"You do me wrong, Lucy—great wrong, believe me. I feel for this young man, and the thought has been no less painful to me than to you, that my agency has contributed in great measure to his danger. But what if I were to have the will, as you say—what if I went forward to the jailer and offered a bribe—would not the bribe which the state has offered for my arrest be a greater attraction than any in my gift? To scale the walls and break the bars, or in any forcible manner to effect the purpose, I must have confederates, and in whom could I venture to confide? The few to whom I could intrust such a design are like myself, afraid to adventure or be seen, and such a design would be defeated by Rivers himself, who so much hates the youth, and is bent on his destruction."
"Speak not of him—say to him nothing—you must do it yourself if you do it all. You can effect much if you seriously determine. You can design, and execute all, and find ready and able assistance, if you once willingly set about it. I am not able to advise, nor will you need my counsel. Assure me that you will make the effort—that you will put your whole heart in it—and I have no fears—I feel confident of his escape."
"You think too highly of my ability in this respect. There was a time, Lucy, when such a design had not been so desperate, but now—"
"Oh, not so desperate now, uncle, uncle—I could not live—not a moment—were he to perish in that dreadful manner. Have I no claim upon your mercy—will you not do for me what you would do for money—what you have done at the bidding of that dreadful wretch, Rivers? Nay, look not away, I know it all—I know that you had the dagger of Colleton—that you put it into the hands of the wretch who struck the man—that you saw him strike—that you strove not to stop his hand. Fear you not I shall reveal it? Fear you not?—but I will not—I can not! Yet this should be enough to make you strive in this service. Heard you not, too, when lie spoke and stopped my evidence, knowing that my word would have saved him—rather than see me brought to the dreadful trial of telling what I knew of that night—that awful night—when you both sought his life? Oh, I could love him for this—for this one thing—were there nothing else besides worthy of my love!"
The incident to which she referred had not been unregarded by the individual she addressed, and while she spoke, his looks assumed a meditative expression, and he replied as in soliloquy, and in broken sentences:—
"Could I pass to the jail unperceived—gain admittance—then—but who would grapple with the jailer—how manage that?—let me see—but no—no—that is impossible!"
"What is impossible?—nothing is impossible in this work, if you will but try. Do not hesitate, dear uncle—it will look easier if you will reflect upon it. You will see many ways of bringing it about. You can get aid if you want it. There's the pedler, who is quite willing, and Chub—Chub will do much, if you can only find him out."
The landlord smiled as she named these two accessaries "Bunce—why, what could the fellow do?—he's not the man for such service; now Chub might be of value, if he'd only follow orders: but that he won't do. I don't see how we're to work it, Lucy—it looks more difficult the more I think on it."
"Oh, if it's only difficult—if it's not impossible—it will be done. Do not shrink back, uncle; do not scruple. The youth has done you no wrong—you have done him much. You have brought him where he is, he would have been safe otherwise You must save him. Save him, uncle—and hear me as I promise. You may then do with me as you please. From that moment I am your slave, and then, if it must be so—if you will then require it, I am willing then to become his slave too—him whom you have served so faithfully and so unhappily for so long a season."
"Of whom speak you?"