k battled the point with considerable warmth and vigor, and the scene
was something further protracted, but need not here be prolonged. The
father was obdurate, and too much dreaded by the members of his family
to admit of much prayer or pleading on their part. Apart from this, his
reason, though a stern, was a wise and strong one. The intercession of
Colleton, warmly made, proved equally unavailing; and after a brief but
painful parting with the maiden, Forrester remounted his horse, and, in
company with the youth, departed for the village. But the adieus of the
lovers, in this instance, were not destined to be the last. In the
narrow passage, in which, removed from all sight and scrutiny, she hung
droopingly, like a storm-beaten flower, upon his bosom, he solicited,
and not unsuccessfully, a private and a parting interview.

"To-night, then, at the old sycamore, as the moon rises," he whispered
in her ear, as sadly and silently she withdrew from his embrace.

CHAPTER XVIII.

PARTING AND FLIGHT.

With Ralph, the unhappy woodman, thus even denied to hope, returned,
more miserable than before, to the village of Chestatee. The crowd there
had been largely diminished. The more obnoxious among the
offenders--those who, having taken the most prominent part in the late
affair, apprehended the severest treatment--had taken themselves as much
out of sight as possible. Even Munro and Rivers, with all their
hardihood, were no longer to be seen, and those still lingering in the
village were such as under no circumstances might well provoke suspicion
of "subtle deed and counter enterprise." They were the fat men, the beef
of society--loving long speeches and goodly cheer. The two friends, for
so we may call them, were left almost in the exclusive possession of the
hotel, and without observation discussed their several plans of
departure. Forrester had determined to commence his journey that very
night; while Ralph, with what might seem headstrong rashness, chose the
ensuing day for a like purpose.

But the youth was not without his reasons for this determination. He
knew perfectly well that he was in peril, but felt also that this peril
would be met with much more difficulty by night than by day. Deeming
himself secure, comparatively speaking, while actually in the village,
he felt that it would be safer to remain there another night, than by
setting off at mid-day, encounter the unavoidable risk of either
pursuing his