piano of Elizabeth, with neither rustic restraint nor obtrusive
vulgarity. A single finger touched the instrument, as if accustomed
to dwell on such places. His other arm was extended to its utmost
length, and the hand grasped the barrel of his long rifle with
something like convulsive energy. The act and the attitude were both
involuntary, and evidently proceeded from a feeling much deeper than
that of vulgar surprise. His appearance, connected as it was with the
rough exterior of his dress, rendered him entirely distinct from the
busy group that were moving across the other end of the long hall,
occupied in receiving the travellers and exchanging their welcomes;
and Elizabeth continued to gaze at him in wonder. The contraction of
the stranger’s brows in creased as his eyes moved slowly from one
object to another. For moments the expression of his countenance was
fierce, and then again it seemed to pass away in some painful emotion.
The arm that was extended bent and brought the hand nigh to his face,
when his head dropped upon it, and concealed the wonderfully speaking
lineaments.

“We forget, dear sir, the strange gentleman” (for her life Elizabeth
could not call him otherwise) “whom we have brought here for
assistance, and to whom we owe every attention.”

All eyes were instantly turned in the direction of those of the
speaker, and the youth rather proudly elevated his head again, while
he answered:

“My wound is trifling, and I believe that Judge Temple sent for a
physician the moment we arrived.”

“Certainly,” said Marmaduke: “I have not forgotten the object of thy