"The
king put his arms around Winnsome and--she struck him!"
"That was all?"
"He kissed her as she fought--and I yelled."
"She struck him!" Neil cried. "God bless little Winnsome, Nat! and--God
bless her!"
Neil's breath came fast as he caught the other's hand.
"I'd give my life if I could help you--and Marion!"
"We'll give them together," said Nathaniel coolly, turning down the
corridor. "Here's our chance. They'll come through that door to relock
us in our cell. Shall we die fighting?"
He was groping about in the mud of the floor for some object.
"If we had a couple of stones--"
"It would be madness--worse than madness!" interposed Neil, steadying
himself. "There will be a dozen rifles at that door when they open it.
We must return to the cell. It is worth dying a harder death to hear
from Marion and Winnsome. And we will hear from them before night!"
They retreated into the dungeon. A few minutes later the door opened
cautiously at the head of the corridor. A light blazed through the
blackness and after an interval of silence the jailer made his
appearance in front of the cell, a pistol in his hand.
"Don't be afraid, Jeekum," said Neil reassuringly. "You forgot the door
and we've been having a little fun with the jury. That's all!"
The nervous whiteness left Jeekum's face at this cheerful report and he
was about to close the door when Nathaniel exhibited a handful of gold
pieces in the candle-light and frantically beckoned the man to come in.
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