"So we all hope and expect; and if they are only in good time, there will be no fear of the result."
"Fear! Who fears these upstart baronets and their insolent soldiers? Oh, how I wish women could fight! If the men can't drive them back, let us take the field, and Clinton shall never set his foot in the streets of Charleston;" and the brave little beauty looked as if she meant every word she said.
"The men cannot fail to be heroes when the eyes of such women are upon them," exclaimed the gallant colonel, looking with amused admiration at the lovely face all aglow with patriotic excitement. "But you must let us do the fighting, Miss Elliott, while you cheer and support us with your smiles and your prayers.—Peyton, what do you think would be the result of a charge by a squadron of ladies upon Tarleton's Legion?"
"I can't answer for Tarleton," laughingly replied the orderly, who had just entered the room, "but I am afraid I should throw down my arms and desert in the face of the enemy."
"You are an ungallant fellow, Peyton, to hint even that the ladies could ever be your enemies."
"Oh, do look there!" cried Miss Stead with a silvery laugh, and pointing through the open window: "shall we take the issue of that struggle as an omen?"
The whole party rushed to the window and looked out on the lawn. A brilliant redbird, the proximity of whose nest perhaps had fired his timid heart with courage, had made a savage assault on a bluejay, the colors of whose feathers were strikingly suggestive of the Continental uniform. For a moment the two combatants fluttered in angry strife, and the result seemed doubtful, when a female mocking-bird flew from her nest in the shrubbery and drove them both ingloriously from the field.
"That settles the matter," exclaimed Colonel Washington, laughing gayly. "If Governor Rutledge calls out the ladies, I shall throw up my commission at once, and retire in good order to the security of private life."
"Perhaps then Lieutenant Peyton would succeed to the command?" rejoined Miss Elliott, glancing archly at the young orderly.
"I am almost sorry that your corps has not been organized, miss, for I might then consider myself gazetted for promotion, and claim my lieutenant's commission over your signature." The young man spoke in a tone of gay badinage, but a shade of annoyance came over his features as he added with a slight bow, "I am only plain 'Mr.' Peyton as yet."