But underneath his assumed cheerfulness Peggy detected anxiety. He did not linger talking, but bustled about helping the women into the wagons. The rain was falling heavily now, and there was need for haste. A small party of men was detached from the main body to go on into the village to bury the dead of both sides. The British had left their fallen ones to be cared for by the Americans, and generously the duty was performed. At length all was in readiness, and the journey toward shelter was resumed. "And thou, friend? How did thee escape?" questioned Peggy as Thomas Ashley rode up beside the wagon in which the family sat. "I was one of the scouting party that nevvy sent down the river road to intercept the enemy," he answered. "We were to take their fire while falling back on the blockhouse, but we did not see any signs of them. Alarmed at this, we scoured the woods to find where they were, when suddenly we were set upon by a party of refugees. A lively skirmish ensued, but the enemy was in superior force, and soon had the victory. In the disorder and confusion following the surrender a few of us made our escape. Meantime we heard the cannonading and knew that the blockhouse was attacked, but by the time we could make our way back to the village, the fort had fallen, and the British were burning the town. "There was no sign of the women and children, but as the foe put off down the river with the prisoners, a friend crawled out of the bushes to tell me that the women had fled to the forest. It seemed best under the circumstances to go for aid for them, so we scattered to get it. Of course I am glad to be with you," he ended huskily, "but 'tis pity that it could not be either Charley or nevvy." "They are young, friend, and perhaps can stand imprisonment better than thee could," consoled Peggy. "And, as thee hath said, they can be exchanged, so after a short time all of us will be together again." "Yes, father," spoke his wife. "Peggy is right. It hath all happened for the best, I dare say. They might have been killed, and you also. So we won't grieve, but try to bear the lads' captivity as best we may. I do wish though that we could go home." "We are going to, Mary; just as soon as I can find some one to take us there. There will be many to care for who have no place to go, and 'tis the right thing to make the charge as light as possible." "And we shall be as safe there as anywhere," she said eagerly. "I shall be glad to get home." Peggy's glance met Sally's, and her own wistfulness was reflected in Sally's eyes. They too would like to be home out of this turbulence of warfare, but knowing that these friends would take them were it possible they gave no voice to their longings.