Dalhousie and his wife ate freely of the fruit, while Uncle Nathan and Pat gazed in silence upon the scene.  But Delia was not so easily restored.  Her mental and physical sufferings appeared to have given her constitution a shock from which it would take time to recover.

A conference took place between the parties, to decide upon the best means of removing the lady, who was utterly incapable of moving a step, and scarcely of lifting her form on her rude couch.  Uncle Nathan was not long in devising a method; and, directing Pat to enlarge the aperture through which the captives were to escape, he went in search of some canes, with which to construct a litter.  Pat applied himself vigorously to his task, tumbling over the huge stones like playthings, and handling the shovel with all that dexterity for which the Celtic race is so distinguished.

A rude litter was constructed, on which were laid the coats of the party, so as to render it as comfortable as possible to the sufferer.  Uncle Nathan and Dalhousie, with much tenderness, though not without pain to the invalid, succeeded in getting her through the aperture into the open air, where she was placed upon the litter.

It was decided to carry her to the house of Mr. Faxon, upon whose active sympathies they relied for shelter and assistance; and they went with the more confidence, because Uncle Nathan had heard from Emily the interest he took in her affairs.  The litter was borne by Uncle Nathan and Pat, while Dalhousie walked by its side, to cheer the heart of his wife by promises of future joy, which the uncertain future might never redeem.

Mr. Faxon received the party with scarcely an inquiry as to the nature of the misfortune which brought them to his door.  There was a person in distress, and this was all his great, sympathetic heart needed to bid him open wide his doors.

Delia Dalhousie was placed upon a bed, a negro was despatched for a physician, and every effort used to alleviate her physical and mental sufferings.

After the wants of the sufferers had been supplied, Mr. Faxon listened with horror and indignation to the tale of Dalhousie’s confinement, and the causes which led to it; for the overseer was so candid as to relate all, not even omitting the bribe he had agreed to take of Jaspar.

“It is thus, Mr. Dalhousie, that our plans are defeated, when they are unworthy,” said he.  “Let this be a lesson to you for the future.  Never do or countenance a wrong action, and, whatever befalls you in this changing world, you will have an approving conscience to smile upon you, and lighten the darkest hour of adversity.  But your tale brings me consolation.  There is yet hope that Miss Dumont is alive.  The cruel story of her death has darkened the abode of many a warm heart, even in spite of the reflection that she was a slave.  She was a true woman, and I pray that God may spare her yet many years to bless the needy and the unfortunate.”