had in keeping still so that those ropes would not
fall off she would think it was pretty bad."

He laughed at the remembrance, and then became grave.

"I seem to be unfortunate in more respects than one," he said with
a sigh. "First, I misjudge you, Peggy. I can only explain that fact
by saying that never before had I met any one of like truthfulness
and so straightforward. Then, not knowing that your friends had the
same attributes, I am guilty of injustice toward Sally. Now she
misconstrues what was meant for a jest into a contemptible trick. Oh,
it was! I see it now. I' faith! the sooner that execution comes off
the better," he ended bitterly.

"Don't speak like that, Clifford," chided Peggy gently. "I'm going
to Sally and explain the matter to her. 'Twas all a miserable
misapprehension. She will laugh most heartily when she understands
it."

"I don't believe she will, Peggy," he answered gloomily. "She feels
tricked. She will never forgive me. You Quakers are queer people. I
did not dream that words spoken in jest would be taken so seriously."

"Well, my cousin, we have been taught that for every idle word we
shall give account. Perchance we do not speak with so much lightness
as the world's people."

"'Fore George, you do not," he ejaculated. "But, Peggy, to a soldier
the thought of death becomes familiar. So familiar in fact that
even when we are under its dark shadow if there comes a chance for
amusement of any sort we seize it. I would not for the world offend
her, Peggy. Will you try to make peace for me? Tell her," he smiled
involuntarily, "that she is the unreasonable one now; that if she will
not listen she lays herself open to the charge of being English which
would be a most dreadful downfall from the high estate of being an
American."

"I'll tell her everything, my cousin. I am sure that all will be
well as soon as she understands. And Harriet will come to thee
this afternoon. Thee must not let this, or aught else make thee
down-hearted, Clifford. I am hoping that something will come up
to avert this terrible fate from falling upon thee."

But the youth shook his head.

"I have no hope," he said. "'Tis only to please my sister that I
have consented that she should try to get your general to postpone
the execution until she can see Sir Guy. It seems but a useless
prolongation of anxiety. Now as to this other matter: you will go at
once to Sally, will you not, my cousin? Tell her that I am sor