“I acknowledge it to be thine,” said. Marmaduke; “and much more deeply am I indebted to thee than for this piece of venison. But in the morning thou wilt call here, and we can adjust this, as well as more important matters Elizabeth”—for the young lady, being apprised that the wound was dressed, had re-entered the hall—“thou wilt order a repast for this youth before we proceed to the church; and Aggy will have a sleigh prepared to convey him to his friend.”

“But, sir, I cannot go without a part of the deer,” returned the youth, seemingly struggling with his own feelings; “I have already told you that I needed the venison for myself.”

“Oh, we will not be particular,” exclaimed Richard; “the Judge will pay you in the morning for the whole deer; and, Remarkable, give the lad all the animal excepting the saddle; so, on the whole, I think you may consider yourself as a very lucky young man—you have been shot without being disabled; have had the wound dressed in the best possible manner here in the woods, as well as it would have been done in the Philadelphia hospital, if not better; have sold your deer at a high price, and yet can keep most of the carcass, with the skin in the bargain. 'Marky, tell Tom to give him the skin too, and in the morning bring the skin to me and I will give you half a dollar for it, or at least three-and-sixpence. I want just such a skin to cover the pillion that I am making for Cousin Bess.”

“I thank you, sir, for your liberality, and, I trust, am also thankful for my escape,” returned the stranger; “but you reserve the very part of the animal that I wished for my own use. I must have the saddle myself.”

“Must!” echoed Richard; “must is harder to be swallowed than the horns of the buck.”

“Yes, must,” repeated the youth; when, turning his head proudly around him, as if to see who would dare to controvert his rights, he met the astonished gaze of Elizabeth, and proceeded more mildly: “That is, if a man is allowed the possession of that which his hand hath killed, and the law will protect him in the enjoyment of his own.”

“The law will do so,” said Judge Temple, with an air of mortification mingled with surprise. “Benjamin, see that the whole deer is placed in the sleigh; and have this youth conveyed to the hut of Leather Stocking. But, young man thou hast a name, and I shall see you again, in order to compensate thee for the wrong I have done thee?”

“I am called Edwards,” returned the hunter; “Oliver Edwards, I am easily to be seen, sir, for I live nigh by, and am not afraid to show my face, having never injured any man.”

“It is we who have injured you, sir,” said Elizabeth; “and the knowledge that you decline our assistance would give my father great pain. He would gladly see you in the morning.”

The young hunter gazed at the fair speaker until his earnest look brought the blood to her temples; when, recollecting himself, he bent his head, dropping his eyes to the carpet, and replied: