hing."

Guy Rivers fancied himself a nobler animal than his companion, as he
felt that he needed not the mercenary motive for the performance of the
murderous action.

They were mounted, the horses being ready for them in the rear of the
building.

"Round the hollow. We'll skirt the village, and not go through it," said
Munro. "We may gain something on the route to the fork of the roads by
taking the blind track by the red hill."

"As you will. Go ahead!"

A few more words sufficed to arrange the route, and regulate their
pursuit, and a few moments sufficed to send them off in full speed over
the stony road, both with a common and desperate purpose, but each moved
by arguments and a passion of his own.

In her lonely chamber, Lucy Munro, now recovered to acutest
consciousness, heard the tread of their departing hoofs; and, clasping
her hands, she sank upon her knees, yielding up her whole soul to silent
prayer. The poor girl never slept that night.

CHAPTER XXII.

THE BLOODY DEED.

Let us leave the outlaws to their progress for a brief space, while we
gather up and pursue for awhile some other clues of our story.

We have witnessed the separation of Mark Forrester from his sweetheart,
at the place of trysting. The poor fellow had recovered some of his
confidence in himself and fortune, and was now prepared to go forth with
a new sentiment of hope within his bosom. The sting was in a degree
taken from his conscience--his elastic and sanguine temperament
contributed to this--and with renewed impulses to adventure, and with
new anticipations of the happiness that we all dream to find in life;
the erring, but really honest fellow, rode fearlessly through the dim
forests, without needing more auspicious lights than those of the
kindling moon and stars. The favor of old Allen, the continued love of
Kate, the encouragements of young Colleton, his own feeling of the
absence of any malice in his heart, even while committing his crime, and
the farther fact that he was well-mounted, and speeding from the region
where punishment threatened--all these were influences which conspired
to lessen, in his mind, the griefs of his present privation, and the
lonely emotions which naturally promised to accompany him in his
solitary progress.

His course lay for the great Southwest--the unopened forests, and mighty
waters of the Mississippi valley. Here, he was to begin a new life.
Unknown, he would shake off the fears