University of Virginia Library

19. CHAPTER XIX.

The keeper of the prison gazed with surprise
and admiration upon the pretty faee
and modest, cast-down look of the young
strawberry-girl, for the lamp above the door,
as well as the light in the office, shone full
upon her.

`Strawberries, sir? Buy my fresh strawberries,
sir?' said Jennette, with admirable
self-possession; for the more imminent became
the danger of her position, the more
her courage rose.

`Strawberries, eh?' said the keeper.—
`Well, if they are as sweet as the seller, they
will be worth the purchasing. Step in and
let me see thee—I mean thy berries;' and,
turning his chair round, he laid down his
cigar and wiped his lips with his red cotton
handkerchief, preparatory to tasting the delicate
berries. `Step in, step in; don't be
bashful!'

Jennette hesitated, but it was only for an
instant, and then timidly entered the lodge,
and uncovered the basket, while she tried to
keep her features hidden from his bold stare.

`I' faith! they are noble large ones, and
sweet too, withal,' he said, as he placed one
of the largest in his mouth. `How dost sell
them?'

`Ten cents a quart, sir.'

`Beshrew me, that is a round price, but I
dare say the two cents over the market price
goes towards thy pretty face. It an't every
day we see such fine eyes beneath a strawberry-girl's
hood. Look up, and let me see
if thy rosy cheeks are not stained with thine
own berries.'

As he spoke, he would have put his finger
beneath her chin to raise up her face, but she
stepped back laughing, and saying—

`I did not come to bring my cheeks to
market, but my strawberries, sir!'

`Well answered—but thy cheeks would
bring a better market, girl.'

`I have here some flowers, sir. Perhaps
if you like not my berries, these might please
you. They are very pretty, and contain some
rare flowers;' and she coquetishly held up
before his eyes two exquisitely arranged boquets.

`They be handsome.'

`Perhaps your wife or daughter would like
one, sir. Ladies are fond of flowers.'

`You say true, girl. What is the price of
this with the blue flower shaped like a church
bell?'

`That, I will let you have for a shilling.'

`A good sum—but seeing it is you, my
pretty maiden, I will buy it for my wife.—
Now for thy berries; I will take the four
quarts thou hast at eight cents.'

`Not less than ten, sir.'

`If I give thee ten, I must have a kiss,
pretty one.'

`Indeed, sir, I never sold kisses; you will
find them at the confectioner's.'

`Beshrew me, but you know how to be
witty,' responded the keeper, with a laugh.
`I like strawberries, but I cannot pay thee
above nine cents.'

`How do you sell your berries, girl?' asked
a carpenter, stopping at the door, and resting
on his saw as he looked in. `If the keeper
does not buy, I will take what thou hast,
at thine own price—for I am to have a little

party at home, to-night, and these will help
greatly to the entertainment.'

`I will take them all, then, at ten cents,
my pretty girl; so go thy ways, Mr. carpenter—or,
if thou would'st spend thy money,
buy the flowers she has tied up, so prettily.'

`Let me see them,' said Hugh, entering
the lodge, and approaching the basket. As
he did so, he managed to pass so near the
keys as to knock them down from the brass
pin on which they were hanging. They fell
to the floor with a lond clash. Quicker than
lightning, while his back was turned towards
the keeper, to whose nose Jennette was closely
holding a boquet, in order to keep him
from seeing, he placed the real bunch in his
box, and standing up, hung upon the nail the
false one.

`Thou art a bungler with thy box, man,'
said the keeper, looking round and seeing
him hanging up the keys. `Go outside of
the door, and home, if thou dost not buy her
flowers, for I have taken her strawberries.'

`I beg your pardon, sir, for my awkwardness,
but nothing broke.'

`It would take hammer and anvil to break
them keys, much less a fall. Go stand in the
door—for I don't allow people I don't know,
to stand about here.'

Hugh stepped towards the door, in which
he stood watching Jennette, as if waiting to
purchase her boquets, when she should come
out. He remarked, with surprise, her perfect
self-possession and admirable tact.

`I have a vinaigrette to sell also, sir,' she
said, holding up before him the fatal little
bottle, with its silver top. `I found it as I
came along. It smells very delightfully;—
will you buy it?'

`Found it?' he said, taking it from her
and looking at it with a covetous eye. `If
you found it, you can't claim it.'

`I will give it to you, sir, if you please. I
do not care for it. Perhaps you may find the
owner, as you know so many more people
than I do.'

`True, very true. I dare say I shall easily
find the owner. It is worth, at the least, five
dollars,' he added, to himself. `How do you
open it?' he asked, trying to unscrew the
stopper.

`Let me show you, sir; there—touch this
very small point, no bigger than the head of
a pin, and it will fly open.'

`Oh yes, I see. Really,' he added, as he
placed it to his nostrils, while Jennette
stepped back a step or two, not to inhale any
portion of the escaping ether; `really, it is
very delicious. It is something like—like,'
here he took another long inhalation—`like
lemon—no—rose—or something be— be—
betw— Dear me! How my head swims!
Where are you, girl? Who has put out the
lights? Catch me; I am fall—'

The keeper could not complete the last
word. Rapidly overcome by the influence
of the subtle fluid, which he had inhaled very
freely, he closed his eyes, the vinaigrette
dropped from his hand, and he fell over in a
state of utter insensibility, into the arms of
Hugh Ogilvie who laid him back in his arm
chair, and, at the same instant, closed the
street door and locked it. Jennette was already
gone—for she had no sooner seen the
effects of the ether begin to exhibit themselves,
than, satisfied her part was done, she
strictly obeyed Gordon's instructions, and
hastened from the lodge.

She had not proceeded twenty steps from
the door, ere Gordon was at her side. He
drew her arm within his, and hurried her
away from the spot, but not before he had
seen the door closed on the inner side.

`Noble Jennette!' he said, pressing her
hand to his heart, `you have performed your
part well. I have watched the whole, from
the opposite side of the street. You tremble
all over. Your courage must not fly away
from you now. What! are you ill? You
hang upon my arm as if you were fainting!'

There was no reply, and her whole weight
fell upon him. He saw that she was become
insensible, and, taking her up in his arms, he

bore her onward to the coach, which he found
where he had left it.

`Generous creature! She nerved herself
to a task that was too much for her. The reaction
has overwhelmed her,' he said, with
grief.

`No—I am better now, Gordon,' she said,
softly. `I can get in the carriage. It was
only a momentary faintness. I am quite myself
again.'

`Then lose no time in throwing off this
outside disguise, and thus prevent any recognition,
should the keeper recover, our plan
have failed, and pursuit made.'

`Leave me here, and go and see what happens,
Gordon. I will not leave the spot.'

`I will go and learn what passes. I could
not drive home with you in this state of suspense,
touching the result of our efforts.—
Here, if you remain in the coach, you will be
perfectly safe—especially if you divest yourself
without delay of your strawberry-girl's
character.'

`That I will do at once. Hasten, that you
may return soon.'

`Another dollar, coachman, for a quarter
of an hour's more delay,' said Gordon, as he
passed him and hastened away towards the
prison.

`I will wait all night at that price the quarter
of an hour,' answered the man, partly to
himself, partly addressing Jennette through
the window of the coach.

Upon coming in front of the prison, Gordon
found all as yet quiet. The lodge door
was closed, and all was dark within, as the
passengers in the street passed and repassed
without suspicion.

`They suppose he has closed his office
earlier than usual,' mused Gordon. `What
a moment is this to Hugh and to his father!
I wonder what he is doing? how far he is
being successful? I will stand here, within
this nook, and watch the issue. If he fails
not utterly, he must soon be forthcoming.'

Thus speaking, Gordon placed himself
within the shadow of a recess between two
buildings, where, without being observed, he
could mark all that transpired at the prison.

We now return to Hugh. He had no sooner
placed the insensible form of the keeper in
the arm-chair, than, as we have seen, he
closed and locked the door on the inner side.
He then, seeing the cord upon the table, left
there by the apprentice-boy, took it and
bound him to the chair with it, little imagining
that it was the rope selected by the
keeper for his father's neck. Having bound
him fast, he tied a handkerchief firmly across
his mouth, in order to prevent his giving any
alarm, should he recover his consciousness
too soon.

`Now,' he said, as he took up a lantern,
which the keeper used to carry with him to
visit his cells, `now, my dear father, in five
minutes you shall be free.'

He then took the keys, and having marked
well, when formerly conducted to his father's
room, what keys unlocked the intermediate
doors, he now proceeded to avail himself of
his knowledge then gained.

After quitting the office by the rear door,
he found himself upon a gallery, or corridor,
which extended along two of the inner walls
of the prison, twenty feet from the ground
floor of the lower court. He walked at a
quick step along this gallery, until he came
to its extremity—where a locked door barred
his progress. After applying two keys, the
third opened it. He entered, leaving it ajar,
and found himself within a sort of vestibule,
gloomy and narrow, with three passages leading
from it in different directions. He took
the left hand one, and, ascending four steps,
came to an inner door heavily barred and
bolted. This he unlocked with some difficulty
and delay, and, throwing it back, found
that it led him into a wide open hall, on all
sides surrounded by doors that conducted to
the prisoners' cells.

Here he stopped, to recollect which door
led to his father's, for all were so similar he
could not, for the moment, decide. At length
he recollected the number—and, hastening

forward across the paved hall, which echoed
to his light tread, he applied his key to the
padlock, and, unlocking it, loosened the
massive bar of iron that was secured across it.

The door swung back from its hinges, and
uttering his father's name with a suppressed
cry of joy, Hugh bounded into the cell.—
There was no sound—no response! All was
silence and solitude! He looked with his
lamp hurriedly all round the cell, and, with a
pang of grief and deep disappointment, saw
that it was vacated!

For a moment he stood irresolute and
almost overcome. The cup of happiness
which he thought was in his grasp, had eluded
his hand. Suddenly the thought occurred
to him that his father being condemned so
shortly to be executed, had probably been
removed to the condemned prisoner's cell.
Where this was situated he had no idea. Every
moment of his time was of incalculable
importance. He could not stay to deliberate or
to examine the cells. All at once a prisoner
called to him through the grating over his door

`Ho, Mr. keeper, I am not well; give me
some water.'

`Where is the prisoner who was in the
cell next to you?' asked Hugh quickly.

`What? you are not the keeper. Who
are you?' growled the prisoner.

`A carpenter come to measure him for
his coffin.'

`So he'll be hanged at last, hey? Well,
a gentleman ought to die as well as a rogue,
if he acts like a rogue. He ain't here, but
in the cell at the left of the last turning as
you go through the second door. See that
you give good measure, Master carpenter,
for hanged men must have plenty of room,
for a man stretches ten inches with a rope
about his neck.'

Hugh did not wait to hear the coarse and
brutal laugh with which the hardened wretch
ended his speech, but following his directions
soon came to the door of the cell which he
had designated, and which was situated in
quite another quarter of the prison.