“Say it is,” suggested one of the neighbors; “may be it may startle the poor thing into her senses.”
“That's not very likely,” replied another, “for it has startled her out of them—God in his mercy pity her!”
Raymond, however, adopted the first suggestion, without knowing why; and said in a loud voice—
“Ay is it; my name is Val the Vulture, that commands the blood-hounds.”
The creature started—became for a moment as if convulsed—then proceeded at a speed that was incredible, screaming frightfully, across the dark and desolate scenery that surrounded the house. It was vain to pursue her; for there was none there capable of doing it with success, unless Raymond, who understood not that she had become insane.
CHAPTER IX.—A Dialogue, exhibiting Singular Principles of Justice
—Solomon's Tracts and Triumph—A Sincere Convert—Darby's Views of Religion—Poll Doolin's Honesty—Solomon's Christian Generosity to a Man in Difficulty—M'Loughlin and his Family.
The extraordinary scene which we have just detailed as occurring in the mountain hut, took place on Saturday morning and about twelve on the subsequent Monday, the following dialogue passed between honest Val! and his son, Philip the graceful.
“That was a most unlucky accident that happened Harpur on Saturday,” said Val, dryly, and looking with a good deal of significance at the other.