“Meg will trust you. She had boys once herself, but they died and it broke her heart, and then they put her in a cruel asylum. But--ha! ha! Meg will raise an army to batter down its walls. She has her captain now.” She took up and lit a pine knot, and bade her companions follow her, leading the way through a dark, underground corridor. Finally it widened, and here, to the amazement of the boys were evidences of living, for several articles of furniture and a lot of food on a table showed. Piled around, too, were various articles, evidently the result of Meg’s predatory raids on farmhouses. At one side was a small aperture in the rock, and chained to a ring in the solid stone was a man laying asleep. “Come on! come on!” cried Meg excitedly. “Meg did not mean that you should see her captain. Come, hasten!” Dean Mercer obeyed readily enough, but Marcus Ellison was startled. He had recognized the man chained to the rock, and the fact had been a terrible revelation to him. They finally reached an opening some distance on. “You are now far away from the bad men,” said Meg. “Promise not to betray her secrets.” “I promise,” said Marcus. “Can I say a word to you, Meg?” “What is it?” “Those bad men locked this boy up in a jail.” “Bad, bad. Bars, too?” “Yes; in a dark, cold cell.” Meg shuddered. “They stole all his money--the money you got. He dare not go home to his family; he will be put in jail again because he cannot get the money.” The simple words seemed to affect Meg deeply. She was silent for several moments. “Are you trying to deceive Meg?” she said. “No.” “It is his money?” “Yes, and there were some papers,” continued Marcus earnestly. “Meg, I know your captain; he is a bad man.” “But strong, and he would kill the asylum men quick.” “No, he would kill you, Meg. You know all about him. You know his secret. You know who killed James Conroyd. My father, Robert Ellison, is accused of the crime. I am his son. Won’t you help me?” Dean Mercer stared at Marcus in blank bewilderment. The scene mystified him. Marcus had seized the mad woman’s hand and his tears fell upon it. That wild face softened. Meg seemed battling with strange emotions. “Boy,” she said finally, “look around you.” “Yes, Meg.” “Would you know this place again?” “Yes.” “Come here to-night at dusk.” “I will--I will!” “Then, when Meg has talked with the witches she will see, she will see. Now, go.” The boys walked from the spot. “Marcus,” cried Dean, “for Mercy’s sake, what did all your wild talk mean?” “About my father?” “Yes.” “The truth.” “Meg knows all about James Conroyd’s murder?” “I am sure of it.” “Why?” “Because that prisoner of hers--her captain, she calls him----” “Yes, yes?” “Is James Conroyd’s old hired man, Manseur, and his murderer.” The minute the two boys were gone the demented woman began feeling in a cranny in the rock near the exit from the cave.