attempts to rise, but in his effort to do this, the blood gushed in a torrent from his lungs. He believes that he has killed the wretched being beside him, and that he himself is parting with life. His reason is bright as ever--he takes up the trunk, and creeping as he best can, leaves the road, hoping to reach a hut which he knows is near by, deliver his charge, and then die, if so it must be. But his strength is less than he supposes--he can drag his trembling body but a short distance. Gradually his powers depart--a strange and dreamy sleep comes over him, and soon all earthly sounds and sense of earthly care are gone; and there he lies, still clenching the object for which he struggled so desperately. Scarcely had this scene transpired when the companions of the wretched being who lay stretched upon the highway came hurrying along; their horse started from the track. Casting their eyes at the object that had caused it, they both sprang to the earth, examined a moment to ascertain who and what it was, and then looking at each other, simultaneously uttered a horrid oath. But there was no time to loiter; the body must not be there to tell a tale. 'He's dead, Dick; so let's throw him across the horse and be off.' 'He's dead enough, Jo; but where is the trunk? we can't go without that. We had better not meet the old man, if that is gone.' Uttering all kinds of imprecations on their own souls for having had anything to do with the business, and wishing old Cross all manner of evil, as they groped about in vain for the prolific cause of all this mischief, in utter desperation they caught hold of the body: a groan caused them to drop it instantly-- 'Ned, are you alive? Can you tell us where the trunk is?' There was no reply; but the body was warm, and of course life was in it. How to proceed they knew not; and their guilty consciences urged them to do something with speed. In their dilemma, they sent forth again on the still night-air curses too profane for human ears; the light, too, of that foul deed they had committed was growing brighter and brighter; far over the murky sky it spread, and its blood-red glare came down upon them, exposing to their strained eyes the first tokens of the avenger's rod. At length, in their desperation, they determined to place the wounded and dying man astride the horse, between them. It was no easy matter to accomplish this, and more than one groan escaped the sufferer; but the strait they were in was urgent; they could not be deterred by trifles.