he, with a faint smile; "so many
miles--so many days--so long a deferment of knowing the best, or
preparing to meet the worst. But, be it so! I thank you, Sir,--I thank
you all,--Lester, Madeline, for your kindness; you two must now leave
me; the brand is on my name--the suspected man is no fit object for love
or friendship! Farewell!"

"We go with you!" said Madeline firmly, and in a very low voice.

Aram's eye sparkled, but he waved his hand impatiently.

"We go with you, my friend!" repeated Lester.

And so, indeed, not to dwell long on a painful scene, it was finally
settled. Lester and his two daughters that evening followed Aram to the
dark and fatal bourne to which he was bound.

It was in vain that Walter, seizing his uncle's hands, whispered,

"For Heaven's sake, do not be rash in your friendship! You have not
yet learnt all. I tell you, that there can be no doubt of his guilt!
Remember, it is a brother for whom you mourn! will you countenance his
murderer?"

Lester, despite himself, was struck by the earnestness with which his
nephew spoke, but the impression died away as the words ceased: so
strong and deep had been the fascination which Eugene Aram had exercised
over the hearts of all once drawn within the near circle of his
attraction, that had the charge of murder been made against himself,
Lester could not have repelled it with a more entire conviction of the
innocence of the accused. Still, however, the deep sincerity of his
nephew's manner in some measure served to soften his resentment towards
him.

"No, no, boy!" said he, drawing away his hand, "Rowland Lester is not
the one to desert a friend in the day of darkness and the hour of need.
Be silent I say!--My brother, my poor brother, you tell me, has been
murdered. I will see justice done to him: but, Aram! Fie! fie! it is a
name that would whisper falsehood to the loudest accusation. Go, Walter!
go! I do not blame you!--you may be right--a murdered father is a dread
and awful memory to a son! What wonder that the thought warps your
judgment? But go! Eugene was to me both a guide and a blessing; a father
in wisdom, a son in love. I cannot look on his accuser's face without
anguish. Go! we shall meet again.--How! Go!"

"Enough, Sir!" said Walter, partly in anger, partly in sorrow--"Time be
the judge between us all!"

With those words he turned from the house, and proceeded on foot towards
a cottage half way between Grassdale and the Magist