e taken away from them alive. It
is no use, father, to try that. But"--and here he bent his head
forward--"if I could free my hands I would make a dash--and be shot. I
swear I shall never be hanged. Father, where is Em? I would like to see
her before I go."

"She runned away, boy," said the old man, brokenly, and speaking in
English; "runned away, jes' as soon as she heerd the firin'. She went
to look for you, Jim. Heaven help the gal, Jim, when she comes back an'
finds you gone."

For a little while longer they talked, and then Lieutenant Fenton came
toward them, and Adams, at a sign from his superior, took the old trader
by the arm, and with rough kindness forced him away from his son.

Suddenly, however, he dashed the seaman aside and sprang toward his son,
but, strong and active as he was, he was no match for a man like Adams,
who threw his arms around him and held him in a vice-like grip.

"That will do, mister," said old Jack, quietly. "I reckon I give in. Th'
boy has got to go--an' thet's all about it, an' I ain't agoin' to try
an' stop you from takin' him."

And then as the blue-jackets closed around him, Jim Swain turned.

"Goodbye, dad, and say goodbye to Em for me."

"Poor old man!" said Fenton to himself, as the party marched along the
narrow, sandy track. "Hang me, if I wouldn't be pleased to see the fellow
escape."

*****

The four men who were left in charge of the boat had sprung to their
arms the moment they heard the sound of the firing, and for some time
they scanned the dark outline of the shore with intense anxiety.

"I guess it's all right," said one of them at last. "I only heard three
or four shots. Hullo! here they come along the beach. Shove in."

Tramp, tramp, along the hard sand the landing party marched, and a
seaman in the boat, picking up a lantern, held it up to guide them.

Two hundred yards behind was Ema Swain, striving hard to catch up with
them and see her brother for the last time in this world, she thought.

IV.

"Lift him in carefully," said Lieutenant Fenton, as the boat's bows
touched the beach; "he seems pretty weak."

"Thank you, sir!" and the prisoner turned his dark eyes upon the
officer. "I am nearly dropping. I got a hard hit in the chest with a
musket butt from one of your men, sir."

A couple of men lifted him in, and then as soon as the rest of his
people had taken their places the lieutenant followed.

"Push off, Gates."

As the heavy boat