Black Prophet, was seen to proceed towards the
garden--both in close conversation. The Prophet's face was now free from
the consequences of young Dalton's violence, but it had actually
gained in malignity more than it had lost by the discoloration and
disfigurement resulting from the blow. There was a calm, dark grin
visible when he smiled, that argued a black and satanic disposition; and
whenever the lips of his hard, contracted, and unfeeling mouth expanded
by his devilish sneer, a portion of one of his vile side fangs became
visible, which gave to his features a most hateful and viper-like
aspect. It was the cold, sneering, cowardly face of a man who took
delight in evil for its own sake, and who could neither feel happiness
himself, nor suffer others to enjoy it.

As they were about to enter the garden Donnel Dhu saw approaching him at
a rapid and energetic pace, his daughter Sarah, whose face, now lit up
by exercise, as well as by the earnest expression of deep interest which
might be read in it, never before appeared so strikingly animated and
beautiful.

"Who is this lovely girl approaching us?" asked the young man, whose
eyes at once kindled with surprise and admiration.

"That is my daughter," replied Donnel, coldly; "what can she want with
me now, and what brought her here?"

"Upon my honor, Donnel, that girl surpasses anything I have seen yet.
Why she's perfection--her figure is--is--I haven't words for it--and her
face--good heavens! what brilliancy and animation!"

[Illustration: PAGE 834-- The Prophet's brow darkened]

The Prophet's brow darkened at his daughter's unseasonable appearance in
the presence of a handsome young fellow of property, whose character for
gallantry was proverbial in the country.

"Sarah, my good girl," said he, whilst his voice, which at once became
low and significant, quivered with suppressed rage--"what brought you
here, I ax? Did any one send for you? or is there a matther of life and
death on hands, that you tramp afther me in this manner--eh?"

"It may be life an' death for any thing I know to the contrary," she
replied; "you are angry at something, I see," she proceeded--"but to
save time, I want to spake to you."

"You must wait till I go home, then, for I neither can nor will spake to
you now."

"Father, you will--you must," she replied--"and in some private place
too. I won't detain you long, for I haven't much to say, and if I don't
say it now, it may be