d on the bolt, but could not, for a long time,
summon resolution to open it.

As he hesitated, there came a loud thump on one of the panels which
nearly crushed it in, and filled the hollow building with ominous
echoes.

"Make ready in thar, you hound of a abolitionist!" shouted a brutal
voice; "we're about ready fur ye!" Penn's hand drew back. I dare say it
trembled, I dare say his face turned white again, as he felt the danger
so near. How could he confront, with his sensitive spirit, those
merciless, coarse men?

"I'll wait a little," he thought within himself. "Perhaps Carl _will_
bring help."

There were good sturdy Unionists in the place, men who, unlike the
Pennsylvania schoolmaster, believed in opposing evil with evil, force by
force. Only last night, one of them entered this very school-room,
bolted the door carefully, and sat down to unfold to the young master a
scheme for resisting the plans of the secessionists. It was a league for
circumventing treason; for keeping Tennessee in the Union; for
preserving their homes and families from the horrors of the impending
civil war. The conspirators had arms concealed; they met in secret
places; they were watching for the hour to strike. Would the
schoolmaster join them? Strange to say, they believed in him as a man
who had abilities as a leader, "an undeveloped fighting man"--he, Penn
Hapgood, the Quaker! Penn smiled, as he declined the farmer's offer of a
commission in the secret militia, and refused to accept the weapon of
self-defence which the same earnest Unionist had proffered him again,
through Carl, the German boy, this night.

Penn thought of these men now, and hoped that Carl would haste and bring
them to the rescue. Then immediately he blushed at his own cowardly
inconsistency; for something in his heart said that he ought not to wish
others to do for him what he had conscientious scruples against doing
for himself.

"I'll go out!" he said, sternly, to his trembling heart.

But he would first make a reconnoissance through the keyhole. He looked,
and saw one ruffian stirring the fire under the tar kettle, another
displaying a rope, and two others alternately drinking from a bottle. He
started back, as the thundering on the panel was repeated, and the same
voice roared out, "You kin be takin' off them clo'es of yourn; the tar
is about het!"

"I'll wait a few minutes longer for Carl!" said Penn to himself, with a
long breath.

Unfortunately, Carl