“Let him settle it with Heaven then, as he must ere very long! but as for me—let me never see his face again! Come, child, our interview is over. Arise and walk on; I will follow you until I see you in sight of the north gate, and then leave you,” said Hollis Elverton, stepping aside to give her the path and then going after her.
They went up the narrow wooded path in silence. When they reached the top of the hill, and came in sight of the north gate, Mr. Elverton paused, and said:
“I need go no further; hurry home; but meet me here an hour earlier than this to-morrow evening. Good-night.”
“Good-night, my father,” said Alma, extending her hands imploringly towards him.
But he shook his head, waved his hand, plunged into the wood, and was soon lost to her view.
She looked wistfully after him for a little while, and then turned slowly, and with downcast eyes, to walk towards the house.
The full moon was shining broadly on her path, when suddenly its light was intercepted.
Alma raised her eyes to see the tall, dark figure of Captain Montrose standing before her, with folded arms, frowning brows, and scornful lips.
We have observed before this that Norham Montrose, in mould of form and cast of features, was the very counterpart of his elder brother, but in every other respect he was as different from him as the night from the day. Malcolm, it may be remembered, was as fair as a Dane, with light hair, blue eyes, and a sanguine complexion; he was also frank, generous, and confiding. Norham, on the contrary, was as dark as a Spaniard, with raven-black hair and burning black eyes; he was, besides, reserved, jealous, and suspicious.
Alma, conscious of these darker traits in his character, fearing their effects upon himself and her, yet loving him despite of danger, shivered with the presentiment of coming evil when she saw him standing before her so silent, still, and stern.