tart for New Jersey was made.
Early as it was, however, Sally was down to see them off. She hovered
around Peggy, finally saying, with a fine air of carelessness:

"I had a short letter from thy Cousin Clifford, Peggy. If he should
speak of the matter, I dare say he will not, thee may say that 'tis
all right. That I have no hard feelings toward him."

Peggy caught her suddenly, and held her fast.

"Is that all I am to say, Sally? Is there naught else? Couldn't thee
give me one little kind word for him? He is to die, Sally."

Sally struggled to free herself, then unexpectedly hid her face on
Peggy's shoulder, and burst into tears.

"Tell him," she sobbed, then looked up at Peggy wrathfully: "If thee
tells him anything until the very last, Peggy Owen, I will never
forgive thee. Never!"

"I understand, Sally," encouraged Peggy. "Tell me."

"Thee may tell him, at the very last, at the very last, Peggy."

"Yes, Sally."

"Thee may tell him that I think him the finest gentleman I ever knew.
There! Of course, being thy kinsman, and because we are such friends,
for thy sake, thee knows----"

"Yes, I know." Peggy kissed Sally gently, then held her close. "I have
not told Harriet a word," she whispered. "Oh, Sally! Sally!"

They joined Clifford and his guards on the Bristol road. Peggy could
not but reflect with what joyousness she and Sally had passed over
this very road a few short months before. How much had happened since
that time! Fairfax foully murdered, Clifford, her cousin, on his way
to pay the penalty of the deed. Truly strange things were wrought in
the warp and woof of time. So musing, for little conversation was
held, the long hours of the day glided into the shadows of evening,
and found them at Trenton where they were to bide for the night. Peggy
suggested seeing Governor Livingston, but Harriet demurred at once.

"He would do naught for us, Peggy," she declared. "Have you forgot
that 'twas I who tried to effect his captivation at Middlebrook? 'Tis
that very thing that makes me fearful of meeting General Washington.
Were not my brother's life at stake I would not chance it."

The roads were in good condition, the business in hand most urgent,
and so they journeyed from early morning until nightfall of each day
with but short stops to refresh man and beast. Through Princeton, and
along the banks of the Millstone to Kingston they rode. Here the road
left the valley and began to ascend the heights, then