He told him that unless some action were taken promptly he saw no escape, and that he seemed doomed to a felon’s cell. The Doctor told his friend that, while he had been present for a little while with the masked mob that broke into the jail, he had been so for the purpose of trying to dissuade them from any act of lawlessness; and the part he had taken could be proved by a hundred witnesses. But all those who had been arrested were indicted with him, which would prevent their testifying for him; and if any others were to come forward to testify, they would simply subject themselves to immediate arrest.
“I can give you no idea,” he wrote, “of the condition of affairs here, and shall offer no proof except my word. Unless you and I have changed since we knew each other man to man in that old time long ago, no other proof will be necessary; yet if I should attempt to give you a true picture, I should strain your credulity.
“I think I can say, with Cicero, it is not my crimes, but my virtues that have destroyed me.
“But if you wish to know the whole state of the case, I would ask you to come down and see for yourself. Unfortunately I shall not be able personally to extend to you the hospitality of my home; but if you will go to my house, my wife and daughter will show you every attention, and do everything in their power to promote your comfort.
“Lying in jail as I am, under indictment for a scandalous crime, with the penitentiary staring me in the face, I perhaps should not sign myself as I do; yet when I call to mind the long and distinguished line of men of virtue who have suffered the same fate, and reflect on my own consciousness of integrity, I believe you would not have me subscribe myself otherwise than as,
“Your old friend, John Cary.”
This letter reached Senator Rockfield at an auspicious time, one evening after dinner, when he was resting quietly at home, enjoying a good cigar, and when his heart was mellow. It happened that certain measures were pending just then, to secure which the Senator’s influence was greatly desired. It also happened that a number of other measures of a very radical character had lately been proposed; and the Senator had gone somewhat deeply into the subject, with the result of unearthing an appalling state of affairs in the whole section from which this letter came. Moreover, Captain Middleton happened to be at the Senator’s house at that very time, and added certain details to those the Senator had learned, which stirred the Senator deeply.
The Senator’s part in the release of the prisoners that shortly followed Dr. Cary’s letter was not known even to Dr. Cary for some time, and was never known generally.
Senator Rockfield read Dr. Cary’s letter all through twice, and then leaned back in his big chair and thought profoundly. The letter dropped from his hand to the floor, and his cigar went out. His wife, seeing that something was moving him deeply, watched him anxiously, and at length asked: “What is it?” For answer, the Senator merely picked up the letter, handed it to her across the table, and again sat back in deep thought. She read it, and looked at him more anxiously than before, her face paling somewhat. His face, which before had been soft with reminiscence, had grown stern. He was conscious that she was looking at him, and conscious of her thoughts as she was of his. Suddenly he rose to his feet.
“Where are you going?” she asked, though in reality she knew.