“And, verily, I know thee,” exclaimed the old man. “And what is thy name?”
“Thine own,” answered Wenlock.
“Carry them both off to prison. They will hang together well,” exclaimed the governor.
In spite of Wenlock’s protestations that he had been sent in the character of an envoy by the governor of the new state, he and his uncle were committed to prison. The old man, however, seemed but little concerned at this.
“We shall be set at liberty ere long, nephew,” he said; “and I rejoice greatly to have at length found thee, and more than all, that thou hast embraced the true and perfect way of life.”
Bill Rullock, on hearing what had occurred, was very indignant, and, almost forgetting that he himself had become a Quaker, was about to attempt forcibly to liberate his friend.
The governor kept Wenlock shut up, but seemed doubtful about proceeding with him. His uncle was, however, brought up day after day, refusing to acknowledge himself guilty, warning his persecutors of the punishment which was soon to overtake them. Old Rullock employed himself in making interest with various people in the place, to obtain the liberation of his friend, warning them that though Master William Penn might not take vengeance on them, there was a certain Colonel Markham, who would be influenced by no such scruples. The result was, that not only young Wenlock, but old Christison, was set at liberty.
“Nephew, I have wealth,” exclaimed his uncle, “and I rejoice to find one who will inherit it. However, of one thing I am resolved, not to spend it among this people. The account thou dost give me of the new colony has made me resolve to go and end my days there; and we will together leave in the vessel that brought thee hither, as soon as she is ready to sail.”
Although the Friends were no longer persecuted at Boston, as may be supposed, it was not a pleasant city for them to reside in. A considerable number, therefore, set sail on board the Amity, which had a prosperous voyage to the Delaware.