Chapter XXIV: The Reason Why

"Yet remember this:
God and our good cause fight upon one side."

--"Richard III," Act 5.

It was seven o'clock before Peggy awakened the next morning. With an exclamation at her tardiness in rising she dressed hastily, and went down-stairs. Colonel Owen and Harriet were already in the dining-room at breakfast. They brightened visibly as the maiden returned their greetings serenely, and took her place at the table.

"So you have determined to accept the situation," observed Colonel Owen, giving her a keen glance.

"Until a way is opened for me to leave, sir," replied Peggy.

"Which will be at my pleasure," he rejoined. But to this she made no reply. "I am assisting Colonel Montressor, who is in charge of the defenses of the city," he remarked presently. "When your horses are well rested you girls shall ride about with me."

"We have been riding almost every day the past winter with father," said Peggy, trying not to choke over the word. "The weather hath been so pleasant that it hath been most agreeable for riding. There are pretty rides over the hills and dales near the camp."

"You will find them no less beautiful here," he assured her. "And now I must go. Sir Henry will wish to see you during the day, Harriet."

"Very well," she answered. "And I must see about some new frocks, father. I misdoubt that my boxes will be sent after me from the rebel camp. Mr. Washington will not be so thoughtful anent the matter as Sir Henry was. I shall need a number of new ones."

"More gowns, Harriet!" he exclaimed. "You will ruin me by your extravagance. Haven't you anything that will do?"

"I dare say that I can make shift for a time," she replied. "But la! what's the use of being in His Majesty's service unless one profits by it?"

"That seems to be the opinion of every one connected with it," he observed grimly.

"Harriet," spoke Peggy timidly, uncertain as to the manner her proposition would be received, "I can sew very well indeed. Let me bring some of thy old frocks up to the mode. 'Twill save thy father money, and in truth things are monstrously high. That was one reason mother and I joined father in camp. Thee admired that cream brocade of mine that was made from mother's wedding gown. Let me see if I cannot do as well with some of thy finery."

"That's all very well for you rebels," spoke Harriet with some scorn, "but when one is with English nobility 'tis another matter. Father, what do you think? They sometimes wore homespun at camp even to the dinners. They were always busy at something, and now here Peggy wants to get right into sewing. Americans have queer ideas of amusement."

"If there is one thing that I admire about the Americans 'tis the manner in which they bring up their daughters," remarked her father with emphasis. "I have yet to see a girl of these colonies who was not proficient in housewifely arts. If Peggy can help you fix over some of your things let her. And do try to pattern after her thrifty ways, Harriet."

"Peggy is quite welcome to fix them for herself," said Harriet with a curl of her lips, and a slight shrug of her shoulders. "I shall get some new ones."

Colonel Owen sighed, but left the room without further protest. The conversation set Peggy to thinking, and observing. There was indeed luxury on every hand, but there was also great waste. Wherever the British army settled they gave themselves up to such amusements as the city afforded or they could create. Fear, fraud and incompetence reigned in every branch of the service, and between vandalism and the necessities of war New York suffered all the woes of a besieged city. In the endeavor to keep pace with his spendthrift superiors her cousin's household expenditures had run into useless excess.

Harriet plunged at once into the gaiety of the city with all the abandon of her nature, and Peggy, much against her inclination, was of necessity compelled to enter into it also. There were rides every clear day which revealed the strong defenses of the city. New York was in truth but a fortified camp. A first line of defense extended from the heights of Corlear's Hook across the island to the Hudson. There was still another line further up near the narrow neck of land below Fort Washington, while a strong garrison guarded the outlying post of Kingsbridge. Peggy soon realized that unless she was given wings she could never hope to pass the sentinels. Every afternoon in the Grand Battery along the bay a German band of hautboys played for the amusement of the officers and townspeople, and here Peggy met many of the young "macaroni" officers or feminine "toasts" of the city. She grew weary of the incessant round of entertainments. There had been much social intercourse at the camp, but it had been tempered by sobriety, and life was not wholly given up to it. Peggy resolved that she would have to occupy herself in other ways.

"Cousin William," she said one morning, seeking Colonel Owen in his study, where he sat looking over some papers with a frowning brow, "may I talk with thee a little?"

"Is it anent the matter of home?" he queried. "I can do nothing, Peggy. You will have to stay here. We can't have a rebel come into our lines and then leave, you know."

"I know," she answered sorrowfully. "I want to go home, but 'twas not of that I came to speak."

"Of what then?" he asked.

"Thee lives so well," she said with a blush at her temerity, "and yet, sir, there is so much waste. Thee could live just as well yet there need be no excess. I wish, Cousin William, that thee would let me look after the household while I am here. I care naught for the pleasurings, and 'twould occupy me until such time as thee would let me go home," she added a trifle wistfully. "I could not do so well as mother, but yet I do feel that I could manage more thriftily than thy servants."

"Peggy," he cried springing to his feet, "I hoped for this. You owe me a great deal, and 'tis as well to begin to pay some of your debt. That is why I brought you here."

"I owe thee anything?" she asked amazed. "How can that be?"

"Think you that I have forgotten the time spent in your house, my little cousin? Think you that I, an officer in His Majesty's service, do not resent that I was given in exchange for a dragoon?"

"If thee thinks that I owe thee anything, my cousin, I will be glad to pay it," said Peggy regarding him with wondering, innocent eyes. "I am sorry thee holds aught against me."

Colonel Owen had the grace to blush.

"Harriet hath no housewifely tastes," he said hastily, "and my son shares her extravagant habits. Between them and the necessity of maintaining a position befitting an officer, I am like to come to grief. You are a good little thing, after all, Peggy. And now let me take you about and put you in charge."

And thus it came that Peggy found herself installed at the head of her cousin's household. The position was no sinecure. She made mistakes, for never before had she been thrown so entirely upon her own resources, but she had been well trained, and the result was soon apparent in the lessened expenditures. The experience was of great benefit to her, and she grew womanly and self-reliant under the charge. Her cousin's manner too underwent a most pleasing transformation. He was kindly, and but seldom made cutting and sarcastic speeches at her expense. Upon the other hand, she was subjected to a petty tyranny from Harriet quite at variance with her former deportment.

And the spring passed into summer; summer waxed and waned, and in all that time there had come no word from her father or mother, nor had there been opportunity for her to send them any. That the war was going disastrously against the patriots in the South she could not but gather from the rejoicings of the British. Of the capture of Stony Point on the Hudson by the Americans she was kept in ignorance. The influx of a large body of troops and militia into the city, the surrounding of the island by forty men-of-war, told that Sir Henry Clinton feared attack. And so the summer passed.

In December the troops from Rhode Island were hastily withdrawn, the city strongly fortified, and everything indicated a movement of some kind. Peggy tried to ascertain what it was, but for some time could not do so. The snow which had begun falling in November now increased in the frequency of the storms, scarcely a day passed without its fall. The cold became severe, and ice formed in rivers and bay until at length both the Hudson and Sound rivers were frozen solidly. The bay also became as terra firma, and horses, wagons and artillery passed over the ice to Staten Island.

"Is our stock of fire-wood getting low, Peggy?" inquired Colonel Owen one morning, laying down the "Rivington Gazette" which he was reading. "The paper speaks of the growing scarcity of wood, and says that if the severe weather continues we will be obliged to cut down the trees in the city for fuel."

"I ordered some yesterday from the woodyards," Peggy told him. She was standing by one of the long windows overlooking the frozen Hudson. How near New Jersey seemed. Men and teams were at that moment passing over the ice on their way to and from the city. How easy it looked to go across. She turned to him suddenly. "How much longer am I to stay, Cousin William?" she asked.

"Till the war closes," he said laughing. As a shadow passed over her face he added: "And that won't be much longer, my little cousin. There is a movement on foot that is going to bring it to a close before you realize what hath happened. We have at last got your Mr. Washington in a cul de sac from which he cannot escape."

"Where is General Washington, my cousin?" asked she quickly.

"On the heights of Morristown, in New Jersey. Nay," he laughed as a sudden eager light flashed into her eyes, "you cannot reach him, Peggy. If you could get through the lines, which you cannot, for the guards have been increased to prevent surprise, you could not go through the forest. The snow lies four feet on the level. You could not get through the woods. But cheer up! I promise you a glimpse of your hero soon. The war is on its last legs."

Peggy gazed after him with troubled eyes as he left the room. What was the new movement on foot? Pondering the matter much she went about the duties of the day. About the middle of the forenoon an ox cart with the wood she had ordered drove into the stable yard. She uttered an exclamation of vexation as she saw the ragged heap which the driver was piling. Throwing a wrap about her she hurried into the yard where the team was.

"Friend," she called severely, for Peggy looked well to the ways of the household, "that is not the way to unload the wood. It must be corded so that it can be measured."

"Yes, mistress," answered the driver, touching his hat.

Peggy started. He had given the military salute instead of the usual curtsey of the countryman. She looked at him intently. There was something strangely familiar about him, she thought, but he was so bundled up that she could only see his eyes. Whistling cheerfully the driver began to cord the wood as she directed.

"Thou art not o'erstrong for the work," she commented as he struggled valiantly with a great stick. "I will send one of the stablemen to help thee."

"Wait, Peggy," he said in a low tone.

"John!" almost screamed the girl. "John Drayton!"