Bacon heard the rusty bolt shoot into its socket, and then the hasping and locking of the outside door, with a sensation of utter hopelessness. He wandered through the dark precincts of his prison, stumbling now over an old barrel, and anon against a meat block, until he came to some dry bundles of fodder, which seemed to have been spread out in one corner to answer the purpose of a bed. Before throwing himself upon this rude couch, he resolved to examine the structure of his cell. By passing his hands along the walls, he found that they were built of brick, well cemented by a long process of time—that the summit upon which the basement beams of the frame rested, were entirely out of his reach, and that in the present confined state of his hands, it would be impossible for him to make any impression on them, and he could distinctly hear the tramp of more than one sentinel, as they paced their monotonous rounds about that wing of the building. There was yet much of the day remaining, and he resolved to spend it in endeavouring to grind off the end of the rivets to the iron bands enclosing his wrists. By rubbing these against the bricks, he found that he could wear them away by a tedious and laborious process. Our hero was not one of those who surrender themselves up to despondency at the first appearance of insurmountable difficulties; decision of character was his most striking quality, and he knew that his devoted army only waited for him to lead them to avenge his wrongs. He felt the difficulties which lay between him and Jamestown, but he did not despair, however desperate his circumstances. For many hours he persevered in grinding the rivets against the bricks; with wrenching and great danger of dislocating his wrists, he at length succeeded in so wearing down the iron, that he could at any moment throw aside the manacles. Encouraged with this success, he moved the meat-block against the wall, and made all preparations for a breach, as soon as he should be satisfied that the darkness of night would cover his movements.

To while away the time usefully, he threw himself upon his rude bed, and was soon, from the effects of great previous mental excitement and bodily fatigue, wrapt in profound slumber.

The shadows of night had closed around this land in the midst of waters in sombre hues, and the prisoner still slept profoundly.

In the mean time circumstances were in progress on the bay, which had a most important bearing upon the fate of every one then at Accomac.

It has already been stated that Sir William Berkley had put in requisition such of the naval power as he could bring to bear upon his immediate designs and pressing necessities. But, after leaving the city in the precipitate manner which has been related, the citizens determined to summon to their aid, such of the ships and other vessels of war and merchandise, as yet remained in the river, within convenient distance of the city, and make the old knight a prisoner at Accomac.

The Governor had not long been gone before an armament superior to his own, was seen steering in the course which he had taken. This consisted of "one ship, a bark of four guns, a sloop and schooner." The expedition was under the joint command of Giles Bland and William Carver, both veteran and experienced seamen. On board of one of the vessels, and subordinate to the officers just mentioned, was Captain Larimore; he was one of the most devoted friends of Sir William Berkley, but his personal predilections and loyal principles were entirely unknown, either at Jamestown or on board the fleet. When this (at that time) formidable armament arrived in sight of the vessels at anchor, which had borne Sir William and his partisans to Accomac, it being now dark, (on the same evening in which Bacon lay sleeping in his dungeon,) Capt. Larimore proposed to his superior officers, that he would take one or two resolute tars, and, avoiding the hostile vessels, land and reconnoitre the position and forces of the Governor.

His proposition was promptly acceded to, and Larimore launched his boat, selected his men, and protected by the thickness of the fog and the darkness of the night, succeeded in effecting his landing unperceived by the vessels in the service of the Governor. If he had been aware of Bacon's imprisonment and condemnation, and disposed to do so, he might have rendered him the most important services; but whether disposed to hazard any thing in his cause or not, both he and his superiors were ignorant of Bacon's fate.

When the boat containing the adventurer and his two associates struck the shore, Larimore immediately sprang upon the beach and ordered his subordinates to push a few yards out into the bay, and remain within sound of his whistle. He proceeded directly towards the quarters of Sir William Berkley, until he was challenged by one of the sentinels with his carbine at his breast. Larimore desired the sentinel to lead him to the Governor. As soon as he had made himself known to his Excellency, he informed him of his disposition to advance the cause of the loyal party, and submitted the following proposition.

He requested the Governor to send one or two of his most daring and trusty officers, with one hundred resolute men in boats or canoes, during that portion of the night when he should himself be in command of the watch—and promised that he would deliver the whole armament into the hands of the Governor. Sir William immediately summoned his officers and made the proposition known to them—requesting, at the same time that any gentleman who desired to be entrusted with the expedition would step forward. Philip Ludwell promptly acceded to the offer, and tendered his services, which were as promptly accepted. Ludwell having selected his supporters from the hardiest of the troops and sailors, he held himself in readiness to push off as soon as the appointed hour should arrive. Larimore giving the concerted signal, sprang into his boat and returned to those who sent him, with a very different account of Sir William's position and intentions from that we have just related.

All this time Bacon was sleeping as soundly upon his bed of corn blades, as if it was not to be his last sleep on earth. Criminals condemned to death generally do sleep soundly the night preceding their execution, and Bacon, whether criminal or not, was no exception to the rule.

It was some hours after the sun had gone down, and about the same time that Larimore put off to his vessel, when Bacon suddenly started up from his rude couch, under an oppressive sense of glaring light upon his eye balls. An aged and decrepid woman was leaning over him; she was resting upon her knees, in one hand holding the lamp and in the other the locket which had already exercised such an important influence upon his destiny. She had sprung the lid, during his sleep, and was now gazing upon the beautiful picture, with an interest and amazement not less intense than he had himself manifested on its first discovery in the Indian wigwam. So absorbed was her every faculty, that his sudden start from sleep scarcely attracted her attention. Her eyes were filled with water in the vain endeavour to decipher the outlines with convincing accuracy. When the date and the initials and the hair were submitted to a like scrutiny, conviction settled at once upon her mind. The feeling operated slowly at first, but as one doubt gave way after another, her pale and haggard features began perceptibly to assume the life and vigour of deep excitement. The locket fell from her grasp, and she clasped her hands—but suddenly throwing back the curling masses from his brow she exclaimed: "Tell me, my master, are you called Nathaniel Bacon?"

"I am! but tell me in your turn, why do you ask?"

She answered only by exclaiming, "O merciful Heaven! God be praised! Wonderful are the ways of Providence!" Bacon was on his knees also, his manacled hands laid upon her shoulders as he anxiously and hastily inquired, "Tell me, good mother, what do you know of Nathaniel Bacon?"

"More than he knows of himself, mayhap!"

"Speak it quickly—moments are more precious than diamonds—say, whence comes your knowledge? who are you? who am I? for God's sake tell me quickly!"

"You are the son of as worthy a gentleman as ever wore a sword. I knew him and your honoured mother well—that is, if you are the same mischievous boy whom I have mourned as drowned these many long and lonesome years."

The captive waited to hear no more, but springing upon his feet, paced wildly round the damp cellar like one in a delirium of joy. The old woman still maintained her humble posture, her hands again clasped, and her long wrinkled neck turning with difficulty to follow the strange movements of the prisoner. Suddenly, and as if stricken down by a cannon shot, he threw himself upon the earth his whole frame convulsed with thoughts of his present hopeless condition. "What matters it whether I am Nathaniel Bacon or not? What will it avail, this time to-morrow, when these limbs, now so full of life and vigour in the renewal of hope, will be still in the cold embrace of death?"

"Death!" the old woman screamed, rising from her knees, seizing the lamp and thrusting it in Bacon's face—"Death, did you say, my son? or did my old ears deceive me with the horrible word?"

"They did not,—truer words were never spoken or heard; to-morrow, before the sun has measured an hour in the heavens, the voice which now addresses you, will be silenced in the everlasting sleep of death!"

Horror struck his auditor dumb; her shrivelled lips moved with a tremulous motion, as if she desired to speak—but she spoke not. An ashy paleness overspread her features, and she staggered backward and would have fallen, had she not been caught in the arms of her long-lost foster son. A tumult of thoughts crowded upon her enfeebled mind, as she recovered, gasping with the unusual excitement, and her aged frame heaved as if it would burst in the effort. At length a ray of hope seemed to dawn upon her mental vision; her eye sparkled with the thought, as she resumed the lamp which Bacon had taken from her hand, and placed upon the ground. "It must not, shall not be, my son. There is your coarse food, Heaven forgive me for not offering you better, but little did my thoughts turn upon such a godsend. I have a thousand things to ask and tell, but as you say, life—precious life—hangs upon every moment lost, so—"

At this moment the sentinel advanced directly before them, and taking the old woman rudely by the arm, said, "Come, old Tabby, the prisoner can find the way to his mouth without the light; give him his bread and water, and be off;" thrusting her up the steps, as he spoke, slamming the door, and once more turning the grating bolt upon the unfortunate prisoner.

Bacon's late reviving hopes almost died within him as he listened to the unwelcome sounds and the retreating footsteps of his visiters.

He threw himself once more upon his rude couch and abandoned himself to despair. But youthful hope never despairs utterly, however desperate the circumstances; a few moments after saw him with his handcuffs thrown off, and busily engaged in piling the loosened bricks upon the floor. In less than an hour, he beheld the stars lightly twinkling in the Heavens, through the aperture created by the removal of a single brick, which he had taken from the outer layer before he was aware of his progress. Cautiously and intently he listened for the footsteps of the sentinel; strange sounds seemed to come from off the water, but all in his immediate vicinity was as quiet as the grave, except the tumultuous throbbing of his own heart. Again he proceeded cautiously in his work, until he had completed an aperture sufficiently large to admit the passage of his body. Then, bracing his nerves, he proceeded to effect his exit through the opening, and was vigorously struggling to free himself, when a musket ball whistled by his ear and buried itself in the wooden sill of the house. He sprang back into the cellar, and stood in confusion and amazement, until the short chuckling laugh of the sentinel roused him from his delusive dream of hope. He could distinctly hear the marksman who had exhibited such a dangerous proof of his skill, laughing and telling his comrade, who paced before the door at the end of the house, "how he had shaved the prisoner's head." The unfortunate captive now abandoned himself to despair in earnest. A thousand times he cursed his ill fated stars, for thus leading the old nurse into his cell to rouse his dormant hopes, and give a new impulse to his desires for freedom.

While these matters were in progress at the prison of our hero, the naval armament under the command of Bland, Carver and Larimore, belonging to and put in motion by his friends among the citizens, and which might have rendered him such effectual assistance had the two principal officers been aware of his situation, was itself about to perform its share in the contest. The expedition under Ludwell, as had been promised to the traitor Larimore, was sent out at the exact time specified, and with muffled oars skimmed along the surface of the tranquil lake, keeping under the shadow of the ships. As they approached, signals were exchanged, which satisfied Ludwell that Larimore was indeed in command of the watch, and still ready to betray his trust. Once or twice, indeed, a suspicion shot across his mind, that Larimore might only be an agent in the hands of Bland and Carver, and that his proposal was but a scheme laid to entrap himself and followers into the power of the rebels, as the Governor's party were pleased to call the patriots; but it was as speedily dissipated by the favourable train in which every thing seemed to lie, as the traitor had promised.

The loyal party under his command was in a very few minutes silently and stealthily climbing up the sides of the vessels. Having gained the decks, they proceeded at once to disarm and bind the sentinels. These unfortunate fellows had been induced by the traitor Larimore, to believe that the party under Ludwell were deserters from the ranks of Sir William Berkley, and were not undeceived until they found themselves bound hand and foot, and such other precautions taken that they could not alarm their sleeping comrades below. In less time than we have taken to record the transaction, the whole naval armament in the service of the patriots, together with the officers, crews and military stores, were delivered into the hands of Governor Berkley. The success of the enterprise was announced to the anxious expectants on shore, by a discharge of artillery, which was joyously answered on their part. Sir William Berkley was transported with delight—so lately abandoned by the majority of the citizens and soldiers of the capital, and compelled to desert the legitimate seat of government, he now saw himself in possession of a naval and military power, more than sufficient to command the obedience, if he could not win the affections of the rebellious citizens. He immediately called together his officers, and such of the cavalier gentry as had followed his fortunes to this remote corner of the colony, and imparted to them his determination to embark his land forces on board the ships brought over by himself, and those surrendered by Larimore, and sail within the hour for the capital.

It may be readily imagined that this sudden change in their fortunes was not received with murmurs and discontent; on the contrary preparations were eagerly and joyously commenced. The captured and betrayed patriots were divided among all the vessels, so as to preclude effectually any chance of their rising upon the Governor and his party. The soldiers, artillery and baggage were placed on board, and the signal given for the embarkation of the old knight and his staff—family and attendants.

Our gentle heroine was not forgotten—she too had been roused, not from her slumbers, for she had not slept, but from her restless and feverish pillow, and commanded to prepare for instant departure for the capital. The stern old Cavalier, her uncle, stood in the open plot in front of the house surrounded by his partisans, impatiently waiting her descent. At length she appeared, leaning upon the arm of Frank Beverly on one side, and that of her female attendant upon the other—her aunt following in evident dejection of spirits. Virginia's countenance was white as the spotless attire in which she was enveloped. Her eye wildly wandered over the faces crowding around, as she emerged from the house, but soon settled again in sullen composure as she perceived the absence of the one sought. The pine torches, borne by the negroes, shed a glaring and unsteady light on the objects around; the steady tramp of the soldiers, as they marched to and embarked on board the boats, were heard in the direction of the water, while other parties were seen in like manner provided with torches, floating in the barks already laden, toward the ships moored in the offing. As the party that had just emerged from the house was about to move in the same direction, Beverly spoke aloud to the Governor.

"Sir William, are you going to leave the prisoner in the cellar?"

"True—true, my boy," he replied, "I was so overjoyed at trapping so many of his compeers, that I had entirely forgotten his generalship; but we will care for his standing, and that right speedily. We will elevate him—I will not say above his desert—but certainly to a position to which he has long had eminent claims. Ho! Sir Hangman! Ludwell, order the hangman into our presence; we need a cast of his office before we set sail."

"It was customary with the Romans, you know, Sir William, to offer up a sacrifice before they embarked upon any important enterprise," said Beverly, laughing at his own wretched attempt at wit. But there was one countenance in the group upon which the first intimation of Beverly concerning the neglect of the prisoner, wrought a fearful change. Virginia threw her eyes wildly round, searching from face to face, for some small evidence of sympathy on which to cast her hopes, but they were all steeled in imperturbable apathy, or clad in more appalling smiles of derision. As her eye glanced around the circle, it fell at last upon the youth supporting her own enfeebled steps. Her knees were just sinking under her from weakness and dismay, but the sight of Frank Beverly's smiling countenance aroused her energies. Her muscles were instantly braced, her eye shot forth scorn and contempt, while she threw his arms from her, as she would have started from the touch of some loathsome reptile. The youth, with a grim smile, folded his arms in quiet serenity, to await the appearance of the prisoner, as if conscious that his hour of sweet revenge was near at hand.

Virginia threw herself at the feet, first of her uncle, and then of her aunt, and earnestly prayed for the life of her lover, as she heard the orders for bringing him forth, but from the first she received only a contemptuous glance, and from the latter silent tears. She was still kneeling upon the grass at the feet of the latter, her head fallen in despair and exhaustion upon her bosom, when the soldiers rushed out from the cellar, and proclaimed the escape of the prisoner. An electric stream poured into Virginia's sinking frame could not have more suddenly restored her to life and animation. She screamed, clasped her hands, sprang to her feet, and fell back into the arms of her aunt in a paroxysm of mingled joy and agitation.

Sir William Berkley gnashed his teeth, and swearing vengeance against the traitors who had permitted his enemy's escape, seized one of the pine torches and rushed into the cellar to satisfy himself that he was not concealed behind some of the rubbish of the apartment; but soon found convincing evidence of his escape, in the irons that lay upon the ground, and the aperture through which he had made his exit. The sentinels were all called up, who had at any time stood guard over the prisoner through the night. It appeared that the one who had discharged his piece so near to the head of the prisoner, had been some time since relieved, and that he had merely mentioned to his successor, the attempt of Bacon to escape, with his own amusement in showing him how near he could shoot to his head without wounding him.

"Would to God you had lodged the ball in his skull," exclaimed the enraged governor. The truth was, that the sentinel had supposed the prisoner still loaded with his irons when he appeared at the breach, having merely discovered one of the many evidences of dilapidation in the house, and had consequently left him in the care of his successor, with the full confidence that he would not make a second attempt. How he was induced to make that second attempt will appear in the sequel. The soldier on duty, at the time when he was supposed to have escaped, was immediately ordered to be put in irons.

Lady Berkley was about having her niece conveyed to the house, but her enraged husband harshly ordered those supporting her now prostrate form, to convey her to the vessel, which was accordingly done. The Governor, his suite and followers were soon also on board, and a roar of artillery announced their final departure from the "eastern shore."

When Bacon threw himself upon his couch, after his last unfortunate attempt to escape, every thought of once more gaining his liberty abandoned him. He very naturally supposed that his failure would only redouble the vigilance of his guards, and therefore resumed his irons, with the desperate resolution of throwing them off, when he should be led to execution on the following morning, and selling his life as dearly as he might.

He had lain for some hours in a state of mind that may be readily imagined from the late scenes through which he had passed, when at length he heard his own name softly whispered in his gloomy cell; the voice appeared to be in his immediate vicinity. He arose and followed the supposed direction of the sound, and again he heard it on the opposite side—proceeding from the still unclosed aperture in the wall. He answered in the same subdued whisper. "Come this way," said the voice of the old woman, the shadow of whose head he could now perceive darkening the partial light which broke through. "Come this way, Master Bacon. Tim Jones, the sentinel, has gone into my cabin to eat a chicken supper, and drink some aqua vitÆ which I procured for him; his place is supplied by a soldier whom I engaged to be ready, as if by accident. He pretends to be asleep under the big tree yonder. Do you come forth and proceed round the opposite end of the house to that occupied by the other sentinel, until you come to the bushes at the end of the garden palings—there wait until I come to you—for your life do not stir, until I join you there."

Bacon succeeded in avoiding the notice of the sentry and in gaining the spot indicated by the old woman, where he had scarcely concealed himself, before the discharge of artillery from the betrayed fleet startled him from his recumbent posture. He supposed that his own capture had been ascertained at Jamestown, and that vessels had been despatched to rescue him. This idea had scarcely entered his mind, before he sprang over the palings and was running at his utmost speed across the garden toward the bay, for the purpose of procuring a boat, but his attention was instantly arrested by the appearance of the Governor and his suite collecting in the yard in front of the house. He was on the point of running into the hands of the sentinel whose temporary absence had afforded him the chance of escape, and who now sat with his weapon ready for action, securely guarding, as he supposed, the person who stood just behind him. The man hailed him as soon as he heard the rustling among the shrubbery, but the liberated captive had seen and heard enough to induce him to seek his hiding-place once more.