“Those girths should be attended to before bringing the horses round,” he answered. “’Tis done to get money from you girls. He never sees us but that he comes forward under some pretense of doing a service. I like not his actions. How doth it come that he is attending the horses? He is not your father’s man.” “I know not,” answered Peggy. “Doth it really matter? Fie, fie, John! thee is cross. I never saw thee so before.” “Your pardon,” said the lad contritely. “I meant not to be so, but men require sharp treatment, and perchance I have brought my parade manner with me.” The girls laughed, but a constraint seemed to be over all three. Harriet was unusually silent, and Peggy, though conscious of no wrong-doing, was ill at ease. The feeling was intensified as, when they had gone some distance, young Drayton wheeled his horse suddenly. “Let us go back,” he said abruptly. “Why?” exclaimed both girls simultaneously, but even as they spoke they saw the reason. A few rods in front of them, suspended from the limb of a tree, hung the limp body of a man. “Is it a spy?” whispered Peggy shudderingly. “Yes, Mistress Peggy. I knew not that the execution would take place on this road, else I would have chosen another for the ride. ’Tis not a pleasing sight.” “Is thee ill, Harriet?” cried Peggy, all at once happening to glance at her cousin who had no color in her face. “Ill? No,” answered Harriet with an attempt at carelessness. “I am chilled; that is all. Then, too, as the ensign says, yon sight is not a pretty one. Methinks such service must be extremely hazardous.” “It is, mistress,” said Drayton sternly. “So perilous is it that the man, woman, or girl even who enters upon it does so at the risk of life. No mercy is shown a spy. Nor should there be.” “And yet,” she said growing paler still, “spies are used by your own general, sir. It is a parlous mission, but he who enters upon it serves his country as truly as though”—she laughed, flung up her head and looked him straight in the face—“as though he were an ensign,” she finished mockingly. “She has thee, John,” cried Peggy gaily. “But a truce to such talk. ’Tis gruesome, is it not? Let us converse upon more pleasing subjects.” “Methinks,” said Drayton briefly, “’twould be as well to return, Mistress Peggy. The ride hath been spoiled for the day.” But a shadow seemed over them, and neither girl recovered her accustomed spirits until some hours later when they went into dinner.