son, no doubt, you expected to see. But I owe you a heavy debt, and I have come to pay it, by setting you free." "The Lord's hand is in it," cried Uncle Lawrence, lifting up his eyes reverently. "Did I not say, 'trust in the Lord,' Major?" CHAPTER XLII, THE RELEASE. Oh! give me liberty.-Dryden. Thus doth the ever-changing course of things "Tis not the many oaths, that make the truth; But the plain single vow, that is vow'd true.-Shakspeare. CAPTAIN POWELL was one of those who had been a listener at Aylesford's bedside, during the confession of the latter. Arriving in New York, after the loss of his ship, without employment, or the chance of any, he had volunteered on the expedition against the Neck, and hence his presence. He it was, also, who had been commissioned by the chaplain to quiet Aylesford, by carrying a message to the American camp. Accordingly, Captain Powell had left the room, but with other ulterior designs. He had already ascertained that. Major Gordon had been made prisoner, and having heard his name mentioned by Aylesford more than once, a suspicion of the truth had flashed upon him. Indeed, often since his rescue from the wreck, had he speculated on an attachment springing up between our hero and Kate; for though he had seen little of the officer, he had observed enough, during those hours of terrible peril, to be con vinced that he and Miss Aylesford were eminently fitted for each other. He resolved, accordingly, to see Major Gordon, in this crisis, satisfied, that if it was as he suspected, the best course would be to secretly liberate the prisoner. "This is my friend," said our hero, turning to Uncle Lawrence, on observing that Captain Powell seemed surprised at not finding him alone. "He has, this day, saved my life, and whatever debt you may think you owe to me, I transfer to him." The captain looked at Uncle Lawrence, at these words, with increased interest. But he was a judge of character, and the simple dignity with which the veteran rose and returned the salutation of the visitor, at once convinced the latter that the old man was no common person. The delicate subject, however, on which he had come to see Major Gordon, made him hesitate. Our hero, discovering this from his manner, said, "You can speak, Captain, before Mr. Herman, as frankly as if he was myself." Still, Captain Powell knew not how to open his mission, and paused in embarrassment. At last he bethought him to mention the fact, that "a young gentleman, named Aylesford, had come into camp desperately wounded, and was now at the point of death." The surprise of Major Gordon, the horror of Uncle Lawrence, and the interest of both, produced immediately a torrent of questions, which led the conversation to the point that the visitor desired. We will not attempt to paint the excitement of the hearers, when Captain Powell informed them that Kate was in the hands of Arrison. The emotion of Uncle Lawrence was almost as great as that of Major Gordon. The former, in fact, was more thoroughly acquainted with the refugee's character, and had consequently a keener sense, if possible, of Kate's peril. It was fortunate it was so: for tunate that the Major could scarcely believe in depravity so great as Arrison's; for otherwise he must have gone mad with suspense. As it was, he could not keep still for an instant. He had started to his feet again, on the first intimation of Kate's danger; and had heard the conclusion of the narrative, striding up and down the narrow apartment, like a chafed lion in a cage. "Oh! if I had been there, instead of here," he cried, clenching his hands. "Just heaven! such villainy." "Calm yourself, my dear Major," answered Captain Powell. "You will be overheard." For this, as well as the former conversation between the prisoners, had been conducted in low tones, to prevent the other occupants of the building from hearing, whereas the Major, under the excitement of his feelings, had uttered these exclamations aloud. "Calm yourself," continued Captain Powell. "It is to set you free, remember, that I am here." The words were scarcely uttered before Major Gordon stopped in his walk, and seizing the speaker's hand, wrung it with energetic gratitude. His heart, however, was too full to allow him utterance. "I need not say," resumed Captain Powell, is not a minute to be lost." "that there But suddenly a shade of deep concern extinguished the light in Major Gordon's countenance. For the instant he had forgotten his fellow prisoner. But it had been only for an instant. Much as he desired freedom, in order to rescue Kate, or die in the attempt, he could not abandon Uncle Lawrence. He paused, and fixed his eyes on the old man, who stood silent and motionless, though every feature of his face was working with intense emotion; emotion not on his own account; not because the Major was to be freed, and himself remain a prisoner, but because his darling was in the hands of such a ruffian as Arrison. "I cannot go," said Major Gordon, turning frankly to Captain Powell, "at least alone. My friend must accompany me. He has a family, and his life is precious to them; let him be released in my stead.” Captain Powell looked perplexed. But Uncle Lawrence spoke up. "No," said he, addressing Captain Powell, "I am an old man, and my time is nearly out, while the Major is young, and can yet be of service to his country." "But the young lady, consider her, sir," urged Captain Powell, speaking to Major Gordon. "Time is precious, and succor ought to be sent at once. For God's sake, Major, don't stand on scruples, which would honor you at another time, but are only periling Miss Aylesford's life at this crisis." A sharp pang of agony shot visibly across his hearer's face. But the Major was inexorable. He resembled Uncle Lawrence, indeed, in the inflexibility with which he walked in the path of duty, when that duty became plain. No martyr, condemned to pass barefoot over burning ploughshares, could have executed his task more unflinchingly. "Mr. Herman," he replied, "is the more suitable person then to be released, for he knows every acre of the forests about Sweetwater; and can do more, in an hour, in tracking these ruffians to their den, than I could in a day.” Captain Powell was evidently struck with this remark. He looked inquiringly at Uncle Lawrence, feeling, by that instinct which is called insight into character, that the veteran would speak the truth in reply, irrespective of conventional reserve on the one hand, or of self-interest on the other. "I'll not deny," said the patriarch, mildly, "but what the Major speaks truth, in that partic'lar. I've hunted a'most every inch of the woods, for a dozen miles about, on every side, these forty years nigh. And I'd give," he added, earnestly, "half of the years I may have to live, if the Lord allowed me the right to do it, that I might be free. I'd burn the rascal out, like a fox from his hole, I'll warrant, afore to-morrow's sun was many hours high.' Captain Powell looked from one to the other, in perplexity, for a full minute, before he spoke again. At last he said, with sudden impulse, "You shall both be free. Nay! no thanks," he continued, as the Major sprang forward again, and grasped his hand, "but listen. I have a pass for the Major. You, my venerable sir, are luckily about my height. You must exchange hats and coats with me," removing the articles as he spoke, and proffering them to Uncle Lawrence. "Go boldly out, for I left the pass with the sentinel, as if you were myself. The breeze was beginning to blow freely up the river, when I came in. You'll find a boat, with her sail ready, lying near the outside of the camp. The sentinel there will let you pass, on giving the watchword, 'loyalty.' Make the best of your way, in God's name, up the stream; and may success crown your efforts!" He pressed the hands of both his hearers, as he ceased speaking, and the change of garments having been effected, fairly pushed them out of the place, first giving the lantern in charge to Uncle Lawrence, and whispering, as a parting admonition, "I brought it in with me, and they'll naturally expect to see me carry it out-be sure to lose not a minute, for the trick must soon be found out." We will not detain the reader with the obstacles which the fugitives met on their way to the boat. To avoid being seen they were forced to skulk along in the shadows; but twice even this failed; though fortunately the knowledge of the pass-word secured their safety. At last they reached the skiff, and were almost instantly sweeping up |