"Point him out to me, sister Harriet, and then, by"——
"No fighting! no fighting, brother!" cried Harriet, in some alarm, and speaking with eagerness. "Not a hair of the young man's head must be harmed; we have done him injury enough among us, perhaps, already. We must frighten him away: if I know him, we can legally expel him from the valley. Arrest, imprison him, banish him;—do any thing; but harm him not—that is, do him no harm with your own hands. If he have forfeited his life to the law, let the law take it. Now, brother, know your rival—it is the youngest brother of this dreadful Oran Gilbert."
"Saints and devils!" cried Falconer, with vivacity, "a Hawk of the Hollow! and dare to love Catherine Loring?"
"I could be sworn to it," said Harriet. "The circumstances that pointed out the assassin of my father, were but clews of thistle-down to the chains of evidence that led me to the knowledge of this skulking raven's character. The first circumstance was as strong as the last; an idle, thoughtless, nay, an accidental, pencil mark on a drawing opened my eyes in an instant; and heaven's light immediately streamed through them. But think him not the coarse cut-throat his name would indicate; he has had a gentleman's breeding, and such is his bearing. I doubt not that he is a confederate of his brother, perhaps even a spy; and, I am persuaded, it was he who counteracted our scheme of seizing the reprobates, and brought the poor soldier, Parker, to the gibbet. He must be arrested and examined. He knows he is suspected—he knows that I suspect him; but will, in his audacity, remain, in the assurance that no real proof can be brought against him.—That man, that painter, brother,—that Hunter? where did you leave him?"
"Leave him?" cried Falconer: "why, is he not here? Sure, he led the way hither; and sure I followed after him. A rare fellow, sister! I was going to blow his brains out; but, egad, I know him better, and, gad, I am coming on fast to adore him. Adzooks, as the Captain says, I picked up his letter, and"——
"His letter?" cried Harriet, eagerly; "where is it?"
"Here," said the lieutenant, drawing it from his pocket, wherein he had safely bestowed it.
"To the light! to the light!" cried the maiden, snatching it out of his hands, and running with the speed of a frighted deer towards the mansion, followed by her bewildered brother. A candle blazed in one of the windows that opened on the porch, and in the chamber it lighted, had she been disposed to look, Miss Falconer might have seen the gallant Captain Loring sitting upright in his arm-chair, but fast asleep, and filling half the house with the melody of his nostrils. To this window ran Miss Falconer, and hither she was followed by her brother; who, to his amazement and indignation, found her devouring the contents of the paper with the avidity of a malefactor poring over his own respite from a death of ignominy.
"Gad's my life, sister Hal!" cried the incensed soldier, "you have disgraced me for ever! What, reading the young fellow's letter?"
"Reading my letter!" cried Harriet, turning upon him a look inexpressibly fierce and triumphant. "Was not this suspicion as prophetic as the other? The dead Parker speaks to me, and from his grave affords me proof even stronger than I sought. Oh, villain! villain! audacious, inconceivably audacious, villain! Their lieutenant? His intimacy with, his designs upon Catherine Loring, revealed even to his ribald companions? and made their theme of speech! their jest! Oh, what a rival have you suffered to approach your betrothed wife, Harry Falconer! This convicts, doubly convicts him.—What ho, uncle! Captain Loring, awake! Where is Catherine? Uncle! uncle!"