im mantle."

"There were times when I thought he liked it as well as we did, Peggy.
And he was beginning to hold his own with us. There was wit in the
conceit of naming his horse after both of us."

"I wonder what became of that horse," exclaimed Peggy. "Would that
Friend Ashley had it! He hath need of it for his trips into Freehold."

"The enemy must have taken it. They destroyed everything that they did
not take, and horses are valuable plunder. I saw naught of any animal
after the town was burned."

Both maidens became silent at the mention of that dreadful time.
Neither willingly spoke of it, and any reference to the affair was
casual. Peggy stooped and picked a sprig of tender grass, and began to
bite it meditatively.

"Friend Ashley comes back early," she remarked glancing over the fence
into the road. "Methought he was not to return until nightfall."

"Why, that was the intention," answered Sally. "I heard him tell his
wife that 'twould be late ere he came back. I wonder why he did not
stay?" She went to the fence and leaned upon it, gazing with some
curiosity at Thomas Ashley's approaching form. "Peggy," she called
quickly, "something is wrong. Does thee not see?"

"He is ill," cried Peggy as the farmer stopped suddenly in his onward
way and leaned against a tree. "Let us go to him, Sally."

There was no gate near where they were standing so the girls climbed
to the top of the fence, then jumping lightly down on the other side,
they ran hastily to Farmer Ashley.

"Is thee ill, friend?" queried Peggy. "Thee seems sick."

"Sick? Ay! sick at heart, child." Thomas Ashley turned to them such a
woebegone countenance that the maidens uttered cries of dismay. His
face was lined and drawn, and into his kindly eyes had come an
expression of care. He seemed no longer a robust, middle-aged man, but
somehow old and feeble.

"Lean on me," cried Peggy slipping her strong young arm about him.
"Sally and I will help thee into the house."

"Not yet," he said. "Not yet. Let me collect myself before I face
Hannah."

"There is bad news of Fairfax," cried Sally. "What is it, friend?"

"The worst," he answered brokenly. "The lad is no more."

"What does thee mean, friend?" gasped Peggy. "Is he---- No; thee can't
mean that he is--dead?" Her voice sank to a whisper as she uttered the
word.

Thomas Ashley let his face fall into his hands with a groan.

"Peggy! Sally! Where are you?" Clearly, Nurse Johnson's voice cam