"Yes; and it has but one defect."
"What's that?" asked Bob, with some appearance of interest.
"The handle won't turn!" ejaculated the young Virginian, darting hastily from the room to hide his emotion.
Mr. Peters looked vaguely after the retreating form of the sensitive youth, and as one of the keepers relocked the door again from the outside, his face sank upon his hands. What did his visitor mean by accusing him of not making his appearance at the appointed time? It was exactly quarter-past Twelve when he left the house. "I see how it is," murmured Mr. Peters, between his hands; "the boy has been taking something hot."
CHAPTER VI.—ANOTHER VISITOR.
The ladies were taking their usual promenade through the main corridor of the jail, curiously gazing at times through the newly-grated door at the prisoners in the main room, and seasoning their morning
gossip with piquant observations on the probable execution of the horrid creatures there confined. Mrs. Peyton took occasion to inform Mrs. Mason that she wouldn't pass a day without taking a look at the wretches for all the world; and Mrs. Mason informed Mrs. Peyton that her life would hardly be endurable if she did not live in hope of seeing all the Abolitionists there yet. Here young Mr. Baron ventured to intimate that the Yankee prisoners were fortunate in being favored with such an array of fair before them; for which he was saluted as an "absurd thing," and received a shower of taps from adjacent fans.
Miss Adams led her companion, a neighbor's child, to where a keeper was leaning idly against the wall.
"Are these all your prisoners?" she asked.
"All but one that was taken last night and is up stairs," replied the official.