f. Should he slip over and warn
Jack? He was moving toward the door, when, through the stillness of the
night, a sound came up from the direction of the quarters. He ran
lightly to the window again. His eyes, now accustomed to the darkness in
his room, distinguished clearly in the pale starlight. He thrilled with
a sudden sensation of choking. Yonder, stealing houseward from the
rose-gardens, he could plainly discern two--four--six--moving figures.
Heavens, the slaves were out! There was to be a servile uprising. Now he
must go and warn Jack; but he must note first whither the assassins were
directing their attack. Perhaps, with the aid of Jack's pistols, they
could be frightened away by a few shots from the windows. He ran
noiselessly to Jack's room, to his bed, and whispered in his
sleeping ear:

"Jack, make no noise; dress yourself and come. The negroes are
surrounding the house, and Wesley is in mischief."

Jack was awake and in his clothes in a few seconds. He handed Dick one
of the pistols, and, armed with the other, hastened toward Wesley's
room. The door was open and all was silent. Dick looked in hastily,
marked the open window, and exclaimed:

"He is gone! Come to my room. I know exactly where to locate them from
my window; it is nearer the point they halted at than Wesley's."

Yes; figures were moving swiftly against the trellised walls that led to
the kitchen. They moved, too, with the precision of people thoroughly
acquainted with the place. Then some one appeared swiftly from under the
shadow of the house; then three came toward it and passed under the
veranda near Wesley's window. Jack leaned far out to discover what this
diversion meant. At the same instant the sounding gallopade of hoofs
came from the tranquil roadway leading to the stables. The shrill whinny
of horses broke on the air.

"They are mounted. There are a score of them!" Jack cried, desperately.
"We can at least keep them out of the house."

"We can, if Wesley hasn't opened the doors to them," Dick said,
shrewdly.

"That's a fact. But is it sure Wesley is not in his room? Bring matches
and let us examine it."

There was no sign of Wesley in the room. The cool night air poured in
from the open window.

"Draw the curtain before you strike the match," Jack whispered. "We must
not let a light be seen from the outside."

"But the curtains are thin, the light will shine through."

"Sh! Come here. By Heaven, it is Wesley, and he is d