"Zounds! what's that!" he cried, as the noise of a scuffle was heard behind them. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. “What are we going to do?” said Capes, with his eyes on the broad distances beyond the ribbon of the river. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one.
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