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Cooper, James Fenimore, 1789-1851

"The Pilot"

I can see into a mystery that is
as deep as a well, to-night. Your companions are hirelings; perhaps your
shipmates; or men to pilot you on this expedition!"
"One is my shipmate, and the other is our pilot," said Manual, with more
truth than usual.
"You are well provided. One thing more, and I shall become mute in my
turn. Does she whom you seek lie in this house?"
"She does not; she lies but a short distance from this place; and I
should be a happy fellow could I but once more put foot----"
"Eyes on her. Now listen, and you shall have your wish. You possess the
ability to march yet, which, considering the lateness of the hour, is no
trifling privilege; open that window--is it possible to descend from
it?"
Manual eagerly complied, but he turned from the place in disappointment.
"It would be certain death to attempt the leap. The devil only could
escape from it."
"So I should think," returned Borroughcliffe, dryly. "You must be
content to pass for that respectable gentleman for the rest of your
days, in St. Ruth's Abbey. For through that identical hole must you wing
your flight on the pinions of love."
"But how! The thing is impossible."
"In imagination only. There is some stir, a good deal of foolish
apprehension, and a great excess of idle curiosity, among certain of
the tenants of this house, on your account. They fear the rebels, who,
we all know, have not soldiers enough to do their work neatly at home,
and who, of course, would never think of sending any here.


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