"He is no villain, father," said Mildred, indignantly. "These are the wretched forgeries of that unworthy man who has won your confidence—a man who is no less an enemy to your happiness than he is a selfish contriver against mine. The story is not true: it is one of Tyrrel's basest falsehoods."
"And Butler was not here; you would persuade me so, Mildred?"
"He was in the neighborhood for a single night; he journeyed southwards in the course of his duty," answered Mildred, mildly.
"And had no confederates with him?"
"He was attended by a guide—only one—and hurried onwards without delay."
"And you met him on that single night—by accident, I suppose?"
"Do you doubt my truth, father?"
"Mildred, Mildred! you will break my heart. Why was he here at all—why did you meet him?"
"He came, father—" said Mildred, struggling to speak through a sudden burst of tears.
"Silence! I will hear no apology!" exclaimed Lindsay. Then relenting in an instant, he took his daughter's hand, as he said: "My child, thou art innocent in thy nature, and knowest not the evil imaginings of this world. He wickedly lied, if he told you that he came casually hither, or that his stay was circumscribed to one short night. I have proofs, full and satisfactory, that, for several days, he lay concealed in this vicinity; and, moreover, that his scheme was frustrated only by an unexpected discovery, made through the indiscretion of a drunken bully, who came linked with him in his foul embassy. It was a shameless lie, invented to impose upon your credulity, if he gave you room to believe otherwise."