d Maxwell.

The voice was like the knell of doom. It grated harshly upon her ears,
and gave rise to a thousand fears in her timid heart.

"Thank God, I am safe!" said she, after a pause.

"And I thank God I have been the means of preserving you," replied
Maxwell, willing to render the terrible calamity an accessory to his
crime.

"But why do you go this way?" asked Emily, as she saw the Flatfoot
approach the wreck.

"I only wish to convey you from the scene of danger."

"Then why not go to that steamer?"

"Probably she is by this time converted into a hospital for the
sufferers. I would not shock your delicate nerves with such a scene of
woe and misery as will be on board of her."

"May we not render some assistance?"

"No doubt there are more assistants than can labor to advantage now."

Emily was silent, but not satisfied. Her fears in some measure subsided,
when, about two miles below the scene of the disaster, Maxwell ordered
the boat to be put in at a wood-yard. The attorney was all gentleness,
and assisted her to the cabin of Jerry Swinger, the owner of the
wood-yard.

Hatchie had been able, by severe exertion, to keep within hearing of the
splashing oars. The current fortunately carried him near the wood-yard,
and, aided by the sounds he heard at the cabin, and by the boat which he
saw, he concluded the party had landed there. Letting go the door, a few
vigorous strokes brought him to the shore. Approaching the cabin, he
satisfied himself that his mistress had taken shelter there. Concealing
himself in the woods, he awaited with much anxiety the next movement of
the attorney. In the morning he heard the noise at the cabin, and had
been the means of saving his mistress from a calamity far more dreadful
than death itself.

On the evening of the day of the explosion, an elderly gentleman sat in
a private apartment of one of the principal hotels in Vicksburg,
attentively reading an "Extra," in which the particulars of the disaster
were detailed. He read, with little apparent interest, the account,
until he came to the names of "Saved, Killed, Wounded and Missing." An
expression of the deepest anxiety settled upon his countenance. He
finished reading the list of survivors, and a transient feeling of
satisfaction was visible on his face. When in the list of the "missing"
he read the name of "Miss Dumont, Antoine De Guy and Henry Carroll," a
smile as of glutted revenge and malignant hatred dispelled the c