[figure description] Page 169.[end figure description]

The city jail, as has been described, stood near the
fort, and fronting toward the Hudson, at a point near
the confluence of that stream with the East river.
A little to the north, on the same street, was the governor's
house, a large but in no way ostentatious
building, and immediately adjacent, but fronting in
another direction, was the old Dutch Church. A narrow
court-yard intervened between the jail and the
street, and a long stoop, the invariable accompaniment
of Dutch buildings, extended the whole width of the
house. Upon this stoop, on the evening which succeeded
to that melancholy day, the events of which
have just been related, sat Hugh Gore, wrapt in no
unpleasing contemplations. The sun had gone down;
the lingering twilight was growing gradually less;
and the light sea-breeze, setting landward, was lifting
the shaggy locks of the jailer, as gently as if they
had been the curls of cradled innocence. Musing
deeply and alone, and watching with complacent
countenance the thin wreaths which curled slowly
upwards from his pipe, he was aroused from his

[figure description] Page 170.[end figure description]

reverie by the heavy tread of some one passing in the
street. On looking up, he saw a man clad in a thin
spencer and wide-legged trowsers, and wearing the
glazed tarpaulin which then as now was a distinctive
badge of the fraternity of sailors. He had passed
Hugh apparently without noticing him, but turning
suddenly back, and exhibiting by the movement the
neck of a glass bottle protruding from his outer pocket,
he touched his hat civilly and inquired the way to a
well-known dram-shop in the neighborhood.

“Huyck's?” said Hugh, good-naturedly; “why, you
must be a stranger here if you don't know where
Huycks' is, and you a sailor, too!”

“I am,” replied the other, again touching his hat,
“and have just come from Boston in the Dolly—yonder
she lies, with the blue bunting. Will your honor
please to tell me—”

“Oh yes,” said Hugh, giving the desired direction—
“but don't go and spend all your money like a fool.”

The sailor smiled, and thanking his informant
passed on, and Gore, wrapt in his peculiar reflections,
had quite forgotten the incident when, some ten minutes
afterwards, it was recalled to his mind by a
return of the stranger. He seemed now slightly
affected by the atmosphere of Mynheer Huyck's tap-room,
and disposed to be social and communicative;
and, after bandying merry phrases with Hugh for a

[figure description] Page 171.[end figure description]

few minutes, he produced his bottle and invited his
companion to drink. The jailer sniffed daintily at the
cork, prepared to utter a sneer at the vile whiskey,
or at some compound still viler, though bearing a
more ambitious name, when he became conscious that
his olfactories were regaled with the fumes of a liquor,
rare and costly at that period in the province, and
highly prized by the epicurean race.

“The de'il,” he exclaimed, applying his huge nose
again and again to the mouth of the bottle; “is it
possible that Huyck sells genuine Jamaica, and that
sailors buy it? Walk up, Mr. Jack Tar, walk up,
and take a seat, while I get some cups, and we'll have
a taste of its quality.”

The sailor needed no second bidding, and taking a
seat on the stoop, awaited the return of the other
from within, who soon made his appearance with some
drinking utensils, and then led the way to a part of
the piazza less exposed to view from the street, for he
was in no way desirous of attracting any additional
guests to so rare a banquet. Smacking his lips over
his cup, he needed but little urging to renew again and
again the delicious potation. The sailor was exceedingly
merry, and had many a jovial tale to tell,
which, whatever their real merits, grew more and
more amusing to his auditor; who finally swore, upon
the winding up of a long story about crossing the line,

[figure description] Page 172.[end figure description]

and being shaved by father Neptune with an iron
hoop, that his particular friend Mr. Jack Tar was the
very pink of sailors, and he really hoped, upon his
soul and body, that he never should be called upon to
do any little unpleasant jobs in the way of stringing
up or cutting down so choice a fellow.

“Stringing up and cutting down,” repeated the
sailor, who despite his seemingly large draughts preserved
a tolerable appearance of sobriety—“what do
you mean by that, Mr. Gore?”

“I mean,” replied Hugh, with an involuntary
twinkle of his eye, “that I am grand Bashaw here,
with nine tails—there they hang, up there,” pointing
to a huge instrument of flagellation, reposing above
their heads—“and also, that I tend that guide-post to
the Future State out there,” pointing to the gallows,
which in the gloom of the evening loomed up to an
unusual altitude before them.

Hugh did not notice the shudder which shook for
a moment the frame of his companion, any more than
he had noticed the dozen discarded draughts which
the other had slyly spilled into the garden, over the
railing against which his chair was leaning.

“Oh, ho, you are the executioner then?” returned
the sailor; “probably you run up that Growsbeck
then, that was hung the other day, for treason.”

“No, sir,” replied Gore with a chuckle;—“he hain't

[figure description] Page 173.[end figure description]

been hung yet, Mr. Groesbeck hain't: I expect the
melancholy pleasure of turning him off the day after
to-morrow, at nine o'clock, and shall be very happy
of your presence on that occasion—a large company
expected—front seats reserved for the ladies;” and
Hugh laughed at his hideous joke.

“He's a desperate hard case, I suppose; I should
like wonderfully to see him—you don't know where
they keep him, I suppose?”

“Don't know?” returned Hugh; “maybe I don't—if
I don't know, who does?—that's it. See here, my salt-water
friend, do you see them winders there, with
fancy lattice work across them? well, that's the jail,
and in there's the onfortinet man; and in here,”
striking his gingling pocket with his hand—“in here
are the keys that keep him there.”

Mr. Gore's guest expressed no little surprise at
these pieces of information, and reiterating his desire
to see so awful a criminal, Hugh at length volunteered
to gratify his wishes and conduct him within. The
jailor's step as he rose for this purpose was by no
means steady, and Jed, for he, as may have been conjectured,
was the assumed sailor, seemed to be equally
under the effects of the bottle.

It was no easy matter for the inebriated man to apply
his ponderous key, and open the prison door, but
after much fumbling and muttering that difficult feat

[figure description] Page 174.[end figure description]

was accomplished, and the door being left slightly
ajar, the companions passed in. There was a principal
central room, which was usually occupied by
offenders of the lesser grades, and off this apartment
were several cells designed for such malefactors as
needed especial guarding. But as Gore had at this
time no other persons under his charge, and Rudolph's
appearance had excited no apprehensions of any very
desperate attempt at escape, he had allowed the prisoner
the benefit of the larger room; not however
without the precaution of chaining him by one foot to
a ring in the floor. This chain was secured by a
padlock, the key to which Hugh also carried in his
pocket.

“There he is—there he is,” exclaimed Gore,
speaking thickly, for the liquor was taking effect more
fully upon his brain; “look at him quick, Mr. Tar,
and then let's go back, for there'll be some one else
here to see him soon, I dare say, but nobody's to come
in to-night without the governor's orders, except
Dominie Megapolensis.”

So saying, the jailer took a seat near the door,
while Jed approached his friend, who was sitting on
a rude wooden chair, with his face turned to the wall,
and with his head resting upon his hands. There was
a dim light in the room, left rather by the stinted
grace of the keeper than as a matter of right.

[figure description] Page 175.[end figure description]

“See what luxuries he has,” muttered Hugh, with
his chin dropping upon his breast—“lights and a seat,
and a large room all to himself—'tisn't everybody gets
such treatment, and he wouldn't, you know, only his
time is short.”

The prisoner had turned partly around upon the
entrance of the visiters, but after a momentary glance
at them quietly resumed his former position. Jed
approached him slowly, talking meanwhile to the
keeper in his assumed manner, but as he came nearer
he contrived, parenthetically, to pronounce Rudolph's
name in his natural voice, and in a low tone. A quick
nervous motion of the prisoner ensued; he raised
his head slightly, and was about to speak, when his
friend's fingers rested upon his lips, and he remained
silent. But from that moment every faculty was alive.

“You've got him chained, eh?” said Jed; “that's
right—I see you know how to make sure of such
fellows; bolts, bars and chains—you understand it,
don't you, Mr. Gore?”

“Of course I do,” growled Hugh.

“And yet you are merciful too, considering,” said
Jed.

“Certainly,” said Gore—“see that chair, and
candle—and—and—cup of water.”

“Yes, certainly; but now it's my opinion, Mr. Jailer,
that that chain is a little too tight, and that it

[figure description] Page 176.[end figure description]

hurts the poor fellow's ankle: you don't want to keep
him in pain, I know; I'd jest shift it to t'other leg,
a ndmake it a trifle looser.”

There is said to be no safer or more acceptable flattery
than that which gives an individual credit for the
quality which of all others he most lacks, and it must
have been on this principle that Jed had attributed
the heavenly virtue of Mercy to his brutal companion.
Evidently flattered by the remark, the now stolid
keeper came forward and inquired of Rudolph if the
fetters were painful.

“He says that they hurt him,” replied Jed, hastening
to speak for the other, “and any one can see that it
is so; it will be but a moment's work to shift the
chain to the other leg.”

“Oh yes,” said Hugh, “I can do it in a twinkling,
but let me jes lock the door first, because a man in
his case gets dreadful desperate sometimes, and he
might make a rush, and get away from us, you know.”

“Oh, I'll see to that,” exclaimed Jed; and skipping
past the jailer he transferred the key from the outer
to the inner side, and, shutting the door, locked it, but
without removing the key.

Satisfied that all was now safe, and that his prisoner,
however daring, could do nothing against the combined
efforts of himself and the sailor, Gore stooped
and unlocked the chain—removed it from one leg of

[figure description] Page 177.[end figure description]

Rudolph, and was about transferring it to the other,
when he found himself suddenly lying upon his back,
with Jed astride of his body, and a strong hand at
his throat.

“If you speak you will die,” said Jed firmly—“if
you are quiet you shall not be harmed—do you understand?”

Purple with fright and suffocation, Hugh winked
in reply, for, pinioned and throttled as he was, it was
the only gesture he could make; and Jed, who had
not come unprepared for his work, produced some
stout cords and a gag, with which, in a few moments,
the helpless jailer was secured beyond the power of
speech or motion. The chain was next applied to
his huge leg and securely locked, and the young men,
trembling with intense excitement, were hastening
toward the door, when a loud knock without fell like
the knell of hope upon their ears.

“My dear,” screamed a shrill, angry, catamount
like voice through the key-hole, “are you inside there?
I want to know, for here is Dominie Megapolensis
waiting to see the poor young man that is to be hung.
My de-e-e-e-r!”

A growling, inarticulate noise issuing from the
widely distended jaws of the jailer, manifested his
attempt to reply to this invocation, and Jed, darting

[figure description] Page 178.[end figure description]

to his side with menacing gestures, crowded an ample
handkerchief into his gulf-like mouth.

“He must be in there,” continued the woman, apparently
addressing some one at her side, after waiting
in vain some moments for an answer; “he must be
there, for the key is in the door inside; the lazy fellow
has dropped asleep;” and this remark was followed
by another screaming call, and a rattling of the door
that might have awakened the seven sleepers of
Ephesus.

In an agony of suspense, breathless and motionless,
stood Jed and Rudolph, yet to the former returned
at length a portion of the coolness and equanimity
which had marked all his proceedings. Drawing
his friend aside, he said, “Our only hope is in instant
flight, for in three minutes this harridan will raise a
mob. Keep perfectly still, and be guided by me, and
if you get off, and we should be separated, remember
that my hunter stands saddled just outside the wall,
in the woods, about ten rods west of the centre gate—
take this tarpaulin and spencer—do as I do, and be
sure not to speak.”

So saying, Jed doffed his jacket, exhibiting another
exactly similar beneath it, and drew from his pocket a
crushed cap like the one which he wore. “We are
sailors,” he continued, “belonging to the Dolly, of and
from Boston. Come on and keep calm, and above all

[figure description] Page 179.[end figure description]

things, don't attempt to run, for the moonlight is like
noonday without, and we shall be distinctly seen.”

Resolving to be guided by one who had thus far
shown so much sagacity and prudence, Rudolph followed
his friend in silence to the door, which was still
rattling in the vigorous grasp of Mrs. Gore. Obeying
the gestures of Jed, he planted himself in a dark corner
adjacent, while the former proceeded to turn the key,
and confront the incensed matron whose voice was
still heard without, mingling with the clatter of the
shaken bars.

“Avast there, avast,” he said, “can't you wait till
the hatches are open, Mrs. Gore? There—come in
now, if you want to—it isn't everybody that is so
anxious to get in a place like this.”

“What tom-foolery is all this, I should like to know?”
said the vixen, bursting into the room, and followed
more leisurely by the venerable and quiet clergyman;
“what tom-foolery is this—and who are you—and
where is that idiot of a Hugh Gore?”

“Your worthy husband sits yonder, madam,” said
Jed, “a little unwell, I believe,” and the woman darted
to her partner's side, while Jed, followed by Rudolph,
stepped quickly out—and the clash of the closing
door, and the sound of the turning lock, mingled with
the shrill feminine scream that arose from within.

Previous section

Next section