pon John Drayton as
though he expected triumph at the result. But tears were running down
Drayton's face, and Clifford's own countenance softened as he saw it.
Once before Peggy had heard strong men weep. Then it had been over the
defection of a brilliant soldier; now they wept that a fresh young
life must be given in reprisal. Once, twice, General Hazen had tried
to speak. At last he laid his hand upon Clifford's shoulder, and
turning to the officer of the dragoons, said huskily:

"This gentleman, sir, is your prisoner."

But at that Harriet, who had stood as though stunned, gave a great
cry, and ran to Clifford:

"My brother! My brother! My brother!"

CHAPTER XXII

WHAT CAN BE DONE?

"Here we have war for war, blood for blood,
Controlment for controlment."

--_King John._

Exclamations of pity and compassion came from the men as Harriet
threw her arms about her brother. On General Hazen's countenance
consternation showed as well as commiseration. The scene was
sufficiently trying as it was. The feminine note added to the
complexity of the situation.

Over Clifford Owen's face there swept a swift, indescribable change.
He drew his sister to him and held her close, bending his head to hers
with a gesture that was full of yearning. There was not a dry eye in
the room. Both Americans and English felt it no shame to their manhood
that tears streamed unrestrainedly down their cheeks.

The brother and sister were so young. The youth, noble and handsome,
was striving to bear the tragic fate trust upon him with fortitude
yet was torn by his love for his sister. The maiden, so surpassingly
lovely that even the violence of her grief could not mar her beauty,
was filled with anguish over the impending doom of her brother. That
the boy had all he could do to maintain his composure was manifest to
every one. For a time it seemed that affection would submerge all
other emotions; then came a quick stiffening of his body as though he
were preparing himself to resist any further appeal to his tenderness.
When he spoke it was clearly and composedly:

"My sister, what do you here? This is no place for you."

"I had to come," she cried passionately. "Think you I could stay away
when I knew not what would be done to you?"

"'Tis known now, Harriet. The lot hath been taken. I must accept my
fate. Help me to do it bravely, my sister. You are a soldier's
daughter, a soldier's sister. Let us sho