Every thing seemed to assume a more beautiful aspect, now that he was soon to be parted from them forever; they began to find a more precious place in his affections. It almost drove him to despair to think that he was to die so soon. Ay! before his course was run; to die a disgraceful—a traitor’s death!
“Oh! my God!” he exclaimed, dropping his head upon his breast, “have mercy on me! If I must die, let me leave a spotless name behind me!” unable any longer to control his feelings, he gave way to his grief.
“My life is fated!” exclaimed he, at length. “A dark shadow is cast before me; but I will show them that I can die like a man!” and with these words Captain Sherwood prepared himself to meet his doom like a hero.
He paced up and down his cell in deep abstraction. He was thinking over his whole life, and it was one that had experienced some vicissitudes. As his thoughts flew on, they gradually came back to the present.
“What could have become of his beautiful Imogene?” he asked himself for the hundredth time; “and again, his faithful friend, War-Cloud—where was he all this time?”
After putting one suspicious circumstance with another, he fully believed that some one was plotting against him. It was not those men who had sworn his life away, but some profound villain of whom they were but tools.
“Can it be possible,” he mused, “that Imogene may be even at this moment in the power of this villain, whosoever he may be!”
The remembrance of his frightful dream flashed across his mind.
“Great Heavens!” he cried, “it was a presentiment—a true one! Oh! oh! oh! she is dead—I shall go mad!” and he staggered against the wall of his cell for support.
Just then the first beams of the morning sun stole in through the window. This little circumstance, slight as it may seem, reanimated the captain.