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The Last of the Mohicans; A narrative of 1757 by James Fenimore Cooper
page 227 of 514 (44%)
in your veins; I have loved you for your own good qualities; and I have
loved you, because I thought you would contribute to the happiness of my
child. But all this love would turn to hatred, were I assured that what
I so much apprehend is true."

"God forbid that any act or thought of mine should lead to such a
change!" exclaimed the young man, whose eye never quailed under the
penetrating look it encountered. Without adverting to the impossibility
of the other's comprehending those feelings which were hid in his
own bosom, Munro suffered himself to be appeased by the unaltered
countenance he met, and with a voice sensibly softened, he continued:

"You would be my son, Duncan, and you're ignorant of the history of the
man you wish to call your father. Sit ye down, young man, and I will
open to you the wounds of a seared heart, in as few words as may be
suitable."

By this time, the message of Montcalm was as much forgotten by him who
bore it as by the man for whose ears it was intended. Each drew a chair,
and while the veteran communed a few moments with his own thoughts,
apparently in sadness, the youth suppressed his impatience in a look and
attitude of respectful attention. At length, the former spoke:

"You'll know, already, Major Heyward, that my family was both ancient
and honorable," commenced the Scotsman; "though it might not altogether
be endowed with that amount of wealth that should correspond with its
degree. I was, maybe, such an one as yourself when I plighted my faith
to Alice Graham, the only child of a neighboring laird of some estate.
But the connection was disagreeable to her father, on more accounts than
my poverty. I did, therefore, what an honest man should--restored the
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