_The Prisoners--Brutality--The Attendant--The Letter--Discovery._ What bloody man is that? He can report As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt The newest state.--_Shakespeare._ As Branch saw the prostrate form of Hayward upon the ground, he cried: "By heavens, it is the very man we want--it is Captain Hayward!" "Ride over his body--trample him into the earth!" shouted one of the infuriated soldiers. "No! no!" shrieked Branch. "If he yet lives he must be reserved for torture! It is our general's command. Let no one dare to disobey it. Ah! the fiends befriend me! There is Alibamo, and her horse has fallen!" This was indeed true. In her haste as she dashed down the steep toward the river, the horse of Alibamo had missed his footing, and fallen, throwing its fair rider violently to the ground. It was but an instant before he was again upon his feet, but before Alibamo could regain her seat, her persecutor had seized her. "Ah! my fair beauty," he cried, "I have you once more in my grasp. And now revenge will be a thousand times sweeter. Look there!" he cried, as he dragged the helpless girl forward. "Look upon your would-be rescuer! It is a glorious spectacle, is it not?" "Dead! dead!" sobbed the maiden. "Ah! you weep for him, do you? No doubt you love him very dearly! But he is _not_ dead, and I would not have him dead for millions! It was a game well played, and worthy of your lover, the gallant Captain Hayward. But he did not win the game. _I_ held the trump card, and I will show him how I won, and _why_ I won, when he recovers!" "What would you do?" "What would I do? _You_ shall see. First I will let him return to consciousness, and then I'll tear him limb from limb--hack him to pieces--tear out that heart you love so much, and give it to you still beating with life, and dripping with his blood. You shall wear it ever before you, and it will be a reminder of my generosity!" "Oh! fiend! fiend!" groaned Alibamo. "Oh! yes! You have called me fiend a hundred times, and now you shall learn that I am one, indeed. Shout, boys! shout! We are victorious! Dance--dance--hold your revels over that form! But do not harm it more now. I would have him _all_ to myself. And I'll pray that he may have a thousand lives!" The rebels readily obeyed the command of Branch, and commenced their howlings. "Hark to that music, Alibamo. It is our notes of victory. Do you not love those sounds?" "They become only such as you. The most barbarous savage would scorn to exult thus over a single fallen foe!" said Alibamo, her eyes flashing with indignation. "Oh! taunt! I love to hear it. It makes my hatred for your captain deeper. And for every word of insult you have spoken, or do speak to me, I'll revenge myself on him. And you shall see it all. See, he moves--he opens his eyes! Let him gaze around." "Harry! Harry!" called Hayward in a faint voice.