“Thou hast become militaryish already, I see,” he said smiling. “I have found accommodations for us at a farmhouse very near Bound Brook. ’Tis just beyond General Greene’s brigade, and close enough to the Pennsylvania line not to interfere with active duty. There will be but five in our mess, as thee calls it, Peggy—Friend Decker and wife, thy mother, thyself and I. ’Tis Friend Decker’s house. Dutch they are, but patriots staunch and true. See, my wife! We are coming to General Washington’s headquarters. ’Tis a much better dwelling than he occupied last year at Valley Forge. To thy right, Peggy. ’Tis the farmhouse in the midst of the orchard.”
“Friend Deering hath sent some gold to the general by Peggy,” observed Mrs. Owen bending forward that she might the better see the building. “And there are supplies behind in the wagons for the soldiers. Two loads there are.”
“Now that is good news indeed,” exclaimed Mr. Owen. “The chief should know of it immediately. We will stop there now. ’Twill ensure the general a better night’s rest to receive such tidings. He hath been greatly worried lately over the apathy of the people toward the war.”
“Then if ’twill be of any comfort to him to learn of this small aid let us go to him at once, David,” said his wife.
The last bit of sunlight disappeared behind the hills as they turned from the road into the meadow in the centre of which stood the large two-story wooden dwelling where General Washington had established his quarters for the winter. But lately finished, it was considered a model of elegance for that section of the country, and was in truth most roomy and comfortable.
As the light faded, from the meadows and the hills sounded the drums, fifes and bugles in the retreat, or sunset drum beat. Scarcely had the music died away than all along the top of the mountain range the watch-fires of the sentinels blazed out suddenly.
“Oh!” gasped Peggy, her eyes glowing, “if I live long ’mid such surroundings methinks I shall feel equal to fighting the whole British army.”
“’Tis so with all new recruits, Peggy,” laughed her father. “Thee will not be so affected when the novelty wears off. And here is the dwelling. ’Twill not take us long to present our news to the general, and then for quarters.”
A few rods to the east of the mansion were about fifty tents erected for the use of the life-guard. Fires flamed before every tent, around which men were gathered, laughing, talking or singing. Peggy looked about with much curiosity, but her father hastened at once to the door of the dwelling, where stood an orderly.
“Will thee tell His Excellency that David Owen is without, and wishes to see him?” he asked. “’Tis important.”