self-control gone.
David Owen brought his horse to a sudden stop as he came opposite
her, stooped, and swung her like a child up in front of him. She clung
to him crying:

"They have taken him, father! They have taken him!"

"Steady, lass! Please God, we'll be in time."

They were beside Harriet now. Harriet who, with pale, set features,
never turned. Her eyes were fixed on John Drayton's flying figure as
though all her hope lay with him. Faster and faster he rode. The white
flag streamed above him. His horse was running like the wind.

The bend in the road was turned at last. Peggy hid her face against
her father's shoulder afraid to look. But---- Clifford? She must know.
She sat up, but at first the crowd was all that she could see. A black
mass of swaying people whose heads were turned in their direction to
see what the commotion portended. The mass parted as Drayton dashed
toward it, leaving a clear path to the cart. And oh, thank heaven!
Clifford sat there safe, safe. The provost-marshal stood with his hand
on the rope, arrested in the very act of performing his awful duty by
John Drayton's hoarse shout:

"Forbear! Forbear in the name of Congress! A reprieve!"

CHAPTER XXX

AND THEN THE END

"Here the free spirit of mankind, at length,
Throws its last fetters off; and who shall place
A limit to the giant's unchained strength,
Or curb his swiftness in the forest race."

--_Bryant._

A mighty shout went up from the people as they heard the words. It was
followed by another, and still another until the Jersey hills echoed
with the sound. Men flung their hats in the air and were not ashamed
that tears, all unchecked, lay on their cheeks. The extreme youth, the
beauty of the unfortunate young man had gone straight to their hearts.
He was one of the enemy, but his manly bearing in the face of an
ignominious death commanded respect and admiration, and had produced
the stern joy that is felt by warriors toward a foeman worthy of their
steel.

In compliment to the occasion, the band struck up a lively English
air, and in the general enthusiasm which followed there was a rush
for the cart. Clifford was lifted bodily to their shoulders and borne,
amid boisterous acclamations, to his relatives.

A true Briton has an abhorrence of any display of emotion; so now,
although more moved than he had been of the menace of death, the youth
struggled to retain his composure. His featu