Charles Stevens gazed upon the pretty face bathed in tears, beheld the agony which seemed to overwhelm her, and his soul went out toward the poor maid. He had little consolation to offer; but his fertile brain was not wholly barren of resources.
"Cora, don't give way to despair," he said. "What your father did was right and justifiable, though technically the law may take a different view. I have a relative living in Virginia, wealthy and influential. I shall write to him to procure a pardon for your father."
"I know him. The good man, Robert Stevens, who so kindly gave us a home and aided us to escape. He will do all he can for us."
"He is rich and powerful, and I believe he can ultimately procure a pardon for Mr. Waters."
Having consoled her, they rose and returned to the house.
That same evening, Charles Stevens met John Bly near the house of his mother.
"How have you been, John?" Charles asked. "This is the first time I have seen you since my return."
"I am as well as one can be who has been ridden twenty leagues," Bly answered.
"Ridden twenty leagues?" cried Charles Stevens in amazement. "Pray what do you mean?"
"I was turned into a horse last night and ridden twenty leagues during the darkness, and I am sore and almost exhausted now."