ine.

"Sir Charles Carew!" cried Landless. "I pray you to take me with you!"

Without moving, Sir Charles looked at him coldly, a peculiar smile just
curling his lip.

"I remember a day," he said, "when you said that I might wait until
doomsday and not hear favor asked of me by you."

"You are not generous," Landless said slowly, "but I ask the favor. I
ask it on my knees. Let me go with you."

Sir Charles stepped into the boat and took the seat reserved for him. "I
regret," he said politely, "that it comports not with my duty as a
gentleman and an officer of the King to assist you in your very natural
endeavors to escape the gibbet. Push off, men."

The boat shot from the shore and up the darkening stream, hastening to
overtake its consort. Sir Charles raised his Spanish hat and fluttered a
lace handkerchief. "To a happier meeting, gentlemen!" The
Surveyor-General and the divine returned the salute, and stood in
silence watching the canoe with its brawny rowers and the slender,
elegant figure in the stern. It caught up with the Colonel's boat and
the two grew smaller and smaller, until they became mere black dots and
the dusk swallowed them up.

Landless watched them too with a face set like a stone. The overseer,
backed by two of the servants, approached him with caution, but there
was no need,--he submitted to be bound without a word, or struggle, or
change in the expression of his face. He turned mechanically towards the
boat, but the overseer plucked him back. "Not yet," he said. "We are all
dead beat, and we have not the need to hurry that have those who are
gone on. The Major's commander now, and he says sleep here a few hours.
I'll fasten you so that you can't get away, I promise ye! Fegs! it's a
pity that a man who can fight as you fought last night should have to
die a dog's death after all! But you've only yourself to thank for it."

The red glow died from the river like the scarlet from cooling iron, and
it lay dark and silent, dimly reflecting a myriad of stars. The sloping
bank, the maize fields, tobacco patch and mulberry grove, the plateau
upon which were ranged the wigwams of the Indians, the dark and endless
forest--all the wide, sombre earth--had their stars also--myriads on
myriads of fireflies, restlessly sparkling lanterns swung by legions of
fairies. There was no wind; the cataracts of wild grape descending from
the tops of the tallest trees stirred not a leaf; the pines were
soundless. B