Thus the brave-hearted smith was humming, when there came a knocking on the door. Immediately he put an end to his song, and bundled away his things in a great hurry. Opening his door, he saw Nat Ernshaw before him. Hunt, surprised, said not a word, but drew him into the house, carefully closing the door and securely fastening it. He then said, rather sternly, “I think, Mr. Ernshaw, that you have acted very rashly in entering Charleston. Your presence here could have been dispensed with, and I only sent you the message with regard to the capture of Mr. Vale, in order that you might be prepared to act with me, as I should hereafter determine.”
“I know all that,” answered Nat, “but I preferred running the risk and seeing that no stone was left unturned to secure the escape of my friend. According to your wish, my men will be at the designated spot at four o’clock to-morrow morning, and will remain there for about two hours. I would sooner, though, that they could have time to get further away from the city under cover of darkness.”
“I would have liked it well enough myself, for I am opposed to running any useless risk; but, to be of any service, they must be there at that time and at no other. The rescue of your friend must be accomplished to-night, for it will be too late to-morrow to think of it. But you must stand in need of some refreshment after your journey. Our larder is not overstocked with delicacies, but of plain fare there is a sufficiency.”
“I am, to tell the truth, in need of some nourishment, for I have taken little since morning; but I can not rest until my mind is eased on several points. You know, or rather I suppose you know, that John’s sister’s disappearance was what led him into the city; and I would ask whether he has had any intelligence as to her whereabouts?”
“Make yourself easy on that point,” answered Hunt. “She is safe as yet, and this night, if the fates are propitious, you shall see them both.”
“Then I am satisfied,” said Nat, drawing a great sigh of relief, while he looked his gratitude to Hunt.
The blacksmith’s good, willing wife set out a plain repast for Ernshaw. He did ample justice to it, for he was fairly faint from hunger and weariness.
When Ernshaw had finished his meal, Simon resumed the conversation, saying, “The business upon which we will be engaged this night will be dangerous enough; and of the two things which are to be done, I can scarce tell which is the more so—to rescue John Vale from his prison, garrisoned as it is by British soldiers; or to rescue his sister from Jim Fagan’s cottage, garrisoned by any forces which Capt. Preston may have chosen to throw into it. You can have your choice which of the two you will attempt.”
“In all things I will be governed by you, though, if I were to choose, I would let you see to John, while I might be permitted the privilege of bearing away his sister. But you speak confidently, as though your plans were well matured, and there could be no failure. Let me into the secret of your plan of procedure, for I am, as yet, in the dark, and there does not appear to be over much time left for us to do our work in.”
“My plans are simple enough, and need no explanation. It will take but a few minutes for you to learn them.”