e now," she cried in
dismay.

"I think naught will be said anent the subject," he replied. "But in
case there might be 'twould be well to have me with thee. For this and
other reasons I shall go."

"I am so glad, Cousin David," she cried. And Peggy too felt greatly
relieved when she was told.

So it came about that when the dragoons set forth with their prisoner
two days later they were accompanied by Major Gordon, Mr. Owen, and
the two girls, Peggy and Harriet. Clifford was closely guarded, but
there was no undue severity shown. He was permitted to converse with
his cousins and his sister whenever he wished. Frequently he rode long
stretches of the road with them, the troopers in front and behind.

And everywhere, at the inns, and the towns through which they passed,
the people flocked to see this victim of retaliation. And the extreme
youth and manly bearing of the unfortunate young man won him much
compassion. The people had been greatly stirred by the death of
Fairfax Johnson. He too was young, and his death had been such a
lawless proceeding that it had roused the whole country to the
necessity of reprisal lest other Americans be subjected to a like
fate. But there was a dignity in the warm passions of these people
that the instant it was in their power to punish they felt a
disposition to forgive. And so there was pity and compassion freely
expressed for the young captain and his untoward fate.

It was a sorrowful journey. The troopers rode hard and fast, so that
the afternoon of the third day after leaving Lancaster brought them to
the Middle Ferry. The sun was just sinking behind the hills of the
Schuylkill as they crossed the ferry, and rode down High Street into
Philadelphia. Mr. Owen and the two maidens left the party at Fifth
Street, bound for the Owens' residence in Chestnut Street. The
troopers continued down High Street to Third; for they were to stop at
the Bunch of Grapes Tavern.

CHAPTER XXIII

A LITTLE HUMOR DESPITE A GRIM SITUATION

"Alas! regardless of their doom,
The little victims play!
No sense have they of ills to come,
No care beyond to-day."

--_Gray._

The great clock of the State House was striking ten, the next morning,
as Peggy emerged from the west entrance of the dwelling, and, basket
in hand, went down the steps of the terrace into the gardens.

It was a lovely day. The sky was blue with June's own cerulean hue,
and across its depths f