“Yes, yes, I think you may have power to do me a vital service.”
“Name it, lady. My word is pledged.”
“His word is pledged! Oh, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho!—pledged to a scare-crow!—pledged to a kelpie!—pledged to a witch on a broomstick! Oh, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho! Oh-h!” shouted the coarse Admiral.
The eye of Ross flashed for an instant, but sheathed its fire as he turned to Catherine, and, taking her hand respectfully, drew her aside from the proximity of the brutal Cockburn, who, in addition to his other graces, was now doubly inflamed by drink and triumph.
“A tryste! a tryste with the Queen of the Kelpies! Oh, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho!” roared the Admiral, holding his sides, and bending forward to shout his insulting laughter, and then stalking off.
“Explain, lady. I shall be proud to serve you. Pray have confidence in me, madam, and believe in the sincerity of my words,” said General Ross, still holding her hand, while she passed her other one slowly to and fro across her forehead, as was her habit when embarrassed, trying to clear her mind and arrange her thoughts.
But as soon as she was relieved from the presence of the coarse and insolent Cockburn, she recovered breath and self-possession, and spoke clearly and to the point.
“I thank you, sir,—I deeply thank you. I will tell you. I heard, in my distant mountain home, that my husband, Major Clifton, of the —— Regiment of Volunteers, had been dangerously wounded in the action at St. Leonard’s. I did not hear that he had also been taken prisoner. Believing him to be still in the American camp, and fearing that he needed more constant attention than he could get, and feeling very anxious to hear directly from him, I sent his favorite servant to find him, directing the man to remain with him, and to write me of his state. He, this servant, was a poor, rustic negro, sir, totally ignorant of the usages of war. When he reached the American camp, he discovered that his master was a prisoner on board the British fleet. He procured a boat and boarded the Albion. He was taken as a spy, of course, and, to end the miserable story, awaits only the orders of Admiral Cockburn to be executed. I heard that yesterday evening, and I instantly set off, and between that hour and this have ridden more than seventy miles, almost without stopping for food or rest, and entered the city to-night alone, when all were flying from it, to beg this man’s life from the Admiral. Now, you know, you know, how vital is my request, my prayer.”
“You could not have done more for your father, lady!” replied General Ross, with a gentle, earnest wonder on his fine countenance. “You could not have done more for your father than you have done for this slave.”
“Do not wonder, sir. He would have laid down his life for us. But, oh, sir! time presses—death threatens!”