A slight wrenching of the bars showed the skill with which they had been sawn asunder.

One after another gave way, and the whole framework was in his hands.

He was on the point of dropping it gently, when outside, under the window, a human form appeared.

It was that of an Indian!

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE.

On seeing the Indian, Cris Carrol felt himself in a dilemma.

But he did not pause long before taking action.

He saw that the man was not watching him, but seemed to have his eyes fixed upon the windows of the adjoining habitation.

Quietly pulling in the iron framework which was beginning to feel heavy, Cris deposited it without noise in the interior of the room and again clambered up to the window. Before doing so, however, he stole his knife from one of the sleeping sentinels.

The Indian outside had still maintained his att.i.tude.

When Cris looked forth again, he saw him with his eyes fixed on the same spot.

What was to be done?

The only thing that suggested itself to the hunter was precisely what he did do.

He crept through the window.

So quietly, that ere the individual below was aware of his presence, he had seized him by the throat and forced him to the ground.

A surprise awaited him when he had accomplished this feat. The Indian's face was revealed, and, to Carrol's surprise, no less than his joy, for not having plunged the knife into his heart, he recognised it.

"Nelatu!"

"Carrol!"

"Hush! or you'll alarm all the red-skins about the place."

"What are you doing here?"

"I've just dropped out o' that thar window," he paid, pointing to the opening above.

"How came you to go in there?"

"I didn't go in of my own will, you may bet high on that. I war brung."

"Who brought you?"

"Some o' yur own Injuns."

"A prisoner?"

"That's about the size o' it. I shouldn't have been one much longer."

"What do you mean?"

"Why, that to-morrow I'd have been as dead as a man could be, with forty or fifty fellows playing blue-blazes on his carcase."

"Ha! they have decreed on burning you?"

"That's it, lad, and consarn me if I ain't glad to be out hyar in the open air a tellin' it you, 'stead of in there a thinkin' on it."

"Who condemned you?"

"Wal, names hev a kind o' slipped my memory, but they wur warriors and braves of yur enlightened community."

"Why did you not send for me?"

"I thought of that, but they told me you war gone, and wouldn't be back in time for the ceremony."

"How did you get out here? Who opened the window?"

"That war done by a angel."

"An angel?--what do you mean?"

"Jist this; that at one of the corners of that thar eternal hole, a angel appeared and showed me the road to liberty."

"Who was it?"

"Wal, it air no use keepin' it from you--"

"Speak! who was it?"

"I'll tell you, but first listen a spell to somethin' else. Nelatu, lad, I once did you a sarvice."

"You did! I shall never forget it!"

"Durn it, it warn't for that I made mention on't. It war only this-- look me in the face, and tell me on the word of a man you mean square with me. Do that an' I'll put my trust in ye, as I'm now puttin' my life in your hands."

"Upon an Indian warrior's word, I am your friend!"

"You air, Nelatu? Then dog-gorn me if I doubt you. Your hand!"

They exchanged a friendly grasp.