en, with Lysander at their head, rushed to the entrance
of the cave. But there they encountered unexpected resistance: the two
sisters--Salina with the pistol, Virginia with the axe.

"Hello! Sal!" cried Lysander, recoiling into the arms of his men; "what
the devil do you mean?"

"I mean to kill you, or any man that sets foot in this place! That is
what I mean!"

There could be no doubt about it: her eyes, her attitude, her whole
form, from head to foot, looked what she said. She was flushed; a smile
of wild and reckless scorn curved her mouth, and her countenance gleamed
with a wicked light.

By her side was Virginia, with the uplifted axe, expressing no less
determination by her posture and looks, though she did not speak, though
there was no smile on her pale lips, and though her features were as
white as death.

"It's no use, gals!" said Sprowl. "Don't make fools of yourselves! You
won't be hurt; but I'm bound to come in!"'

"Do not attempt it! You have broken your oath to me. But I have made an
oath I shall not break!"

What that oath was Salina did not say; but Lysander's changing color
betrayed that he guessed it pretty well.

"I don't care a d--n for you! Virginia, drop that axe, and come out here
with your father, and I pledge my sacred honor that neither of you shall
receive the least harm."

"Your sacred honor!" sneered Salina.

But Virginia said nothing. She stood like a clothed statue; only the
eyes through which the fire of the excited spirit shone were not those
of a statue; and the advanced white arm, beautiful and bare, from which
the loose sleeve fell as it reared the axe, was of God's sculpture, not
man's.

She seemed not to hear Lysander; for the promise of safety for herself
was as nothing to her: she felt that she was there to defend, with her
life, if needs were, the friends whom he had betrayed. Only a holy and
great purpose like this could have nerved that gentle nature for such
work, and made those tender sinews firm as steel.

There was something slightly devilish in the aspect of Salina; but
Virginia was all the angel; yet it was the angel roused to strife.

"Call off your gals, Mr. Villars!" said Sprowl.

"Lysander!" said the solemn voice of the old minister from within, "hear
me! We are but three here, as you see: a blind and helpless old man and
two girls. Why do you follow to persecute us? Go your way, and learn to
be a man. The business you are engaged in is unworthy of