d now
to fail to perform, will simply cost you your life. Will you write? or
not?"

The prisoner remained sullen, abject, silent, for some seconds. Then,
with a deep breath which shook all his frame, and an expression of the
most agonizing despair on his face, he took the pen.

"I will write; but I assure you it will do no good."

"So much the worse for you," was the grim response.

Mechanically and briefly Bythewood drew up a paper, signed his name, and
shoved it across the table.

"Does that suit you?"

Pomp did not offer to take it.

"If it suits you, well. I shall not read it. It is not the letter that
interests us; it is the result."

Bythewood suddenly drew back the paper, pondered its contents a moment,
and cast it into the fire.

"I think I had better write another."

"I think so too. I fear you have not done what you might to impress upon
the colonel's mind the importance of these simple terms--a safe conduct
for Mr. Villars and family, the troops withdrawn entirely from the
mountains, and Deslow delivered here to-night. This is plain enough; and
you see the rest of us ask nothing for ourselves. I advise you to write
freely. Open your mind to your friend. And beware,"--Pomp perceived by a
strange expression which had come into the prisoner's face that this
counsel was necessary,--"beware that he does not misunderstand you, and
send a force to rescue you from our hands. If such a thing is attempted,
this cave will be found barricaded. With what, you wonder? With those
stones? With your dead body, my friend!"

After that hint, it was evident Augustus did not choose to write what
had first entered his mind on learning that his address to the colonel
was not to be examined. Penn handed him a fresh sheet, and he filled
it--a long and confidential letter, of which we regret that no copy now
exists.

Before it was finished, Carl returned, accompanied by four of the
patriots and two of the prisoners. One of these last was Pepperill. He
was immediately paroled, and sent off to the sink with the order that
had been previously written. The letter completed, it was folded,
sealed, and despatched by the other prisoner to Colonel Derring's
head-quarters.

"Do you believe Deslow will be delivered up?" said Stackridge, in
consultation with Penn in a corner of the cave; the farmer's gray eye
gleaming with anticipated vengeance.

"I believe the confederate authorities, as a general thing, are capable
of any m