The majority of the court having triumphed in the first matter, the question was again raised as to the manner of his death, and Bacon's countenance was actually lit up by a smile when he heard the decision of the court in favour of his own request, that he might die the death of a soldier. The guard were at the moment leading him from the court room to his prison house, and his step became more firm and elastic, and he could now look upon the wretched spectacle in the court, without the same degree of horror which he had before evinced. When he had marched several paces in his progress round the mansion, he halted suddenly and wheeled round to survey the dormer windows peering through the roof, as was the fashion with the long low houses of the time. His eye rested from its piercing and steady gaze, in sadness and disappointment, and he threw down his chained hands with a violent motion, as he resumed his march between the soldiers. They conducted him to the door of a cellar at the end of the house, which was secured with double defences; in the next moment he was rudely thrust into a damp cellar, without a ray of light, and the door was closed and securely bolted. CHAPTER X. Bacon heard the rusty bolt shoot into its socket, and then the hasping and locking of the outside door, with a sensation of utter hopelessness. He wandered through the dark precincts of his prison, stumbling now over an old barrel, and anon against a meat block, until he came to some dry bundles of fodder, which seemed to have been spread out in one corner to answer the purpose of a bed. Before throwing himself upon this rude couch, he resolved to examine the structure of his cell. By passing his hands along the walls, he found that they were built of brick, well cemented by a long process of time--that the summit upon which the basement beams of the frame rested, were entirely out of his reach, and that in the present confined state of his hands, it would be impossible for him to make any impression on them, and he could distinctly hear the tramp of more than one sentinel, as they paced their monotonous rounds about that wing of the building. There was yet much of the day remaining, and he resolved to spend it in endeavouring to grind off the end of the rivets to the iron bands enclosing his wrists. By rubbing these against the bricks, he found that he could wear them away by a tedious and laborious process. Our hero was not one of those who surrender themselves up to despondency at the first appearance of insurmountable difficulties; decision of character was his most striking quality, and he knew that his devoted army only waited for him to lead them to avenge his wrongs. He felt the difficulties which lay between him and Jamestown, but he did not despair, however desperate his circumstances. For many hours he persevered in grinding the rivets against the bricks; with wrenching and great danger of dislocating his