unison with my spirit: as if they too had taken
their cue from the ill-omened bodings of my Indian oracle! A
storm-cloud had suddenly obscured the sun--black as the wing of the
buzzard-vulture. Red shafts were shooting athwart the sky--threatening
to scathe the trees of the forest; thunder rolled continuously along
their tops; and huge isolated rain-drops, like gouts of blood, came
pattering down upon the leaves--soon to fall thick and continuous! I
heeded not these indications. At that moment, what where the elements
to me? What cared I for the clouds or rain--lightning, thunder, or the
riven forest? There was a cloud on my own heart--an electric rush
through my veins--of far more potent spell than the shadows of the sky,
or the coruscations of the ethereal fire. "The wolf has slept in the
lair of the forest deer: the yellow fawn will be his victim. You will
be too late--too late!" These were clouds to be regarded--the fires to
be feared. No heavenly light to guide me along the path, but a flame
infernal burning in my breast?

The bars were down, but it mattered not: I would have leaped the fence,
had there been no gateway; but the entrance to the enclosure was free;
and, galloping through it, I drew bridle in front of the hut. The door
was open--wide open, as was its wont; and I could see most of the
interior. No one appeared within! no one came forth to greet me!

Inside, I observed some pieces of rude furniture--several chairs and a
rough table. I had noticed them on my first visit. They were now in
the same place--just as I had seen them before. One of my apprehensions
was allayed by the sight: the family was still there. "Strange that no
one hears me! that no one comes out to receive me!"

I made these reflections, after having waited a considerable while.
"Surely I was expected? It was the time named by Holt himself? The day
and hour! Was I again unwelcome? and had the squatter relapsed into his
uncourteous mood?"

It certainly had that appearance: more especially, since it was raining
at the moment--as if the very clouds were coming down--and I stood in
need of shelter. But that grievance was little thought of. I was
suffering a chagrin, far more intolerable than the tempest. Where was
Lilian? Such cool reception, on her part, I had not expected. It was
indeed a surprise. Had I mistaken the character of this Idyllian
damsel? Was she, too, an arch creature--a coquette? Had she bestow