A Continuation Of The Last Chapter

A YEAR and two months have rolled by, since Nicholas, a convict, took up his abode within the frowning walls of a prison: thus much of Fuddle's merciful sentence has he served out. In the dreary hours of night, fast secured in his granite cell, has he cherished, and even in his dreams contemplated, the means of escaping into that freedom for which his soul yearns. But, dearly does he love Sal Stiles, to whose keeping he confides the secret of his ambition; several times might he, having secured the confidence of Fladge, have effected his own escape; but the admonitions of a faithful heart bid him not leave her behind in slavery. To that admonition of his bosom did he yield, and resolve never to leave her until he secured her freedom. A few days after he had disclosed to her his resolution, the tall figure of Guy Grantham, a broker of slaves by profession, appeared in the prison yard, for the purpose of carrying away the woman, whom he had sold for the Washington market, where her charms would indeed be of much value during the session, when congress-men most do riot. Already were the inseparable chains about her hands, and the miserable woman, about to be led away, bathed in grief. Nicholas, in his studies, had just finished a piece of scroll-work for Mrs. Fladge, as a companion approached him in great haste, and whispered the word of trouble-"they're taking her away"-in his ear. Quick as lightning did the anger of his very soul break forth like a tempest: he rushed from his place of labour, vaulted as it were to the guard gate, seized the woman as she stepped on the threshold in her exit, drew her back with great force, and in a defiant attitude, drawing a long stiletto from his belt, placed himself between her and her destroyer. "Foes of the innocent, your chains were not made for this woman; never shall you bear her from this; not, at least, while I have arm to defend her, and a soul that cares not for your vengeance!" spake he, with curling contempt on his lip, as his adversaries stood aghast with fear and trembling. "Nay!-do not advance one step, or by the God of justice I make ye feel the length of this steel!" he continued, as Grantham nervously motioned an attempt to advance. Holding the woman with his left hand pressed backward, he brandished his stiletto in the faces of his opponents with his right. This was rebellion in its most legal acceptation, and would have justified the summary process Grantham was about adopting for the disposal of the instigator, at whose head he levelled his revolver, and, without effect, snapped two caps, as Nicholas bared his bosom with the taunt--"Coward, shoot!" Mr. Fladge, who was now made sensible of the error his indulgence had committed, could not permit Grantham the happy display of his bravery; no, he has called to his aid some ten subguardsmen, and addressing the resolute Grantham, bids him lay aside his weapon. Albeit he confesses his surprise at such strange insolence and interference; but, being responsible for the life, thinks it well to hold a parley before taking it. Forsooth his words fall useless on the ears of Nicholas, as defiantly he encircles the woman's waist with his left arm, bears her away to the block, dashes the chains from her hands, and, spurning the honied words of Fladge, hurls them in the air, crying: "You have murdered the flesh;--would you chain the soul?" As he spoke, the guard, having ascended the watch tower, rings out the first alarm peal. "Dogs of savage might! ring your alarms; I care not," he continued, casting a sardonic glance at the tower as the sound died away on his ear. His pursuers now made a rush upon him, but ere they had secured him he seized a heavy bludgeon, and repelling their attack, found some hundred of his companions, armed with stone hammers, rallying in his defence. Seeing this formidable force thus suddenly come to his rescue, Mr. Fladge and his force were compelled to fall back before the advance. Gallantly did Nicholas lead on his sable band, as the woman sought refuge in one of the cells, Mr. Fladge and his posse retreating into the guard-house. Nicholas, now in full possession of the citadel, and with consternation and confusion triumphant within the walls, found it somewhat difficult to restrain his forces from taking possession of the guardhouse, and putting to death those who had sought shelter therein. Calmly but firmly did he appeal to them, and beseech them not to commit an outrage against life. As he had placed himself between the woman and her pursuers, so did he place himself before a file of his sable companions, who, with battle hammers extended, rushed for the great gates, as the second alarm rung out its solemn peal. Counselling his compatriots to stand firm, he gathered them together in the centre of the square, and addressed them in a fervent tone, the purport of which was, that having thus suddenly and unexpectedly become plunged into what would be viewed by the laws of the land as insurrection, they must stand on the defensive, and remember it were better to die in defence of right than live under the ignorance and sorrow of slavery.

While our hero-whose singular exploit we have divested of that dramatic effect presented in the original-addressed his forlorn band in the area of the prison, strange indeed was the scene of confusion presenting along the streets of the city. The alarm peals had not died ineffectual on the air, for as a messenger was despatched to warn the civil authorities of the sad dilemma at the prison, the great bell of St. Michael's church answered the warning peal with two loud rings; and simultaneously the city re-echoed the report of a bloody insurrection. On the long line of wharfs half circling the city, stood men aghast with fright; to the west all was quiet about the battery; to the south, the long rampart of dark moving pines that bordered on that side the calm surface of a harbour of unsurpassed beauty, seemed sleeping in its wonted peacefulness; to the east, as if rising from the sea to mar the beauty of the scene, stood fort Sumpter's sombre bastions, still and quiet like a monster reposing; while retracing along the north side of the harbour, no sign of trouble flutters from Fort Moultrie or Castle Pinkney-no, their savage embrasures are closed, and peace hangs in mists over their dark walls. The feud is in the city of democrats, wherein there are few who know not the nature of the warning peal; nor, indeed, act on such occasions like a world in fear, waiting but the tap of the watchman's baton ere it rushes to bloodshed.

In the busy portion of the city have men gathered at the corners of the street to hold confused controversy; with anxious countenances and most earnest gesticulations do they discuss the most certain means of safety. Ladies, in fright, speedily seek their homes, now asking questions of a passerby, whose intense excitement has carried off his power of speech, then shunning every luckless negro who chances in their way. The rumour of an insurrection, however falsely founded, turns every negro (of skin there is no distinction) into an enemy; whilst the second sound of the alarm peal makes him a bloody votary, who it needs but the booming of the cannon ere he be put to the sword. Guardsmen, with side-arms and cross-belts, are eager and confused, moving to and fro with heavy tread; merchants and men of more easy professions hasten from their labours, seek their homes, prepare weapons for the conflict, and endeavour to soothe the fears of their excited families, beseeching protection. That a deadly struggle is near at hand no one doubts, for men have gathered on the house-tops to watch the moving mass, bearing on its face the unmistakeable evidence of fear and anxiety, as it sweeps along the streets. Now the grotesque group is bespotted with forms half dressed in............