The surprise of Major Gordon, the horror of Uncle Lawrence, and the interest of both, produced immediately a torrent of questions, which led the conversation to the point that the visitor desired.
We will not attempt to paint the excitement of the hearers, when Captain Powell informed them that Kate was in the hands of Arrison. The emotion of Uncle Lawrence was almost as great as that of Major Gordon. The former, in fact, was more thoroughly acquainted with the refugee’s character, and had consequently a keener sense, if possible, of Kate’s peril. It was fortunate it was so: fortunate that the Major could scarcely believe in depravity so great as Arrison’s; for otherwise he must have gone mad with suspense.
As it was, he could not keep still for an instant. He had started to his feet again, on the first intimation of Kate’s danger; and had heard the conclusion of the narrative, striding up and down the narrow apartment, like a chafed lion in a cage.
“Oh! if I had been there, instead of here,” he cried, clenching his hands. “Just heaven! such villainy.”
“Calm yourself, my dear Major,” answered Captain Powell. “You will be overheard.” For this, as well as the former conversation between the prisoners, had been conducted in low tones, to prevent the other occupants of the building from hearing, whereas the Major, under the excitement of his feelings, had uttered these exclamations aloud.
“Calm yourself,” continued Captain Powell. “It is to set you free, remember, that I am here.”
The words were scarcely uttered before Major Gordon stopped in his walk, and seizing the speaker’s hand, wrung it with energetic gratitude. His heart, however, was too full to allow him utterance.
“I need not say,” resumed Captain Powell, “that there is not a minute to be lost.”
But suddenly a shade of deep concern extinguished the light in Major Gordon’s countenance. For the instant he had forgotten his fellow prisoner. But it had been only for an instant. Much as he desired freedom, in order to rescue Kate, or die in the attempt, he could not abandon Uncle Lawrence. He paused, and fixed his eyes on the old man, who stood silent and motionless, though every feature of his face was working with intense emotion; emotion not on his own account; not because the Major was to be freed, and himself remain a prisoner, but because his darling was in the hands of such a ruffian as Arrison.
“I cannot go,” said Major Gordon, turning frankly to Captain Powell, “at least alone. My friend must accompany me. He has a family, and his life is precious to them; let him be released in my stead.”