"Don't you think you should be careful how you threaten him, seeing he has you at his mercy."

Charles could not intimidate the bold Virginian. He was furious, and no threat of punishment could move him.

During the day, a dozen more Indians came in. The red men now numbered eighty, and by the afternoon the entire party was moving toward Salem.

At dusk they were but five miles from the village. Here a halt was called, and, after a short consultation, Oracus detailed five of his braves to guard Mr. Martin, and with the others moved on over the hills and through the woods toward Salem.

"What will they do with him?" Charles asked.

"Release him when we leave the village."

"Mr. Waters, would you not be justified in killing him?"

"No."

"Why not? He will murder you if he can."

"No one is justified in slaying a prisoner, and I shall never do it. No more blood will be on my hands, unless it be in defence of her. For her, I slew the other, and only for her will my arm ever be raised against my fellow man."

"Not even in self defence?"

"No, as G.o.d is my judge, my hand shall never be raised even to defend this miserable life. I live but for my child, and when she is gone, I care not how soon I am called. I have known only sorrow since----"

He did not finish the sentence, but turned away.

It was late in the night when the party entered Salem. The houses were dark and silent. No light was visible from any window, and it seemed a deserted hamlet. Earnestness without excitement was evinced. Everything was done in perfect order. The men moved first to the blacksmith shop, where several supplied themselves with axes, heavy crow-bars and sledges.

"Explain to your warriors that, under no circ.u.mstances, are they to shed blood," said Mr. George Waters.

While Oracus was giving this order to his braves, Mr. Waters, by the aid of a lighted pine knot, found a pair of cold chisels, which he appropriated.

Then the party moved off toward the jail in perfect order. There was no undue haste, or nervous excitement. All seemed as cool as if they were going as invited guests to a banquet.

The Indians' moccasined feet made scarcely any noise upon the ground, as they moved forward. Mr. Henry Waters carried in his hand a stout iron bar, and twenty Indians bore on their shoulders a heavy log of wood.

At a word of command from Oracus the others deployed as flankers and guards. They had strict orders to harm no one; but, should they find any attempting to approach them, they were to seize and hold such persons.

The jail was reached. The long, low wall of stone, with gates of iron, loomed up like some sullen monster before the determined men. Mr. Henry Waters thrust the heavy iron bar he carried under the iron gate, and tore it off its hinges.

Then George Waters and Charles raised their sledges, while the savages with the heavy log of wood ran it like a monster battering-ram against the door. At the same instant they struck it with their sledges.

The crash was deafening, and the jail trembled to its very centre.

Again, and again, and again did those crashing thunder-bolts fall upon the iron door. The unfortunate inmates, not knowing the object of this terrible attack, set up a howl which was heard above the thunder crashes. The door, stout as it was, could not long withstand that a.s.sault. It gave way with a crash, and fell into the hall way.

The terrified jailer tumbled out of his bed, only to find himself seized and held by a pair of painted sons of the forest. Others who attempted to interfere were seized and held in grasps of iron.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The jail trembled to its very centre.]

No sooner was the door of the jail burst off its hinges, than George Waters and Charles Stevens, each with a chisel and hammer, rushed in to cut the chains of the prisoners.

"Mother! mother! where are you?" cried Charles.

He had to call several times before the frightened woman could answer.

Then from out the darkness there came a feeble response. He groped his way along in the darkness. He found a cell door, tore it open and reached her side.

At this moment some one lighted a torch within the jail. A scene, wild, weird and terrible burst upon their view. The prisoners were almost driven to madness by the sudden appearance of the savage and civilized liberators.

Charles Stevens, with chisel and hammer, quickly cut the chains of his mother and hastened to liberate Cora. Her father held the light, while he cut the iron band.

"Free! free!" cried the excited Charles. "Let us away before the town is roused!"

"No," answered Mr. George Waters; "not while a prisoner remains to suffer the wrath of prejudice."

Then with chisel and hammer he went from one to another and cut the iron bands which bound them.

Oracus and Henry Waters joined him in the work of liberation, until all were freed.

This required several moments of time, and the confusion and uproar which they were compelled to make was rousing the town.

Mr. Parris, half-dressed, ran barefoot through the town, waving his long arms in the air, and shouting that the fiends of the air had conspired to liberate the prisoners. His words and his wild, fanatical manner tended rather to increase the fear of the people of Salem, than diminish it. Then there went out the report through the village that the Indians had attacked the town, and the people, roused from their midnight slumbers, magnified the numbers of the a.s.sailants ten to one.

"Cora! Mother!" whispered Charles, "this way!"

He took a hand of each and started to run from the jail down the street.

Others followed.

"Fly! all of you! Fly for your lives!" cried Henry Waters, who, now that his work was done, flung aside his iron bar and sledge.

At a word of command from Oracus his warriors formed a hollow square about the escaping fugitives, and moved off as rapidly as they could.

Everybody was bewildered. Everybody running into the street was asking:

"What has happened? What has gone amiss?"

"They are rescuing the prisoners," shouted Mr. Parris, wildly. "Don't you see them hurrying away with them."

He ran to the sheriff and cried:

"Bestir yourself! Do you not see they are taking your prisoners away?"

"I have no deputies," answered the sheriff. "They number hundreds, and the Indians are with them."

"Nonsense! They are only disguised, and are not a dozen. Come! I will go with you."

Four or five by-standers, being thus emboldened, offered to go themselves and aid in recovering the prisoners.

"Come! I will lead you!" cried the eager preacher, allowing his zeal to overcome his discretion.