e circumstances
were, they gave birth at the time to the most extravagant hopes, which
filled me with a sort of ecstasy. I almost fancied that she loved
me,--she, the proud, highborn, beautiful lady. Alas! I knew little of
the coquetry of woman's nature, or that a girl of her rank and fortune
would condescend to notice a poor lad like me, to gratify her own vanity
and love of admiration.

I went home intoxicated with delight; and that night I dreamt I found a
vast sum of gold beneath a pine-tree in one of the plantations, and that
Ella Carlos had consented to become my wife. My vision of happiness was,
however, doomed to fade. The next day Mrs. Carlos and her son and
daughter left the Hall, and I did not see her again before she went.

For weeks after their departure I moped about in a listless, dispirited
manner, loathing my menial occupation, and despising the low origin
which formed an insurmountable barrier between me and the beautiful
mistress of my heart.

I was soon roused from these unprofitable speculations, and called to
take an active part in the common duties of my every-day life. Some
desperadoes had broken into the preserves, and carried off a large
quantity of game. Mr. Carlos vowed vengeance on the depredators, and
reprimanded me severely for my neglect.

This galled my pride, and made me return with double diligence to my
business. After watching for a few nights, I had every reason to believe
that the poacher was no other than my old enemy. Bill Martin, after an
absence of several years in America, had suddenly reappeared in the
village, and was constantly seen at the public-house, in the company of
a set of worthless, desperate characters. He had sunk into the low
blackguard, and manifested his hatred to me by insulting me on all
occasions. My dislike to this ruffian was too deep to find vent in
words. I was always brooding over his injurious conduct, and planning
schemes of vengeance.

One day, in going through the plantations, I picked up a large American
bowie-knife, with Bill Martin's name engraved upon the handle. This I
carefully laid by, hoping that it might prove useful on some future
occasion. Meanwhile, the game was nightly thinned; and the caution and
dexterity with which the poachers acted, baffled me and my colleagues in
all our endeavours to surprise them in the act.

CHAPTER XVI.

TEMPTATION.

"That Bill Martin is a desperate ruffian," said Mr. Carlos to me one
mornin