But Peggy knew that now was the time to drive the lesson home, so steeling her heart to pity, she continued the pamphlet, closing with the peroration which was such a battle call as might almost startle slain patriots from their graves:
“‘Up and help us; lay your shoulders to the wheel; better have too much force than too little, when so great an object is at stake. Let it be told to the future world, that in the depth of winter, when nothing but hope and virtue could survive, the country and city, alarmed at one common danger, came forth to meet and repulse it.... It matters not where you live, or what rank of life you hold, the evil or the blessing will reach you all.... The heart that feels not now is dead. The blood of his children will curse his cowardice who shrinks back at a time when a little might have saved the whole, and made them happy. I love the man that can smile in trouble, that can gather strength from distress, and grow brave by reflection. ’Tis the business of little minds to shrink; but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles until death.... By perseverance and fortitude, we have the prospect of a glorious issue; by cowardice and submission the sad choice of a variety of evils,—a ravaged country, a depopulated city, habitations without safety, and slavery without hope. Look on this picture and weep over it; and if there yet remains one thoughtless wretch who believes it not, let him suffer it unlamented.’”
“No more,” cried the youth in great agitation. “I can bear no more. ‘’Tis the business of little minds to shrink; but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles until death.’ ’Tis true. Do not I know it. Until death! Until death! Wretch that I am, I know it. There have been times when I would have given my life to be back in the army. Do you think it is pleasant to skulk, to hide from honest men? To know always and always that one is a poltroon and a coward? I tell you no. Do you think that I have not heard the inward pleading of my conscience to go back? That I have not seen the accusing look in your eyes? You called me a summer soldier! I am worse than that, and I have lost my chance.”
“Thee has just found it, John,” cried she quickly. “Before thee served for thine own advancement; now thee will begin again, and fight for thy country alone. If preferment comes to thee, it will have been earned by unselfish devotion. But thy country, John, thy country! Let it be always in thy thoughts until its liberties are secured beyond recall.”
“Would you have me go back?” he cried, stopping before her in amazement.
“Why, of course thee is going back,” answered Peggy simply. “There is naught else for a man to do.”
Drayton noted the slight emphasis the girl laid upon the word man, and made an involuntary motion of assent.
“Did you know that deserters are ofttimes shot?” he asked suddenly.
Peggy clutched at the back of a chair, and turned very pale. “No,” she said faintly. “I did not know.”
“I thought not,” he said. “None the less what you have said is true. ‘There is naught else for a man to do.’ I am going back, Mistress Peggy. I shall try for another chance, but if it does not come, still I am going back.”