ment. Her visits became more seldom,
and the ill temper of her husband increased.

One night, Marie pursued her devious way to the mountains to furnish
Jack with the accustomed supplies. He snatched form her hand the liquor,
and took a deep draught. The poison did its work. He became excited, and
quarreled with his wife; and, roused to fury by her reproaches, struck
her with his hand, seized her by the shoulder and thrust her from the
hut, tumbling her over the ledge. Marie rose, groaning with pain, being
severely bruised. The cup of her indignation, which had long been
full, was now overflowing. She slowly returned to her home in Guayave,
brooding over schemes of revenge, and formed the determination to betray
her husband into the hands of justice. She called upon Dr. Duncan, a
rich planter and a magistrate, and offered to guide him to the spot
where Jack Shadow, the daring rebel, was concealed.

Within a couple of hours after the magistrate received the welcome
information, he was on his way to the mountains, accompanied by Marie
and a guard of soldiers. They entered the thicket on the side of the
mountain, where Jack Shadow had taken up his abode. They came to a
precipitous ledge of rocks. "Move gently, now," said Marie, in a low
voice; "we are close upon his hut."

The soldiers could see nothing resembling a hut. With their muskets
loaded, and bayonets fixed, they with difficulty made their way through
steep, rugged, and crooked passes, and, after a toilsome march, stood by
the side of Jack's habitation.

The sergeant was now quietly arranging his men in such a manner as to
insure the captivity or death of the outlaw, when one of the soldiers
stumbled, and his musket struck the ground with a ringing noise. Jack,
who had just awakened from his drunken nap, heard the ominous sound.
He had no weapons, but relied on the security of his retreat and his
activity and strength. He cautiously opened the door, in front of which
stood a soldier with his musket pointed towards him. The sergeant cried,
"Surrender, or you are a dead man!"

Jack made one last desperate struggle for life. He sprang down the
ledge, turned aside with one hand the bayonet which was thrust at his
bosom, and felled the soldier with the other; but ere he could clear the
guard, his shoulder was transfixed by another bayonet, which disabled
him, and in a few minutes he was stretched at the feet of the soldiers,
a wounded, pinioned captive. Before the