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"A Christian, too, I hope," answered Levin, forcing his nag up the road. "Then thee is better than a youth in this dwelling we next pass," the Quaker said, pointing to a brick house on the left; "for there lived a judge whose son bucked a poor negro fiddler in his father's cellar, and delivered him to Derrick Molleston to be sold in slavery.
"I love him," muttered Sorden, admiringly, "as I never loved A male," and collected his party. "Whitecar, you and your brother hold the back door with your staves. If it is forced, Miles Tindel " "Tackle 'em, Cap'n Van!" "Will throw his red-pepper dust into the eyes of any that come out." "Oh, tackle 'em, Cap'n Van!" "Derrick Molleston!" "See me, O see me!" the powerful negro muttered.
He twisted, by main strength, a panel out of the palings near the house, and led the way to the great front door. A dozen desperate hands seized the heavy panel and ran with it. The door flew open, but at that moment every light in Cowgill House went out. "Dar's ghosts in dar," the hoarse voice of Derrick Molleston was heard to say, and the negro element stopped and shrank. "Tindel, your torch!"
The fire of the burning jail lighted their return into the outskirts of Dover and to the gallows' hill, where stood the scaffold, split with the lightning from cross-beam to the death-trap. As they halted opposite it to rest, a horse and rider came stumbling past, and Molleston, dropping his burden, shouted: "Bill Greenley, dat's our hoss. We want it."
Ho, ho! dey set' em free and we'll steal' em back! Ole Derrick Molleston will never be out of pork an' money!" "Politely, gentlemen," said the individual with the shackle. "Have you heard of the incendiary proclamation issued in Boston by David Walker, telling all slaves that it is their religious duty to rise?" "Yes, and rise they will, but to what end? It will be a big scare, but no war.
Custis exclaimed; "the jail burned, the lightning appalling, and I thought I heard firearms, too." Judge Custis heard Clayton say, as he entered the room: "So ole Derrick Molleston, Aunt Braner, asked you about my dinner, did he? And it's Bill Greenley that burned the jail? Goy! And the black people licked the kidnappers at Cowgill House?"
Van Dorn made several efforts to talk, and often coughed painfully, and finally, as they reached a lane gate, he articulated: "The Chancellor's?" "Yes, dis is it," Derrick Molleston said. "See me, Cap'n Van. I's all heah." As they advanced up a shady lane, fire from somewhere began to make a certain illumination in spite of the loud storm. "It's Bill Greenley.
"Derrick Molleston?" spoke Van Dorn. "See me! see me!" "Get down and ride with me. Levin, are you awake?" "Yes, Captain." "Take this man's horse and ride him. John Sorden is ahead. It will stretch your chilled limbs." "May I go with him?" asked Owen Daw, in his Celtic accent, quite cringing now. "Not unless he wants you." "Come, then," Levin obligingly said.
Derrick Molleston, regretting the loss of his loping horse, bore out to the wagon an object he had found striving to escape from the veranda at the kitchen side, though with a gag in his mouth, and a skewer between his elbows and his back. "See me, see me!" the negro kidnapper spoke, hoarsely. "He's mine an' Devil Jim Clark's. I tuk him." "Why, it's Buck Ransom," Sorden said.
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