ry which he had been before too
excited to inquire into. He remembered the hints of Bruce, and he had
learned enough of border customs and principles to perceive that the
justice of the woods had at last overtaken the horse-thief. The pursuing
party had captured him,--taken him in the very manner, while still in
possession of the 'two-year-old pony,' and at once adjudged him to the
penalty prescribed by the border code,--tied his arms, noosed him with
the halter of the stolen horse, and left him to swing, as soon as the
animal should be tired of supporting him. There was a kind of dreadful
poetical justice in thus making the stolen horse the thief's executioner;
it gave the animal himself an opportunity to wreak vengeance for all
wrongs received, and at the same time allowed his captor the rare
privilege of galloping on his back into eternity.

Such was the mode of settling such offences against the peace and dignity
of the settlements; such was the way in which Stackpole had been reduced
to his unenviable situation; and, that all passers-by might take note
that the execution had not been done without authority, there was painted
upon the smooth white bark of the tree, in large black letters, traced by
a finger well charged with moistened gunpowder, the ominous name--JUDGE
LYNCH,--the Rhadamanthus of the forest, whose decisions are yet respected
in the land, and whose authority sometimes bids fair to supersede that of
all erring human tribunals.

Thus tied up, his rifle, knife, and ammunition laid under a tree hard by,
that he might have the satisfaction, if satisfaction it could be, of
knowing they were in safety, the executioners had left him to his fate,
and ridden away long since, to attend to other important affairs of the
colony.

The moment that Roland understood in whose service he was drawing his
sword, a change came over the spirit of his thoughts and feelings, and he
returned it very composedly to its sheath,--much to the satisfaction of
the negro, Emperor, who, recognising the unfortunate Ralph at the same
instant, cried aloud, "'Top massa! 't ar Captain Stackpole, what stole
Brown Briery! Reckon I'll touch the pony on the rib, hah! Hanging too
good for him, white niggah t'ief, hah!"

With that, the incensed negro made as if he would have driven the pony
from under the luckless Ralph; but was prevented by his master, who,
taking a second survey of the spectacle, motioned to the horror-struck
females to r