Well, I determined to, find the origin of them. I crawled
through a broken window--reached the second floor by a dusty staircase,
and went straight toward a door, behind which I heard the groaning. It
was heavily locked, and I could not even shake it. Then I ran to the
partition between the room and the passage--found it made of boards,
between the cracks of which I could see--and looking in, I saw Swartz!
He was sitting on an old broken chair, beside a table with three legs,
and his hand was buried in his hair, as if he was trying to tear it
out.
"When I called to him, he started, and his groans stopped. He turned
his head. No sooner had he recognized me than he cried out with joy;
and for some moments he could say nothing but 'Save me! save me!
Nighthawk! They are starving me to death!'
"I will not lengthen out my story, colonel. I see Alibi coming back. I
had scarcely exchanged ten words with Swartz, when I heard the gallop
of a horse, and running to the window, saw _that woman_ get off. A
second's reflection told me that she was coming into the house; I knew
that, if discovered, I would be shot or taken prisoner--and I decided
on my course in a minute. I said to Swartz, 'wait a few hours--I will
go and bring you help.' I glided through a back window, dropped to the
ground, ran into the bushes--and here I am, colonel, waiting for night
to come, to return and rescue Swartz.
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