he inner door to her own private chamber was barred. A slight
rustling was heard within, as they listened, as of one putting on
clothing.

"We have tracked the fox to his den," whispered Spikeman. "Open
instantly," he added, aloud, "or we will burst in the door."

"Who are ye," inquired a woman's voice, "who, in the dead of night,
assail the rest of innocent folk?"

"Open at once," cried Spikeman, impatiently, "or we will tear down the
house."

"I will not open," said the voice. "That were to assist you in your
lawless proceedings. I may be murdered, but will lend no aid to my
murderers."

"Silly woman," said the Assistant, who felt unwilling to resort to
violence with a woman, believing that his prey was perfectly secure
within--"silly woman, we are no murderers. I require thee, by
authority of the Commonwealth, to unbar the door."

"Ye cannot be officers of the State," answered the woman, "else would
ye not proceed thus rudely. Ye are robbers and assassins."

"We must not stand here trifling," said Spikeman. "Throw thyself
against the door, Ephraim, and burst it in, since we are resisted."

His companion, accordingly, endeavored, by flinging the whole weight
of his person against the barrier, wherein he was assisted by his
superior, to break it down; but in vain, the stout planks defeating
all their efforts.

"Bring an axe, quickly!" cried Spikeman. "We will try the virtue of
steel blows."

Under the repeated strokes of the axe, wielded by brawny arms, the
strong door presently fell with a crash into the room, and stepping
over its fragments, the assailants stood in the presence of the
occupants. By a taper, which was burning on a small table, the
apartment was sufficiently lighted to make all objects visible, though
indistinctly.

The dimensions of the room could not exceed a square of twelve feet.
The sides, which rose to a height of perhaps eight feet, were hung all
around with a black cloth, and overhead the same covering was
extended. The furniture consisted of only a chair or two, and of the
table above mentioned. In the centre stood the tall form of sister
Celestina, clothed in garments as black as the drapery which
surrounded her, and holding by the hand, the little Indian girl
Neebin. Without stopping to notice them, Spikeman and Ephraim
immediately commenced searching, with drawn rapiers, behind the
hangings. The cloth, on being withdrawn, exposed to view nothing but
unhewn logs, and a recess