r willing to hear, and which it is not my policy to have
uttered by any lips, and far less by my own? Think--remember--lady, and
let me be silent still on that one subject. Let no feeling of pride
influence the rejection of a remembrance which perhaps carries with it
but few pleasant reflections."

Again were the maiden's eyes fixed searchingly upon the speaker, and
again, conflicting with the searching character of his own glance, were
they withdrawn, under the direction of a high sense of modest dignity.
She had made the effort at recognition--that was evident even to
him--and had made it in vain.

"Entirely forgotten--well! better that than to have been remembered as
the thing I was. Would it were possible to be equally forgotten by the
rest--but this, too, is vain and childish. She must be taught to
remember me."

Thus muttered the stranger to himself; assuming, however, an increased
decision of manner at the conclusion, he approached her, and tearing
from his cheeks the huge whiskers that had half-obscured them, he spoke
in hurried accents:--

"Look on me now, Miss Colleton--look on me now, and while you gaze upon
features once sufficiently well known to your glance, let your memory
but retrace the few years when it was your fortune, and my fate, to
spend a few months in Gwinnett county. Do you remember the time--do you
remember that bold, ambitious man, who, at that time, was the claimant
for a public honor--who was distinguished by you in a dance, at the ball
given on that occasion--who, maddened by wine, and a fierce passion
which preyed upon him then, like a consuming fire, addressed you, though
a mere child, and sought you for his bride, who--but I see you remember
all!"

"And are you then Creighton--Mr. Edward Creighton--and so changed!" And
she looked upon him with an expression of simple wonder.

"Ay, that was the name once-but I have another now. Would you know me
better--I am Guy Rivers, where the name of Creighton must not again be
spoken. It is the name of a felon--of one under doom of outlawry--whom
all men are privileged to slay. I have been hunted from society--I can
no longer herd with my fellows--I am without kin, and am almost without
kind. Yet, base and black with crime--doomed by mankind--banished all
human abodes--the slave of fierce passions--the leagued with foul
associates, I dared, in your girlhood, to love you; and, more daring
still, I dare to love you now. Fear not, lady--you are