University of Virginia Library

13. CHAPTER XIII.

The invalid captain and the negro Cæsar
had both listened to the narrative of Colonel
Ogilvie's misfortunes and crime with the
deepest attention. The old seaman's eyes
often sparkled with indignation, often melted
with sympathy as Gordon proceeded with the
story. When he had concluded, he said in
an emphatic manner:

`He ought not to be hung. The world
would acquit him if it knew the particulars.
Why don't his friends apply to the governor
for his pardon?'

`I have done it, Capt. Alison. The govorner
says that he pities him, but cannot extend
to him clemency. He says that the
world will say it is because he is rich and of
respectable standing. He said the mob
would destroy the prison to get at him, if
they thought we would be pardoned.'

`It is a pity, a great pity,' said the captain,
sadly. `I wish from my heart, sir, that
he could escape in some way.'

`That wish, captain, is but the echo of
mine and of his son's, who—

`Has he a son?'

`An officer in the navy. He was absent
at the time of his father's arrest and trial.
He is now in the city. He is my near and
dear friend. My heart bleeds for him. He
has resolved to rescue his father if it is in
the power of mortal man to do it.'

`I am glad to hear that. This is good news.
But what can he do? What plan has he
formed?'

`May I safely trust you, Capt. Alison?'

`Heart and hand; and if I can in any
way aid you I will do it.'

`You can, at least with your influence.
Colonel Ogilvie's son and myself are combined
together in the plan of achieving his
escape. It was decided between us that if
the governor refused to pardon him we would
endeavor to effect his escape. For this purpose,
Hugh, his son, provided at Marblehead,
three weeks ago, a swift sailing shallop,
which he has fitted up comfortably within,
though on the outside it still resembles a
fisher's vessel. This he has been getting
ready to avail himself of should I fail in my
appeal to the governor. Last night, previous
being informed of my failure, he arrived
here, and is now on board his shallop concealed
under the island a mile and a half
down the harbor; while I am here on shore
to perfect a plan I have projected for rescuing
the colonel from the dreadful fate that awaits
him, and placing him in safety on board the
shallop.'

`How can I serve you or his son?' asked the
captain, earnestly. `You see what I am; a
poor cripple, and have no possessions but this
gold, your blessed gift, and my dear daughter.'

`You can serve me, if you will influence
your daughter.'

`In what way?' asked the captain, quickly,
while an expression of mingled joy and
hope lighted up his features.

`In two ways,' answered Gordon, with a
smile and a look of embarassment. One
way in inducing her to enter into our plans,
another way in inducing her to accept of my
hand as she already has my heart.'

`Is it possible! are you not jesting—playing
with an old man's vanity? Lieutenant
Hays, I owe you my life, my daughter has been
protected by you in danger, and only gratitude
burns in my heart towards you. Do not trifle
with my feelings, sir, and cause me to fear
and despise you. I am a poor man, and my
child is humble like her father. She is, nevertheless,
too pure to be spoken lightly of.'

`Captain Alison, you misunderstand me
and do me injustice. What I said I mean.
My thoughts of your lovely child are most
honorable. I have seen enough of her character
to love her. As I have told you she
already has my heart, and if you will consent
that I shall address her you will render me
the happiest of men.'

`Can this be true? Do I hear aright?
My poor child honorably loved by one so rich
and eminent, and one I know to be brave
and worthy God be thanked. But I seem
to be in a dream.' And the old captain's
eyes filled with tears.

`It is no dream, sir. It is a reality.'

`But where have you spoken with her
and seen her to know and love her? for whoever
does know her must love her.'

`You shall hear, captain, and I will show
you that I have seen and known enough of
the beauty of her character, and goodness of
heart to admire her above all other women.'

Gordon then proceeded to inform the captain
the circumstances as already known to
the reader, under which he first met Jennette
when she so benevolently assisted the
poor Italian showman; and he also narrated
what passed at their two subsequent meetings,
and especially commented upon her desire for
him never to think of her more.

The happy captain listened with deep surprise
and emotion at the recital. When
Gordon had ended with, `so you see, my dear
sir, that I shall have to ask your influence
to aid me in my suit, since she so fears me,'
he cried, with tearful cheeks, as he grasped
the hand of Gordon:

`No, no, sir, you need none of mine. She
loves you as heartily as you love her.'

`How do you know this?' asked Gordon,
with animation.

`By her manner—her words—her tears and
sighs, by all of which she has for some time
shown me that she had a secret at heart. But
when I have asked her what was the matter
she has turned it off and left me in the dark.
This is it. Besure she loves you, my noble
lieutenant, and that you will have no need of
any of my interference. You have made me
the happiest of men. I could dance for joy
if it were not for my lame leg. Of all men
in the world to love my daughter and ask her
in marriage the man I most loved and esteemed.
Let me call her and tell her her
happiness.'

`No, not by any means, sir,' answered
Gordon, quickly. `She may take a different
view of it from any that you do. I have not
forgotten how firmly she bade me think of
her no more,'

`That was because she could not believe
you were sincere and honorable. Knowing
her own humbleness of station.'

`It may have been so, though I fear she
saw something in me repulsive.'

`Not Jennette. If she doesn't confess she
loves you I'll give my head for a main-truck.
I'll call to her and ask her at once.'

`Not for the world, captain. If I should
need your influence can I depend upon it.'

`How can I say anything but yes, lieutenant.'

`And if I should wish her aid in the enterprise
before us?'

`Do you mean the plan for rescuing Colonel
Ogilvie?'

`Not quite so loud, captain. Yes, I may
need her aid.'

`In any way that she can serve you I consent
if Jennette does. But you must not
place the dear girl in any danger, lieutenant.'

`No, sir. She is dearer to me than my
own life. But I may wish her to take a part
that I would give my sister if I dared trust
her, but I dare not, or rather do not wish to;
as she and Colonel Ogilvie's son were lovers
prior to the colonel's unfortunate affair; and
on that account she has refused to see him.
She is a good hearted girl, but proud and
sensitive; and though I have no doubt that
she still secretly loves him, she will not betray
it. She feels that she could never wed the
son of a man condemned to the gallows, even
though he be innocent of the crime. But
Colonel Ogilvie actually did commit the act
with which he was charged, and for which he
was sentenced, though he intended no mere
mail robbery.'

`The law judges the fact, not the intention,'
said the captain. It was an unfortunate affair.
Your sister herself cannot be blamed.'

`I do not censure her, much as I love young
Ogilvie. But I do not wish to entrust to
her a secret that she might not wish to have
anything to do with.'

`It would not be judicious. But how
could she or my Jennette serve you?' asked
Captain Alison.

`In this way. The keeper is, as I have
seen, a lover of strawberries, and has an eye
for the pretty strawberry merchant. Two
days ago, as I was walking in the vicinity of
the prison gates endeavoring to study out the
most plausible means of getting the colonel
out of it, I noticed a young and good looking
girl go into the office where the fat jolly looking
keeper usually sits smoking a German
pipe. The door was open upon the street,
and the girl stepped timidly in, being called
to by him. As he priced the strawberries
he admired her eyes, and patted her on the
chin with his finger as he ate the berries out
of her basket. On one side of the office
was an open door that led upon a balcony or
gallery which communicated with the dwelling,
and also by a flight of steps with the
court yard of the prison. Over the door I
beheld hanging a bunch of keys, which I
satisfied myself were the keys of the cells,
by following a prisoner who was taken from
the court to the jail, and seeing him received
by the keeper who took down those keys to
open the inner doors.'

`Now if those keys could be got hold of,'
said the captain, with deep interest.

`So thought I, and I at length conceived a
plan which I shall try to carry into effect if I
can obtain the aid of the fair Jennette. My
plan is for her to represent a strawberry or
flower girl and go into the office, and while
she is entertaining the keeper with lively
conversation, Ogilvie, in the guise of a carpenter,
with a box of tools, was to step in and
ask the girl to take some of the strawberries
to his house. He would then watch his opportunity
and knock down the keys, as if by
accident, with a saw that is carried across
his shoulder for that purpose. Instead of replacing
the same bunch of keys he adroitly
takes another in exact imitation of it, from
his box of tools, and hangs it up, while he
takes possession of the true keys.'

`This, if well done, will be a great step,
but what will you do with the keeper when
you have got the keys?'

`I shall give Jennette, if she will take the
part of strawberry girl, a small smelling bottle
which she will make a present of to the keeper,
getting him to smell it. One inhalation
of it will stupify his senses, and render him
unconscious of what passes around him. Hugh
Ogilvie, then, habited as a carpenter, will
close the outer door, take the keys and penetrate
to his father's cell, for having been there
twice he took particular notice what keys
were used by the keeper to open the doors
leading to it.'

`But what will become of Jennette, the

strawberry girl?' asked the captain, with a
look of alarm and surprise.

`She will leave the office as soon as the
ether takes effect, and I shall be near with a
carriage to remove her at once from the
scene, and bring back in safety to you.'

`It is a perilous business, sir,' said the
captain, shaking his head gravely. `My dear
child is all to me.'

`She is equally dear to me, if possible, my
dear captain. There is no real danger. She
will be disguised, and she will have left before
it will have taken full effect, or alarm given.
Nobody will ever suspect her agency. Nay,
were she to remain near by on the side-walk
who would ever suppose she had any act in
the fainting of the keeper?'

`But the keeper will be rude to her.'

`No; I should be the last person to place
her in the way of insult,' answered Gordon,
warmly. `His office door will be open—he
has a family of his own within call—and besides
he is too respectable to fear that. He
merely loves a pretty face, and such can tempt
him to forget his keys for five minutes, aided
by wit and courage.'

`Well, I will say no more. But when the
young man gets to his father's cell, what is
he to do?'

`Bring him forth, and place him upon a saddle
horse, which, with another for Hugh,
Cæsar here will hold in readiness for him a few
yards off. A back might be followed and overtaken,
but a saddle horse would be able to fly
soon from the scene of danger. They will
ride at once to this remote pier, where a boat
will receive them, and take them on board the
shallop which will at once sail for Halifax.'

`This is an excellently arranged plan, my
dear lieutenant, all save Jennette's part in
it. But I wont say a word against it if you
can persuade her. I know you are an honorable
man, and would not place her in any
peril, or her honor either. I will call her.
But I wish you could do without the strawberry
girl.

`I should have to invent an entire new
mode of proceeding to do so. This seems the
most likely to succeed, though I wish I could
devise a better. Now will you let me see
Jennette alone?'

`Yes; Cæsar and I will go and sit out on
the stoop, and I will call Jennette down,' answered
the old captain, rising.