one. I acknowledged as much, and then I put
it to Short whether our wisest course would
not be to let one or two of the sharpest of our
fellow-prisoners into our secret, and see what
they said. Short asked me which two I had
in my mind when I made that proposal?

"Mr. Macey," says I, "because he is
naturally quick, and has improved his gifts by
learning, and Miss Maryon——"

"How can a woman help us?" says Short,
breaking in on me.

"A woman with a clear head and a high
courage and a patient resolution—all of
which Miss Maryon has got, above all the
world—may do more to help us, in our
present strait, than any man of our company,"
says I.

"Well," says Short, "I daresay you're
right. Speak to anybody you please, Gill;
but, whatever you do, man, stick to it at the
trees. Let's get the timber down—that's the
first thing to be done, anyhow."

Before we were mustered for work, I took
an opportunity of privately mentioning to
Miss Maryon and Mr. Macey what had
passed between Short and me. They were
both thunderstruck at the notion of the rafts.
Miss Maryon, as I had expected, made
lighter of the terrible difficulties in the way
of carrying out our scheme than Mr. Macey
did.

"We are left here to watch and think,
all day," she whispered—and I could almost
hear the quick beating of her heart.
"While you are making the best of your
time among the trees, we will make the
best of ours in the Palace. I can say
no more, now—I can hardly speak at all
for thinking of what you have told me.
Bless you, bless you, for making me hope
once more! Go now—we must not risk
the consequences of being seen talking
together. When you come back at night, look
at me. If I close my eyes, it is a sign that
nothing has been thought of yet. If I keep
them open, take the first safe opportunity of
speaking secretly to me or to Mr. Macey."

She turned away; and I went back to my
comrades. Half an hour afterwards, we
were off for our second day's work among the
trees.

When we came back, I looked at Miss
Maryon. She closed her eyes. So, nothing had
been thought of, yet.

Six more days we worked at cutting down
the trees, always meriting the same good
character for industry from our Pirate-guard.
Six more evenings I looked at Miss Maryon;
and six times her closed eyes gave me the
same disheartening answer. On the ninth
day of our work, Short whispered to me, that
if we plied our axes for three days longer, he
considered we should have more than timber
enough down, to make the rafts. He had
thought of nothing, I had thought of nothing,
Miss Maryon and Mr. Macey had thought
of nothing. I was beginning to get low
in spirits; but, Short was just as cool and
easy as ever. "Chop away, Davis," was
all he said. "The river won't run dry yet
awhile. Chop away!"

We knocked off, earlier than usual that
day, the Pirates having a feast in prospect, off
a wild hog. It was still broad daylight (out
of the forest) when we came back, and when
I looked once more in Miss Maryon's face.

I saw a flush in her cheeks; and her eyes
met mine brightly. My heart beat quicker at
the glance of them; for I saw that the time had
come, and that the difficulty was conquered.

We waited till the light was fading, and the
Pirates were in the midst of their feast.
Then, she beckoned me into the inner room,
and I sat down by her in the dimmest corner
of it.

"You have thought of something, at last,
Miss?"

"I have. But the merit of the thought
is not all mine. Chance—no! Providence—
suggested the design; and the instrument
with which its merciful Wisdom has worked,
is—a child."

She stopped, and looked all round her
anxiously, before she went on.

"This afternoon," she says, "I was sitting
against the trunk of that tree, thinking of
what has been the subject of my thoughts
ever since you spoke to me. My sister's
little girl was whiling away the tedious time,
by asking Mr. Kitten to tell her the names of
the different plants which are still left growing
about the room. You know he is a
learned man in such matters?"

I knew that; and have, I believe, formerly
given that out, for my Lady to take in writing.

"I was too much occupied," she went
on, "to pay attention to them, till they
came close to the tree against which I was
sitting. Under it and about it, there grew
a plant with very elegantly-shaped leaves,
and with a kind of berry on it. The child
showed it to Mr. Kitten; and saying, 'Those
berries look good to eat,' stretched out her
hand towards them. Mr. Kitten stopped
her. 'You must never touch that,' he
said. 'Why not?' the child asked.
'Because if you eat much of it, it would poison
you.' 'And if I only eat a little?' said the
child, laughing. 'If you only eat a little,'
said Mr. Kitten, 'it would throw you into a
deep sleep—a sleep that none of us could
wake you from, when it was time for breakfast
—a sleep that would make your mama
think you were dead.' Those words were
hardly spoken, when the thought that I have
now to tell you of, flashed across my mind.
But, before I say anything more, answer me
one question. Am I right in supposing that
our attempt at escape must be made in the
night?"

"At night, certainly," says I, "because
we can be most sure, then, that the Pirates off
guard are all in this building, and not likely
to leave it."