The incident to which she referred had not been unregarded by the individual she addressed, and while she spoke, his looks assumed a meditative expression, and he replied as in soliloquy, and in broken sentences:-- "Could I pass to the jail unperceived--gain admittance--then--but who would grapple with the jailer--how manage that?--let me see--but no--no--that is impossible!" "What is impossible?--nothing is impossible in this work, if you will but try. Do not hesitate, dear uncle--it will look easier if you will reflect upon it. You will see many ways of bringing it about. You can get aid if you want it. There's the pedler, who is quite willing, and Chub--Chub will do much, if you can only find him out." The landlord smiled as she named these two accessaries "Bunce--why, what could the fellow do?--he's not the man for such service; now Chub might be of value, if he'd only follow orders: but that he won't do. I don't see how we're to work it, Lucy--it looks more difficult the more I think on it." "Oh, if it's only difficult--if it's not impossible--it will be done. Do not shrink back, uncle; do not scruple. The youth has done you no wrong--you have done him much. You have brought him where he is, he would have been safe otherwise You must save him. Save him, uncle--and hear me as I promise. You may then do with me as you please. From that moment I am your slave, and then, if it must be so--if you will then require it, I am willing then to become _his_ slave too--him whom you have served so faithfully and so unhappily for so long a season." "Of whom speak you?" "Guy Rivers! yes--I shall then obey you, though the funeral come with the bridal." "Lucy!" "It is true. I hope not to survive it. It will be a worse destiny to me than even the felon death to the youth whom I would save. Do with me as you please then, but let him not perish. Rescue him from the doom you have brought upon him--and oh, my uncle, in that other world--if there we meet--the one good deed shall atone, in the thought of my poor father, for the other most dreadful sacrifice to which his daughter now resigns herself." The stern man was touched. He trembled, and his lips quivered convulsively as he took her hand into his own. Recovering himself, in a firm tone, as solemn as that which she had preserved throughout the dialogue, he replied-- "Hear me, Lucy, and believe what I assure you. I _will_ try to save this youth. I will do what I can, my poor child, to redeem the trust of your father. I have been no father to you heretofore, not much of one, at least, but it is not too late, and I will atone. I will do my best for Colleton--the thing is full of difficulty and danger, but I will try to save him. All this, however, must be unknown--not a word to anybody; and Rivers must not see you happy, or he will suspect. Better not be seen--still keep to your chamber, and rest assured that all will be done, in my power, for the rescue of the youth."