The soldier, in spite of his conviction of the villainy of the other, was touched at the taunt, and hastened to defend himself.

“It is false, Master Spikeman,” he cried.  “If thou wert truly a friend, wherefore advise me to break jail, and thus expose myself to be hunted as a malefactor, when I had but to wait till morning for deliverance?”

“It is much, Philip Joy, for one in my condition to condescend to explain, especially after thy rudeness of speech; yet will I do it, that no fancied cause may be left for thy base suspicions.  Shortly, then, I knew not of Gov.  Winthrop’s intention, for when I did entreat him in thy behalf, he spake in such ambiguous phrase as effectually to cloak his thoughts.  I doubt not, now, that it was to make the surprise the more agreeable.”

This was said with such an appearance of innocence, that the simplicity of the soldier was confounded, and he began to doubt more and more the truth of his suspicions.  But the communication of Prudence rankled in his mind, and though disposed to acquit the Assistant of treachery against himself, he could not forgive the treatment of the girl.  He did not doubt her word, and yet desired to hear the Assistant’s excuse, if he had any.  He shrunk from the subject, and yet was drawn to it, like a moth fascinated by a light.

“There is another thing I like not,” he said, hesitatingly.

“And pray, what may thy wisdom have discovered now?”

“That it is not becoming in a grave magistrate to try to cozen servant girls,” burst from the soldier.

“Has Prudence—?” but here the Assistant, sensible that he had already said too much, suddenly checked himself, while his sallow cheek looked still more yellow.  But the escape of the girl’s name, even without the embarrassment, was a confession of guilt to the soldier, who, with rising passion, exclaimed—­

“Away, or I shall be tempted to do that whereof I may repent.”

Spikeman marked his agitation, and hesitated whether to come to an open breach, or continue his system of deception.  The craft of his nature preponderated, and he determined to adopt the latter course.

“Gently, Philip,” he said.  “Thy prison hath strangely affected thee; but because I pity, I will not be angry.  At least let me finish the sentence which I begun.  I did desire to know whether Prudence, whom, that thou dost affect, I have for some time known, (nay, never blush; I have been young myself,) whether Prudence, I say, gained access to thy prison to tell thee of my exertions in thy behalf?”

“Thou exert thyself for me!  Go to, thou wert more busy for thyself.”

“I understand thee not; yet hearken, for the whole truth must be revealed.  I say that I have done all that man could do, and as the event proves, not in vain.  As for Prudence, I will confess to one impropriety, if it be thy pleasure to call it so, though I meant it not, and whereof thou art in some sense the cause.  Knowing thy regard for her, I did speak one day of my hopes for thee, whereat the tears did stand in her eyes, and I was so moved thereat, that I did salute her cheek, but only as a father might caress a child.”