p," thought Scarlett; and in an instant he had seized
the table to drag it away, when a loud sound from the adjoining chamber
made him drop down on his hands and knees, in the expectation of a
bullet from a petronel.

The sound he had heard was that of a man leaping from his bed. Then
there were the dull soft steps of stockinged feet, and he could hear the
second officer enter the room.

"What's the matter?" he said, as he advanced toward the bed where his
companion lay.

"Left troop to the front!" came from the bed.

"Poor old fellow!" muttered the second officer. "He cannot even keep
this weary work out of his sleep."

Scarlett heard him walk back to the inner room, and as soon as he felt
that the door was passed, he began to feel for the second obstacle
between him and liberty.

For a few moments he could not make out what it was. He tried softly to
left and right, but there was nothing. All he could detect was that the
end of the long table was against the door, and then as he rose and
stretched his hand across it, he discovered at once what it was--nothing
but a heavy oaken chest, which had been lifted up and stood upon the
table, to give it weight.

Meanwhile, he could hear every movement of the occupant of the inner
chamber, and a dull feeling of despair came upon him, as he knew that to
attempt to stir the table, heavily laden as it was, would make so much
noise that he would be detected.

"But could I get through in time to reach the stair?" he thought.

Impossible! He would be heard by the officer, and probably by the
sentinel in the hall, and with his heart sinking, he determined to make
for the window, and drop down from there.

The casement was still open, and crossing softly, he cautiously looked
out, to find that a couple of sentinels were marching to and fro to meet
every minute just beneath the spot where he stood.

"No," he said to himself, "there is but one road;" and going back to the
table, he nerved himself for the effort, and began to draw it softly
away by almost imperceptible degrees.

Fortunately for him, the floor by the door was covered by a thick rug,
over which the table began to move; but, to Scarlett's horror, it had
not passed a couple of inches before there was a sharp crack.

An impatient movement came from the far room, and Scarlett knew as well
as if he were present in the broad daylight, that the officer had
started up and was listening; but, fortunately at that