AFTER two days spent in the cabin, Nettleton became excessively uneasy. From something which had transpired, he conceived that old Madge knew more of Walker’s whereabouts than she had yet confessed. This conviction, once formed, was but the prelude to action. Without informing any one of his purpose, he followed the old woman into the woods—whither she went in pursuit of her medicaments—having in his hands a stout rope. In a wild, retired spot, he confronted her. “Look here, old critter, you’re close-mouthed, when it would be better for your health to talk a little. Now, you jist tell me where Captain Walker has taken Miss Mamie. Talk straight, and not a gap in the fence.” “I don’t know where he has gone,” she answered, rather evasively. “That is, you are a nat’ral-born know-nothing. Well, it will assist your memory, perhaps, to stretch your neck a little, jist to take the kinks out, you know; so pass your shock of tow into this ’ere noose, while I pull you up on that limb.” And suiting the action to the word he flung the noose dextrously over her head. She was taken by surprise, and trembling in every limb, asked: “Would you hang me?” “Sartain as there’s a tree and here’s a rope.” “I don’t know where Walker is, but I think he has a place of refuge down the river, near the Ghost Swamp. There is a cave in the river’s bank, opposite to the swamp, where I know his confederates occasionally secrete themselves. He may have gone there; but, as he has been gone over two days, I don’t see why he should be there now. It is my opinion, however, that Miss Mamie, as you call her, is there, as it is the best place to keep her.” “Ah, thank you, old Mrs. Crow’s-foot. There is something more on your mind, isn’t there?” Madge looked at him inquiringly. “I know all about your friend’s visit; so do you jist play your cards right, or I’ll catch ye niggin.” This allusion to her “friend” startled the old woman. “He was no friend of mine; he came along on his own account, and I only gave him bread, as I give any one who is hungry.” “All right; only, what did he tell you?” She hesitated. Nettleton gave the rope a twitch, and looked up at the limb. The hint was enough. “The man said he was up from below on a scout. He was anxious to know what I knew about the voice of a woman which he said had been heard all along the river. He heard it distinctly as he passed the road along the river by the Ghost Swamp; others had heard it, and he believed that I could tell him as to its meaning. I told him it was a sign that he was singled out for death—that every person who heard it was called, and he might, therefore, make up his mind that his time was come. With that he left. I did not inform him of who was in my cabin, nor any thing about what had happened here. So I hope you will let me go, and frighten me no more.”