itted and taken prisoner by a
boy! kept a prisoner by an old negro! This, then, is the military glory
you bragged of in advance! And I was going to be so proud of being your
wife! Well, I am proud!"

There was gall in her words. They made Lysander writhe.

"Bad luck will happen, you know. Once out of this scrape, you'll see
what I'll do! Come, Sal, now be good to me."

"Good to you! I've tried that, and what did I get for it?"

"I own I've given you good cause to hate me. I'm sorry for it. The truth
is, we never understood each other, Sal. You was always quick and sharp
yourself; you'll confess that. You know how easy it is to irritate me;
and I'm a devil when in a passion. But all that's past. Hate me, if you
will--I deserve it. But you don't want to see me eternally disgraced, I
know."

She laughed disdainfully. "If you will disgrace yourself, how can I help
it?"

"The other end of the cave is attacked, and it is sure to be carried. I
shall soon be in the hands of my own men. If I don't succeed in doing
something for myself first, it'll be impossible for me to regain the
position I've lost."

"Well, do something for yourself! What hinders you?"

"This cursed rope! I wouldn't mind the handcuffs if the rope was away.
Just a touch with that knife--that's all, Sal."

"Yes! and then what would you do?"

"Run."

"And lose no time in sending your men to attack this end of the cave,
too! O, I know you!"

"I swear to you, Sal! I never will take advantage of it in that way, if
you will do me just this little favor. It will be worth my life to me;
and it shall cost you nothing, nor your friends."

"Hush! I know too well what your promises amount to. How can I depend
even upon your oath? There's no truth or honor in you!"

"Well?" said Lysander, despairingly.

"Well, I am going to help you, for all that. Only it must not appear as
if I did it. And you shall keep your oath,--or one of us shall die for
it! Now be still!"

She walked back past the block that served as a table, and, when between
it and Toby, quietly took the knife from it, concealing it in her
sleeve.

"Don't come for me to hear any more dying requests," she said to the old
negro, with a sneer. "Your prisoner will survive. Only give him a little
coffee, if there is any. Here is some: I will wait upon him."

And, carrying the coffee, she dropped the knife at Lysander's side.

XLII.

_PROMETHEUS UNBOUND._

Five minutes later Penn an