“Hey!” ejaculated the Yankee. “See here, mister, that ’ere’s a mighty strong expression for a man o’ your heft tew spout forth tew a State o’ Maine wild-cat. I’ve a powerful itchin’ tew swipe you one across the bill for that, you goll-darn, sneakin’, ignominious fag-end o’ creation, you! By the jumpin’ Jemima! ef I didn’t know you was subject to crazy-spells, I’m blowed ef I wouldn’t paint your cheeks for you. I lie, dew I? Oh, wade intew me, and let me knock you intew a grease-spot. Lucky for you, mister, that you ain’t smart, for ef you was I’d do like Tabitha Simpson used tew say her brother done—”
But Jim McCabe waited to hear no more. Suddenly remembering that he was wasting precious moments, and beginning to entertain a perfect horror of that spot, he determined to be off without further loss of time. Shouldering his gun, he strode past Boggs without a word, and walked rapidly away.
“Hold on!” shouted Jonathan. “Where you gwine tew?”
“Go to the devil!” was the savage response.
“The same tew yew and yewr’n,” called out the imperturbable clock-peddler. Jim McCabe made no reply to this, but plunged resolutely into the gloomy forest, and resumed his night-journey toward the west. His nerves were completely shattered, and he shook as if he were afflicted with ague, but he set his face firmly against all obstacles, and pushed steadily on.
“I wonder if I really am subject to spells of insanity?” he whispered, shrugging his shoulders. “I didn’t think of that, till that fellow mentioned it. He said he was sitting on the grave when I shot, and I could take my oath I saw Trafford and Miss Moreland there as plain as I ever saw them in my life. Good God! what can it mean? Surely I could not be insane without knowing it afterward, but how else can it be explained? Oh, this will drive me mad if I don’t banish it from my mind. I almost wish I had not committed that awful deed, but now that it is done, I shall gain my purpose or die! Yes, by the stars in yonder sky, that haughty girl shall be mine ere the setting of two more suns.”
CHAPTER VII.
BOGGS ADRIFT.
“I wonder what detains Isabel?” said Mrs. Moreland, for the twentieth time, perhaps, as she and the rest of the party sat in the boats, awaiting the maiden’s return.
“I can not guess,” said her husband, uneasily, at the same time listening intently, with the hope of catching the sound of that familiar footstep in the woods above. “She has been gone long enough, almost, to have gone there and back three or four times, and she gave us to understand before starting that she would not be absent a greater while than it would require to run home, procure her case of trinkets, and return.”
“Perhaps,” continued the fond mother, willing to believe any thing that would excuse the absent one, “perhaps she has met a friend, who has so much to say at parting that she finds it difficult to tear herself away.”