head reeling
like that of a drunken man, and at last pitching heavily over the cliff.

Some of the cowards who had deserted their post sprang to save him; but
too late: the man was gone.

It was fortunate for Silas that he had been let down several feet thus
gradually. He was near the ledge from which he had been lifted, and had
just time to grasp it again and crawl upon it, when the man fell,
turning a complete somerset over him, fearful to witness! revolving
slowly in his swift descent through the air; still holding with
tenacious grip the rope; plunging through the boughs like a mere log
tumbled from the cliff, and striking the rocks below--dead.

He had taken the rope with him; and Silas had been preserved from
sharing his fate only by a lucky accident. The knot at his hips loosened
itself as he clutched the ledge, and let the coil fly off as the man
shot down.

Not a gun was fired: rebels and patriots seemed struck dumb with horror
at the brave fellow's fate. Then Carl whispered,--

"That vas my other cousin! That vas Hans!"

"Cudjo! Cudjo! what are you about?" cried Penn.

The black did not answer. Beside himself with excitement, he ran to the
leaning tree and climbed it like an ape. The naked sword gleamed among
the twigs. Reaching the trunk of the tall tree he ascended that as
nimbly, never stopping until he had reached the upper limbs. There was
one that branched towards the ledge where Silas clung. At a glance
choosing that, Cudjo ran out upon it, until it bent beneath his weight.
There he tried in vain to reach his ancient enemy with the sword; the
distance was too great, even for his long arms.

"Sile Ropes! ye ol' oberseer! g'e know Cudjo? Me Cudjo!" he yelled,
slashing the end of the branch as if it had been his victim's flesh.
"'Member de lickins? 'Member my gal ye got away? Now ye git yer pay!"

While he was raving thus, one of the soldiers above, sheltering himself
from the fire of the patriots by lying almost flat on the ground,
levelled his gun at the half-crazed negro's breast, and pulled the
trigger.

A flash--a report--the sword fell, and went clattering down upon the
rocks. Cudjo turned one wild look upward, clapping his hand to his
breast. Then, with a terrible grimace, he cast his eyes down again at
Ropes,--crept still farther out on the branch,--and leaped.

Silas had his nose in the angle of the ledge again, and scarcely knew
what had happened until he felt the negro alight on his