THE BLACK DOG.


While this brief scene was in progress in the chamber of Ralph, another,
not less full of interest to that person, was passing in the
neighborhood of the village-tavern; and, as this portion of our
narrative yields some light which must tend greatly to our own, and the
instruction of the reader, we propose briefly to record it. It will be
remembered, that, in the chapter preceding, we found the attention of
the youth forcibly attracted toward one Guy Rivers--an attention, the
result of various influences, which produced in the mind of the youth a
degree of antipathy toward that person for which he himself could not,
nor did we seek to account.

It appears that Ralph was not less the subject of consideration with the
individual in question. We have seen the degree and kind of espionage
which the former had felt at one time disposed to resent; and how he was
defeated in his design by the sudden withdrawal of the obnoxious
presence. On his departure with Forrester from the gallery, Rivers
reappeared--his manner that of doubt and excitement; and, after hurrying
for a while with uncertain steps up and down the apartment, he passed
hastily into the adjoining hall, where the landlord sat smoking,
drinking, and expatiating at large with his guests. Whispering something
in his ear, the latter rose, and the two proceeded into the adjoining
copse, at a point as remote as possible from hearing, when the
explanation of this mysterious caution was opened by Rivers.

"Well, Munro, we are like to have fine work with your accursed and
blundering good-nature. Why did you not refuse lodgings to this