rude upon her with your insolent
attentions, I'll--I'll--I'll horsewhip you!"

These last words seemed to be forced from him by an effort; when, pale
with anger at being so addressed in the presence of Isa, Brace took a
step towards the Viscount, with his fists clenched, and his teeth set
upon his upper lip. But at that instant, when a collision seemed
imminent, an ejaculation of fear took Brace again to Isa's side.

"Do not be afraid," he whispered, with the anger fading out of his
countenance. "Forgive me for my thoughtless passion." He laid his hand
upon hers, pressing it upon the pommel of the saddle, as he gazed up in
her face. "This is rather hard to bear; but I will try."

"Confound you! are words of no use whatever?" exclaimed his lordship
angrily. And at the same moment the hunting-crop was raised, whistled
through the air, and descended heavily upon Brace Norton's shoulders,
causing him to start as if stung by some venomous reptile.

That which followed seemed to take place in an instant, for as Lord
Maudlaine's hand was raised to repeat the blow, something darted through
the air, striking him full upon the cheek, and he rolled over in the
dusty road, felled by a blow that would have shaken the equanimity of a
bullock.

"You dog--you cowardly miscreant!" hissed Brace between his teeth, as,
beside himself with passion, he stood with clenched fists over his
fallen adversary, till, recalling his promise, he once more hurried to
the side of the trembling girl.

"I forgot myself," he exclaimed, hastily; "I thought that I had more
self-control." Then seeing the working features and agitation the
fracas had caused, he added, hastily: "Dear Isa, I know I deserve your
anger--your contempt; but I have only one excuse to offer: it was
something new to me, and evoked passion of whose existence I was in
ignorance."

Isa could not speak; but as she listened to his pleading words, poor
girl!--perhaps she was very weak and foolish--she thought that she had
never seen Brace Norton look so brave and handsome before, and her eyes
betokened more love than anger as they returned the young man's gaze.

Meanwhile, foaming with rage, and covered with the chalky dust in which
he had involuntarily rolled, Lord Maudlaine stood, looking anything but
a hero, as the dismounted groom grinned to himself and dusted his
master's guest, rubbing him down with a gorgeous orange-and-white silk
handkerchief, all hot from out of his l