"Are you sure, Mr. Foster, you're not mistaken? It seems to me the water shoals at the rate of a fathom for every hundred yards traversed. We may have missed the Swash, left Moultrie to leeward, and got into the net-work of sand banks, near. Hilloa! what's that ahead of us? Boats, as I'm a sinner!"

At the same moment the pilot thrust his hand rapidly into the breast of his coat, drew out something, and flung it on the deck, where it instantly began to sputter and hiss, and directly afterward, the livid glare of a bluelight flashed through the darkness, showing funnel and rigging, the pale faces of the passengers, the narrow channel of fretted water, and the sandy islets on either bow.

Nor was this all, for by the ghastly light we could distinguish two dark objects on the foamy sea ahead of us-boats full of men pulling swiftly, but noiselessly toward us, and no doubt with muffled oars.

“By the mark, two!—shoal water—we're aground!” cried an ill-boding voice, that of the sailor in the chains; and the Bonnybell came suddenly to a check, throwing most of the landsmen from their feet, while the ominous scrooping of the keel told that the steamer was aground.

A loud clamor instantly arose-many voices shouting at once, in tones of inquiry, dismay, or command; and even above this turmoil arose the hurrah of those who manned the boats, and who now came dashing up, pulling and cheering like madmen.

"Treachery! treachery!" cried several of the passengers and crew, pointing to where the pilot stood beside the blue-light, that his own perfidious hand had kindled; while already the man-of-war's men, for such we could not doubt them to be, began to scramble on board.

"The Yankee blood-hounds sure enough; but you shall not live to share the prize-money!" exclaimed Pritchard, snatching up a hand-spike, and aiming a blow at Mr. Zack Foster, that would have been a lethal stroke had not that astute person swerved aside, receiving the weapon on his left shoulder.

Our men set up a faint cheer, and a shot was fired, luckily without effect. But resistance would have been madness, so thickly did the American sailors crowd up our gangway, their pistols and cutlasses ready for the fray; while among them were nine or ten marines, wellarmed with musket and bayonet, and who drove the Bonnybell's crew below hatches without any serious show of fighting.

The Federal Lieutenant in command, to do him justice, seemed anxious that no needless violence should be used, while proclaiming the vessel a prize to the boats of the United States war-brig Dacotah, he yet restrained the fury of that precious guide, Mr. Zack Foster, who had recovered from the effect of his knockdown blow, drawn a bowie-knife, and rushed upon Pritchard, who was struggling in the hands of his captors.

'Gently, sir," said the Lieutenant; "gently Quartermaster Fitch. These caged birds are under Uncle Sam's protection, and I cannot allow any ill-usage of my prisoners. Do you hear me, sir?"

"You

"Quartermaster!" exclaimed poor Captain Pritchard, as his wrists were thrust into the handcuffs. don't mean that double-dyed villain, that Judas of a pilot, is a Yankee petty officer after all? I wish I'd only guessed the truth a few hours back, and—if I swung for it--I'd have chucked the spy overboard as I would a mangy puppy."

The Lieutenant made no answer, but ordered the Captain and mates sent below, and proceeded at once to seize the steamer's papers, to place the passengers under arrest, and to take steps to get the Bonnybell off the sand-bank.

He then compelled the ngineer to set the machinery at work, and we ran down, under the skillful pilotage of Mr. Fitch, to Edisto Island, in which anchorage we came to our moorings under the guns of the Dacotah, and within a short distance of several other vessels of the blockading squadron.

STORY C.

ESCAPE FROM LIBBY PRISON.

EARLY in December, 1863, the Union officers confined in Libby Prison conceived the idea of effecting their escape; and after the matter had been seriously discussed by a few of them, they undertook to tunnel out, by commencing operations in the cellar, near a chimney; the cellar being under the hospital, and used as a receptacle of straw, thrown from the beds when changed, and for other refuse matter.

Those who were in the secret improvised a rope, and by removing a few stones from the chimney, nightly let working parties down into the cellar, who from thence prosecuted their projected excavation, hiding the dirt under the straw, after tramping it down, so as not to attract observation.

As the work progressed, a spittoon from the officer's room with a string attached was used for hauling the

dirt out, as filled by the digger, and returned empty by similar means.

After digging several feet with fingers, knives and chisels, the workers were stopped by piles driven in the ground, at least a foot in diameter. Undismayed, however, by this obstacle, such knives as were to be had were put in requisition, and after a tedious and laborious operation, a passage was effected through them, and then in a few moments the tunnels reached the

sewer.

But here, the stench of the sewers, and the flow of filthy water, proved an insurmountable obstacle to men whom neither earth nor wood could check, and the project in that direction was necessarily abandoned.

Communicating their failure to others, a party of seventeen, after viewing the premises and surroundings, concluded to tunnel under Carey street, on the opposite side of which was a carriage house, under which they proposed to emerge. There was a high fence around it, the guard being on the outside of it. The prisoners then commenced digging on the other side of the chimney, but were soon stopped by a stone wall three feet thick. Knives were again called into requisition, by the diligent use of which, nineteen days and nights upon the mortar, enabling them to remove the stones, a passage through the wall was effected, and excavation resumed on the other side.

After digging some days it was thought the point must be nearly reached for coming out; and to test the matter, Captain Gallagher, of the 2d Ohio regiment, under pretence of having a box in the carriage house, for which he wished to search, (that place being the receptacle for goods sent the prisoners from the North,)

was permitted to go, under guard, to the carriage house; and in passing paced the distance as well as he could, without exciting suspicion, and concluded that the street was about fifty feet in width.

On the 6th or 7th of February, concluding they had gone far enough, the workers commenced digging upward, when hearing the guards talking above them, they found that they were yet a few feet outside the fence. A small hole was made up through the surface of the ground by the falling in of a stone, the noise of which was heard by a sentinel, who asking his comrade what it meant, they after listening awhile concluded it was rats, and proceeded on their beats. The hole was stopped with an old pair of pantaloons filled with straw, and supported by boards brought from the prison.

The tunnel was then continued six or seven feet further, and feeling assured that there was no further impediment to their emerging into daylight, the working party informed others in the prison that there was a way open for escape. One hundred and nine of them decided to make the attempt. Others, fearing the consequences of recapture, declined.

On the evening of the 9th of February, about halfpast eight o'clock, the prisoners started out, Colonel Rose, of New York, leading the van. Before going out they had divided themselves into squads of two, three, and four, and each squad was to take a different route, after getting out, and to push for the Union lines.

The aperture was so narrow, that but one man could go out at a time, and each squad carried provisions with them in a haversack. Colonel W. P. Kendrick, of West Tennessee, Captain D. J. Jones, of the 1st Kentucky Cavalry, and Lieutenant R. Y. Bradford, of the 2d West