A bright blush proved that he had hit upon the truth; but the probing nature of his questions roused the girl’s spirit, and raising her eyes, she looked him full in the face as she in her turn inquired—“And pray, sir, who are you? and what right have you to question me in this way?”
“My name is Lewis Arundel; I reside at Broadhurst, as tutor to Sir Walter Desborough,” was the reply; “and my right to ask you these questions is the right every man possesses to do his best to counteract the designs of a heartless libertine; for such I take your friend to be, and now I will give you my reasons for thinking him so. In the first place, he has not told you his true name: he is not Lord Bellefield’s brother, as he pretends, but Lord Bellefield himself; and in the second place, at the very moment when he is making professions of affection here to you, he is engaged to be married to his cousin, the daughter of General Grant.”
“It is not true, you hate him,” exclaimed the girl with flashing eyes. “You quarrelled with him last night, and now you seek to revenge yourself by sowing dissension between him and me, but you shall not succeed. I see through your meanness, and despise you for it.”
“Girl, you are infatuated,” returned Lewis angrily, “and must reap the fruits of your obstinate folly. I spoke only for your good, and told you the simple truth. If you choose to disbelieve me, the sin will lie at your door, and not mine.”
As he spoke he turned and left her. By the time he reached the gate into the wood his conscience began to reproach him for having been too hasty. He looked back to see if the girl were still there; she had not moved from the spot where he had quitted her, but stood motionless, apparently buried in the deepest thought. Suddenly observing that his eyes were directed towards her, she started, and drawing her shawl closer around her, hurried away in an opposite direction. Lewis watched her retreating figure till it became no longer visible; then getting over the gate, he walked leisurely along the turfed road to rejoin his companions. He was no coward, far from it; but had he known that at that moment a gun-barrel covered him, levelled by the stalwart arm and keen eye of one before whose unerring aim by the broad light of day, or beneath the cold rays of the moon, hare, pheasant, or partridge fell like leaves in autumn—one who, hiding from the gaze of men, had witnessed his parting from the girl not five minutes since,—had he known the deep interest felt for her by this person, and how, his suspicions being aroused, he had watched day after day to discover the features of her clandestine suitor, but had never succeeded, till, creeping through the bushes, he had accidentally come up at the moment when Lewis, having spoken eagerly to her, turned and left the spot,—had he known the struggle between the good and evil principle in that man’s heart, a struggle on the result of which depended life or death,—had he known all this, Lewis Arundel, though a brave man, would scarcely have paced that greenwood alley with a pulse so calm, a brow so unruffled and serene.
