gone--again, his strangely fascinated eye turns to that object of
horror. Is it the agitation of a death struggle which causes it now to
swing to and fro in the dusky air? The thought that life may not yet be
extinct gives him new strength--he runs--he flies to Major Scott's
lodgings, for from him alone is he secure of aid in his present purpose.

As Mr. Sinclair approached the house in which Major Scott had found
accommodations for himself and his prisoner, he found himself no longer
in darkness. More than one burning torch threw a lurid light upon the
scene, while the men who held them, and perhaps as many as twenty more
stood clustered together, near the house, against which some of them
were engaged in elevating a ladder. In what service that ladder might
have been last used Mr. Sinclair shuddered to think. Perfect stillness
reigned in this party. Their few orders were given in whispers.

Keeping cautiously in shadow, and moving with stealthy steps, Mr.
Sinclair passed them and reached the house. Even when there, he had
little hope of making Major Scott hear him without alarming them, and he
could not doubt that they would do every thing in their power to
frustrate his object. But Heaven favored his merciful design--he
touched the door and found it ajar. All was dark as midnight within it,
and he had scarcely taken a step when he stumbled against a man whose
voice sounded fiercely even in the low whisper in which he ejaculated,
"D--n you. Do you want to wake the Major? Don't you see you're at his
room door?"

"I see now, but it was so dark at first," whispered Mr. Sinclair in
reply--adding with that quickness of perception and readiness of
invention which danger supplies to some minds--"I have come to watch
him--you are wanted."

The man obeyed the intimation, and he had no sooner turned away than Mr.
Sinclair laid his hand upon the latch of the door which had been
indicated as Major Scott's. It yielded to his touch, and with a quick
but cautious movement he entered the room, and closed the door behind
him. Cautious as he was, the soldier's light sleep was broken, and he
exclaimed hurriedly, "Who's there?"

Mr. Sinclair's communication was made in a hasty whisper, and Major
Scott only heard enough to know that his prisoner was in danger. Of Mr.
Sinclair's worst suspicions he did not even dream when, starting to his
feet, half dressed, as he had thrown himself on the bed, he snatched his
pistols from under his