pace that divided him
from the object of his attention at a single step, bore her from the
earth in his arms with as much ease as if she had been an infant, and
then returning to his own rude couch, placed his horror-stricken victim
at his side.

"Nay, nay," he urged sarcastically, as she vainly struggled to free
herself; "let the De Haldimar portion of your blood rise up in anger if
it will; but that of Clara Beverley, at least--."

"Gracious Providence! where am I, that I hear the name of my sainted
mother thus familiarly pronounced?" interrupted the startled girl; "and
who are you,"--turning her eyes wildly on the swarthy countenance of
the warrior,--"who are you, I ask, who, with the mien and in the garb
of a savage of these forests, appear thus acquainted with her name?"

The warrior passed his hand across his brow for a moment, as if some
painful and intolerable reflection had been called up by the question;
but he speedily recovered his self-possession, and, with an expression
of feature that almost petrified his auditor, vehemently observed,--

"You ask who I am! One who knew your mother long before the accursed
name of De Haldimar had even been whispered in her ear; and whom love
for the one and hatred for the other has rendered the savage you now
behold! But," he continued, while a fierce and hideous smile lighted up
every feature, "I overlook my past sufferings in my present happiness.
The image of Clara Beverley, even such as my soul loved her in its
youth, is once more before me in her child; THAT child shall be my
wife!"

"Your wife! monster;--never!" shrieked the unhappy girl, again vainly
attempting to disengage herself from the encircling arm of the savage.
"But," she pursued, in a tone of supplication, while the tears coursed
each other down her cheek, "if you ever loved my mother as you say you
have, restore her children to their home; and, if saints may be
permitted to look down from heaven in approval of the acts of men, she
whom you have loved will bless you for the deed."

A deep groan burst from the vast chest of Wacousta; but, for a moment,
he answered not. At length he observed, pointing at the same time with
his finger towards the cloudless vault above their heads,--"Do you
behold yon blue sky, Clara de Haldimar?"

"I do;--what mean you?" demanded the trembling girl, in whom a
momentary hope had been excited by the subdued manner of the savage.

"Nothing," he coolly rejoined; "only th