ramed the dawn's red glow.
The judge looked out and shook his head dubiously. It was twelve feet or
more to the ground, a risky drop for a gentleman of his years and build.
The judge considered making a rope of his bedding and lowering himself
to the ground by means of it, he remembered to have read of captives in
that interesting French prison, the Bastille, who did this. However, an
equally ingenious but much more simple use for his bedding occurred to
him; it would form a soft and yielding substance on which to alight.
He gathered it up into his arms, feather-tick and all, and pushed it
through the window, then he wriggled out across the ledge, feet first,
and lowering himself to the full length of his arms, dropped.

He landed squarely on the rolled-up bed with a jar that shook him to his
center. Almost gaily he snatched up a quilt, draping it about him after
the manner of a Roman, toga, and thus lightly habited, started across
Mr. Pegloe's truck-patch, his one thought Boggs' and the sun. It would
have served no purpose to have gone home, since his entire wardrobe,
except for the shirt on his back, was in the tavern-keeper's possession,
besides he had not a moment to lose, for the sun was peeping at him over
the horizon.

Unobserved he gained the edge of the town and the highroad that led past
Boggs' and stole a fearful glance over his shoulder. The sun was clear
of the treetops, he could even feel the lifeless dust grow warm beneath
his feet; and wrapping the quilt closer about him he broke into a
labored run.

Some twenty minutes later Boggs' came in sight. He experienced a moment
of doubt--suppose Fentress had been there and gone! It was a hideous
thought and the judge groaned. Then at the other end of the meadow near
the woods he distinguished several men, Fentress and his friends beyond
question. The judge laughed aloud. In spite of everything he was keeping
his engagement, he was plucking his triumph out of the very dregs of
failure. The judge threw himself over the fence, a corner of the quilt
caught on one of the rails; he turned to release it, and in that instant
two pistol shots rang out sharply in the morning air.

CHAPTER XXXIV. THE DUEL

It had been with no little reluctance that Solomon Mahaffy accompanied
Yancy and Cavendish to Belle Plain; he would have preferred to remain in
Raleigh in attendance upon judge Price. Intimately acquainted with the
judge's mental processes, he could follow