Before any reply was made, there was a knock at the door, and Ratcliff was called out. In three minutes he returned, his face distorted with anger and excitement. “Gentlemen,” said he, “we are the victims of an infernal Yankee trick. I have reason to believe that Winslow, aided perhaps by other suspected parties, has made his escape this very night in a little steam-tug that has been lying for some days in the river, ready for a start.” “Which way has it gone?” asked Semmes. “Down the river. Probably to Pass à l’Outre.” “Telegraph to the forts to intercept her,” said Semmes. “A good idea!” exclaimed Ratcliff. “I’d do it at once.” He joined O’Gorman outside, and the next moment a carriage was heard rolling over the pavements. “Gentlemen,” said Robson, “if we expect to see any of the parties we have summoned here to-night, there is something so touching and amiable in our credulity that I grieve to harshly dispel it. But let me say that Mr. Kenrick would see us all in the profoundest depths before he would put himself in our power or acknowledge our jurisdiction; Mr. Vance can keep his own counsel and will not brook dictation, or I’m no judge of physiognomy; Captain Onslow has a foolish sensitiveness which leads him to resent murder and outrage when practised against his own family; and as for old Winslow, he hasn’t lived seventy years not to know better than to place himself within reach of a tiger’s claws. I think we may as well adjourn, and muse over the mutability of human affairs.” Before Robson’s proposition was carried into effect, an errand-boy from the telegraph-office brought Semmes this letter:— “The scoundrels have cut the telegraph wires, and we can’t communicate with the forts. I leave here at once to engage a boat for the pursuit. Shall go in her myself. You must do this one thing for me without fail: Take up your abode at once, this very night, in my house, and stay there till I come back. Use every possible precaution to prevent another escape of that young person of whom I spoke to you. Do not let her move a step out of doors without you or your agents know precisely where she is. I shall hold you responsible for her security. I may not be back for a day or two, in which case you must have my wife’s interment properly attended to. “Yours, RATCLIFF.” “I agree with Mr. Robson,” said Semmes, “that we may as well adjourn. The telegraph wires are cut, and I should not wonder if all the summoned parties were among the fugitives. Ratcliff pursues.” The select assemblage broke up, and above the curses, freely uttered, rang the sardonic laugh of Robson. “Two to one that Ratcliff doesn’t catch them!” said he; but no one took up the bet, though it should be remembered, in defence of Wigman and Sanderson, that they were too busy in the liquor-closet to heed the offer.