“Well, perhaps I am,” she said, gaining confidence from his firmness of manner; “but I assure you, Frank, I am not timid, nor a coward. I can load a gun, pistol, or blunderbuss, and what is better still, can discharge them without shrinking; so can my sister; but with respect to anything of a supernatural character—”
“You are a great coward. I perceive that; but, my dear Julia, to pass to a subject of the deepest interest to my happiness:—why is it that there has been an appearance of gloom and distrust about you for such a length of time? I think there should be nothing but the most unbounded confidence between us.”
“Have you been perfectly candid with me, Frank?”
“If you remember, dear Julia, you did not afford me an opportunity. You looked as if you felt offended, and I could perceive that you had withdrawn your confidence.”
“My mind is too much distracted now,” she replied, “to speak on this subject; but, if you wish it, I shall tell you, on Monday next, why I have appeared so.”
“Wish it! alas! my dear Julia, I can only say that my affection for you knows no bounds. Julia, you know I have loved you; and, happen what may, I shall carry that affection for you to my grave. Only say that the affection which you have already confessed for me is not cooled or diminished; only say it, dearest life, and you will relieve my heart of a heavy load.”
She fixed her beautiful dark eyes upon him, as if she were in the act of scrutinizing his very spirit; at length, she seemed to have arrived at a fixed conclusion; two or three tears slowly followed each other down her cheeks, and she replied, “I fear, Frank, I have been led to do you injustice; that is, to doubt your truth or your honor; yes,” she added, in a low confiding voice, “I feel that I love you as I ever did. But I am depressed, and my heart is full of an unaccountable sorrow.”
“My ever—ever dear—dearest Julia!” he exclaimed, as he pressed her to his heart; where she sobbed, and tenderly reacknowledged her love. “On Monday, however,” she observed, after having somewhat composed herself, “I shall tell you, at full length, the circumstances that have disturbed me with respect to you.” Another kiss as they separated, and so it was arranged between them.
When Mogue Moylan heard that John purcel had gone to the gunsmith's for the blunderbluss, he stealthily sought the barn where he slept, and, putting on a great frieze coat, he went to the haggard; approached the stack, and thrusting his hand up the thatch, secured a case of pistols that had been left with him and Jerry Joyce for their defence, and fixing them under his coat, deliberately took his departure.
“I'll have betther luck,” he said to himself, “to join the boys, and as I have my own party among them that'll stand to me, we'll have the best chance. I'm to take charge o' the girls for him, after the men's shot; an' it'll go hard if I don't do him out o' the one he's set upon. If I sted in the house, as I intended at first, maybe it's a bullet from the boys I'd get into me. No—no—every way—think of it as I will, it's my wisest plan to cut; an' at any rate, he'd find me out now about the blunderbuss. Have her, however, I will, or lose a fall for it.”