Hanged! The very crickets seemed to be chirping it. Over and over the word kept repeating itself in John’s mind as he walked slowly on over the lawn. He saw that now he was no longer bound by his parole. His word of honor had held him, but the order to hang him released him from the bond. He would escape if he could, but wherever he went red-coated soldiers were lounging lazily about, and up and down the road marched the sentries with their muskets over their shoulders.
If it were only night! In the darkness he might escape, but it was not yet noon. The very words of the letter came back to him. “Hang him before sunset to-night!�
And this was to be the end of it all! To be hanged! It was too horrible to think of. Every avenue of escape was blocked, and in sheer desperation he returned to the house and made his way noiselessly up the stairs to his room. His mother was not there, and relieved by the thought that she was not present to look upon him in his weakness, he bolted the door and seated himself by the table on which stood a miniature of her. He looked at it, and dropping his head upon his arms on the table before him, he sobbed in an agony of despair.
He was roused by the sound of the dinner-bell. He must go down and somehow conceal his feelings. He bathed his face and, somewhat relieved by his tears, arose to join the family in the room below.
Only his sisters were there when he entered, and he knew at once by the expression upon their faces that his mother had not shown the letter to them. He choked down a few mouthfuls of food, but he could not eat. Excusing himself from the table on the plea that he wished to find his mother, he ran swiftly up to her room and rapped upon the door.
He had to repeat his summons before it was opened, and then it was only far enough to enable his mother to see who the visitor was. Then she drew him inside, and quickly closed and bolted the door again.
John almost broke down when he looked at her, so woful and desperate was her expression. He must cheer her with some hope, and his own courage revived at the cheerful tone which he assumed:
“Little mother, none of the Russells were ever hanged, and I shall not be the first.�
“What will you do, my son?� Her voice sounded as if it were far away, and John looked up quickly as he replied: “I shall make a break for it, if I must. I’d rather be shot in trying to get away than be hanged.�
“You are my own brave laddie,� said his mother, rising. “Do your best, John; but if you have to——�