te as were the exertions of Wacousta, who evidently continued
this mode of flight from a conviction that the instant his person was
left exposed the fire-arms of his pursuers would be brought to bear
upon him, the two officers in front, animated by the most extraordinary
exertions, were rapidly gaining upon him. Already was one within fifty
yards of him, when a loud yell was heard from the bridge. This was
fiercely answered by the fleeing man, and in a manner that implied his
glad sense of coming rescue. In the wild exultation of the moment, he
raised Clara high above his head, to show her in triumph to the
governor, whose person his keen eye could easily distinguish among
those crowded upon the rampart. In the gratified vengeance of that
hour, he seemed utterly to overlook the actions of those who were so
near him. During this brief scene, Sir Everard had dropped upon one
knee, and supporting his elbow on the other, aimed his rifle at the
heart of the ravisher of his wife. An exulting shout burst from the
pursuing troops. Wacousta bounded a few feet in air, and placing his
hand to his side, uttered another yell, more appalling than any that
had hitherto escaped him. His flight was now uncertain and wavering. He
staggered as one who had received a mortal wound; and discontinuing his
unequal mode of retreat, turned his back upon his pursuers, and threw
all his remaining energies into a final effort at escape.

Inspirited by the success of his shot, and expecting momentarily to see
him fall weakened with the loss of blood, the excited Valletort
redoubled his exertions. To his infinite joy, he found that the efforts
of the fugitive became feebler at each moment Johnstone was about
twenty paces behind him, and the pursuing party at about the same
distance from Johnstone. The baronet had now reached his enemy, and
already was the butt of his rifle raised with both hands with murderous
intent, when suddenly Wacousta, every feature distorted with rage and
pain, turned like a wounded lion at bay, and eluding the blow,
deposited the unconscious form of his victim upon the sward. Springing
upon his infinitely weaker pursuer, he grappled him furiously by the
throat, exclaiming through his clenched teeth:--

"Nay then, since you will provoke your fate--be it so. Die like a dog,
and be d--d, for having balked me--of my just revenge!"

As he spoke, he hurled the gasping officer to the earth with a violence
that betrayed the dreadfu