Peggy Owen and Liberty Part 18

"How brightly the moon s.h.i.+nes," was her thought, and completely rea.s.sured she was about to draw the curtains when again there came the mysterious sound that had awakened her.

It was a crackling, snapping sound such as seasoned wood makes when the flame catches it in the open air. Very much alarmed Peggy slipped from the bed and ran to one of the windows. Softly she raised the sash, then cautiously swung back one of the shutters. She gave a low cry at the sight that met her gaze, and leaned far out of the window.

The barn was a ma.s.s of flames, and there were dark forms flitting about among the budding trees. The raiders! For a moment she stood stricken with terror. Then the necessity for action roused her.

Fairfax! Thomas Ashley! They must not be caught asleep. What would be their portion should these men find them? Full of excitement, her heart beating hard and fast, she sped into the adjoining room where Nurse Johnson slept.

"Awake!" she cried shaking her violently, her whisper rendered sharp and penetrating by fear. "The raiders are here. Thy son, Friend Nurse!

There is danger. Oh, wake! wake!"

"What is it, Peggy?" Nurse Johnson was roused at last. "Are you ill?"

"The Tories," gasped the maiden. "They are here. The barn is burning."

In an instant Nurse Johnson was out of the bed, and had started for the door when the calm voice of her son spoke from the entrance:

"I hear. You women get in the middle room, and don't go near a window.

Uncle Tom is getting the muskets ready for the a.s.sault."

Peggy ran back to close the shutter of the window she had opened, but could not forego a glance downward as she did so. The men, satisfied that nothing would be left of the barn, were now advancing stealthily toward the house, each bearing a lighted pine-knot. The girl's heart beat pitifully as she divined their intention, which was obviously to set fire to the dwelling. She closed the shutter tightly, and then awakened Sally.

"Can't we do something?" whispered Sally, after the women and the two girls had waited in breathless suspense for a few moments. "This waiting in the dark is terrifying. I shall scream if I can't do something."

Before a reply could be made there came a snort of terror from the lean-to, and a shout of triumph broke from the raiders as the snorting discovered the whereabouts of the horses. A ripping, tearing sound betokening that the boards were being torn from the improvised stable to get at the animals followed. A roar of rage burst from Farmer Ashley.

"At 'em, nevvy," he cried. "They're after the horses. He who shoots first has the advantage of the enemy."

The young captain's reply was a shot from his musket. A howl of anger rose from the attackers as the report of Thomas Ashley's gun followed quickly. The two men then ran to other windows and began firing, endeavoring by quick s.h.i.+fting of position to give the impression that a large force was in the house. There were six muskets altogether, and one was placed by each window.

"This is work for us," said Nurse Johnson calmly, as the women and girls in answer to Sally's plea came down-stairs. "We can load while you two do the shooting. Peggy, do you stay with me while Mary and Sally take that side."

There ensued several minutes of brisk work from without as well as within, and bullets came spitefully through windows and doors.

Presently Mary Ashley spoke shrilly:

"Father, where is the cartridge paper? There are no more cartridges made up."

"I don't know, mother," shouted Mr. Ashley successfully dodging a bullet that came through a shutter. "Ask nevvy."

But Fairfax turned a look of consternation on his aunt.

"If there are no more cartridges in the pouch we are done for," he said. "There's plenty of powder and ball, but I don't know where to lay hand to wadding."

"Any sort of paper will do, Mary," interposed Nurse Johnson. "Get a book."

Paper was a scarce commodity in those times, and few houses, especially country houses, kept it in quant.i.ty. Books were rarer still, so now Mrs. Ashley spoke with the calmness of despair:

"There isn't a book on the place. I let----"

"Wait a minute," cried Peggy. "I have one." She ran up the stairs as she finished speaking and soon returned, a book in her hand.

"Oh, Peggy," wailed Sally, "'tis thy diary. And how will the girls ever know what hath befallen us without it?"

"They are apt to know naught if we do not use it, Sally," said Peggy with some excitement, proceeding to tear the leaves into squares.

Presently she paused, powder-horn in hand. "How much powder do I put in, Friend Nurse?" she asked.

While Nurse Johnson was showing the proper amount the enemy's fire slackened suddenly. Farmer Ashley and Fairfax exchanged apprehensive glances. Were they weary, or was their stock of cartridges getting low? Then the fire ceased altogether, and as the smoke lifted Fairfax stole a look through the opening in a shutter. He turned a troubled face toward them after a moment's survey.

"There's nothing to be seen," he said. "Surely they have not gone away?"

At this juncture a call came from outside:

"Tom Ashley!"

"Well? What's wanted?" cried the farmer.

"We want that nephew of yours, and we're going to have him."

"Come and get him, then," growled Thomas Ashley.

"We're going to, Tom. We've burned your barn, and taken your horses.

Now unless you let us have that captain we'll burn the house right over your head. Will you surrender Captain Johnson?"

"No," came from the farmer in a roar. "What manner of man do you think I am that I'd let a pack of Tory scoundrels have my nephew?"

"The woods won't be pleasant camping for your women-folks at this time of the year, Tom," came in threatening accents.

"No," shouted the farmer. "You can't have him."

"Uncle, I'd better go out to them," said Fairfax. "If they will promise to let the rest of you alone, and not burn the house, I'll----"

"You'll do nothing of the sort, nevvy," spoke Tom Ashley gruffly. "If they spare the house now 'twill be only that they may burn it later.

You can't depend upon the word of a Tory. We will stay here as long as we can, then make a dash for the woods. Thanks to Peggy we have plenty of cartridges now."

"Something is burning," cried Sally suddenly, sniffing the air.

A peculiar odor came through the loopholes of the windows, and the wind whirled a puff of smoke into the room. The faces of the girls blanched, and they looked at each other fearfully. The entire party seemed benumbed for the moment, then Fairfax sprang to the door of the lean-to.

"I'm going out to them," he announced determinedly. "You shan't burn here like rats in a trap."

"Don't go, son," screamed his mother.

And, "Don't go, Friend Fairfax," came from the girls. "'Tis death out there."

"And death to all within if I stay," he answered, opening the door resolutely. A burst of flame from the lean-to forced him to recoil, and before he could recover himself his uncle had closed the door quickly.

"You young idiot," he growled, "stay where you are. 'Twould be a useless sacrifice. You'll do more good by staying here, and helping to cover the retreat of the women should we have to take to the woods."

Fairfax made no answer, but stood in a dejected att.i.tude, his head sunk upon his breast. The stillness without was ominous. Presently jets of flame crept across the threshold of the door leading to the lean-to. The farmer uttered an exclamation almost of despair as he reached for the water bucket.

"We are all right as long as the water holds out," he groaned, das.h.i.+ng the bucket's contents on the blaze. "G.o.d help us when 'tis gone."