hiding-place was in the possession of quite too many; and the
subject of deliberation among the leaders was now as to the propriety of
its continued tenure. The country, they felt assured, would soon be
overrun with the state troops. They had no fears of discovery from this
source, prior to the affair of the massacre of the guard, which rendered
necessary the secretion of many in their retreat, who, before that time,
were perfectly unconscious of its existence. In addition to this, it was
now known to the pedler and the idiot, neither of whom had any reason
for secrecy on the subject in the event of their being able to make it
public. The difficulty, with regard to the two latter, subjected them to
no small risk of suffering from the ultimate necessities of the rogues,
and there was a sharp and secret consultation as to the mode of
disposing of the two captives; but so much blood had been already
spilled, that the sense of the majority revolted at the further resort
to that degree of violence--particularly, too, when it was recollected
that they could only hold their citadel for a certain and short period
of time. It was determined, therefore, that so long as they themselves
continued in their hiding-place, Bunce and Chub should, perforce,
continue prisoners. Having so determined, and made their arrangements
accordingly, the two last-made captives were assigned a cell, chosen
with reference to its greater security than the other portions of their
hold--one sufficiently tenacious of its trust, it would seem, to answer
well its purpose.

In the meantime, the sufferings of Lucy Munro were such as may well be
understood from the character of her feelings, as we have heretofore
beheld their expression. In her own apartment--her cell, we may style
it, for she was in a sort of honorable bondage--she brooded with deep
melancholy over the narrative given by the pedler. She had no reason to
doubt its correctness, and, the more she meditated upon it, the more
acute became her misery. But a day intervened, and the trial of Ralph
Colleton must take place; and, without her evidence, she was well aware
there could be no hope of his escape from the doom of felony--from the
death of shame and physical agony. The whole picture grew up before her
excited fancy. She beheld the assembled crowd--she saw him borne to
execution--and her senses reeled beneath the terrible conjurations of
her fancy. She threw herself prostrate upon her couch, an