"Gyp, my son, you and I have had many a frolic together, but we've got to part now! It almost breaks my heart, Gyp, but it is to save a fellow creature's life, and it can't be helped! He'll treat you well, for my sake, dear Gyp. Gyp, he'll part with his life sooner than sell you! Good-by, dear, dear Gyp." Gyp took all these caresses in a very nonchalant manner, only snorting and pawing in reply. Presently the boy came back, bringing the gig. Cap once more hugged Gyp about the neck, pressed her cheek against his mane, and with a whispered "Good-by, dear Gyp," sprang into the gig and ordered the boy to drive home. "An' leab the pony, miss?" "Oh, yes, for the present; everybody knows Gyp--no one will steal him. I have left him length of line enough to move around a little and eat grass, drink from the brook, or lie down. You can come after him early to-morrow morning." The little groom thought this a queer arrangement, but he was not in the habit of criticising his young mistress's actions. Capitola got home to a late supper and to the anxious inquiries of her friends she replied that she had been to the prison to take leave of Black Donald, and begged that they would not pursue so painful a subject. And, in respect to Cap's sympathies, they changed the conversation. * * * * * That night the remnant of Black Donald's band were assembled in their first old haunt, the Old Road Inn. They had met for a twofold purpose--to bury their old matron, Mother Raven, who, since the death of her patron and the apprehension of her captain, had returned to the inn to die--and to bewail the fate of their leader, whose execution was expected to come off the next day. The men laid the poor old woman in her woodland grave, and assembled in the kitchen to keep a death watch in sympathy with their "unfortunate" captain. They gathered around the table, and foaming mugs of ale were freely quaffed for "sorrow's dry," they said. But neither laugh, song nor jest attended their draughts. They were to keep that night's vigil in honor of their captain, and then were to disband and separate forever. Suddenly, in the midst of their heavy grief and utter silence a familiar sound was heard--a ringing footstep under the back windows. And every man leaped to his feet, with looks of wild delight and questioning. And the next instant the door was flung wide open, and the outlaw chief stood among them! Steve stopped rolling and curled himself around Black Donald's neck, exclaiming: "It's you--it's you--it's you!--my dear, my darling--my adored--my sweetheart--my prince!--my lord!--my king!--my dear, dear captain!" Steve, the lazy mulatto, rolled down upon the floor at his master's feet, and embraced him in silence. While Demon Dick growled forth: "How the foul fiend did you get out?" And the anxious faces of all the other men silently repeated the question.