"Foolish man!" I exclaimed; "that was only an eclipse, a thing that returns continually at fixed and certain periods by the mere movements of the earth and the moon. But, without argument, what have you to tell me? Give me the information you promised about Miss Davenport." He mused for a moment with a very gloomy brow; and although I cannot of course tell exactly what were his thoughts, I believe that the idea of the sign in the heavens, on which he laid so much stress, being a mere natural phenomenon, gave him much discomfort. At length he murmured, as if speaking to himself,--
"An eclipse!--I have heard of such things. No, no; it was the sign--it was the sign. Well, well," he continued, turning his face to me; "I will tell you. Do you remember going out to walk with Bessy Davenport, and sitting with her under an old tree, and a long conversation you had with her, and how she wept and told you, though she loved you, she could never be your wife?--I was very near you then, though you did not know it."
"I did not, indeed," I replied. "But what of that?"
"Well," responded Turner, "I was sorry for you; for I am not without a heart, though you may think so. There was something said about a packet of old letters, and she would not tell you what they contained, though in them lay the bar between you and her. Well, when the men had dashed in the door, and we found that she was gone, the others ran about like mad things seeking for her; but I stood still in the room, and I saw a packet of old letters lie upon the table. I took it up. It is the only thing, I have ever taken, except horses and arms; for I do not rob or steal; but I said to myself--'If ever I see that young Englishman again, he shall see this, and know the truth. Every man has a right to know the truth regarding his own fate.' Here it is, you can take it." Without rising, he drew the papers from his pocket, and held them forth to me. I rose hastily, and incautiously approached him without my arms. He gave me the paper; but at the same moment some evil spirit seemed to come over him, for his eyes rolled wildly in his head, and he murmured in a low, guttural tone--
"Now I could kill you."
"Do not be too sure of that," I answered, retreating.
"Fear not, fear not," he cried. "It is gone. It is a temptation, but it is over. It is pleasant to see the red blood of our enemies, and when we have seen it, we like to see more, and it becomes a thirst; but it is over." I seated myself by my arms again, and put the papers in my pocket.
"As to this packet," I said, "I thank you for it, and will give it to Miss Davenport as soon as I find her. You mistake me, however, if you imagine I will read a word of it before I give it to her. No man of honour would do so, even if he knew his happiness for life depended on it. Now, therefore, tell me where she is? What have you and your people done with her? for I gather from your words that you have not injured her." He gazed at me for a moment with a fixed stare, and then asked--
"Do you not know where she is?"
"No," I answered; "but you must know; for you and your people passed over the very spot where I left her, not five hundred yards from this place." He was silent for a moment or two, and then answered coldly,--