“They are true Catholics, I have no doubt; but I fancy they would prefer plain silver after all.”
“Blessed Mary!” said the fosterer, “I wonder where the old lady got this charm,” for I had drawn my mother’s amulet from my bosom. “She told you,” he continued, “never to open it.”
“Oh, no, Mark, I was directed when necessity pressed me, to use a free discretion.”
“Why, then,” returned the fosterer, “we will never be in a greater mess, Mark. Open it, Hector, dear! Not that I believe in charms, although I remember an old man at home that would cure cows when they were fairly given over by the smith.”
“Well, Mark, your curiosity shall be gratified.” I opened the silken envelope, unfolded a sealed paper—no relic was there—but, what answered our present necessities far better—an English bank note for fifty pounds.
“Ah—long life to her ladyship!—wasn’t she considerate?” exclaimed Mark Antony. “Talk of relics—isn’t that a beautiful one!”
“But will it answer our purposes, Rawlings?” I inquired.
“Senhor La Pablos would tell you not; but you will see how soon he will discover more dollars than we require, and take his chance. But no time must be lost—‘tis past midnight;—and within three hours we must succeed or fail. Get ready. When the time comes for the trial, minutes may crown or mar it,” he said—left us to ourselves:—and while the fosterer made up a change of linen, I sate down, and conveyed, my parting adieus to my friend the voltigeur.
Rawlings was not long away. He returned, having completed every arrangement, as he said,—and the following night was named as that on which we should make the attempt that would ensure our liberty, or rivet our fetters if we failed. The fosterer and I retired, but not to sleep; and we were early afoot, and waiting for some more intelligence from the honest sailor regarding our nocturnal enterprise, when the captain of voltigeurs, as was his custom, dropped in to make his morning inquiries.
“Am I to congratulate or condole?” said Captain Cammaran, when he made his morning call. “You are pronounced fit for service by the surgeon; my parole consequently has expired—and no doubt you will be required in a day or two to interchange it for your own.”