Greatly out of spirits at the ill success of our visit, we left the governor’s house.
“We must unlock their prison doors with golden keys,” at length said Master Clough. “I have seldom found that fail; but I fear it will go hard with the preacher. If our friend Overton cannot be liberated, these people, who have executed so many others for less offences, will shortly put him to death.”
“If we cannot bribe his guards, we must carry him off by force,” said Captain Radford. “I shall not lack support; and such a mode of proceeding is more to my taste than bribing these villains.”
But the difficulty was to find out where Master Overton was shut up. It might have been in the same prison as the rest of our friends, though it was more probable that he had been carried to some securer jail. Finding nothing more could be done that night, we turned our steps homeward. On entering the house, we found the porter standing pale and trembling, and wringing his hands, while the other servants came hurrying into the hall in a state of the greatest trepidation and alarm.
“What is the matter—what else has happened?” asked Master Clough.
“They have carried her off! It was not our fault—they deceived us. They have borne her away!”
It was now my turn to be anxious.
“Who? who?” I asked, scarcely able to utter the words.
“It is the young lady—Mistress Radford,” answered one of the servants.
“Oh! my daughter! where have they borne her to?” cried Captain Radford.