ers are attacked," exclaimed Bevan, in surprise; "I wonder
who by."

He looked round for a reply, but only saw the crouching figure of Tolly
beside him.

"Where's Brixton?" he asked.

"Bolted into the hut," answered the boy.

"Betty," exclaimed Tom, springing into the little parlour or hall, where
he found the poor girl on her knees, "you are safe now. I heard the
voice of Gashford, and the Indians are flying. But I too must fly. I
am guilty, as I have said, but my crime is not worthy of death, yet
death is the award, and, God knows, I am not fit to die. Once more--
farewell!"

He spoke rapidly, and was turning to go without even venturing to look
at the girl, when she said--

"Whatever your crime may be, remember that there is a Saviour from sin.
Stay! You cannot leap the creek, and, even if you did, you would be
caught, for I hear voices near us. Come with me."

She spoke in a tone of decision that compelled obedience. Lifting a
trap-door in the floor she bade her lover descend. He did so, and found
himself in a cellar half full of lumber and with several casks ranged
round the walls. The girl followed, removed one of the casks, and
disclosed a hole behind it.

"It is small," she said, quickly, "but you will be able to force
yourself through. Inside it enlarges at once to a low tunnel, along
which you will creep for a hundred yards, when you will reach open air
in a dark, rocky dell, close to the edge of the precipice above the
river. Descend to its bed, and, when free, use your freedom to escape
from death--but much more, to escape from sin. Go quickly!"

Tom Brixton would fain have delayed to seize and kiss his preserver's
hand, but the sound of voices overhead warned him to make haste.
Without a word he dropped on hands and knees and thrust himself through
the aperture. Betty replaced the cask, returned to the upper room, and
closed the trap-door just a few minutes before her father ushered
Gashford and his party into the hut.

CHAPTER FIVE.

When our hero found himself in a hole, pitch dark and barely large
enough to permit of his creeping on hands and knees, he felt a sudden
sensation of fear--of undefinable dread--come over him, such as one
might be supposed to experience on awaking to the discovery that he had
been buried alive. His first impulse was to shout for deliverance, but
his manhood returned to him, and he restrained himself.

Groping his way cautiously along the passa