re. Shoot him if he turns his head. Dare you?"

"I will!" said Virginia.

"Keep near the ravine. My rifle will be there. If you have any
difficulty, I will end it. Now march!"--thrusting Bythewood out of the
thicket.--"Straight on!--Carry your pistol cocked, young lady!"

Bitterly then did the noble Augustus repent him of having sent his guard
away: "I ought to have died first!" But it was too late to recall them;
and there was no way left him but to yield--or appear to yield--implicit
obedience.

What a situation for a son of the chivalrous south! He had reviled
Lysander for having been made prisoner by a boy; and here was he, the
haughty, the proud, the ambitious, overawed by a negro's threats, and
carried away captive by a girl! However, he had a hope--a desperate one,
indeed. He would watch for an opportunity, wheel suddenly upon Virginia,
seize the pistol, and escape,--risking a shot from it, which he knew she
was firmly determined to deliver in case of need (for had he not seen
the soldier's gashed wrist?)--and risking also (what was more serious
still) a shot from the rifle in the ravine.

But when they came to the bowlder, there the resolution he had taken
fell back leaden and dead upon his heart. He had, on reflection,
concluded that the twinkle of guns in the leaves there was but a fiction
of the wily African brain. As he passed, however, he perceived two guns
peeping through. He knew not what exultant hearts were behind
them,--what eager eyes beneath the boughs were watching him, led thus
tamely into captivity; but he was impressed with a wholesome respect for
them, and from that moment thought no more of escape.

As Virginia approached the cave with her prisoner, the two guns, having
followed them closely all the way, came up out of the ravine. They were
accompanied by Penn and Carl. In the gladness of that sight Virginia
almost forgot her dead sister and her captive father. Those two dear
familiar faces beamed upon her with joy and triumph. But there was one
who was not so glad. This Quaker schoolmaster, turned fighting man, was
the last person Augustus (who was unpleasantly reminded of the
conversation under the bridge) would have wished to see under such
embarrassing circumstances.

In the cave was Toby, wailing over the dead body of Salina. But at sight
of the living sister he rose up and was comforted.

Pomp had remained to cover the retreat. When all were safely arrived, he
came bounding into