ell for the lieutenant that
Carl had irons on his wrists.

The sound of the poor old man's groans,--the sight of his gashed,
oozing, and inflamed back, bared again to the whip,--was to Carl
unendurable. But as it was not in his power to obey the impulse of his
soul, to spring for a musket and slay that monster of cruelty, Ropes, on
the spot,--he must try other means, perhaps equally unwise and
desperate, to save Toby from torture.

"Vait, sir, if you please, vun leetle moment," he called out to Silas.
"I have a vord or two to shpeak."

He had as yet, however, scarcely made up his mind what to propose. A
moment's reflection convinced him that only one thing could purchase
Toby's reprieve; and perhaps even that would fail. Regardless of
consequences to himself, he resolved to try it.

"I know petter as he does about the cave; I vos there," he cried out,
boldly.

"Hey? You offer yourself to be whipped in this old nigger's place?" said
Ropes.

"Not wery much," replied Carl. "I can go mit you or anypody you vill
send, and show vair the cave is. I remember. But if you vill have me
whipped, I shouldn't be wery much surprised if that vould make me to
forget. Whippins," he added, significantly, "is wery pad for the
memory."

"You mean to say, if you are licked, then you won't tell?"

"That ish the idea I vished to conwey."

"We'll see about that." Silas laughed. "In the mean time we'll try what
can be got out of this nigger."

Toby, who had had a gleam of hope, now fell again into despair. Just
then Captain Sprowl came in.

"Hold! What are you doing with that nigger?"

Silas explained, and Carl repeated his proposal. Lysander caught eagerly
at it. He remembered Salina's warning, and was glad of any excuse to
liberate the old negro.

"You promise to take me to the cave?" Carl assented. "Why, then,
lieutenant, that's all we want, and I order this boy to be set free."

"This boy" was Toby, who was accordingly let off, to his own
inexpressible joy and Ropes's infinite disgust.

"If Carl he take de responsumbility to show de cave, dat ain't my fault.
'Sides, dat boy am bright, he am; de secesh can't git much de start o'
him!"

Thus the old negro congratulated himself on his way home. At the same
time Carl, still in irons, was saying to himself,--

"So far so goot. If they had whipped Toby, two things vould be wery
pad--the whipping, for one, and he would have told, for another. But I
have made vun promise. It