"Ah, Mr. Owen," he said shaking hands cordially with David Owen. "I am glad to see you. I have excellent reports of the work you are doing in Lancaster. Miss Peggy, 'tis long since I have had the pleasure of seeing you. And--Miss Harriet!" The smile died from his lips as he uttered her name. General Washington had an excellent memory for faces and events. Harriet's duplicity at Middlebrook was not easily forgotten; so his expression changed, and his face grew stern and cold. Harriet's color faded and she began to tremble. Nevertheless she sank in a deep courtesy before him. "It was my understanding," he continued, "that you were banished from our lines. If this be true how is it that we are favored with your company?" "Sir," she answered, gaining control over herself and speaking in a steady voice, "'tis true that I was banished to New York; but I think you will find that 'twas only from Philadelphia. I did not understand that it was from the entire line. I know, your Excellency, that I have no right to come to you to ask a favor. I have no claim by which I can urge even consideration. Still, I do ask mercy. I do entreat you to use clemency; not because I deserve it, but because I do not believe that you would be guilty of aught that savored of inhumanity or barbarity." Harriet was very beautiful as she made her plea, her unusual humility lending softness to the customary hauteur of her manner. A perplexed look crossed the general's countenance at her words. He bent toward her courteously. "Unravel the matter, I beg of you," he said more gently. "Do I understand that something hath gone amiss for which you are entreating lenity?" "It is not for myself, sir. My cousins here can bear witness that I came within your lines for the sole purpose of seeing my brother." She raised her head proudly, and met his glance with unwavering eyes. "He was at Lancaster. At Lancaster, where he hath been chosen as the most unfortunate victim of retaliation. It is for him I plead." "Your brother?" For the merest second a gleam of astonishment shone on his face. It faded, leaving his countenance as impassive as ever. He turned to the table, and picked up a folded document from among the many lying upon it. Hastily he scanned the page, then looked up. "'Tis as I thought," he said. "Brigadier-General Hazen hath reported concerning that matter, and the young man herein named is not your brother, Miss Harriet. On the contrary, 'tis one Captain Wilson Williams who hath been the unfortunate selected to pay the penalty." "And Captain Williams is my brother, sir. My brother, Clifford Owen, who because father did not wish him to go into the service enlisted under another name. My brother, and he hath been chosen to die shamefully because another hath committed a dastardly crime. Sir, in the name of that mother whose son you are, I entreat you to have mercy upon him who is an only son, an only brother----"