THE ALARM--THE MANUSCRIPT. The fountain gleamed beneath the beams of the Southern moon, gentle ripples stirred the waves on the lake below, and the soft breezes wafted sweetest perfumes through the splendid gardens of Colonel Mortimer. Spring had come--Spring more than beautiful in this tropical clime. Months had passed since last we saw Colonel Tompkins and his beautiful jailer, who now stand side by side by the splashing fountain. To him these months had seemed like a dream of heaven. Never did he believe that such surpassing happiness could fall to the lot of any human being. Even now, at times, it did not seem real. When he paused to reflect, he thought it must be some delightful dream, that would pass and take with it all the brightness of life. Could there be on the face of this earth a being so lovely; a mansion, a village, a country so perfectly delightful? Was it not some wild imagination of some artist, that had turned his brain? No, it was all real. Olivia was not paint and canvas, but flesh and blood; a living reality, though face and form were so beautiful; her voice was sweetest music, and her soul pure as her perfect face. Young as she was, Olivia had had many suitors, but the pale young officer from Virginia, with his handsome, melancholy face, had won her heart. Perhaps it was pity that first stirred her soul--pity for the poor prisoner so far from home and friends; pity for his former sufferings, and admiration for his brave record. He had apparently succeeded in overcoming the mood that had held him silent and abashed in her presence, for now, as they stand in the pale moonlight and listen to the murmuring fountain, which seems, like their own hearts, to overflow for very gladness, the arm of the young colonel in blue clasps the yielding form of his jailer, and it is he who speaks, and she who listens in silence. Darkness fell over the lake as they lingered. A light moved over the dark waters. The lovers saw it not. Another light and yet another appeared, first mere luminous points or stars, but gradually growing in size as they approached. No one, certainly not the inhabitants of Bay's End, would have dreamed of a floating battery of steamers crossing that shallow lake. For days the Union forces had been busy damming up all the outlets of the lake, and the water had been gradually rising, occasioning considerable comment among the inhabitants. Slowly the lights glided over the dark face of the waters. As they came nearer, they grew in size, and beneath them were defined the hulk of three monster gunboats, sweeping up towards the village. The sentry gave the alarm. Simultaneously with the alarm came a great blinding flash from one of the monsters of the water; then a ball of fire circled through the air, and an explosion shook the village to its centre. Another, another, and another shell, hurled from the gunboats, came curving through the air and exploded in the streets of the village.