Philadelphia (Pa.) -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Juvenile fiction
Peggy's heart beat so wildly at this that she feared it could be
heard. She had risen at the sheriff's entrance, and stood with pale
face waiting the discovery that she was afraid was imminent. She said
nothing as the sheriff asked his question. The others had spoken
quickly disclaiming any knowledge of such person, and she hoped the
fact that she had made no reply would escape notice. To her relief
Sally spoke up:
"Will thee let us see him if thee finds him, Friend Will? Especially
if he be good looking."
"Oh, yes, Friend Will," broke in Betty. "Do let us have a look at him
if thee catches him."
"Now, now," protested the officer, "I'm not going to grant any
indulgences to further an Englishman's enjoyment. I know your sex,
Miss Sally. If the fellow is good looking I'll have all of you girls
on my back to let him off. And the temper of the people won't permit
such things at present. Well, there is nothing to be gained here. We
will take the up-stairs now."
"I think I shall accompany you," spoke Mr. Owen. "I like not to think
of any prowlers about. I wonder where he escaped from, and if there is
but one?"
"Suppose we go too," said Robert Dale, addressing Fairfax. "We might
be of assistance to the sheriff."
The three left the room, and the women and the girls drew close
together while overhead, in every room, and without in the barn and
other buildings the search was prosecuted. Nurse Johnson shivered as
the sounds of the hunt came to them.
"A man hunt is always such a dreadful thing," she remarked. "And
whether it be for a slave or an enemy, I find my sympathy going with
the hunted. I hope they won't find this poor fellow. Yet I have no
love for the English."
"Thee is like the rest of us," replied Mistress Owen. "A good hater of
the enemy in the aggregate, but a commiserator of one who happens to
be in a plight. Peggy, how restless thee is!"
"I am, mother," answered Peggy rising, and going to the window. "This
hath upset me."
"It is in truth a most unpleasant ending to an otherwise pleasant
day," commented her mother.
Peggy made no further remark, but wandered restlessly about, finally
going into the dining-room. She was filled with apprehension lest at
any moment Clifford's hiding-place should be discovered. He must not
stay, she reflected. It was no longer safe to conceal him anywhere on
the premises. But where could he go? At this point in her musings she
felt an arm slip about her waist, and turned to find Sally Evans
beside her.
"And who is it, Peggy?" whispered Sally. "I know that 'tis some one
thee knows, else thee would not have helped him."
"Oh, Sally! how did thee know that 'twas I who helped any one?" asked
Peggy alarmed. "Did I show it so plainly? Does thee think the sheriff
could tell that I knew aught?"
"Nay," Sally whispered back. "I knew because I know thee so well. Thee
remembers I thought I heard thee talking with some one in the kitchen.
Who is it?"
"Clifford," whispered Peggy.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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