d,
making a knot about the wire, dashed off at a bound; the iron snapped
behind; his triumphant laugh pealed yet on the twilight, when the cries
of his pursuers rang over the fields of snow. They were aroused; he was
fleetly mounted, but they came behind in sledges.

The night closed over the road as he caught the wizard bells. The
moonlight turned the peaks to fire. The dark firs shook down their
burdens of snow. There were cries of wild beasts from the ravines below.
The post-houses were red with firelight. The steed floundered through
the snow-drifts driven by blow and halloo. It was a fearful ride upon
the high Alps; the sublimity of nature bowed down to the mystery of
crime!

Bright noon, on the third day succeeding, saw the fugitive emerge from
the railway station at Dieppe. He had escaped the Swiss frontier with
his life, but had failed to make sure that escape by reaching the harbor
at the appointed time. Broken in spirit, grown old already, he faltered
toward the town, and, stopping on the fosse-bridge, looked sorrowfully
across the shipping in the dock. Something caught his regard amid the
cloud of tri-color; he looked again, shading his eye with a tremulous
palm. There could not be a doubt--it was the Confederate standard--the
Stars and Bars.

The Planter had been delayed; she waited with steam up and an expectant
crew; her slender masts leaned against the sky; her anchor was lifted; a
knot of idlers watched her from the quay.

In a moment Mr. Plade was on board. He asked for the commander, and a
short, gristly, sunburnt personage being indicated, he introduced
himself with that plausible speech which had wooed so many to their
fall.

"I am a Charlestonian," said Plade; "a Yankee insulted me at the Grand
Hotel; we met in the Bois de Boulogne, and I ran him through the body.
His friends in Paris conspire against my life. I ask to save it now,
only to die on your deck, that it may be worth something to my country."

They went below, and the privateer put the applicant through a rigid
examination.

"This vessel must get to sea to night," he said. "I will not hazard
trouble with the French authorities by keeping you here. Spend the
afternoon ashore; we sail at eleven o'clock precisely; if at that time
you come aboard, I will take you."

Plade protested his gratitude, but the skipper motioned him to peace.

"You seem to be a gentleman," he added; "if I find you so, you shall be
my purser. But, hark!" h