“You are to take my horse Cato, and ride with this message to the British barrier at King’s Bridge. It is for the officer in command there. When the sentries challenge you, show this, and say it is of the greatest consequence and must be delivered at once.”
“Yes, Miss Elizabeth.”
“The commander,” she went on, “will probably send here a body of troops at once, to convey this prisoner within the lines. You are to return with them. If no time is lost, and they send mounted troops, you should be back in an hour.”
Peyton could hardly repress a start.
“An hour at most, miss, if nothing stops,” said the negro.
“If any officer of my acquaintance is in command,” said Elizabeth, “there will be no delay. Cuff shall let the troops in, through that hall, as soon as they arrive.”
Whereupon the black man, a stalwart and courageous specimen of his race, went rapidly from the room.
“One hour!” murmured Peyton, looking at the clock.
Molly, the maid, now reappeared, carrying carefully in one hand a cup, from which a thin steam ascended.