It is quite certain the ferryman made no objection to my crossing, and I went to Belvidere where I remained quietly till the appointed Thursday night, when I started with a trusty man for Scheimer’s.  We timed our journey so as to arrive there at one o’clock in the morning.  Ever since her attempt to elope, Sarah had been watched night and day, and to prevent her abduction by me, Mr. Scheimer had two or three men in the house to stand guard at night.  Sarah was locked in her room, which is precisely what we had provided for, for no one in the house supposed that she could escape by the window.  There was a big dog on the premises, but he and I were old friends, and he seemed very glad to see me when I came on the ground on this eventful night.  Sarah was watching, and when I made the signal she opened the window and threw out her ready prepared bundle.  Then my man and I set the ladder and she came safely to the ground.  A moment more and we would have stolen away, when, as ill luck would have it, the ladder fell with a great crash, and the infernal dog, that a moment before seemed almost in our confidence, set up a howl and then barked loud enough to wake the dead.

Forthwith issued from the house old Scheimer, two of his sons and his hired guard-a half dozen in all.  There was a time then.  The girl was instantly seized and taken into the house.  Then all hands fell upon us two, and though I and my man fought our best they managed to pound us nearly to death.  The dog, too, in revenge no doubt for the scare the ladder had given him, or perhaps to show his loyalty to his master, assisted in routing us, and put in a bite where he could.  It is a wonder we were not killed.  Sarah, meanwhile, was calling out from the house, and imploring them not to murder us.  How we ever got away I hardly know now, but presently we found ourselves in the road running for our lives, and running also for the carriage we had concealed in the woods, half a mile above.  We reached it, and hastily unhitching and getting in we drove rapidly for the bridge crossing over to Belvidere.  That beautiful August night had very few charms for us.  It would have been different indeed if I had succeeded in securing my Sarah; and to think of having the prize in my very grasp, and the losing all!

We reached the hotel in Belvidere at about half-past two o’clock in the morning, wearied, worn, bruised and disheartened.  My man had not suffered nearly as severely as I had; the bulk of their blows fell upon me, and I had the sorest body and the worst looking face I had ever exhibited.  I rested one day and then hurried on to New York.  Of course, I had no means of knowing the feelings or condition of the loved girl from whom I had been so suddenly and so violently parted.  I only learned from an Easton man whom I knew and whom I met in the city, that “Sarah Scheimer was sick"-that was all; the man said he did’nt know the family very well, but he had heard that Miss Scheimer had been “out of her head, if not downright crazy.”