“I suppose you have heard, Mr. Bagby, of my father’s capture,” she said, without even the preliminary of a greeting.
“Yes, miss,” said Bagby, awkwardly and shamefacedly; “’t is news that did n’t stop travelling, and ’t was all over Trenton before he’d been an hour in town. One way or another, he and I have n’t got on well, but I did n’t wish him or you any such bad luck, and I’m real sorry it ’s come about.”
“I wished to see you to ask—to beg,” went on the girl, “that you would persuade the Governor to set him free.”
“But he’d not have the right to do that,” replied Joe. “He only can pardon the squire after the trial. And right now I want to say that if you have n’t settled on any lawyer, I will take the case and do my best for your dad, and let you take your own time as to paying me.”
“Oh, Mr. Bagby,” pleaded Janice, “Mr. Drinker is sure that he will be convicted of treason. Can you not do something to stop it?”
“I am afraid he is right, miss. About his only chance will be for the Governor to pardon him.”
“But only yesterday he said he should not,” wailed Janice. “Can you not persuade him?”
“Guess ’t would be only be a waste of my time,” answered Joe. “He and I have disagreed over some appointments, and we are n’t much of friends in consequence. But aside from that, he’s a great trimmer for popularity, and the people just now are desperate set on having the Tories punished.”
“Don’t say that,” besought the girl. “Surely, if—if— if I promise to marry you, cannot you save him?”
“If ’t was a bridge to be built, or a contract for uniforms, or something of that sort, I’d have real influence in the Assembly; but I am afraid I can’t fix this matter. The Governor’s a consarned obstinate man most times, and I don’t believe he’ll listen to any one in this. What I can do, though, if you’ll just do what you offered, miss, will be to save your property from all risk of being taken from you.”