d, and kissed her.

"Thank you, little cousin," he said. "All is well with me."

With firm step he passed on to go to his ignoble death. As he took his
place in the cart the drums began to beat the dead march, and the
procession moved slowly away. Peggy heard nothing. Her eyes were
fixed on the scarlet coat of her cousin. He did not turn. He did not
look to right, nor to left. Like a brave, gallant gentleman he was
going to his doom. As long as she could see him her eyes followed him.
Her breath came gaspingly as the procession disappeared around a bend
in the road. Her senses reeled. The ground was slipping, slipping----

An exclamation, sharp, penetrating, brought her to herself. The guard
near her had paused in his round, and was gazing at a cloud of dust
which had suddenly appeared on the Morristown road. If it concealed
horsemen they were coming at a furious pace. Curious knots of people
began to cluster in groups to watch its approach. Through Peggy's
dulled apprehension a thrill of interest ran. As the quick beat of
galloping horses sounded on the morning air she started. Hope
electrified her being. Could it be that some one was coming with help
for Clifford? She ran to the road and strained her eyes toward that
approaching cloud of dust. And then, from out of its enveloping
particles three horses emerged. The foremost rider was standing in his
stirrups, and high above his head he waved a flag frantically. A
murmur of excitement stirred the watchers as the sunlight caught the
pure folds of the banner. It was a white flag. A white flag: the flag
of life, of salvation. Peggy shrieked at sight of it. A shriek that
mingled joy with an agony of apprehension lest he be too late. Lest he
be too late! She tore the kerchief from her neck and waved it wildly.
She called to him entreatingly to hurry, hurry, and knew not that her
cries could not be heard. She wrung her hands at her helplessness. On
came the horseman. Nearer and nearer he drew. The horse's flanks were
steaming. His eyes were strained and blood-shot. Blood flecked the
foam flew from his nostrils, but still his rider lashed him to greater
speed. He called to her as he passed: "Which way, Peggy? Which way?"
She raised her hand and pointed toward the bend in the road, and he
thundered on. She had known it was Drayton before he called. She knew
too that her father and Harriet rode behind. Her father come at last!
Peggy was sobbing pitifully now, every vestige of