“Upon my life,” he cried laughing heartily at this. “I shall advise General Washington to appoint you to take charge of our fainthearted ones. So he did not relish being called a summer soldier, eh? Miss Peggy, I believe that I should like to see the lad, and have a talk with him.”
“Thee will not be harsh with him, will thee?” she pleaded. “He hath indeed been in a woeful plight, and he could not bear it from thee. And he doth consider the country ungrateful toward him.”
“He is right,” commented Arnold, a frown contracting his brow. “Ungrateful indeed! Not only he but others have suffered from her injustice. Have no fear, Miss Peggy, but take me to him at once.”
Nevertheless Peggy felt some uneasiness as the coach turned in the direction of her home.
CHAPTER XII—ANOTHER CHANCE
| “Thy spirit, Independence, let me share, Lord of the lion-heart and eagle eye; Thy steps I follow, with my bosom bare, Nor heed the storm that howls along the sky. Immortal Liberty, whose look sublime Hath bleached the tyrant’s cheek in every varying clime.” —Smollett. |
Drayton was lying on the settle when Peggy announced General Arnold. He sprang to his feet with an exclamation as the latter entered, and then shrank back and hung his head.
“You, you,” he murmured brokenly. “Oh, how can you bear to see me?”
“And is it thus we meet again, Drayton?” said the general, all the reserve and hauteur of his manner vanishing before the distress of his former soldier.
“’Twas cold,” muttered Drayton too ashamed to raise his head. “I—I feared it sir. You cannot understand,” he broke out. “How can a man of your courage know how such things eat the very heart out of a fellow?”