“We are all ears, and will gladly listen to all you have to say,” answered Craft, while Hathaway’s eyes and manner betokened the curiosity he could not conceal.
“Are you both willing to give your oaths that what I tell you to-night will never, under any circumstances, be divulged by either of you to a living soul, or ever put in writing, or in any manner made possible to be known?”
Both of the men gave him this promise.
Cobb arose and took a small Bible from the mantel over the grate, and advancing to the table, held it in his right hand, requesting each of the others to place his hand upon it. They arose from their chairs and placed their hands upon the sacred volume.
“Repeat after me,” said Cobb: “I swear by all that I hold sacred, by my hope of salvation in the after life, and by my belief in a just and good God, that I will not divulge or disclose, by tone of voice, or writing, or other symbol, that which maybe communicated to me this night; so help me God.”
His words were slowly and solemnly spoken, and the repetition of them by the others was in a manner indicative of the sincerity and truth they both felt in the obligation taken.
“Good!” and Cobb laid the book upon the table.
“I might now go on and tell you of that for which I asked you to meet me here to-night, but there would be no use in communicating to you these secrets unless you agree to assist me. It is your help that I desire.”
“Cobb,” and Craft’s manner indicated that he felt hurt by his friend’s hesitation, “I have known you for quite a long time. I have admired and respected you, and if I can be of any assistance to you in any way, you have but to ask me.”
“Then, if I tell you that that which I ask of you can be performed without any neglect of the duties you owe to your God, your country, or yourself—that it will harm no one, nor will anyone have cause to complain of your action—will you swear it?”