“I will not deny the fact that solicitude for Miss Hayward impels the act. But of this no more. Lieutenant Wells, you are unbound and unwatched. Place your sash across your breast, as worn by the officer of the day. I will give you the counter-sign, and thus you will be enabled to pass the pickets, and make good your escape. You can secure a safe retreat, and, after the excitement of the mur—of this unfortunate affair—has died away, Miss Hayward can be apprised of your place of concealment, and take such action in the case as her judgment or heart may dictate.” A deathlike silence reigned for a moment, during which rapid glances were exchanged between the friends. At length Wells asked: “Captain Walker, would not an escape imply, upon my part, an acknowledgment of the crime of which I am accused?” “It might, in the estimation of many. But, you are generally believed guilty. What matters it what your actions imply to _them_? Your friends here, who have already made up their minds, will merely look upon it as a desire upon your part to escape a certain, an unmerited, and a dishonorable death.” “And you will assist my flight?” “I will.” “And will you afterward convey Miss Hayward to me if she will come?” “With pleasure; you but anticipate my intended services.” Another rapid and significant glance passed between Mrs. Hinton and Wells, which was not observed by Walker. “One thing more, Walker: do _you_ believe me guilty of murder?” “H’m—I _did_.” “And _now_?” “I _may_ have been mistaken. But, be that as it may, I will assist your flight.” “Are you ready?” asked Wells, rising. “I wish you to return to your cell, and when all is ready, say _two or three o’clock_, I will come for you.” “But I will not go!” was the firm reply. Walker perceived his mistake, and quickly added: “As you please, sir.” And turning, he was about to leave the tent, when he was confronted by the “officer of the day.” “Captain Walker,” he said, sternly, “you feel an especial interest in Lieutenant Wells. I did not suppose so, but learned the fact from your conversation. I am glad you _do_ feel so great a friendship for him. You shall have opportunity to make it manifest. You shall become his Pythias!” “What do you mean, sir?” “This: that the sentence of Lieutenant Wells will be read to-morrow afternoon at four o’clock. In the mean time, you, as his dear friend, do not wish to see him confined, and will most cheerfully take his place in the prison, and wear his chains. If the lieutenant is _present_ to-morrow at four, you, as his hostage, will be released. If he should escape, as you have advised, of course you will be held as an aider and abettor in that escape; and when you receive that punishment your guilt deserves, you will have the consolation of knowing that you suffer for the benefit of your very dear friend! Soldiers,” commanded the officer, “place the irons upon Captain Walker, and convey him to the guard-room in the old log-building.”