“It pains me exceedingly—you cannot imagine how much—my dear Miss Mowbray,” he began, “to come here without the unconditional pardon of your father. But there are two circumstances which prevented me from succeeding to the extent of my wishes, and thus having the honor and pleasure of bringing you such welcome news. In the first place, Mr. Mowbray is not, as you suppose, a prisoner to Col. Watson, that officer being on his march to join Lord Rawdon at Camden; but, on the contrary, is in the hands of Lieut. Col. Campbell, who now holds the post of Georgetown, and who, besides being a gentleman of a more inexorable nature, is personally unacquainted with your father. Now, had it been Col. Watson to whom Mr. Mowbray had been surrendered, I indulge the hope that, difficult as the task would have been, his intimacy with yourself and Mrs. Blakeley, to say nothing of my own solicitations, would have procured the release of your parent. But with Col. Campbell the case is different. He is not only a stranger to you all, but he is nearly an entire stranger to myself. There does not exist between us those terms of intimacy that, in the case of Col. Watson, would have justified me in asking for the release of your father as a personal favor.”
Here Major Lindsay stopped, as if expecting Kate to answer; but she only bowed. It was evident also from her look of continued surprise that she could not yet make out the speaker’s purpose.
“In the second place,” continued Major Lindsay slowly, “there is nothing in this case to distinguish it from others—nothing, I mean, to justify Colonel Campbell in his own eyes for pardoning your parent, when so many others, also taken with arms in their hands, are executed. Lord Rawdon’s orders are explicit. Every man who, having once signed the protection, is afterward captured fighting against the king, is to be punished with death. This command hitherto has been rigidly enforced. Nor is there in Mr. Mowbray’s case, as I before said, any thing to take him out of the general rule. On the contrary, as Col. Campbell assured me, there is every reason why he should be proceeded against even more rigidly than others. Your father is rich and has great personal influence; and his pardon would lead the gentry generally to suppose that they could revolt with impunity. To suffer the leaders to escape—these were the words of my superior—yet punish their deluded followers, is neither justice nor good policy. These considerations induced Col. Campbell, to whom I hastened at once as an intercessor, being fortunately in Georgetown, to refuse my suit, though he kindly condescended to explain the reasons, as I have recapitulated to you.”
Kate clasped her hands at these words, and became pale as a corpse.
“Then he is to die!” she gasped. “It is thus you would break the news to me.”
“Nay, not so, as I hope in heaven!” cried Major Lindsay, earnestly, springing forward to support the fainting girl. “Your father’s life may yet be spared—Col. Campbell himself assured me how.”
Kate’s eyes were eagerly turned to the speaker at these words, though by a motion of her hand she waved off his assistance.
“The colonel said,” continued Major Lindsay, seeing she waited for him to speak, “that it was only necessary to give a proper pledge to the royal government for his future neutrality, and Mr. Mowbray might yet be saved. He himself hinted at the character of that pledge, or else I should have remained in doubt. ‘Go to Miss Mowbray,’ he said, ‘and tell her that with her it rests to preserve her father’s life. I have heard of your suit in that quarter; obtain her consent to a speedy marriage; and then to the father-in-law of one of his majesty’s most faithful subjects I can grant that life which I must deny to a rebel in arms.’ These were his words. And now, dear Miss Mowbray, think not I come to take advantage of you,” said Major Lindsay, speaking rapidly and eagerly, as he saw her avert her face, “God knows nothing is further from my thoughts. But it is the weakness of love to be selfish, and when the way by which I might win my suit was thus pointed out to me, I had not the strength to resist. Besides, I knew I should never forgive myself if I refused to come, and your father lost his life in consequence. My very love for you, by making me anxious for his life, would have forced me hither, even if I knew beforehand that you would spurn me.”
Surprise and indignation chased each other through Kate’s mind at hearing these words. The embarrassment of Major Lindsay was now explained, for well might he hesitate to avow his baseness in making her father’s life the price of her hand. Kate was firmly persuaded that he might have saved her parent if he would; and her bosom heaved with indignant feelings. But had she known all: had she known that Major Lindsay himself had planned her father’s capture, and instigated his superior to dictate the only terms of pardon—how would she have turned from him with horror and loathing inexpressible!
Kate’s first impulse was to rise and leave the room. But she remembered how completely she was in her auditor’s power, and her feelings suffered a revulsion. She burst into tears.