Chapter 28

"She half-enclosed me in her arms,
She pressed me with a meek embrace;
And bending back her head, looked up
And gazed upon my face."

Coleridge.

I saw no one for the next two hours. A window of the parlour, where I was
permitted to remain, overlooked the _soi-disant_ park--or rather
_Manhattan_-disant--and it was not long before I caught a glimpse of my
mate and Neb, lying off and on, or blockading the jail, lest I should be
secretly carried to parts unknown, or some other great evil should
approach me from without. What these two honest and affectionate fellows
meant by thus maintaining their post, I did not know, it is true; but such
was my conjecture. At length Neb disappeared, and was absent an hour. When
he retained, he had a coil of rope over his shoulder, when the two took a
station at a safe distance from my prison, and began to measure off
fathoms, to cut, knot and splice. I was amused with their diligence, which
made no abatement until it was interrupted by myself. Of the manner in
which that was effected I shall have occasion to speak presently.

About two hours after I was left by Lucy and her father, a keeper came to
announce another visitor. I was expecting my own attorney or Mr. Harrison;
but the reader will judge of my surprise when Andrew Drewett entered the
room. He was accompanied by the jailer, who held a letter in his hand, and
who astounded me by saying--

"Captain Wallingford, I have instructions here to open the door for
you--bail has been entered."

The jailer disappeared.

"And this I owe to you, Mr. Drewett!"

"I wish I could say as much, with all my heart, my dear sir," Andrew
replied, taking my hand, and giving it a warm, cordial shake; "but it
would not be strictly true. After saving my life, I should not have
suffered you to lie in jail for want of so small a favour as giving bail
for your appearance in court, certainly; but would, and will, gladly be
your special bail, at the proper time. Let the credit fall, however, only
where it is due. Miss Hardinge asked me to obtain your release, and her
wishes are second only to my own gratitude."

This was said in a frank, manly manner; and I wondered I had never viewed
Andrew Drewett in a light so favourable before. He had improved in person,
bore himself like a gentleman I now thought, and was every way a pleasing,
well-mannered, well-dressed, and intelligent-looking young man. I could do
all justice to him but pardon him Lucy's preference.

"Lucy can never forget our childish intimacy," I said, a little confused.
"She left me, declaring an intention to do something of the sort; though I
confess I was not exactly prepared