e the place unmolested.

It is quite certain the ferryman made no objection to my crossing, and
I went to Belvidere where I remained quietly till the appointed Thursday
night, when I started with a trusty man for Scheimer's. We timed our
journey so as to arrive there at one o'clock in the morning. Ever since
her attempt to elope, Sarah had been watched night and day, and to
prevent her abduction by me, Mr. Scheimer had two or three men in the
house to stand guard at night. Sarah was locked in her room, which is
precisely what we had provided for, for no one in the house supposed
that she could escape by the window. There was a big dog on the
premises, but he and I were old friends, and he seemed very glad to see
me when I came on the ground on this eventful night. Sarah was watching,
and when I made the signal she opened the window and threw out her ready
prepared bundle. Then my man and I set the ladder and she came safely
to the ground. A moment more and we would have stolen away, when, as ill
luck would have it, the ladder fell with a great crash, and the infernal
dog, that a moment before seemed almost in our confidence, set up a howl
and then barked loud enough to wake the dead.

Forthwith issued from the house old Scheimer, two of his sons and his
hired guard--a half dozen in all. There was a time then. The girl was
instantly seized and taken into the house. Then all hands fell upon us
two, and though I and my man fought our best they managed to pound us
nearly to death. The dog, too, in revenge no doubt for the scare the
ladder had given him, or perhaps to show his loyalty to his master,
assisted in routing us, and put in a bite where he could. It is a wonder
we were not killed. Sarah, meanwhile, was calling out from the house,
and imploring them not to murder us. How we ever got away I hardly know
now, but presently we found ourselves in the road running for our lives,
and running also for the carriage we had concealed in the woods, half
a mile above. We reached it, and hastily unhitching and getting in we
drove rapidly for the bridge crossing over to Belvidere. That beautiful
August night had very few charms for us. It would have been different
indeed if I had succeeded in securing my Sarah; and to think of having
the prize in my very grasp, and the losing all!

We reached the hotel in Belvidere at about half-past two o'clock in
the morning, wearied, worn, bruised and disheartened. My man had not
suffered nea