When they reached the small window they made out the form of the negro.
"What is it, Sam ?" whispered Jonathan.
"Look, see thar, Massa Zane," came the answer in a hoarse whisper from the negro and at the same time he pointed down toward the ground.
Col.

Zane put his head alongside Jonathan's and all three men peered out into the darkness.
"Jack, can you see anything ?" said Col.

Zane.
"No, but wait a minute until the moon throws a light." A breeze had sprung up.

The clouds were passing rapidly over the moon, and at long intervals a rift between the clouds let enough light through to brighten the square for an instant.
"Now, Massa Zane, thar!" exclaimed the slave.
"I can't see a thing.

Can you, Jack ?" "I am not sure yet.