The storm had ceased, but the wind sobbed and moaned through the trees like a thing of life, sighing one moment like a person in anguish, and then wailing like a lost soul. An owl near by added its solemn hootings to the already dismal night. Fred felt Ferror shudder and try to creep still closer to him. Both boys remained silent for a long time, but at length Fred said:
"Ferror, shooting that sentinel was awful. I had almost rather have remained a prisoner. It was too much like murder."
"I did not know the sentinel was there," answered Ferror, "or I could have avoided him. As it was, it had to be done. It was a case of life or death. Fred, do you know who the sentinel was?"
"No."
"It was Drake; I saw his face by the flash of my pistol, just for a second, but it was enough. God! I can see it now," and he shuddered.
"Fred, do you despise me? You know I helped you to escape."
"No, Ferror; if I had been in your place, I might have done the same, but that would have made it none the less horrible."
"Fred, you will despise me; but I must tell you."
"Tell what?"