CHAPTER XLII.
THE RELEASE
Oh! give me liberty. —Dryden.
Thus doth the ever-changing course of things
Run a perpetual circle. —Daniels.
‘Tis not the many oaths, that make the truth;
But the plain single vow, that is vow’d true. —Shakespeare.
Captain Powell was one of those who had been a listener at Aylesford’s bedside, during the confession of the latter. Arriving in New York, after the loss of his ship, without employment, or the chance of any, he had volunteered on the expedition against the Neck, and hence his presence. He it was, also, who had been commissioned by the chaplain to quiet Aylesford, by carrying a message to the American camp.
Accordingly, Captain Powell had left the room, but with other ulterior designs. He had already ascertained that Major Gordon had been made prisoner, and having heard his name mentioned by Aylesford more than once, a suspicion of the truth had flashed upon him. Indeed, often since his rescue from the wreck, had he speculated on an attachment springing up between our hero and Kate; for though he had seen little of the officer, he had observed enough, during those hours of terrible peril, to be convinced that he and Miss Aylesford were eminently fitted for each other. He resolved, accordingly, to see Major Gordon, in this crisis, satisfied, that if it was as he suspected, the best course would be to secretly liberate the prisoner.
“This is my friend,” said our hero, turning to Uncle Lawrence, on observing that Captain Powell seemed surprised at not finding him alone. “He has, this day, saved my life, and whatever debt you may think you owe to me, I transfer to him.”
The captain looked at Uncle Lawrence, at these words, with increased interest. But he was a judge of character, and the simple dignity with which the veteran rose and returned the salutation of the visitor, at once convinced the latter that the old man was no common person. The delicate subject, however, on which he had come to see Major Gordon, made him hesitate. Our hero, discovering this from his manner, said,
“You can speak, Captain, before Mr. Herman, as frankly as if he was myself.”
Still, Captain Powell knew not how to open his mission, and paused in embarrassment. At last he bethought him to mention the fact, that “a young gentleman, named Aylesford, had come into camp desperately wounded, and was now at the point of death.”