id you not know that it was a misdemeanor to succor one of the
enemy?"

"Yes, friend; I knew it."

"You knew that 'twas a misdemeanor, and yet unbeknown to your father
you still committed it?" he asked, as though amazed at such duplicity.
"Did you not know that such an act might bring suspicion upon him? Did
you not know that even though he had given good service to the cause,
even that would not avail him if he were suspected of abetting a
prisoner's escape? Whom can we trust since General Arnold failed us?"

Peggy was too full of emotion to be able to do more than nod
acquiescence.

"Then if you knew these things, why did you do this?" he demanded, his
brow darkening.

"He was my cousin, Clifford Owen," she told him brokenly. "I could not
refuse him shelter in such a storm."

"Clifford Owen? A son of that Colonel Owen who as a prisoner on parole
stayed at your house?"

"Yes," answered Peggy.

"A brother to that Mistress Harriet Owen who played the spy with our
army at Middlebrook, and who while at your house tried to communicate
with the enemy at New York and was banished for so doing?"

"Yes," answered the girl again.

"And to favor one of these cousins you would do that which might cause
doubt to be cast upon your father's patriotism, and bring this friend
here under displeasure of this tribunal? This friend who hath served
us so nobly as nurse."

"Thee must not do anything to Sally," cried Peggy, roused by this
speech. "I alone am to blame for everything. None knew that I hid my
cousin, and Sally helped only because she saw how greatly I was
distressed lest Clifford should be taken. She did not know him, and
only helped me out of friendship. Ye must do naught to her. There is
no one to blame but me."

"And do you justify yourself for involving a loyal friend in
difficulty by the mere fact that the prisoner was your cousin?" he
asked, and the cold incisiveness of his tone made the girl shiver.
"You have said that he was your cousin, Margaret Owen, as though that
were excuse for disloyalty. Ye have both attended Master Benezet's
school; while there did ye not read of one Junius Brutus, who
sentenced his own sons to death when he found them implicated in a
conspiracy against the country?"

"Yes, we read of it," interposed Sally so shrilly that the grave men
who composed the semicircle were startled into keen attention. "We
read of it, Friend Moore; but does thee think their mother would have
done it