At length, about an hour before dawn on the second day—Sunday—having spent the early part of the night in watching at the gates of the robbers' sanctuary, and being almost exhausted from want of rest, she set out homewards. What was he doing? What was he thinking? It was less than a day now, less than twenty hours. Once more he begged; but as Ruth only repeated her sharp command, he spun about and raced toward the jungle. You see—I didn’t understand. He ventured to the great gates, and by inserting his gimblets into the wood at intervals, so as to form points upon which he could rest his foot, he contrived, to ascend them; and when at the top, having fastened a portion of his dress to the spikes, he managed, not without considerable risk, to draw up his female companion. It was cramped even at the end of the passage. But there was no sign from her. "Come Bess,—no whimpering. She hesitated.
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