“It’s—it’s all up,” he said leaning against the door white and shaken. “I’m done for!” And he fell limply to the floor.
CHAPTER VIII—PEGGY’S RESOLVE
| “Stand! the ground’s your own, my braves! Will ye give it up to slaves? Will ye to your homes retire? Look behind you! They’re afire! And, before you, see Who have done it!—From the vale On they come!—And will ye quail?” —John Pierpont. |
In an instant Peggy was out of the stable and running to the house.
“Mother,” she cried bursting in upon Mrs. Owen so suddenly that the lady started up in alarm, “the lad that mended my saddle is in the stable. He hath brought Star back, and I fear he hath fainted. Come quickly!”
“Fainted?” exclaimed the lady rising hastily. “And Star back? Tell Sukey to follow with Tom, Peggy.”
Seizing a bottle of cologne and a vinaigrette she went quickly to the barn followed by Peggy and the two curious servants.
“’Tis lack of nourishing food more than aught else that ails him,” was Mrs. Owen’s comment as she laved the youth’s forehead with vinegar, and bade Sukey burn some feathers under his nose. “Peggy, get the guest-chamber in readiness. We will carry him in as soon as he hath regained his consciousness.”
The girl hastened to do her bidding, and presently the lad, by this time recovered from his swoon, was put to bed, and the household all a bustle with preparing gruel and delicacies. Shortly after partaking of food, he gave a sigh of content and fell into a deep sleep. And then Peggy turned to her mother.
“Are we to keep him?” she queried.