h, I know. I
don't mean that. I mean just and honorable, chivalrous and gallant,
performing heroic deeds, and--and all the rest of it," he finished
boyishly.

"And thee is all that, Clifford," said Peggy gently.

"No," he said with unwonted humility. "I would like to be, but I am,
in truth, a pretty stiff, stubborn, unreasonable sort of fellow. You
have had cause to know that, Peggy. And so hath Sally. If life were,
by any chance, given me I should try to be all that she thinks me;
but I am to die. To die----" He stopped suddenly, and his eyes began
to glow. "'Fore George!" he cried, "if I cannot live I can die as she
would have the 'finest gentleman' to die! What if it is on the
scaffold, and not the battle-field? Though it be not a glorious death,
it can be glorified! How could she know that that was just what I
would need to put me on my mettle? How could she know?"

"Then it hath helped thee, Clifford?" spoke Peggy, marveling at the
transformation in him.

"Helped me? It hath put new life into me. It hath given me courage.
Why, do you know the shame of the thing had almost prostrated me? An
Owen on the gallows, Peggy. I would not have minded so much if the
execution had taken place right after we left Lancaster, but to have
it hanging over me day after day for so long. Peggy, it hath eaten
into my heart."

"Oh, Clifford!" she cried pityingly. "I did not dream thee felt it
so!"

"I did not want you to know, little cousin. I would not tell you now,
but that you have brought me the cheer that I need. How good you have
always been to me, Peggy. I wonder if the world holds anything sweeter
than a Quaker maid! That one should so highly esteem me----" He smiled
at her with sudden radiance. "I shall have pleasant thoughts to go
with me now, Peggy. You will tell her?"

"Yes," she answered, and added chokingly: "I wish father were here."

"And so do I. I hoped that he would be with me at the end; I believe
that he would be here if he could."

"Thee shall not be alone, Clifford. I am going to be with thee." Peggy
spoke bravely enough, but her eyes grew dark at the very thought, and
she began to tremble.

"Not for the world, Peggy!" he cried, horrified. "I would like to have
Cousin David with me, but not you. Oh, not you! I can suffer firmly
what 'twould kill you to see."

"But to be alone, Clifford?"

"It can't be helped, Peggy. I won't have you there. Promise me that
you won't go."

"I will do as thee wishe