"You must not think," continued the same voice, "to make me the dupe of your arts: as well might you try to rob the eagle of its young, as to deceive Richard Florence !" "Deception, especially towards you, my father, I never practised!" firmly replied the girl. "Would that I could think so," added Florence: "but tell me who parted from you a moment ago?" The moon was at this instant just peering above the hills, and shone full upon the daughter and sire, as they stood in each other's presence. "Why are you silent?" asked Florence, in a stern voice. "Speak-I command you! Do not trifle with one so ungovernable in his temper. Who was it, I repeat, that you parted with just now ?" "He was a young gentleman residing in a distant part of the country." "A young gentleman-eh? How happened he in this neighbourhood ?" "A few weeks ago he passed through here on a hunting excursion; he then saw me for the first time, and to-day I accidentally met him at the cottage." "What is his name?" "There are reasons, my father, why I should not reveal it," answered the girl, in a subdued tone, as though fearful of giving offence. "I do not understand you-explain." "Will you promise to hear me with kindness and forbearance ?" "Yes." "Let me frankly confess, then, that there is one of your acknowledged friends of whom I stand in awe." "Whom do you mean?" "Captain Despard !" "What have you to fear from him?” “Pardon me, but is he not brutal and desperate in his character ?" "What if I admit it?" 66 Might he not plot the young gentleman's destruction?" "You speak in mystery! what could be his motive ?" "You know he professes for me an attachment; of the nature of this I am ignorant, or I might answer your question." "Your surmises are unjust," returned Florence, somewhat angrily: "but tell me if you are not leagued with this stranger in some conspiracy that may endanger my happiness?" "As I hope for mercy-no!" "Words! words!" repeated the doubting and unnatural parent: "I must have other proofsyou must swear!” "Whose blood runs in my veins," haughtily replied the girl," that an oath is required before I can be believed? Who is my sire, that I must be accused of deception in my very girlhood? What ground have you for suspicion? You ask me to swear that I have not made you the object of a conspiracy? Were these not your words? Ay! freely will I swear that Emily Florence is above all stratagem—that she has nothing done in concert with others, which she is not willing for the world to know!" The father stood sometime in a silent and musing attitude, with his eyes fixed intently upon the ground; Emily, meanwhile, walked leisurely away; Florence at length followed, and soon they disappeared from my sight. CHAPTER XIX. My claim ye can scarce refuse; For when honest folk live on their neighbours, then Song in Paul Cliffora. I WOUND my way slowly and pensively home, musing upon my late singular adventures. The conference between Florence and his daughter was of a strange and remarkable character. She had spoken with fearlessness and independence—her tones, more than her words, expressing the indignation she felt at being an object of suspicion. Captain Despard she represented as abandoned and profligate, notwithstanding he was the bosom friend of her father, and darkly hinted at the unholy purpose which, it would seem, he had in view; while Florence, in his turn, was apprehensive that his daughter was engaged in some conspiracy, of which he was to be the unfortunate object. Added to this, I did not forget the intima tion of Meg Lawler, that Emily was not the daughter of Florence-that the latter, also, in company with Despard, was the person who went away with her husband on the memorable December night, during his residence in London. As it is a long three miles to Essex, I will transport the reader, without delay, to the vicinity of the pines, where the valorous Bunting so distinguished himself in the late duel. It was midnight; and midnight, we all know, is a very solemn hour. The villagers had long ago retired to rest. The moon was partially hid by a thin mass of straggling clouds; and moaningly the night-wind swept through the branches of the pines. As I hurried along, anxious to reach home as soon as possible, I was startled by a sudden cry, as of one in distress. I looked around, and, at some distance, saw a wretched looking female, lying upon the grass. She was apparently old and feeble, and made several unsuccessful attempts to rise. Her tattered dress hung about her person almost in ribands. Her head was covered with a slouched bonnet, which came down over her face, so as to conceal her features. "You have come to help a lone woman, have VOL. I.-R |