ously the work was discontinued. A silence of a few moments
ensued. Every eye was turned upward,--every heart beat with terror to
see the delicate girl, held by a single arm, and apparently about to be
precipitated from that dizzying height. Again Wacousta shouted,--

"Life for life, De Haldimar! If I yield her shall I live?"

"No terms shall be dictated to me by a rebel, in the heart of my own
fort," returned the governor. "Restore my child, and we will then
consider what mercy may be extended to you."

"Well do I know what mercy dwells in such a heart as yours," gloomily
remarked the prisoner; "but I come."

"Surround the staff, men," ordered the governor, in a low tone. "The
instant he descends, secure him: lash him in every limb, nor suffer
even his insolent tongue to be longer at liberty."

"Boyce, for God's sake open the gate, and place men in readiness to
lower the drawbridge," implored Sir Everard of the officer of the
guard, and in a tone of deep emotion that was not meant to be overheard
by the governor. "I fear the boldness of this vengeful man may lead him
to some desperate means of escape."

While the officer whom he addressed issued a command, the
responsibility of which he fancied he might, under the peculiar
circumstances of the moment, take upon himself, Wacousta began his
descent, not as before, by adhering to the staff, but by the rope which
he held in his left hand, while he still supported the apparently
senseless Clara against his right chest with the other.

"Now, Colonel de Haldimar, I hope your heart is at rest," he shouted,
as he rapidly glided by the cord; "enjoy your triumph as best may suit
your pleasure."

Every eye followed his movement with interest; every heart beat lighter
at the certainty of Clara being again restored, and without other
injury than the terror she must have experienced in such a scene. Each
congratulated himself on the favourable termination of the terrible
adventure, yet were all ready to spring upon and secure the desperate
author of the wrong. Wacousta had now reached the centre of the
flag-staff. Pausing for a moment, he grappled it with his strong and
nervous feet, on which he apparently rested, to give a momentary relief
to the muscles of his left arm. He then abruptly abandoned his hold,
swinging himself out a few yards from the staff, and returning again,
dashed his feet against it with a force that caused the weakened mass
to vibrate to its very founda