This was kind of Uncle Enos, and I told him so when an hour later he appeared, dressed in his best, his trunk having arrived the evening before.

“Yes, Roger, I’d rather do it than sit twirling my thumbs, a-waiting for you to come back,” said he.  “I used to do such work years ago, before I shipped on the Anna Siegel, and to do it again will make me feel like a boy once more.  But come; let’s go to mess and then hoist anchor and away.”

A few minutes later we were at breakfast.  Then I put on my good clothes and brought around the horse and carriage, for the Widow Canby insisted upon driving us down to Newville by way of Darbyville just to show folks, as she said, that she had not lost confidence in me.

Kate was in a flutter of excitement.  She had wished to see my father every day since he had been taken away.  As for myself, I was fully as impatient.  My father was very dear to me, and every time I thought of him I prayed that God would place it within my power to clear his name from the stain that now rested upon him.

We reached the station in Newville five minutes before train time.  My uncle procured our tickets and also checked the basket of delicacies the Widow Canby had prepared.

“Remember me to Mr. Strong,” said the widow, as we boarded the train.  “Tell him I don’t believe he’s guilty, and perhaps other people in Darbyville won’t think so either before long.”

A moment later and we were off.  Kate and Uncle Enos occupied one seat, and I sat directly behind them.  A ride of an hour followed, and finally, after crossing a number of other railroads, we rolled into a brick station, and the conductor sang out:—­

“Trenton!”

It was eleven o’clock when we crossed the wooden foot-bridge of the station and emerged upon the street.

“We’ll go to the prison at once,” said my uncle.  “Perhaps it isn’t ‘visiting day,’ as they call it, but I reckon I can fix it.  Sailors on shore have special privileges,” he added with a laugh.

“Which way is it?” asked Kate.

“I don’t know.  We’ll take a carriage and trust to the driver.”

He called a coach, and soon we were rolling off.

Finally the coach stopped, and the driver sprang from his box.

“Here you are, sir,” he said, as he opened the door.

I looked up at the big stone buildings before us.  My father was behind those walls.  I glanced at Kate.  The poor girl was in tears.

“You had better stay on board here till I go in and take soundings,” said Captain Enos.  “I won’t be gone long.”

Jumping to the pavement, he walked up to the big open door and entered.

“What a dreadful place!” said my sister, as she strained her eyes to catch sight of some prisoner.

My uncle was gone not over ten minutes, yet the wait seemed an age.  He returned with a brightened face.

“I had hard work to get permission, but we are to have half an hour’s talk with your father under the supervision of a deputy,” he explained.