he horrible sight of a savage face at the hole. This apprehension soon
became so intense, that she looked about her for a place of concealment.
The procrastination of the catastrophe she now fully expected, though
it were only for a moment, afforded a relief. The room contained several
barrels; and behind two of these Mabel crouched, placing her eyes at an
opening by which she could still watch the trap. She made another effort
to pray; but the moment was too horrible for that relief. She thought,
too, that she heard a low rustling, as if one were ascending the lower
ladder with an effort at caution so great as to betray itself by its own
excess; then followed a creaking that she was certain came from one of
the steps of the ladder, which had made the same noise under her own
light weight as she ascended. This was one of those instants into which
are compressed the sensations of years of ordinary existence. Life,
death, eternity, and extreme bodily pain were all standing out in bold
relief from the plane of every-day occurrences; and she might have been
taken at that moment for a beautiful pallid representation of herself,
equally without motion and without vitality. But while such was the
outward appearance of the form, never had there been a time in her brief
career when Mabel heard more acutely, saw more clearly, or felt more
vividly. As yet, nothing was visible at the trap, but her ears, rendered
exquisitely sensitive by intense feeling, distinctly acquainted her
that some one was within a few inches of the opening in the floor. Next
followed the evidence of her eyes, which beheld the dark hair of an
Indian rising so slowly through the passage that the movements of the
head might be likened to that of the minute-hand of a clock; then came
the dark skin and wild features, until the whole of the swarthy face had
risen above the floor. The human countenance seldom appears to advantage
when partially concealed; and Mabel imagined many additional horrors as
she first saw the black, roving eyes and the expression of wildness as
the savage countenance was revealed, as it might be, inch by inch; but
when the entire head was raised above the floor, a second and a better
look assured our heroine that she saw the gentle, anxious, and even
handsome face of June.

CHAPTER XXII.

Spectre though I be,
I am not sent to scare thee or deceive;
But in reward of thy fidelity.
WORDSWORTH.

It would be diffi