“Hush, love, for my sake, for your child’s sake,” urged the lady in his ear, as her countenance became agonized. The voices without now grew so audible that words could be distinguished. The old man clasped his hands in resignation, and his half-parted lips murmured, “The Lord’s will be done!” Alice threw one arm around the neck of her husband, with a gesture of unutterable love as though she would shield him, and placed the other hand on his mouth, while she trembled in every limb. “The entrance of their asylum is well hidden,” said one of the voices. “It will be a day’s work to discover it.” “Let us spend the day at it then,” replied the other speaker, in a gruffer and harsher tone. “We will not give up the search until we find it.” And they seemed approaching the mouth of the cavern. A moment of intense and breathless anxiety to the inmates elapsed. They stood still and silent as the rocks around them, suspending every, even the slightest external motion, and would have ceased to breathe, had nature permitted such an intermission of her functions. More torturing their suspense than the long, lingering seconds in which a duellist beholds his adversary’s pistol wavering over his heart or brain. Their discovery seemed inevitable. In a few minutes, however, those outside passed on, and after a short time their voices grew fainter and fainter, until they were lost in the distance. “Seize the opportunity of escape ere their return,” said Alice, breaking the death-like stillness that had been preserved. “Quick father, William, the moments fly. Make your way toward the house of Mr. Elmore. I will linger here to baffle the inquiries of your pursuers.” “Come, my son,” said the old man, rising with a sudden energy. “The Lord has opened another door of salvation for us. Dost thou hear!” “Nay, I will not again fly for my wretched life,” said Heath. “I will passively await my fate.” “William, William,” exclaimed his wife, in an agony of heartfelt urgency and sweetness, “I pray you, by whatever is dear in our past association together—by all the claims, I will not say of the continued love you but this day professed for me, but by those of an affection on my part which would endure all things for your sake—to use the proper means for your preservation. Depart without delay;” and an expression of unanswerable entreaty beamed in the eye of the suppliant. “I will do aught that you ask, beloved one, even to the prolonging of my life of wretchedness,” rejoined her husband, as he imprinted a kiss on her brow, and drew her with him toward the door of the cave. “Let me be your guide,” said Stanley, advancing and addressing Heath. “It will be some small return for the service you have rendered me.” “I had almost forgotten, in my affliction, to see to you, kind youth. But you have slept long, and appear to be recovered.” “Thanks to you, sir, I am living and well,” answered the boy. “But time grows apace. Will you accept my services?”