ble oath; "but now, when
disguise is no longer necessary, Simon Girty, the renegade,
by ----!--ha, ha, ha!"

As he uttered these words, in a coarse, ruffianly tone, a visible
shudder of fear or disgust, or both combined, passed through the frame
of each of the prisoners; and Algernon turning to him, with an
expression of loathing contempt, said:

"I more than half suspected as much, when I sometime since contemplated
your low-browed, hang-dog countenance. Of course we can expect no mercy
at such hands."

"Mercy!" cried Girty, turning fiercely upon him, his eyes gleaming
savagely, his mouth twisting into a shape intended to express the most
withering contempt, while his words fairly hissed from between his
tightly set teeth: "Mercy? dog! No, by h----l! for none like you! Hark ye,
Mr. Reynolds! Were you in the damnable cells of the Inquisition, accused
of heresy, and about to be put to the tortures, you might think yourself
in Paradise compared to what you shall yet undergo!"

As he uttered these words, Ella shrieked and fell fainting to the earth.
Springing to her, Girty raised her in his arms; and pointing to her pale
features, as he did so, continued:

"See! Mr. Reynolds, this girl loves you; I love her; we are rivals; and
you, my rival, are in my power: and, by ----! and all the powers of
darkness, you shall feel my vengeance!"

"You love her?" broke in Mrs. Younker, who, in spite of her previous
dangerous warning, could hold her peace no longer: "You love her! you
mean, contemptible, red headed puppy! I don't believe as how you knows
enough to love nothing! And so you're Simon Girty, hey? that thar
sneaking, red-coat renegade? Well, I reckon as how you've told the truth
once; for I've hearn tell that he war an orful mean looking imp o'
Satan; and I jest don't believe as how a meaner one nor yourself could
be skeer'd up in the whole universal yarth o' creation."

"Rail on, old woman!" replied Girty, as he chafed the temples of Ella
with his hands; "but in a little lower key; or I shall be under the
necessity of ordering a stopper to your mouth; which, saving the
tortures of the stake, is the worst punishment for you I can now invent.
As for you, Mr. Younker," continued he, turning his face to the old man,
with a peculiar expression; "you seem to have nothing to say to an old
friend--ha, ha, ha!"

"Whensomever I mention the name o' Simon Girty," replied Younker, in a
deliberate and startlingly solemn tone, "I