"I am sure--I do not mistake."

"Well, I'm not; and I should like to hear what it is you know him by?"

A deeper and more malignant expression overspread the face of Rivers,
as, with a voice in which his thought vainly struggled for mastery with
a vexed spirit, he replied:--

"What have I to know him by? you ask. I know him by many things--and
when I told you I had my reason for talking with him as I did, I might
have added that he was known to me, and fixed in my lasting memory, by
wrongs and injuries before. But there is enough in this for
recollection," pointing again to his cheek--"this carries with it answer
sufficient. You may value a clear face slightly, having known none other
than a blotted one since you have known your own, but I have a different
feeling in this. He has written himself here, and the damned writing is
perpetually and legibly before my eyes. He has put a brand, a Cain-like,
accursed brand upon my face, the language of which can not be hidden
from men; and yet you ask me if I know the executioner? Can I forget
him? If you think so, Munro, you know little of Guy Rivers."

The violence of his manner as he spoke well accorded with the spirit of
what he said. The landlord, with much coolness and precision, replied:--

"I confess I do know but little of him, and have yet much to learn. If
you have so little temper in your speech, I have chosen you badly as a
confederate in employments which require so much of that quality. This
gash, which, when healed, will be scarcely perceptible, you speak of
with all the mortification of a young girl, to whom, indeed, such would