In this manner three days went by. At long distances apart were houses of some description, and many ruins, some of them smoldering.
On the afternoon of the third day Peggy was riding along slowly, thoroughly discouraged, when all at once from the dense woods that lined the roadway there emerged the form of a horseman.
He was hatless and disheveled in appearance, and he surveyed the road as though fearful of meeting a foe. As his glance fell upon the maiden he uttered an ejaculation, and dashed toward her.
“Peggy,” he cried staring at her in amaze, “what in the world are you doing down here in South Carolina? I thought you in Virginia by this time.”
“I would not be surprised if thee told me that I was in Africa,” answered poor Peggy half laughing, half crying. “I started for Virginia, but took a wrong turning, and seem to have kept on taking them ever since. I don’t want to be down here, but no one will come with me to guide me, and I always go wrong on the crossroads.”
In spite of the gravity of the situation Drayton, for it was he, laughed.
“Nay,” he said, “let me believe that you came down here to help me deliver my despatches to Marion. I will have to take you in charge. Let me think what to do. I have it! There is a farmhouse where Whigs are welcomed near here. You shall stay there until these papers are delivered, and then we shall see if something can’t be arranged.”
“Oh, thank thee, John,” cried she, mightily relieved. “’Tis so nice to have some one to plan. I shall do just as thee says, for I begin to believe that I am not so capable as I thought.”
“These winding roads are enough to confuse any one,” he told her. “You are not alone in getting lost, Peggy. Some of the soldiers do too, if they are not familiar with localities.”
Cheered by this meeting, Peggy’s spirits rose, and she chatted gaily, not noticing that Drayton kept looking behind them, and that he frequently rode a little ahead, as though he were on the lookout.