It was a gray glimmer, which rapidly grew to daylight as they advanced.

"It is the chasm, or sink, where the roof of the cave has fallen in,"

said Penn.

While he spoke, a m.u.f.fled rustling of wings was heard above their heads.

They looked up, and saw numbers of large black bats, startled by the torches, darting hither and thither under the dismal vault. Birds, too, flew out from their hiding-places as they advanced, and flapped and screamed in the awful gloom.

To save the torches for their return, Cudjo now extinguished them. They walked in the brightening twilight along the bank of the stream, and found, to the surprise and delight of Virginia, some delicate ferns and pale green shrubs growing in the crevices of the rock. Vegetation increased as they proceeded, until they arrived at the sink, and saw before them steep banks covered with vines, thickets, and forest trees.

The river, whose former course had evidently been stopped by the falling in of the forest, here made a curve to the right around the banks, and half disappeared in a channel it had hollowed for itself under the cliff. Here they left it, and climbed to the open day.

"How strangely yellow the sunshine looks!" said Virginia. "It seems as though I had colored gla.s.ses on. And how sultry the air!"

She looked up at the towering rocks that walled the chasm, and at the trees upon whose roots she stood, and whose tops waved in the summer breeze and sunshine, at the level of the mountain slope so far above.

She could also see, on the summit of the cliffs, the charred skeletons of trees the late fire had destroyed.

"It was here," said Penn, "that Stackridge and his friends escaped. This leaning tree with its low branches forms a sort of ladder to the limbs of that larger one; and by these it is easy to climb----"

As he was speaking, all eyes were turned upwards; when suddenly Cudjo uttered a warning whistle, and dropped flat upon the ground.

"A man!" said Carl, crouching at the foot of the tree.

Penn did not fall or crouch, nor did Virginia scream, although, looking up through the scant leaf.a.ge, they saw, standing on the cliff, and looking down straight at them, at the same time waving his hand exultantly, one whom they well knew--their enemy, Silas Ropes.

XLI.

_PROMETHEUS BOUND._

At the wave of the lieutenant's hand, a squad of soldiers rushed to the spot. In a minute their muskets were pointed downwards, and aimed.

"Fly!" said Penn, thrusting Virginia from him. "Carl, take her away!"

The boy drew her back down the rocks, following Cudjo, who was descending on all fours, like an ape. She turned her face in terror to look after Penn. There he stood, where she had left him, intrepid, his fine head uncovered, looking steadfastly up at the men on the cliff, and waving his hat, defiantly. At once she recognized his n.o.ble self-sacrifice. It was his object to attract their fire, and so shield her from the bullets as she fled.

She struggled from Carl's grasp. "O, Penn," she cried, extending her hands beseechingly, and starting to return to him.

"Fire!" shouted Silas Ropes.

Crack! went a gun, immediately succeeded by an irregular volley, like a string of exploding fire-crackers. Penn, expecting death, saw first the rapid flashes, then the soldiers half concealed by the smoke of their own guns. The smoke cleared, and there he still stood, smiling--for Virginia was unhurt.

"Your practice is very poor!" he shouted up at the soldiers; and, putting on his hat, he walked calmly away.

The bullets had struck the trees and flattened on the stones all around him; but he was untouched. And before the rebels could reload their pieces, he was safe with his companions in the cavern.

He found Cudjo hastily relighting his torch. Virginia was sitting on a stone where Carl had placed her; powerless with the reaction of fear; her countenance, white as that of a snow-image in the gloom, turned upon Penn as if she knew not whether it was really he, or his apparition. She did not rise to meet him. She could not speak. Her eyes were as the eyes of one that beholds a miracle of G.o.d's mercy.

"Is no guns here?" cried Carl.

"De men hab all urn's guns,"' said Cudjo, over his kindlings. "Me gwine fotch 'em!" And, his torch lighted, he darted away. In a minute he was out of sight and hearing; only the flame he bore could be seen dancing like an ignis fatuus in the darkness of the cavern.

"O, if I had only that pistol, Carl!" said Penn. "I could manage to defend the chasm with it until they come. But wishes won't help us.

Virginia, Deslow has turned traitor! He must have known his friends were going this morning to visit thy father, or else he could not so well have chosen his time for betraying them." He lighted his torch, and lifted Virginia to her feet. "Have no fear. Even if the rebels get possession here, the subterranean pa.s.sages can be held by a dozen men against a hundred."

"I am not afraid now; I am quite strong."

"That is well. Carl, take the light and go with her."

"And vat shall you do?"

"I will stay and watch the movements of the soldiers."

"Wery goot. But I have vun little obshection."

"What is it?"

"You know the vay petter, and you vill take her safer as I can. But my eyes is wery wigorous, and I vill engage to vatch the cusses myself."

"Thou art right, my Carl!" said Penn, who indeed felt that it was for him, and for no other, to convey Virginia back to her father and safety.

He crept upon the rocks, and took a last observation of the cliffs. Not a soldier was in sight. But that fact did not delight him much.

"They fear a possible shot or two. No doubt they are making preparations, and when all is ready they will descend. I only hope they will delay long enough! Farewell, Carl!"

"Goot pie, Penn! Goot pie, Wirginie!" cried Carl, with stout heart and cheery voice. And as he saw them depart,--Penn's arm supporting her,--listened for the last murmur of their voices, and watched for the last glimmer of the torch as it was swallowed by the darkness, and he was left alone, he continued to smile grimly; but his eyes were dim.

"They are wery happy together! And I susphect the time vill come ven he vill marry her; and then they vill neither of 'em care much for me.

Veil, I shall love 'em, and wish 'em happy all the same!"

With which thought he smiled still more resolutely than before, and squeezed the tears from his eyes very tenderly, in order, probably, to keep those useful organs as "wigorous" as possible for the work before him.

Handcuffed and securely bound to the rock, that modern Prometheus, Captain Lysander Sprowl, like his mythical prototype, felt the vulture's beak in his vitals. Chagrin devoured his liver. An overflow of southern bile was the result, and he turned yellow to the whites of his eyes.

Old Toby noticed the phenomenon. Poor old Toby, with that foolish head and large tropical heart of his, knew no better than to feel a movement of compa.s.sion.

"Kin uh do any ting fur ye, sar?"

The unfeigned sympathy of the question gave the wily Prometheus his cue.

He uttered a feeble moan, and studied to look as much sicker than he was as possible.

Pity at the sight made the old negro forget much which a white man would have been apt to remember--the disgrace this wretch had brought upon "the family;" and the recent cruel whipping, from which his own back was still sore.

"Ye pooty sick, sar?"

"Water!" gasped Lysander.