the
consequences, even if my dog's one."

"They maintain," said Grudd, "that, no matter what slavery may have
done, there is no power in the constitution to destroy it."

"I am reminded of a story my daughter Virginia was reading to me not
long ago,--how the great polar bear is sometimes killed. The hunter has
a spear, near the pointed end of which is securely fastened a strong
cross-piece. The bear, you know, is aggressive; he advances, meets the
levelled shaft, seizes the cross-piece with his powerful arms, and with
a growl of rage hugs the spear-head into his heart. Now, slavery is just
such another great, stupid, ferocious monster. The constitution is the
spear of Liberty. The cross-piece, if you like, is the republican policy
which has been nailed to it, and which has given the bear a hold upon
it. He is hugging it into his heart. He is destroying himself."

The story was scarcely ended when Cudjo leaped into the circle,
crying,--

"De sogers! de sogers!"

"Where?" said Pomp, instinctively springing to his rifle.

"In de sink! Dey fire onto we and de young lady!"

"Any one hurt?"

"No. Massa Hapgood cotch de bullets in him's hat!" for this was the
impression the negro had brought away with him. "Hull passel sogers!
Sile Ropes,--seed him fust ob all!"

It was some moments before the patriots fully comprehended this alarming
intelligence. But Pomp understood it instantly.

"Gentlemen, will you fight? Your side of the house is attacked!"

There was a moment's confusion. Then those who had not already taken
their guns, sprang to them. They had brought lanterns, which were now
burning. They plunged into the gallery, following Pomp. Cudjo ran for
his sword, drew it from the scabbard, and ran yelling after them.

The sudden tumult died in the depths of the cavern; and all was still
again before those left behind had recovered from their astonishment.

There was one whose astonishment was largely mixed with joy. A moment
since he was lying like a man near the last gasp; but now he started up,
singularly forgetful of his dying condition, until reminded of it by
feeling the restraint of the rope and seeing Toby. Lysander sank back
with a groan.

"'Pears like you's a little more chirk," said Toby.

"My head! my head!" said Lysander. "My skull is fractured. Can't you
loose the rope a little? The strain on my wrists is--" ending the
sentence with a faint moan.

Had Toby forgotten the strain on _his_ wrists,