“I know that, my lad,” spoke the general, markedly pleased by this devotion. “But now a truce to that, and let us consider your case. Miss Peggy here tells me that you wish to return to the army?”
“I do,” said the youth earnestly. “Indeed, General Arnold, no one could help it about her. She gave me no peace until I so declared myself.”
“I understand that she read ‘The Crisis’ to you,” said Arnold, a smile playing about his lips. “But you, Drayton. Aside from that, is it your wish to return to the army? It hath ofttimes been in my thoughts of late to obtain a grant of land and retire thereto with such of my men as were sick and weary of the war. I have in truth had some correspondence anent the subject with the state of New York. Would you like to be one of my household there?”
“Beyond anything,” spoke Drayton eagerly. “But not until I have redeemed myself, general. Were I to go before you would always be wondering if I would not fail you at some crucial moment. You have won your laurels, sir, and deserve retirement. But I have mine to gain. Give me another chance. That is all I ask.”
“You shall have it, Drayton. Come with me, and I will send you with a note to General Washington. He hath so much of friendship for me that because I ask it he will give you the chance you wish.”
“But the uniform,” interposed Peggy who had been a pleased listener to the foregoing conversation. “I made him a uniform, Friend Arnold. Should he not wear it?”
“’Twould be most ungallant not to, Miss Peggy,” returned the commander laughing.
“I knew not that you had made it,” exclaimed Drayton as Peggy disappeared, and returned with the uniform in question. “Why, ’tis but a short time since I said that I would go back. How could you get it done so soon?”
Peggy laughed.
“It hath been making a long time,” she confessed. “Mother helped me with dyeing the cloth, but all the rest I did myself. I knew that thee would go back from the first.”