He knew now; he was convinced; he saw it all. Violet had indeed gone away with Will Venners; though why she should have taken such a course, Leonard was unable to guess.
They had evidently come by this secluded and unfrequented route to the town and the train; they had halted at this spot, perhaps to arrange their future course; for at this lonely place they would be quite alone, and in no danger of being interrupted or overheard.
Sick at heart, and fully satisfied that the woman he loved was false, Leonard mounted his horse once more and turned to go back to Yorke Towers. Overwhelmed with his trouble, his mind quite preoccupied, he did not observe the course that his horse was taking. He sat with bowed head, his thoughts busy; and as he forgot to guide his horse, the animal had everything his own way. So he carried Leonard on, playing, as it happened, into the very hands of Destiny.
When at last Leonard lifted his head, arousing himself with an effort from the heart-broken reverie into which he had fallen, he found himself in a lonely and secluded spot on the edge of a dreary swamp; and there at his very feet, lying upon the ground, was the body of a man.
With a suppressed cry, Leonard leaped from his horse and made his way hastily to the side of the prostrate man. Something familiar in his aspect struck to the young man’s heart, and with a feeling of horror stealing over him, he lifted the man’s head upon his knee and gazed into the death-like face.
Powers above! it was Will Venners! He lay there utterly unconscious, his head bleeding profusely from a severe wound just above the temple. A trifle lower and he would have been dead. For, although at first Leonard believed that it was a corpse upon which he was gazing, he soon discovered that the poor fellow’s heart was beating a little—faintly and feebly, it is true, but still it was beating.
Leonard laid the poor head gently down upon the ground once more, his heart stirred to profoundest pity. Yet all the time he was conscious of a wild thrill of joy and ecstatic delight to know that Violet had not eloped with Will Venners, after all. And since it was not Will Venners, why, then, there was some mistake, surely; for there was no one else whom Leonard had the least reason to suspect or fear.
He brought water in his hat from the bayou near and bathed the brow of the unconscious man, and stanched the blood, which, as it flowed profusely, would doubtless be the means of saving his life.
At last Will opened his eyes.
“Jessie,” he murmured, faintly.