William Delaware remarked again a slight noise at the keyhole, and thought that the good old lady laid a peculiar emphasis on the words "_take it!_" He replied, however, "Indeed, Mary, I can not take any thing to-night."
"Pray, do!" she said: "Pray, do! It is the best thing for you, by far. Will you really not take it, Master William?"
As she spoke, he perceived the end of a small piece of paper protruded gradually through the keyhole; and it became evident, that the good old housekeeper, standing between the officer and the door, had contrived, without being detected, to insinuate through the aperture some written information from Captain Delaware's family. The prisoner instantly took a step forward, and, laying hold of the little roll, drew it completely through, saying aloud, "Well, well! I will take it, then."
"Ah, that is right!" cried the voice of the good old lady, joyfully. "There is a good boy!--do always what you are bid! I will send the soup up as soon as ever it is warm!"
"Do so, and thank you!" replied the prisoner. "Tell Blanche and my father," he added, "that, as I am innocent, I doubt not my innocence will soon appear; and bid them be of good heart."
The old lady bade God bless him, and went away; and as soon as he had heard the constable seat himself again in the ante-room, he opened the paper he had received, and read the contents.
It began in the handwriting of the old housekeeper, and had probably been written, in the first instance, without consultation with any one else; but below there appeared a few lines from his father, which had evidently been added afterward.
It began:--"Master William, do get away as fast as you can. Don't stop, for God's sake, to let those wicked people have their will. Remember the trap-door under your bed, where you used to play at hide-and-seek when you were little. Master ordered it to be fastened up long ago; but I had only one nail put in, for what was the use, you know. You can easy get the nail out, I am sure; and there shall be a horse waiting for you at the back park-gate at twelve o'clock to-night, and money and all to take you to foreign parts, till the conspiracy Miss Blanche says is against you, can be proved upon them. So, do now, for the love of Heaven!"
Beneath this epistle, his father had written, in a hasty and tremulous hand:--"I sincerely think the above is the best plan you can follow. There is evidently a conspiracy against us; and, as you have been selected for the victim, it is better for you to make your escape while you can, than remain, and risk all that malice, wealth, art, and villainy can do against you. Take the road to ----, where there are always foreign vessels lying. Write to us when you are safe, under cover to Mr.----, the trustee of your poor mother's little property. Fare-you-well, my dear boy, and God bless you.
"S. D."