University of Virginia Library

27. CHAPTER XXVII.
THE EXPRESS TRAVELLERS—AN UNEXPECTED MEETING.

Several days passed, during which Captain Vrail heard no
tidings of his brother, and he almost ceased longer to entertain a
hope that Harry had escaped. How dreadful would probably be
his fate, if a prisoner, he very well knew, and he felt, if not the
pangs of affectionate regret, the stings of an accusing conscience,
which pointed to himself as doubly the author of his brother's
misfortunes. To rid himself of this remorse, and to avoid the
censure of the world, if from no worthier motive, he would have
done much to bring about his brother's liberation, but he lacked
that bold energy of character, and that noble, disinterested affection,
which prompts to great and self-sacrificing deeds.

While he hesitated in ignoble irresolution, he heard of the extreme
severity of punishment which was decided by the Canadian
government to be visited upon the foreign portion of their prisoners,
and especially upon all who shared in any degree the responsibility
of command. Rumors of summary trials and executions
began already to prevail, and he trembled to think that he might
at any hour hear of his brother's death.

While he sat on the piazza of his hotel, gloomily reflecting
upon these things, his attention was arrested by an approaching
stage-coach from the south, which was entering the village with
most extraordinary rapidity, its four stout bays covered with sweat
and foam, and their driver urging them with lash and voice to
still greater speed.

“Here comes an extra, with a crazy driver or a drunken one,”
said the landlord of the inn, attracted to the door by the sound of
the approaching vehicle, for it was not the regular hour for the
arrival of the daily coach.

“Why do you drive into town at this mad rate?” he continued,
addressing the Jehu as he drew up at the tavern door, and leapt,
reins in hand, to the ground.

“I don't know—it's on the way-bill, to be put through by
eleven o'clock this morning, and I've done it, and two minutes to
spare.”

“Better spared your horses,” said the landlord, taking the
offered way-bill, on which the driver pointed out the orders which
justified his seemingly improper speed. “An exclusive extra,
hey?” he continued, examining the paper more closely, and then
turning to see who his new guests were, for by this time the
coach door had been opened, and its inmates were alighting.
Whatever may have been the inn-keeper's impression of the
strangers, there was one person whose astonishment was unlimited
at the sight of them.

“Gertrude Van Kleeck, by all that is wonderful!” exclaimed
Captain Vrail, “and young Van Vrank, and I don't know who
else. What can all this mean? She must be married, of course,
and they are on their wedding trip. But how singular that they
should come here! And to such a fellow as that, too!”

Tom uttered these words in soliloquy, finding a gleam of consolation
for his rejection by Gertrude in the thought that it must
have resulted from an engagement to her boorish cousin, and he
was about to retire from observation, but he had already been
discovered both by the lady and by Van Vrank, the latter of whom
summarily left his companions and rushed up to him with extended
hand, and with a broad smile of joy upon his good-natured
countenance.

“Why Squire Tom,” he said, shaking him painfully by the hand,

“it is you, sure enough, isn't it? I'm right glad to see you safe
out of the scrape, any way—that I am; and is Harry really here,
too?”

Gertrude and Ruth had been left standing on the stoop but a
few yards from Vrail, and he could do no less than instantly
approach them, which he did before replying to the question of
Van Vrank. He was startled by the pale face and anxious expression
of Miss Van Kleeck, as he addressed her and inquired after
her health, and by a similar look of alarm and distress in the countenance
of the fair child at her side. If this were a bridal party
he thought, it was the most doleful one he had ever seen.

“It has kind of frightened 'em both you see, to meet you here
so unexpectedly,” continued Garret; “and they are afraid of hearing
bad news, I suppose. Let us go inside, where we shan't have
everybody staring at us, and there you can tell us all about it.

From the moment Gertrude had caught sight of Vrail, her emotion
had been almost overpowering. The blissful hope that Harry
was also safe was accompanied by the dread of meeting him under
such embarrassing circumstances, but these feelings were instantly
followed by a harrowing fear that he was not saved, and an oblivion
of all other considerations.

Again and again she strove to speak the simple words, “Is your
brother safe?” but utterance was as impossible to her as to one
untaught in articulation. They entered the ladies' public room,
but they were alone.

“Now tell us about your brother, Squire Tom,” said Garry.
“I'm afraid he isn't here, or we should have seen him before
this.”

“Are you his brother?” exclaimed Ruth, now for the first time
comprehending who was the stranger they had encountered. She
sprang forward impulsively as she spoke, and laid a hand upon his
arm. “Oh, he would have died for you,” she continued; “he
talked so much of you, and feared so much that you were taken;

and when he found the boat was gone which would have saved
him, he laughed for joy to think that you had taken it.”

Tom sank to a chair and covered his face with his hands.

“He is lost!” exclaimed Gertrude faintly.

“You may as well tell us the worst now, Mr. Vrail,” said Garry;
“it won't be worse than we are all thinking already. Sit down,
Getty, before you fall down. If he is shot or hung, why, say so,
Tom, and have done with it. It can't be helped now.”

“I know nothing of his fate,” replied Vrail, “excepting that he
was not killed in battle. I have never heard of, or from him
since.”

“Thank God!” exclaimed a gentle voice, which the soldier did
not hear.

“Well, come, now, it isn't so bad after all. I expected to hear
worse news than that, and there may be some hope yet.”

Tom shook his head, as if incredulous.

“If that is the last you have heard of Harry, we can tell you
some news, or rather, Ruth here can, and I will leave her to do so,
while I go and order breakfast, for we must be moving again soon,
I suppose. They would go without eating, but I must have one
good meal before I can go another mile, for I am hungry enough
to eat my boots.”

Garret went out, and Ruth, in reply to Tom's eager and rapid
questions, told in few words the substance of her story, as far as
related to Harry, and not deeming that there was any cause for
the suppression of the whole truth, she concluded her statement
by saying, that they were on their way to Kingston, to see if anything
could be done to save him.

The young man was really affected at hearing the certainty of
his brother's perilous position, but his concern yielded temporarily
to surprise on learning of Miss Van Kleeck's extraordinary undertaking.
He had never suspected the existence of any attachment
between Harry and Gertrude, but the suspicion now flashed upon

his mind that they were really plighted lovers, and that he had
been deceived by Harry, and had been duped into making the proposal
which had had so mortifying a termination. But a moment's
reflection banished this idea, for he knew that Harry was in all
things the soul of sincerity and frankness. They might, however,
have become engaged since his own rejection by Gertrude,
and this he concluded must have been the case, although he
thought it strange that Harry should not have informed him of it.
These changing thoughts had passed through his mind before the
sound of Ruth's voice had died upon his ear, and he was impulsively
about to say something to Gertrude expressive of his surprise,
when, speaking for the first time, she anticipated his remark.

“You will think very strange of all this, I know,” she said.
hesitatingly; “but there was no one else to respond to your brother's
appeal for help, which this poor child had travelled three
hundred miles to bring to his friends. Your grandfather was too
ill even to be allowed to hear the sad tidings, and cousin Garret,
who met your brother's messenger in the village, brought her to
me, at my request. Harry was my father's friend. I knew what
he would have done, had he been living, and I am his representative.
We may not be able to effect anything in your brother's
behalf; perhaps it is presumptuous to to hope that we can; but if
I had allowed any opportunity to pass, of assisting a friend in so
great a peril, I should always feel in some degree chargeable with
the consequences, which in this case may be so very terrible. No
one at home knows of my undertaking, excepting my legal adviser,
Mr. Gray, and he will disclose nothing. I shall rely also upon
your perfect secrecy, and I have even hopes that, if we should succeed
in our enterprise, it can be done without your brother ever
knowing of my agency in obtaining his release. But gratifying as
this would be to me, you may be assured no chance of benefiting
him shall be sacrificed to a consideration so purely personal.”

The events through which Thomas Vrail had been passing, and

the revelations of nobler natures than his own, which had been
disclosed to him, were gradually working a favorable change in
his own character.

“You are an angel, Getty,” he said, “and that was what poor
Harry always said of you. I will keep your secret; not only that
which you have confided to me, but that which I can so easily
guess. I should be a monster if I could do or say anything to
annoy you.”

Gertrude blushed scarlet at these words, but she extended her
hand to meet the one offered by her late lover, in pledge of confidence
and appreciating friendship.

“How soon shall you resume your journey?” he asked.

“I hope to be in Canada within an hour,” replied Gertrude,
and on the way to Kingston as soon as a conveyance can be procured.
We have to wait here for breakfast.”

An impatient look accompanied this remark. The young man
mused a moment, apparently in perplexed and painful thought,
and then said,

“It will be a perilous undertaking for me, but I will accompany
you. I have risked my life once for fame; let me now do it
for a nobler motive.”

“I am glad for your sake to hear you make such a proposal,”
replied Miss Van Kleeck; “but you may be assured it is not the
most prudent course even for your brother's interests, for your
detection and arrest would greatly complicate matters, and would
perhaps defeat the few chances we may have of success. Let me
advise you rather to remain here, where a messenger can reach
you in a short time from Kingston, if we find that your services
can be rendered available there.”

“If the case were reversed, I know that Harry would not be
withheld from coming to me at all risks, but I shall never be as
good as he. I will be guided by your advice, but do not hesitate
to send for me if I can do anything for him. But a thought

occurs to me this moment which may possibly be of importance,
and yet—I do not know”—

Thomas hesitated, but in obedience to Gertrude's anxious look
of inquiry, he continued,

“There is a man here of singular powers and resources, who,
I believe, is about to proceed to Kingston, and who might be in
some way serviceable to you there. I am not at liberty to say
more of him, but I think it would be well for you to meet him
here, and to let him know your errand in Canada.”

“If there is the least probability of his aiding us, let us see him,
of course, for we are going among entire strangers.”

“I will go for him immediately, and if he has not already left
town, I will bring him to you.”

Vrail went at once in pursuit of Johnson, now known and
spoken of only as Mr. Miller, whom, to his great joy, he found at
his lodgings, but as yet undecided on making his hazardous journey.
He manifested a great interest in the singular effort which
was being made for Harry's release, and although he could see
little prospect of its favorable issue, he immediately accompanied
the young man to meet the travellers, and showed an earnest disposition
to co-operate with them in their generous undertaking.
He gave to Miss Van Kleeck letters to an influential and prominent
member of the patriot cause at Kingston, instructed her at
what hotel to stay, and hinted at the possibility of himself seeing
her there within a few days.

For all this Gertrude returned the sincerest thanks, little suspecting
the true character of her visitor, and hoping little from his
alliance. Their interview was short, and within an hour after he
had taken his leave, the travellers were in Canada, and were posting
by express coach to Kingston, Gertrude being too impatient
to wait for the steamboat, which was not to leave till late in the
afternoon.