th a
look of contempt, he proceeded to examine the fastenings of the
carpet-bag. Maxwell spoke not; his pride was still "above par," and he
returned Hatchie's contemptuous glances with a scowl of scorn and
hatred. The attorney was in sore tribulation at the unexpected turn
affairs had taken, and the future did not present a very encouraging
aspect. Of the mulatto'a present intentions he could gain no idea. The
long rope he had brought with him looked ominous, and a shudder passed
through his frame as he considered the uses to which it might be
applied. As he regarded the cool proceedings of his jailer, the worst
anticipations crowded upon him. The mulatto looked like a demon of the
inquisition to his guilty soul. But, tortured as he was by the most
terrible forebodings, he still preserved his dignified scowl, and
watched the operations of Hatchie with apparent coolness.

Hatchie examined the lock upon the carpet-bag, and found that it
entirely secured the contents from observation.

"I will trouble you for the key of this bag," said he, politely, as he
rose and approached the attorney.

"What mean you, fellow? Would you rob me?" exclaimed Maxwell.

"Not at all, sir; do not alarm yourself. The key, if you please. In
which pocket is it?"

Hatchie approached, with the intention of searching his prisoner.

"Stand off, villain!" cried Maxwell, as he gave the mulatto a hearty
kick in the neighborhood of the knee.

"Very well, sir," said Hatchie, not at all disconcerted by the blow.

Taking the rope he had brought, he dexterously passed it round the legs
of the attorney, and made it fast to the tree.

"Now, sir, if you will tell which pocket contains the key, you will save
yourself the indignity of being searched."

"Miserable villain! if you wish to commit violence upon me, you must do
it without my consent."

"Sorry to disoblige you, sir," said Hatchie, with an affectation of
civility; "but I must have the key."

"I have not the key; it is lost. If I had, you should struggle for it."

"You will pardon me for doubting your word. I must satisfy myself."

"Help! help!" shouted the attorney, as his tormentor proceeded to put
his threat in execution.

This was a contingency for which Hatchie was not prepared. To the little
operation he was about to perform he desired no witnesses at present,
and a slight rustling in the bushes near him not a little disconcerted
him. Stuffing a handkerchief into the attorney's mo