“I advise yer not ter pry into that,” David said, at length, in a decided manner; “ye’ll find out soon enough about it. Ye may think ye’re safe, now ye’ve got us two; I hope ye do; but ye kin remember what I told ye, an’ when yer last hour’s come, I hope ye’ll find yer conscience free, and go without any sorrow for what ye’ve done.” The renegade turned and walked away, for he could not bear to hear such language, it touched him in a vulnerable spot. He came back, however, and added, in a tone of intense determination: “Ye kin have the rest o’ the night to say yer prayers in; for when the sun gits up to-morrow mornin’, ye’ll come out, Davy Barring, and ye never’ll see that sun set again.” Going to the door he called two of the Indian guards within, bidding them to keep a strict watch over the prisoners till morning. * * * * * Morning came at length. The prisoners had conversed most of the night, having slept but very little after the departure of Ashbey. A commotion without the door was audible, and each looked with expectation. “Are they coming?” asked Alfred, apprehensively. “So it seems,” replied the scout. “I suppose they think I have lived long enough, and if it must come, I know not that it matters how soon.” “Oh, my friend!” Alfred began, but his emotion choked him, and he could proceed no further. “Be a man!” the scout returned. “If they are ready for me, I am prepared. Keep up courage; I may sarcumvent the serpents after all.” The door was now opened, and two braves entered. Without a word they grasped the scout by the arms, and led him forth. The braves who had remained within followed; the door was shut and barred. Alfred was left alone to his own gloomy thoughts and fears. It cost the scout an effort to maintain his composure, but he looked calmly around upon the crowd of exulting savages. David’s first thought was of the renegade, and he looked around to find him. He stood a little apart from the tawny throng, his arms folded, and a look of fiendish pleasure upon his features. He muttered a few words in the Indian tongue as the party passed him, and David was taken at once to the place of torture—the open place in front of the renegade’s cabin. As usual, the gauntlet was first to be run. At a word from the renegade, the party formed themselves in two lines, prepared to shower vengeance upon the head and shoulders of the doomed scout. Two guards held him firmly by the arms, while a third proceeded to cut the bonds which held his hands. “Now or never,” thought the scout, as his arms fell by his side. David had noted carefully his surroundings. All had dropped their guns, save the two guards, who now held his arms. The nearest building was distant nearly twenty paces. If he could reach that, he might, under its cover, gain the forest, when he would care little for those who might pursue.