ’twould end the war if he were taken. And it would. It would! I wonder what the time is?”
It was but half-past two, and it seemed to the anxious girl as though four o’clock, which was the time for Drayton’s appearance, would never come. But at last she heard the clock in the hall chime out the hour, and Peggy arose, wrapped herself warmly, and left the house quietly. The snow was still falling. The numerous trees on the wide-spreading lawn, as well as the huge snow-drifts, effectually hid the road from view of the mansion.
Peggy had scarcely taken her position near a bare thicket when she heard the crunch of wheels over the snow, and soon the ox cart appeared down the road. Drayton was whistling, and to all appearance was the countryman he seemed. Peggy awaited him with impatience.
“John,” she cried as the lad drew up opposite her, “John, there is an alert planned to take General Washington. Cousin William starts at nightfall for Morristown with a force to accomplish it.”
“What?” exclaimed he. Peggy repeated her statement, and then quickly told him the entire affair.
“And thee must lose no time,” she said. “Go right on, John, quickly.”
“And you, Peggy?” he cried. “Jump in and let us take the risk of getting through together.”
“No,” she said. “Thee must stop for nothing. ’Twould hinder thee in getting to the general. Now go, John. ’Twill not be long ere the troops gather here.”
“But to leave you, Peggy,” he exclaimed. “I like it not. Were it not for the chief I would not. It may be best. As you say there is need for haste, but I will come again for you.”
“No, no; ’tis too full of risk,” she said. “Go, John, go! I fear for thee every moment that thee stays.”