“But—”
“In God’s name, squire, don’t lose the opportunity by delay! ’T is best, whatever comes; for even if by the most marvellous luck I can convince the court that I am no spy, and so go free, the moment the legislature meets, they will vote a bill of forfeiture against me; so ’t is the one means to save the property, whatever comes.”
“Ye have the sense of it, lad,” acceded Mr. Meredith, “and I’ll do as ye tell me, this instant. But I’ll do all that’s possible to save ye as well, and if ye but go free, ye shall be not a penny the worse off, that I swear to ye.”
“And if not, ’t is what I would do with the lands, were I dying a natural death, squire.”
“Don’t lose hope, lad,” said the squire, his hand on Phil’s shoulder. “Once the parson has drawn the deeds, I’ll see Washington himself; and we’ll save ye yet.” Then he hurried away towards the parsonage.
During this dialogue other occurrences had been taking place, which very much interested yet mystified the crowd of spectators. When the conference between the general and major had ended, Brereton walked to the doctor’s house and entered it. The major meantime went over to the constable, and in response to something he said, the town official took out his keys, and unlocked the stocks, a proceeding which set both soldiers and townsfolk whispering curiously.
“Free the prisoner Bagby’s hands and feet, Corporal Cox, and set him in,” commanded the major.
“What in the ’nation is comin’!” marvelled one of the observers. “Of all rum ways o’ treatin’ a suspect, this ’ere is the rummiest.”
Another pause followed, save for a new outburst from Joe, concerning the kinds of vengeance he intended to shortly inaugurate; but presently Brereton and the doctor came across the green, the latter carrying a bottle and spoon in his hand.
“This is the one,” said the general; and then, as the doctor stepped forward and poured the spoon full from the bottle, he ordered, “Open your mouth, Mr. Bagby.”