"Look where the bowlder lies, up there by the ravine. You will see a twinkle of steel among the leaves. There are guns aimed at your men. You understand."
Perhaps Augustus did not distinguish the guns; but he understood. At a signal, his men would be shot down.
"I would prefer not to shed blood. So decide and that quickly!" said Pomp.
"And if I comply?"
"Comply readily with all I shall demand of you, and not a hair of your head shall be harmed. Now I count ten. At the word ten, I send a bullet through your heart if those men are still there." He commenced, like one telling the strokes of a tolling bell: "One——two——three——four——five——"
"Sergeant," called Augustus, "take your men and report to Lieutenant Ropes at the sink."
"A fine time to be taken up with a love affair!" growled the sergeant, as he obeyed.
"Now what?" said Bythewood, under an air of bravado concealing the despair of his heart.
"Come!" said Pomp, with savage impatience,—for he knew well that, if Bythewood had not yet learned of Ropes's death, messengers must be on the way to him, and therefore not a moment was to be lost. He opened the bushes. Augustus crept into them: Virginia followed. But then suddenly the negro seemed to change his plans, the spirit and firmness of the girl inspiring him with a fresh idea.
"Miss Villars, we are going to the cave. Look down the ravine there;—you see this path is rough."