“I know the young man you speak of,” replied Fredrich Weimher, in reply to the other’s story. “I met him several times in New York; he is very fine looking, though his principles are none of the best; still I always felt that there was some good about him. I knew of his admiration for Miss Dupont, and now you say he is going to force her into a marriage with him.”
“Yes, I heard him swear it!” returned the man, with a look of pain upon his rough but fine-looking face.
“But they have left the place, I hear,” said Fredrich.
“They started to leave the place last night,” replied Edgerton, in a whisper, “but were intercepted about five miles from here, their driver knocked senseless from his seat, which was immediately occupied by another man, and the unfortunate ladies driven off to a place of security.”
“How do you know all this?”
“Partly from the coachman himself, whom I discovered lying half dead upon the ground, where he had fallen, and partly from my own knowledge of what is transpiring among these regions.”
“Where is the man now?” asked Fredrich.
“He is safe, and under good care; and no one knows anything about the affair except those who have the charge of him and myself. Of course,” he added, “I mean aside from those who instigated the deed.”
“Who do you think are the instigators? Do you think the Moultons would dare commit such an act, and if so, where have they carried their captives?”
“I know that, personally, Squire Moulton and his nephew had nothing to do with the abduction, but that it was some one or two of the smugglers who did it for them, and for their money. I also know where they are at the present moment.”