"I told the young lady," he exclaimed, "that, if she would listen to me a
moment longer, she would be repaid for her trouble; and here is the proof
of my words."

"Come, let us hasten towards home," cried Ellen, eagerly; and she took
Edward Walcott's arm, with a freedom that, at another time, would have
enchanted him. He at first seemed inclined to resist her wishes, but
complied, after exchanging, unperceived by Ellen, a glance with the
stranger, the meaning of which the latter appeared perfectly to
understand. Fanshawe also attended her. Their walk towards Dr. Melmoth's
dwelling was almost a silent one; and the few words that passed between
them did not relate to the adventure which occupied the thoughts of each.
On arriving at the house, Ellen's attendants took leave of her, and
retired.

Edward Walcott, eluding Fanshawe's observation with little difficulty,
hastened back to the old oak-tree. From the intelligence with which the
stranger had received his meaning glance, the young man had supposed that
he would here await his return. But the banks of the stream, upward and
downward, so far as his eye could reach, were solitary. He could see only
his own image in the water, where it swept into a silent depth; and could
hear only its ripple, where stones and sunken trees impeded its course.
The object of his search might, indeed, have found concealment among the
tufts of alders, or in the forest that was near at hand; but thither it
was in vain to pursue him. The angler had apparently set little store by
the fruits of his assumed occupation; for the last fish that he had taken
lay, yet alive, on the bank, gasping for the element to which Edward was
sufficiently compassionate to restore him. After watching him as he glided
down the stream, making feeble efforts to resist its current, the youth