When the captain had ceased speaking, a deep silence fell upon the group of waiting men, and so deep did it seem in the stillness of the night and the great loneliness of the spot, that the listener, crouched in the shadows above, was almost won to the belief that the loud beatings of her heart, or her stifled breathing, would be heard by those gathered below, and her hiding-place revealed. The captain waited expectantly, looking closely from one face to another, noting keenly and exultantly the dawning of distrust and fear that slowly overspread each countenance, as troubled waters communicate their motion until the whole silent pool is disturbed; then he spoke again, slowly, deliberately: "The case is in your hands, comrades! We have a common interest in the protection of our liberty an' ourselves. Shall it be freedom for him, or imprisonment for us? What shall be done?" "Draw for the red bean!" a voice called out sharply and discordantly. It was Steve Judson who spoke. "Yes! yes! the red bean!" a chorus of voices clamored, quickly seizing the suggestion as a solution of the problem confronting them. A look of approval came to the captain's face, while his eyes flashed forth a malignant triumph. "You shall draw for it," he answers briefly, taking from his pocket a small leathern pouch, which he shook vigorously, then untied and opened. "Draw!" he commanded, holding out the pouch to the man nearest him. The raider hesitated a moment, then put his thumb and forefinger into the pouch and drew forth a bean, which he concealed within the palm of his hand without a glance at it. Stepping aside, the first man gave way to another member of the band, and thus in succession the drawing continued until each raider, save the prisoner, had drawn from out the leathern pouch a bean, and held it within the hollow of his hand, while neither he nor his neighbor knew whether it was a bean of white, or the fatal one of red that had been drawn. Steve was the last to draw. As he stepped forward, no one saw the captain slightly relax the fingers of the hand holding the pouch, nor suspected that the small object they had retained until this moment was covertly released and dropped to the bottom of the pouch as it was held out to Steve. "Hands up! your oath!" Each man obeyed, the last man to draw holding his left hand aloft as his right was in a sling. Thus, with hand upraised, every man swore to a strict performance of his duty, taking upon himself the oath that if he held the red bean he would visit upon the traitor wherever found, whoever he might be, the punishment that a traitor's act justly merited, or that having failed in his oath, the same judgment he had withheld might be visited on himself who had foresworn his oath. Then each man came singly before the captain, and opened the palm of the hand that both might know who held the fatal red bean.