er the charge of the old lady, Munro uttered a few
consolatory words in Lucy's ear, but she heard him not. Her thoughts
evidently wandered to other than selfish considerations at that moment,
and, as he left the chamber, she raised her finger impressively:--

"Do no murder, uncle! let him not persuade you into crime; break off
from a league which compels you to brook a foul insult to those you are
bound in duty to protect."

"Would I could!" was his muttered sentence as he left the chamber. He
felt the justice of the counsel, but wore the bewildered expression of
countenance of one conscious of what is right, but wanting courage for
its adoption.

"She has told you no foolish story of me?" was the somewhat anxious
speech of Rivers upon the reappearance of the landlord.

"She has said nothing in plain words, Guy Rivers--but yet quite enough
to make me doubt whether you, and not this boy we pursue, should not
have my weapon in your throat. But beware! The honor of that child of
Edgar Munro is to me what would have been my own; and let me find that
you have gone a tittle beyond the permitted point, in speech or action,
and we cut asunder. I shall then make as little bones of putting a
bullet through your ribs as into those of the wild bullock of the hills.
_I_ am what I am: my hope is that _she_ may always be the pure creature
which she now is, if it were only that she might pray for me."

"She has mistaken me, Munro--"

"Say no more, Guy. She has not _much_ mistaken you, or I have. Let us
speak no more on this subject; you know my mind, and will be
advised.--Let us now be off. The horses are in readiness, and waiting,
and a good spur will bring us up with the game. The youth, you say, has
money about him, a gold watch, and--"

The more savage ruffian grinned as he listened to these words. They
betrayed the meaner motives of action in the case of the companion, who
could acknowledge the argument of cupidity, while insensible to that of
revenge.

"Ay! enough to pay you for your share in the performance Do your part
well, and you shall have all that he carries--gold, watch, trinkets,
horse, everything. I shall be quite content to take--his life! Are you
satisfied? Are there any scruples now?"

"No! none! I have no scruples! But to cut a throat, or blow out a man's
liver with a brace of bullets, is a work that should be well paid for.
The performance is by no means so agreeable that one should seek to do
it for not