University of Virginia Library

10. CHAPTER X.

—Talmud.

Although the Hermit approved of the scruples
of Agnes on the subject of deception, and
encouraged her to persevere, on all occasions,
in a system of strict veracity, yet the moral
code which he prescribed for himself was not
quite so rigid. Injurious or even unnecessary
untruths he detested. Such, he conceived, could
never come but from a corrupt source. But he
had great knowledge of human nature—of its
condition in this life—its liability to be affected
by circumstances which it cannot control, and
which frequently change its position in respect
to abstract morality, rendering the obligations
of the latter more or less incumbent, according
to events and situations. He had often been
witness of alternatives which left only a choice
of crimes. To choose the least was assuredly
then the duty, and he who did so was, in his
opinion, entitled to praise instead of censure.

“To destroy the life of another in self-defence,”
he reasoned, “has never been considered

immoral. Neither is it thought immoral
to break a promise or even an oath
which is enforced by the fear of violence. How
then can it be criminal to dissuade a ruffian
from the commission of murder by communicating
to him information which is known to
be untrue? What is, in most other cases, a
crime, becomes here a virtue. It is used as an
instrument of good; and to forbear the use of it,
when it is found that no other instrument will
answer the purpose, is to omit doing the good,
and to participate in the enormous guilt which
the omission permits to take place.”

If such were the Hermit's views, why did he
not counsel Agnes to save her father by deceiving
Butler? His motives were various. Truth
is, at all times beautiful, and rarely indeed, is
a breach of it commendable. To accustom
young and ingenuous minds, therefore, to reverence
it at all times, and to ward off from their
experience, as much as possible, any occurrence
that might justify deception, is to consult their
welfare by strengthening their integrity. For
this reason, the Hermit did not wish Agnes to
diverge from the direct line of truth even for a
good purpose, when that purpose might be
otherwise obtained, which he believed it might
by his own agency. Besides, he was a believer
in the doctrine of the impulses of conscience

being the criterion of good or evil actions.
The scruples of Agnes, proved that in practising
the proposed deception, she would have
acted against the dictates of her conscience,
and, therefore, in his view, would have been
criminal. Should he find deception to be necessary
to save Mr. Norwood, he had no scruples
against using it himself. In such a case he
would experience no compunction, while he
would save a young female whom he esteemed,
from doing what might afterwards inflict upon
her the pangs of remorse. In short, whether
the Hermit's reasoning on this subject was right
or wrong, it will be admitted that his intentions
and conduct were benevolent. He had in view
two schemes for the delivery of Mr. Norwood.
The first was to use an agent whom he could
instruct in a certain stratagem which might effect
the purpose, and thereby obviate the necessity
of himself appearing on the scene and
deceiving Butler in relation to Agnes; an alternative
which he wished to avoid, but if found
necessary, he was resolved to adopt.

On leaving Agnes he proceeded to the residence
of a young man named Joseph Jennings.
Joseph, though rugged in his manners, possessed
a warm heart, and was devotedly, or rather
superstitiously, attached to Mr. Norwood,
whose clerical character he esteemed as the perfection

of human excellence, and whose abduction
he conceived to be a sacrilegious crime
that could not fail to be visited by the vengeance
of Heaven. Joseph was stout, active and fearless.
From his earliest youth he had been a
hunter of the wild beasts of the forest, and was,
in consequence, acquainted with every hill and
valley, defile and cavern, river, swamp and lake,
in the whole of the broad region that lies between
the two great branches of the Susquehanna.
He possessed also that quick and
shrewd conception, which, when found among
the uneducated classes of mankind, is more observable,
perhaps because less expected, than
when found among those who have had better
opportunities of mental cultivation and intellectual
improvement.

It was with the aid of this youth that the
Hermit proposed to effect the deliverance of
Mr. Norwood; and he found him a ready and
zealous auxiliary in the enterprise. He accompanied
him to a cavern about ten miles distant
from the residence of the sachem Aranooko, in
the neighbourhood of which Mr. Norwood was
confined under the immediate surveillance of
Butler himself. From this cavern, Joseph proceeded
alone on the enterprise. He had received
instructions from the Hermit in relation
to the measures he should adopt. He pushed

forward boldly with a resolution to act the royalist
to the heart's content of the tories, who
had on the detection of their conspiracy, fled, in
great numbers, from the Wyoming settlements,
to the country occupied by the Mohawks, near
the chief village of which they had formed an
encampment. Joseph entered this encampment
singing, at the top of his lungs, “God save the
king.” His hunting pursuits, by keeping him
at a distance from society, had prevented his
political predilections, which were decidedly
whig, from being generally known. It was,
therefore, not doubted but that he was sincere
in his present manifestations of loyalty; and
that, as he now pretended, he had fled from the
threats of the Wyoming whigs, to seek shelter
among men whose sentiments were more in
accordance with his own. He was soon introduced
to Butler, furnished with arms at the
expense of king George, and enrolled among
the faithful defenders of his majesty's crown
and government.

Joseph knew the value of time, and was no
laggard on an errand of importance. He soon
discovered the tent in which Mr. Norwood
was confined. He had some slight acquaintance
with the sentinel placed over the reverend
captive for that evening. It was late in the
evening when Joseph approached this sentinel

in a seemingly careless manner, with a flask of
rum in his hand. He tipt him a jovial wink,
and offered to treat him. Good humour is always
infectious, especially when good fare is
offered with it. Joseph's was at this time irresistible
to the sentinel, who willingly pledged
him in a bumper, which was soon repeated;
and Joseph seated himself on a log beside his
sociable companion and began to talk of the
times.

“When do you think, Ephraim,” said he,
“we shall have to fight the whigs? I guess
when we muster our forces, Indians and all,
they wont stand us long.”

“The time of marching will be fixed to-morrow,”
said Ephraim.

“Who fixes it?” inquired Joseph.

“The Indian chiefs are to hold a council for
the purpose,” replied Ephraim, “and our
leaders are to assist at their deliberations.”
Another glass, drank to the success of their enterprise,
followed this information.

“How does the old preacher stand his confinement?”
asked Joseph.

“He seems patient enough under it,” answered
Ephraim.

“Is he well treated?” inquired Joseph.

“Pretty well as yet,” was the reply. “But
he is not likely to be much longer indulged as

he has been. Butler and he have had a violent
quarrel to-day.”

“How?—but no matter,” said Joseph. “It
is none of our concern, you know. Here
Ephraim, another glass to the success of the
right side. This empties the flask.”

“The more's the pity,” said Ephraim,
again partaking of Joseph's spiritual kindness,
the effects of which on his intellects had now
become visible.

“Did you hear nothing of the cause of their
dispute?” asked Joseph. “Cause!—hic—darn
the cause! Guess it was politics—Care nothing
about it—hic-up—darn this sentry duty—curse
the rebels! hic—they give so much trouble—
hic-up.”

Joseph, who perceived that his friend, whose
notions of military discipline were not very orthodox,
had got into the delectable care-for-nobody
state which suited his design, proposed
to relieve him for a short time of his irksome
duty, by assuming it in his stead.

“If Butler or Bateman—hic-up—finds that
I have left my post—hic”—muttered Ephraim.
But without finishing the sentence, his ideas
took another turn, and he exclaimed, “Darn
them, what care I for them. I'm as good a
man as any of them. I am for king George—
hic-up! Guess I'll have a frolic. Some of the

boys are carousing in Josh. Juggles's tent!
Keep my post for half an hour—bravo! darn it
—now for spree! hic-up!” And away Ephraim
staggered in pursuit of jollity and rum, leaving
Joseph in possession of the premises.

Joseph's difficulty, however, was not yet
over. The tent contained more inmates than
Mr. Norwood. Butler himself and two or three
other royalists were it inhabitants. It is true,
from the lateness of the hour, eleven o'clock
at night, the presumption was that they were
asleep; but that presumption was the same in
regard to Mr. Norwood. Besides, Joseph
knew not which bed was occupied by the latter
gentleman, and he might awake some other
person in his stead. He had a bold heart,
however, and he resolved to make an effort to
effect his design, trusting to some favourable
circumstance, and his own dexterity for success.
He cautiously entered the tent, and perceived
by means of a dim lamp that flickered in one
corner, three beds spread on the floor, two of
which apparently contained more than one individual.
In the third which was the farthest
from the entrance, he conjectured there was
but one person, whom from the appearance of
an article of dress which lay upon it, he believed
to be the object of his solicitude. Joseph,
while he supplied Ephraim so liberally with

the rum, had taken care to use it very sparingly
himself, so that he was in possession of all his
faculties, with perhaps a little elevation of
courage suited to the occasion.

He approached the bed which he believed
to contain Mr. Norwood; but he was mistaken.
It contained Butler himself, who was in a sound
sleep. He examined the other dormitories,
but was greatly chagrined to find that the object
of his search was in neither of them. He
was retiring very reluctantly and with much
mortification, when he heard a cough which he
thought was familiar to his ear, and perceived
the movement of a curtain which he had before
mistaken for part of the enclosure of the tent.
He was also agreeably surprised at seeing the
curtain drawn aside, and the well-known countenance
of his reverend friend looking at him.
He hastily motioned to Mr. Norwood to preserve
silence, and to follow him. Mr. Norwood
knew Joseph well, and instantly comprehended
his intention.

“This is a providential interference”—
thought he—“I will avail myself of it.”

He beckoned to Joseph that he understood
him and would follow. Joseph immediately
withdrew, and, in a few minutes Mr. Norwood
joined him outside of the tent; a few more
carried them into a part of the woods which

effectually secured them from detection.—
Through the intricacies of the forest, there
could not be a better guide than Joseph, and
early the next morning he conducted his venerable
protegee into the cavern where he had
the day previous left the Hermit of the woods.
In three or four days more, Mr. Norwood received
the embraces of his pious and affectionate
daughter, and the heart-felt congratulations
of all the people of Wyoming.