ELLEN WALTON;

OR, THE VILLAIN AND HIS VICTIMS. 

BY ALVIN ADDISON, AUTHOR OF THE RIVAL HUNTERS, ETC. 

CINCINNATI:H. M. RULISON, QUEEN CITY PUBLISHING HOUSE, 115-1/2 MAIN STREET. PHILADELPHIA:QUAKER CITY PUBLISHING HOUSE, 32 SOUTH THIRD STREET. 1855. 

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1855, by

H. M. RULISON, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court, for the Southern District ofOhio. 

THE VILLAIN AND HIS VICTIMS. 

CHAPTER I. 

FLEMING'S HOTEL. 

In the year 1785, as, also, prior and subsequent to that time, there was ahotel situated in one of the less frequented streets of Pittsburg, then thelargest town west of the mountains, and kept by one Fleming, whence itderived the name of "Fleming's Hotel. " This house, a small one, andindifferently furnished, was a favorite resort of the Indians who visitedthe town on trading expeditions. Fleming had two daughters, who possessedconsiderable personal attractions, and that pride of a vainwoman--_beauty_. History does not, to the best of our knowledge, give usthe first names of the two girls; and we will distinguish them as Eliza andSarah. Unfortunately for these young females, they had ever been surroundedby unfavorable circumstances, and exposed to the vices of bad associations;and that nice discrimination between propriety and politeness, which is anatural characteristic of the modest woman, had become somewhatobliterated, and the hold which virtue ever has by nature in the heart ofthe gentler sex, had been somewhat loosened. In short, the young MissesFleming failed at all times to observe that degree of propriety whichshould ever characterize the pure in heart, and were, by many, accused ofimmorality. How far this accusation was true, we shall not attempt to say, but, doubtless, there were not wanting many tongues to spread slanderousreports. 

In early years of womanhood, Eliza had given her affections to one whosought her love under the guise of a "gentleman of fortune. " He proved tobe what such characters usually are--a libertine, whose only motive inseeking to win her confidence and young affections was to gratify hishellish passions in the ruin of virtue and a good name. Under the mostsolemn assurances of deep, abiding, unalterable love for her, and the mostsolemn promises of marriage at an early day, which if he failed to perform, the direst maledictions of heaven, and the most awful curses, were calleddown upon his own head, even to the eternal consuming of his soul in theflames of perdition, he succeeded in his design. Virtue was overcome, andthe jewel of purity departed from the heart of another of earth'sdaughters. Vain were the tears of the repentant girl to induce aperformance of the promises so solemnly made; false had been and still werethe vows of the profligate; but he continued to make them all the moreprofusely; and hope, at first unwavering, then fainter and fainter, filledthe heart of his victim. Once conquered, and the victory was ever aftercomparatively easy; and having taken something of a fancy to this lady, hewas for a long time attached to her, and, in his way, remained faithful. 

Such were the mutual relations sustained by these two toward each other, when, one day, the betrayer entered the presence of the betrayed, and, insome agitation, said:

"Eliza, my dear, you have always been a kind, dear girl to me, and I haveresolved to repay your constancy and devotion by making you my bride in afew days; but first I must demand of you a service, an important service. Can I depend on you?"

"You know you can; let me know how I can aid you in such a manner as willinsure me your hand, and I will serve you unto death. "

"Bravely spoken! Just what I expected of your devoted love! But the serviceI shall require will sorely try that love!"

"Then let me prove its strength. "

"Eliza, do you doubt my truth? my sincerity?"

"Have I not given you stronger proof than a thousand asseverations, or thestrongest oaths, that my confidence is unbounded? Without this trust, Ishould be wretched beyond endurance!"

"I am glad to hear you talk so. Still I fear you will not consent to serveme as I shall wish. "

"Try me and see. "

"Are you of a _jealous_ disposition, my love?"

"Jealous? What a question for _you_ to ask!"

"It may appear strange, yet I would be pleased to have you answer me truly, and without reserve. Tell me your real sentiments without reserve ordisguise. Much depends thereon. "

"Truly, I cannot say, never having been tried; but I can verily believethat intense hatred would arise in my heart toward one of my sex who wouldattempt to supplant me in your affections. "

"Suppose I should disregard their efforts, what then?"

"Nothing. If sure of your attachment, I would care for nothing beside. "

"'Tis well! But suppose that I should tell you that I once loved anotherthan you?"

"As you love me?"

"No; with a boyish affection, soon forgotten. "

"Then I would care nothing for it. "

"Not if it left an incurable wound?"

"Did it?"

"It did!"

"My God! How have I been deceived. "

"Don't be alarmed, my dear, the wound was not in the heart--it was inpride. "

"How?"

"I was not troubled at heart, but the girl I fancied gave me mortaloffense, and I would be revenged!"

"How so? What is this? Don't love, and wish revenge! Revenge for what? Andthat dark frown--what means all this?"

"Be calm; you are excited; you fear my truth; and where there is noconfidence, love soon departs. I can soon explain all. In my young days Ifell in love with a beautiful girl of my own age; but soon learned that shewas not virtuous, and with this knowledge my love changed into desire. Asthe least return for my love, to gain which she had recourse to all thewiles and blandishments of a coquette, I wished to possess her for a time;but she spurned me from her presence as she would a dog! From that hour Ihave sworn to have my revenge and gain my point. My hour has now come, andI can accomplish my oath, provided I am secure of one thing. "

"And what is that?"

"Your co-operation. "

"Me aid in such a scheme!"

"Why not?"

"_Why not?_ Shall I turn the enemy of my own sex, and aid in thedestruction of one who has never injured me?"

"She _has_ injured you. "

"In what way?"

"By destroying, in a good degree, my confidence in the sex. Had thatconfidence been unshaken, you would, long ere this time, have been my wife;but how could I trust my happiness with woman when woman had provedtreacherous? I had been once deceived, and distrust had taken the place offaith, when I met you. You know the result. Now tell me, has not this girlinjured you deeply?"

"It may be so; but why not let her go? What good can it do to pursue herwith vengeance? Perhaps she has repented. How wicked, then, to destroy herpeace of mind. "

"Dream not that such as she will ever repent. But to satisfy you on thispoint, I can say, _I know she has not changed from what she was_; and it isthis knowledge that, above all things, urges me on in my plans. "

"Well, what do you wish me to do?"

"Listen. I have just learned that this girl, in company with her family, will be in town to-day, on their way to Ohio or Kentucky, and will put upat this house. Now I wish you to so place the young lady, that I can haveaccess to her sleeping apartment; this is all. "

"I cannot do it. "

"You can; I will take number eighteen for the night; put her in seventeen, and it is all I ask. I am sure this is easily done. "

"And thus bring about my own shame and her dishonor?"

"I tell you she is already dishonored; and instead of bringing shame uponyourself, you take it away forever. "

"Do not tempt me to do wrong! Alas, I have done too much evil already! Ipray God I may be forgiven!"

"Come, now, be a good girl, and do me this _one_ favor; it is the last Ishall require of you until I give you my name. "

"I cannot. Such conduct would disgrace our house. "

"It need not be known. "

"It is hard to prevent such things being spread abroad. "

"I will take care of that point. Your house shall not be injured oneparticle by the occurrence, I give you my word for it. Now do you consent?"

"Perhaps you still love this girl, and are trying to deceive me. "

"I swear that I do not, that I love only you. "

"Why, then, seek the society of this other?"

"I have sworn it, as I have already told you; and this oath _must_ beperformed. Will you aid me or not?"

"I cannot. I pray you again, do not tempt me!"

"But you _must_ help me. I cannot do without you. "

"For God's sake say no more! Every feeling of my heart revolts at thethought! Just think, for a moment, what it is you ask of me! Think whatwould be my feelings! Love is incompatible with your request. How can I seeyou debase yourself and me by such an act?"

"I only desire you to decide between this and a worse debasement. Whichwill you choose?"

"What mean you?"

"That I will only marry you on condition you will accede to my presentproposition. "

"Have you not told me, time and again, that you looked upon me as your wifeby the highest of all laws, the laws of nature and of God? How, then, canyou talk of not making me legally yours, in the sight of men?"

"I will, I tell you, if you will do as I wish in the present instance. Come, be kind, be gentle and loving, as you ever have been, and we willsoon be completely happy by acknowledging our love before men, at thealtar. "

"This again! Oh, tempter, betray me not!"

"You have your choice. I will _never_ marry you if you refuse my presentoffer, NEVER! Whose, then, will be the shame? Which will you be, anhonorable wife, or a despised offcast? Your destiny is in your own hands, make your election. "

"Oh, God! I am in your power!"

"Then you consent?"

"What assurance have I that this promise will make me your wife? Have younot promised the same thing scores of times?"

"Require any form of obligation, and I will give it; as I mean what I say, make your own conditions. "

"Give me a written promise. "

He gave it as she dictated it:

"I hereby promise to marry Eliza Fleming within one month from this 12thday of April, 1786. This promise I most solemnly give, calling on heaven towitness it, and if I fail in its performance, may the curses of God restupon my soul in this world and in the world to come. 

"LOUIS DURANT. "

"That will do, " she said. 

"And I may depend on you?"

"Yes; I am no longer free. But mind, all must be done quietly and kept aprofound secret. "

"Leave that to me; I will be responsible for the result. "

Thus was a net woven for an unsuspecting victim. Who was she, and what thecause for this unrelenting and revengeful feeling on the part of Durant?Time must show. 

CHAPTER II. 

A VILLAIN UNMASKED. 

In a beautiful district of the "Old Dominion, " bordering on theRappahannock, there lived, just previous to the time of the opening of ourstory, a planter, who had once been wealthy, but whose princely fortune hadbecome much reduced by indiscriminate kindness. Possessed of a noble heart, a generous disposition, and the finest sympathies, he could never find itin his heart to say "no" to an application for assistance. Thousands hadthus gone to pay debts of security; and, at last, he resolved to move tothe West, as a means of retrieving his affairs, as well as to cut loosefrom the associations which were rapidly diminishing the remains of hiswealth. 

This planter, whom we shall call General Walton, (the last name assumed, the title one given him by common consent, ) had one son, and an onlydaughter, the former twenty-one, the latter eighteen, at the time we wishto introduce them to the reader's notice. Both were worthy, the one as aman, the other as a woman. He was noble, intellectual, manly; she wasbeautiful, accomplished, intelligent; both possessed those higher andnobler qualities of mind and heart which dignify and ally it to divinity. 

Ellen Walton, an heiress, jointly with her brother, in prospective, andreputed the wealthiest fair one in all the district, (the world don'talways know the true situation of a man's affairs, ) was not left to pineaway in solitude with the dismal prospect in view of becoming that dreadedpersonage--_an old maid_. No, she was _beset_ with admirers; some loving_her_, some her _wealth_, and some _both_. To all but one she turned a deafear; that one, though the least presuming of the many, and too diffident tourge his claim until impelled by the irresistable violence of his love, possessed, unknown to himself, a magnetic power over the heart of the fairbeing. Many were the doubts and fears of both--natural accompaniments oftrue, sincere, devoted, but unacknowledged, love--but all were dispelledby the mutual exchange of thoughts, and the mutual plighting of faith. Vowsonce made by the pure in heart, are seldom, if ever, broken, and then bysome higher duty or demand. 

For a time the youthful lovers were happy--happy in themselves, and thejoys of the new existence opened up to them by the magic wand of LOVE. Butlove has its trials, as all can testify who have tasted its potency in theheart; and so these two learned. Their engagement was a family secret, notyet to be developed. Hence, many of her admirers still offered theirattentions, in the vain hope of ultimate success. Particularly was this thecase with those who had an eye to the fortune rather than the heiress, taking the latter as the only means of obtaining the former; and firstamong this number was Louis Durant, a man of corrupt principles, and deeplydepraved feelings. A sprig of a noble family of small pretensions, whosepride far exceeded their means, he was desirous of obtaining wealth; andbeing too indolent to enter a profession, too poor to become a merchant, and too proud to work, as a last resort, he wished to _marry_ a fortune. Like most of his class, he was unscrupulous as to _means_ so the _end_ wasattained. It was, therefore, an easy matter to conform, in outwardappearance, to the society he was in. This he never failed to do. When withthe Waltons, he was a pattern of generosity, and a pitying angel. When withthe gambler, or the _roue_, he was equally at home--a debauchee, or ahandler of cards. 

With the intuitive perception of woman, Ellen saw through his character atonce; and, though she treated him with civility, never gave him anyencouragement. Blinded by her fortune, and construing her reserve into thebashfulness of a first passion, being too vain to acknowledge the inabilityof his powers of fascination to carry all before them, he gave himself upto hope, and already counted on the half of the Walton estate as his own, and spent many a shilling of his small funds on the strength of theanticipation. 

When he saw that the bottom of his purse would soon be reached, he soughtan opportunity, declared himself in love, and asked the hand of MissWalton. The General to whom he had always appeared a "fine fellow, " wouldleave his daughter to decide the matter. Thus referred, he lost no time inmaking Ellen the recipient of his "tale of love. " All his theatrical powerswere called in action; his eloquence commanded; but the impressions madewere far different from those intended. Though the outward semblance wascomplete, Ellen saw that the passion was feigned, and a still deeperdislike took possession of her feelings. But with gentle delicacy, she toldhim his passion was not returned. 

"Then, " said he, "let me win your love. I am sure your heart will yieldwhen you are convinced of the depth of the devotedness of my affection. "

"Do not flatter yourself with a vain hope. I feel that I shall never beable to love you; and it is in kindness that I tell you so at once. "

"Ah, adorable, angelic being! One so kind, so considerate, so good, is toopure, too near akin to heaven, for man to possess. I only ask to be yourfriend. "

"As such, you shall ever be welcome. "

"Thanks! thanks! May I but prove worthy of your friendship!"

Thus terminated his first attempt to win Ellen. His fall from the lover toa friend was the first step in a plot already matured. As a friend, hecould ever have access to the heiress, and be received more familiarly thanin any other capacity, save as an acknowledged lover. This familiaritywould give him the opportunity of ingratiating himself into her affections, of which, finally, he felt certain. 

He became a constant and frequent visitor at the mansion of the Waltons, and was ever received with cordiality. He let no opportunity passunimproved to carry out his design. Goodness, benevolence, charity, werecounterfeited most adroitly, until even Ellen began to think she had donehim injustice by her suspicions. This is a favorable moment for a lover. Prove that you have been dealt with unjustly, and a woman's heart is openedby sympathy to let you in. It was well for Ellen that her heart was alreadyoccupied, or this might possibly have been her fate. As it was, shebecame, insensibly and unintentionally, kind to Durant. He did not fail tonotice the change, and his heart exulted in the prospect of completesuccess. 

When he thought the proper time had arrived, he prepared the way, and againdeclared himself a lover, with more eloquence than before. Again his suitwas gently declined; but this time he persevered until his importunitiesbecame unbearable, and with them, all Ellen's old prejudices returned, strengthened ten-fold. If he could and would force himself for weeks andmonths upon an unwilling victim of his importunities, and attempt by suchmeans to force her to accept his hand, he was depraved enough for any otherwickedness. So she plainly told him she could not and would not submitlonger to his unreasonable conduct; that he must consider himself asfinally, fully and unrecallably dismissed. 

"And give up all hope--the hope that has sustained and given me life solong? Oh, think, Ellen, think of my misery, of the untold wretchedness intowhich you plunge me, and let your heart, your kind, generous heart, relent!"

"Mr. Durant, I have told you often and often that it was impossible for meto love you, and that it was kindness to tell you so. If you havedisregarded my oft repeated declaration, the truth of which you must longere this have been convinced, the fault is yours, not mine. "

"I know you have so spoken often, but still I have dared to hope. I lovedtoo fervently for the passion ever to die before you denied me hope. Thinkof all these things, and then recall your words. "

"You have repeated them so frequently, that I could not well avoid thinkingof them whether I chose to or not. Let me now say, once for all, thatimportunities are utterly useless, and can prove of no avail. "

"Then I am to understand you as casting me off from your presence; and thisbeing the _end_ of your kindness, may I ask what was the _object_ of thatkindness?"

"I always endeavor to do unto others as I would have them do to me. If youthink such a course wrong, I cannot help it. "

"Then you would wish some person, who had the power, to show you allmanner of good will, until your affections were won, and so firmly fixed asto be unalterable, and then cast you off?"

"No, I should be far from desiring such conduct on the part of any one. "

"And yet that is your way of 'doing as you would be done by!'"

"I am not aware of ever having done so; if I have been the unwittinginstrument of such acts, I am truly sorry for it. "

"Then let your sorrow work repentance. "

"Tell me how, and I will try to do so. "

"You cannot be ignorant of my meaning. "

"I am totally at a loss to know how your remarks can apply to me, in anyway. "

"Then I will speak plainly. Your actions for the last few months have beensuch as to bid me hope for a return of my love, and allured by that hope, founded on those actions, I have placed my affections so strongly, that Ifear it will be death to tear them away. As you have caused me to love, isit demanding more than justice that I should ask you to at least _try_ tolove me in return?"

"Mr. Durant, you know that your accusations are untrue. Did you not justtell me that you loved before you ever spoke to me on the subject? and haveyou not repeatedly, aye, a hundred times, told me I was cold toward you, ever evincing a want of cordiality? How, then, can you have the face to aska return of love on this score? Since you have been at such pains to makeout so contradictory a case, I will say that you but lessen yourself in myesteem by the attempt!"

"I see, alas, you are a heartless coquette!"

"Because I will not place the half of my father's wealth in yourpossession. I have read your motive from the beginning, sir, and have onlyrefrained from telling you my mind, because I make it a rule to have thegood will of a dog, in preference to his ill will, when I can. But as yourconduct to-day has removed the last thin screen from your real character, and revealed your naked depravity of heart, I care not even for yourfriendship. You know, you _feel_, that you are a degraded wretch, and thatyou are unworthy of the society of the virtuous. "

"Madam, those words just spoken have sealed your fate! Dog as I am, I havethe power to work your ruin, and _I will do it_! I go from your presence abitter and unrelenting foe! The love you have rejected has turned intobitterness, and the dregs of that bitterness you shall drink till your soulsickens unto death! I will never lose sight of you! Go where you may, Iwill follow you! Hide in what corner of the world you may, I will find you!When you meet me, remember I am an implacable enemy, seeking revenge!"

"Go, vile miscreant, from my presence! Think not to intimidate me. Betteran 'open enemy than a secret foe. ' I am glad you have unmasked yourself sofully. Now I know that I have escaped the worst fate on earth. "

"Not the worst! To be the wife of even a villain is better than to be hisvictim!"

"Leave my presence, sir, or I will call a slave to put you out! Infamouswretch! The curse of God be upon you!"

He went, quailing under the flash of her indignant eye, which made hisguilty soul cower in abasement. 

When he was fairly gone, her high strung energies relaxed, and the reactionprostrated her strength. She sunk upon a lounge, and, giving way to herfeelings, exclaimed:

"That man may yet work the ruin of my happiness! Oh, God, pity me, and letnot the wicked triumph! In Thee I put my trust. Let thy watchful eye beover me, and thy power protect me. Oh, let me not fall into the hands of myenemy; but preserve me by thy right hand, and keep me lifted up!"

Prayer gave her strength, and renewed her courage. Relying, with firmfaith, on the goodness and watchful care of her Father in heaven, shebecame cheerful and composed. 

She very seldom saw or heard anything of Durant, but when she did, italways awakened fear. For a year she heard nothing of him, and, at last, the old dread had passed from her heart, when her father prepared to go tothe West. 

As for Durant, he went from her presence muttering curses and threateningvengeance, among which was distinguished by a slave, grated out between hisclenched teeth, "I'll make her repent this day's work in 'sack-cloth andashes!' aye, if all h--ll oppose!"

CHAPTER III. 

THE VILLAIN AND HIS VICTIM. 

The reader has, doubtless, arrived at the conclusion that Durant wasplanning the destruction of Ellen Walton when he so earnestly desired theassistance of Miss Fleming; and it will now be perceived how false were hisstatements in relation to the _character_ of the expected guest. Thoughunseen himself, he had taken every precaution to make certain of the partyat the Fleming Hotel; and just at the close of day he had the satisfactionof seeing his efforts crowned with success. General Walton, influenced bythe tales his daughter's foe had whispered to him in confidence, passed bythe more elegant houses, which, but for defaming reports, he would havepreferred making his abode during his short stay in the place, and tooklodgings at the "Fleming. "

Eliza Fleming made the acquaintance of her young female guest, and everyfresh insight into Miss Walton's character made her regret the hardnecessity she was under of doing her an injury. She had a hard struggle inher mind, but at length her determination was fixed. To procure the ruin ofthe innocent guest, (for she had thoroughly satisfied herself that MissWalton _was_ innocent and virtuous, ) whom every obligation of hospitalityrequired her to protect, was indeed damnable; but to forfeit the hand ofDurant under the circumstances was impossible, and not to be thought of. Poor Ellen! Heaven shield thee!

Durant was not seen by any of the Waltons, as it was his object to keepthem in entire ignorance of his proximity until such time as he chose toreveal himself. Miss Fleming knew where to find him; and, according toagreement, met him during the evening, to arrange some matters connectedwith the plot. 

"Louis, you have required too much at my hands in this affair. I fear Ishall not be able to comply with the terms of agreement. "

"Then return my written promise of marriage, and live to be despised and aby-word among men! I thought the matter was definitely settled, and thatyou had resolved to save your own honor and name at every hazard. "

"But is this my only hope?"

"Yes, as true as there is a God in heaven, it is. I will forsake youforever unless you comply with my wishes in this affair. "

"Then I must name some conditions, to which I shall demand the strictestcompliance on your part. "

"Name them. "

"In the first place, then, to avoid the possibility of noise or mishap, Iwill give the lady a potion, which will stupefy her faculties, and cause adeep sleep to lock up all her senses for the space of three or four hours. I will so arrange it, that these hours shall be from eleven to threeo'clock, and what is done must be accomplished between those periods oftime. You shall, therefore, not enter number seventeen until after eleveno'clock, and you must positively leave it before three; and you shall notlet your victim know what transpires at this house until after the Waltonshave left the city. Do you consent to these terms?"

"I suppose I must. "

"Then the matter is settled. Remember the hours; I shall know if myinjunctions are disregarded, and you will fare the worse for it. "

"Fear not. Come to reflect, I like your plan better than my own, as thereis less danger in it every way. "

"Enough. Good night. "

"Hold a moment. Is there any fastening on the door between the rooms, onthe side in number seventeen?"

"There is; but I will take care of that; and you know no one, unless wellacquainted with the spot, could tell there was a door there. "

"True, true--I had forgotten that fact. "

"Oh, I forgot one prohibition. You must in no case let a ray of light intoseventeen. It might render all our precautions abortive, and defeat theirobject. "

"Very well. I will be careful. "

"Do so, and all will be well. Of course, no noise, even as loud as awhisper, must be heard in the lady's room. "

"I will be discreet; trust me for that. I am glad you have come to therescue; I find there is nothing like a woman's wit. "

"Take care, then, that you are never _outwitted_ by them!"

"Not much fear of that while I have such an ingenious ally!"

"Take good care to keep her an ally; as an enemy, she might be equallyingenious. "

And so they parted. As she left the room, she mentally exclaimed:

"'Come to the rescue!' Yes, I am truly glad I have!"

The guests retired to their beds, and all was still as the solemn silenceof midnight. The old clock in the corner tolled the hour of eleven, andhalf an hour afterward, a stealthy tread might have been heard along thepartition dividing the two rooms already named. Soon a door slowly openedon its rusty hinges, and in the rayless darkness Durant entered the numbercontaining his victim. He reached the couch, and paused to assure himselfthat all was as he desired. His ear was saluted with a heavy breathing, asof one in deep sleep. 

"All right!" he muttered within himself. "My hour has come. The vengeanceof the '_dog_' shall be complete! Oh, but how I will glory in _my_ triumph, and the proud one's disgrace! I'll make her _feel_ what it is to insult anobleman by blood! Gods, how the memory burns my brain of that indignity!An unknown girl to scorn and cast contumely upon one of England's line oflords! This night be the stain wiped out!"

Lost! lost! _lost_! demon! from thy presence we turn away! Villain andvictim, there is a God above!

 * * * * *

The morning dawned, and the sun rose as cloudless as though no deeds ofcrime, needing the darkness to cover them, had been perpetrated on theearth. The Waltons left with the company they expected to join at Pittsburgon the succeeding day, not knowing that Durant had slept under the sameroof with them. No, not so fast. One of their number _did_ know thefact--Ellen. Was it that knowledge that caused the paleness on her cheek, that aroused the anxious solicitude of her tender and watchful parents?

"Are you sick, my daughter?" was the mother's affectionate inquiry. But shewas cheered by the assurance that there was no serious cause of alarm; andthat Ellen was only a little unwell. Without any mishap, they reached theirnew home in Kentucky. 

Two weeks had passed, and Eliza Fleming was still unmarried. During thattime, she had seen Durant but twice, and he appeared desirous of avoiding aprivate interview. She was not slow to perceive this, and it filled hermind with misgivings of his truth, or the sincerity of his protestations. She demanded an interview; the demand was acceded to; and she said:

"Why do you not make arrangements for our approaching marriage? It issurely time you were about it. "

"Oh, no hurry yet, " he replied. "There is plenty of time. "

"Plenty of time! Yes, if all that need be done, is to call the minister, and have the ceremony performed! But it strikes me this is _not_ all. However, what day have you fixed upon as your choice for the weddingoccasion?"

"I can't say as I have thought upon any day in particular; in fact, thesubject had so far escaped my mind, that I had nearly forgotten itentirely. "

"A devoted lover, truly! What am I to think of such unmerited coldness?"and she burst into tears. 

"Come, Eliza, let us understand each other, and be friends. "

"Friends! Is that all?"

"Lovers, then. "

"Husband and wife, you mean. "

"Lovers only; as we have been. "

"Am I to understand you as saying you will not fulfill your written promiseof making me your lawful wife?"

"You might be farther from the truth. "

"Is this the reward of my devotion? the fruits of my sacrifice? Oh, God, who shall measure the depths of wickedness of a depraved heart? Sir, Ishall enforce my rights. "

"You dare not do it. "

"Why not?"

"The very attempt will ruin yourself, and your father's business bybringing disgrace upon his house. "

"I see it, sir; but what if I still proceed?"

"You cannot. "

"I can. "

"On what plan?"

"On your own written promise. "

"You have no such promise. "

"Do you deny giving it?"

"I do. "

"Then your own hand-writing will condemn you. "

"Be certain of that before you proceed. "

"You know I _have_ such a document. "

"I know you have _not_. "

"Then I will prove it. "

And she went in search of the paper, where she had carefully placed itaway. But no paper was to be found! What could have become of it? Shereturned. 

"Well, let me see your 'document, ' as you term it, " he said, in a tauntingmanner. 

"It has been misplaced by some means, but I will find it in time to answermy purpose. "

"Perhaps. "

"Durant, you _know_ I have such a paper, and what is the use of denyingit?"

"Again, I repeat, I know no such thing. " Then after a pause, he continued:"We might as well understand each other at once. "

He produced a paper, and went on: "Here, I suppose, is the article youspeak of. I see it is in my hand-writing, and lest by any chance it shouldagain fall into your hands, I will destroy it. "

And holding it in the candle, it was soon reduced to ashes. The outwittedgirl sat dumb with astonishment, surprise and dismay, and, for severalseconds, was speechless. When utterance came, she inquired:

"How, in the name of reason, did you get that paper in your possession?"

"I will be frank: I watched you putting it away, and the next day I wentand took it. "

"And this is my reward for the signal service you demanded as the price ofthat written promise?"

"My continued love will be your reward. "

"_Your_ love! Think you, vile miscreant, I would have the base semblance ofaffection from such a polluted thing as you? No, sir! Now that I see yourdepravity, worlds would not tempt me to wed you, degraded as I am! How Ihave remained blinded so long is a mystery I cannot solve, in theoverwhelming light of this hour. Thank God, I am even with you!--Yes, thankHim from the bottom of my heart! You have deceived me, but in this instanceI am not behind you. Ellen Walton left this house as pure as she enteredit! Think you I had no object in all my restrictions of time, of secrecyand darkness? I had. One hour in the society of Miss Walton, convinced meof her unsullied purity, and another of your baseness. I resolved to saveher at all hazards; and I did. My only regret _now_ is, that I made myselfthe victim instead of her!"

"H--ll and furies!"

"Even, am I not?"

"May the devil take you!"

"Better take care of the old fellow yourself; and of woman's wit, too!"

"I'll have my revenge yet. I'll swear that I did stay the night with Ellen, despite your treachery. "

"It will do you no good. My sister gave the young lady an attestedcertificate, stating that she passed the whole time with her, the twotogether, that the door to their room was locked, and that they wereundisturbed during the night. --Nothing like a 'woman's wit!'"

[Illustration: "And drawing a pistol, which some freak had caused her toconceal in her dress, she made it ready, and, with her finger on thetrigger, aimed it at his heart. "--See page 29. ]

"I curse you! Vile, treacherous--"

"Spare your epithets, inhuman monster! or, by the heavens above us, youleave not this spot alive!"

And drawing a pistol, which some freak had caused her to conceal in herdress, she made it ready, and, with her finger on the trigger, aimed it athis heart. Like all villains of his caste, he was a coward, and trembledwith quaking fear before the flashing eye and resolute look of the excitedgirl. 

"Now, vile, degraded, polluted _thing_! you go from my presence never toreturn. Hold! not just yet, I have a parting word to say before you leave. I confess, with self-abasement, that I once loved you, and with deephumiliation, amounting to agony, that that love was the cause of my ruin. The vail is now torn from my eyes, and I behold you as you are, acorrupted, debased, unfeeling demon, in the human form; and I would noteven touch you with my finger's end, so deep is my detestation andabhorrence of your depravity! Aye, sir, even for _me_ your very touch isdefiling! But if ever you whisper a word concerning the relation you oncesustained toward _me_, be it but so loud as your breath, I will as surelydestroy you as I now stand before you! Remember and beware! for I call God, and angels, and earth to witness this my vow! One so lost as _you_, shallnot couple _my_ name with his!"

She paused a moment, as if to collect her energies for a last effort, andthen continued:

"Into the darkness of this moonless, starless, sky-beclouded night, youshall soon be driven. May it faintly prefigure the unending blackness ofthat eternal night you have chosen as your future portion. As you havewillfully, voluntarily, and most wickedly called it down upon your ownhead, may the 'curse of God rest upon you in this world and the world tocome!' May evils betide you in this life, every cherished hope be blasted;every plot of villainy thwarted, and you become a reproach among men, anoutcast and a vagabond on the face of the earth! And when, at last, yoursinful race is run, and your guilty soul has been ushered into that dreadedeternity you have plucked upon it, may your polluted carcass become theprey of the carrion-crow and the buzzard, and the wild beasts of the desertwilderness howl a requiem over your bones! Go now, and meet your doom! Gowith the curse of wretched innocence ever abiding upon you! Go with thecanker-worm of festering corruption ever hanging, like an incubus, uponyour prostituted heart, and may its fangs, charged with burning poison, pierce the very vitals of existence, till life itself shall become a burdenand a curse! Go!"

And he went, with the awful curse ever burning as a flaming fire on thetablet of his memory. 

 * * * * *

The reader must bear with us for being compelled to introduce in our pagessome exceptional characters. Had we consulted our own taste, or painted thecharacters ourself, it would not have been so. In this particular, we hadno choice, as the actors were furnished to our hand in the light we haverepresented them, as we shall presently show by authenticated history. Forthe present, however, we pass to other scenes. --AUTHOR. 

CHAPTER IV. 

MORE VILLAINY. 

From the presence of Miss Fleming, Durant went to an obscure old cabin nearthe river, where he met an accomplice in villainy, a tool of his, by thename of Ramsey, whom he often employed to do hazardous and dirty work, hehimself was too cowardly or too _aristocratic_ to perform. The object ofthe present interview was to learn on what boat the Waltons had takenpassage. He was scheming again. 

"Ramsey, " said he, "what boats have left in the last two weeks to go downthe river?"

"Only three, sir. "

"Three! Did you see them all?"

"I did. "

"Did you know any of the passengers?"

"I did. Colonel Thomas Marshall commanded one of the boats, with whom therewere a number of Virginians, several of them personally known to me. "

"Was there a family by the name of Walton among them?"

"Walton--Walton? I don't know them. "

"A father, mother and daughter; the girl eighteen, and uncommonly goodlooking--present a much richer appearance than is usual with emigrants. "

"I remember them; they went in another boat. "

"Do you think they have reached Maysville yet?"

"If unusually lucky, they have; but most probably not. "

"Then there is a possibility of their being overtaken, you think?"

"There _may_ be; particularly if any bad luck has attended them. "

"Quick, then, quick! away!--Have the boat decoyed to the shore, andcaptured by the Indians! You understand, _captured_: the girl must on noaccount be killed. "

"You don't mean that I shall start out to-night in this storm anddarkness?"

"Yes, and without a moment's delay. Set the red dogs on the scent--capturethe girl, and you shall be rewarded on your own terms. Go, or it will betoo late!"

With some hesitation Ramsey obeyed, and when once in for the business, pushed it forward with all the energy he could master. This fellow was onfriendly terms with the Indians, a band of whom--kind ofrenegades--whenever he could come across them, would follow his orders, ordo his bidding. With a dispatch that would have done credit to the swiftestcourier in the days of chivalry, he pushed forward through the wildernessto the usual place of rendezvous of this band, hoping to find and enlistthem in the enterprise on hand; but they were absent on some expedition oftheir own. Not to be discouraged by one disappointment, Ramsey paused onlylong enough to determine that his expected coadjutors were not to be foundin or about their usual lurking place, then continued his course down theOhio with unabated ardor, and on the second day came in sight of a boatjust at dusk of the evening. A momentary scrutiny convinced him that it wasthe one he was in pursuit of, and he concluded it must have been delayed bysome misfortune, as he did not expect to come up to it so soon, if at all. However this might be, one thing was certain, the boat was there, and morestill, the crew were careless, a certain sign that they felt secure andfree from any dread of danger. So much the better for his purpose, thoughtthe villain. 

Driving on through the forest, at a speed far exceeding the slow motions ofthe boat, he resolved to collect a body of savages, and intercept theprize. Fortune seemed to favor him; for on the next day he fell in with alarge force of warriors, who were "on the war-path, " and ready for any workthat gave promise of blood, booty, or scalps. They were easily induced tofurther the designs of Ramsey, of whose character they were well aware; andplacing themselves under his guidance, he soon posted them along the banksof the river to watch for the coming boat. At dark it was descried, butbeing too far out to admit of being attacked, the enemy silently withdrew, and hastening forward, took a second position below the first. This wasdone several times, and, at last, Ramsey had the satisfaction of seeing theboat near the Ohio shore. When within fifty yards of the bank, the Indians, to the number of several hundred, suddenly came down to the edge of thewater, and opened a heavy fire upon the crew. 

The boat was commanded by Captain James Ward--was a crazy old thing, withonly a single pine board for a bulwark. The captain was at one oar, and hisnephew, a young man, at the other. Knowing that all depended on reachingthe middle of the stream, the captain used his best exertions to force thevessel out; but his nephew let go his oar, and took up his gun to fire. Ashe did so, he was pierced through with a ball, and fell, mortally wounded. His oar dropped into the river; and the exertions of the captain onlytended to force the boat nearer the shore. Seeing this, the savages gave ayell of triumph, and prepared to take possession of the prize. Ward, however, seized hold of a board, and with it took the place of his nephew, giving his own oar to one of the men, and made renewed exertions to gainthe current, the enemy, meanwhile, pouring upon the crew an incessantvolley of balls, thick as the falling hail of the storm, which soon riddledeverything above the plank breastwork, and killed or wounded all the horseson board--seven in number. 

During this time most of the crew were too badly frightened to do or beconscious of anything, excepting danger. One large, fat old Dutchman, inparticular, was so taken aback, he threw himself down flat, with his faceto the deck, hoping thus to escape with his life. Unfortunately for hispeace of mind, however, his posterior protuberance was of such enormouslyaldermanic dimensions, that it projected above the defenses, and became afine and laughable target for the savage marksmen, who aimed the greatmajority of their shots thereat. As the bullets tore through the oldfellow's unmentionables, and raking his hide, made it smart, he would shifthis position, and endeavor to shield himself all over; but it was of nouse. In spite of all the efforts he could make, the young mountain _would_remain in view in its exposed situation, to the great annoyance of itsowner, and the equally great merriment of the enemy. In this sadpredicament the phlegmatic hero of the flesh mountain lay, piteouslybemoaning his fate, and cursing his foes. 

As the balls would rake the subnascent appendage, making it twinge with thesharp sting, he would cry out:

"Oh! oh, Lort! haf' mercy on _me_ and _mine_!"

But his cries availed nothing; and so losing all patience, he raised up hishead, and, looking at the enemy, called to them:

"Oh, now, t'ere! quit t'at tam nonsense, will you?"

The boat was, finally, saved, with all on board, except the young man andthe horses. (For further particulars of this affair, see "WesternAdventure, " page 275-6. )

Ramsey discovered at the commencement of the fray that this was not theboat he was in quest of, and so, leaving the Indians to accomplish itscapture as they pleased, he hastened onward in the hope of still overtakingthe right vessel. In this he failed; already had it reached itsdestination, and the Waltons were in their new home. He returned, andreported his ill success to Durant, who was greatly vexed at the issue ofhis undertaking, but resolved to renew his efforts to obtain possession ofEllen, or in some way work her ruin. 

CHAPTER V. 

STILL AT WORK. 

An evil heart, bent on mischief, is never contented in idleness, but, likethe volcanic fires, its passions and thirst for revenge, when not in openeruption, are actively at work in secret and darkness, preparing for newoutbursts, bearing death along their path, and leaving devastation, blightand ruin in their wake. This was much the case with Louis Durant, after thefailure of his attempt on the boat. He was resolved to accomplish thevillainy on which he had set his heart, and to this end determined to leaveno means untried, be they ever so base, which lay within his reach. 

To proceed openly, however, was not exactly practicable, as by so doing toomany eyes would be upon him; and he was too cowardly to face an open foe onfair ground. So he went to work in secret. 

After mature deliberation, and the revolving and the re-revolving of thematter in his mind, he concluded to join the Indians, and through their aidaccomplish the consummation of his designs. In carrying out this plan, hewas very materially aided by his old accomplice in crime, Ramsey, whosefamiliarity with the red men gave him at once the facilities forintroducing his friend to their notice, which he did with a flourish andeulogium. Things went on smoothly enough while Durant was learning thelanguage, customs, manners and habits of his new allies. He had as much ashe could do to convince them of his bravery and undaunted courage, whichqualities, believing he was deficient in them, they as often as possibleput to the test. In many of these adventures he barely came off with creditwhole, a thing he found absolutely necessary to maintain any kind of creditwith this singular people, and, for this purpose, he called into actionevery particle of courage from every crack and crevice of his system, andbrought the whole to bear upon one point, the wavering of his own heart, and, with it, the staying of his almost quaking limbs, andready-to-run-away feet. He had just "_quantum sufficit_" for this purpose, and _none to spare_. 

These achievements occupied about two years in their accomplishment, at theend of which period, Durant, having established himself pretty fairly inthe good graces of his red brethren, felt as though the time had arrivedfor him to put in execution his long intended project; for, be it known, his desire for vengeance had neither slumbered nor died during the twoyears, but was the grand moving impulse to every important act. Theseyears, so full of restrained wrath on his part, were years of peace to hisintended victim. Ellen Walton, save the fear of Indians, and the usualtrials incident to pioneer life, had spent her time in hopeful quiet, fullof love's anticipated bliss in the bright _future_. 

Almost had she forgotten Durant and his threats. Pity she should ever beawakened from her blissful dreams to dread reality. 

Very early in the spring of 1787, and not quite two years since herfather's settlement in the country, on a very pleasant day, she ventured towalk out a short distance into the forest, which adjoined their dwelling. Becoming interested in her own musings, she sat down on the trunk of afallen tree, to give free vent and wide range to her thoughts. The readercan, doubtless, imagine as well as we, the rainbow hues of her strayingfancy, as it reveled in the rosy bowers of love. 

"Miss Walton, I believe I have the honor of addressing. "

[Illustration: "Looking up, she saw a tall, dark man standing before her, his eye bent upon hers with a look that sent the blood to her heart. "--Seepage 36. ]

At the sound of her name, Ellen sprung to her feet, with a suppressedscream of fright on her lips. Looking up, she saw a tall, dark man standingbefore her, his eye bent upon hers with a look that sent the blood to herheart, she hardly knew why; for certainly the individual before her was astranger, or one with whom she had had so slight an acquaintance, as toremember nothing concerning him. While her mind was running over all thepassing acquaintances she had ever made, and endeavoring among them to putthe personage before her, he continued to scan her countenance with asteady gaze, as if to read her thoughts, which divining, he continued:

"I perceive you do not remember me, though we have met before. My memoryis not so treacherous; and, beside, your looks made a lasting impression onmy mind, an impression that time can never efface or obliterate; and tothis impression you are indebted for my present visit--an unceremoniousone, I must confess. "

At this point of his discourse Ellen made a movement as if to retrace hersteps homeward, seeing which, he went on:

"Do not be impatient, fair maiden, or in haste to go, for I have that totell thee which is of the utmost importance both to thy present and futurewelfare. "

This adoption of the familiar and solemn style of address, had the effectrather to increase than diminish the tremors about the girl's heart; yetshe silently awaited his words:

"I am come to warn thee that great, very great and imminent danger ishanging, impended but by a thread, over thy head. "

This blunt and unexpected announcement caused Ellen to start with ashudder, and sent the blood still more forcibly upon her heart, whichlabored, for a moment, under the load, and then beat so loud she was afraidthe stranger would hear it. Noticing the effect of his words, he continued:

"Thou hast an enemy, a bitter enemy, who has sworn to do thee an evil, andit is in his heart to keep the oath. I see by the pallor of thy countenancethou hast not forgotten him. "

And true it was that the mention of "an enemy" called up her old foe to themost vivid recollection of the now thoroughly alarmed Ellen. With theutmost exertion of her strength and will, she could barely suppress theoutward manifestations of her terror. 

"Well, this enemy, whom you had well-nigh forgotten, has never, for asingle day, had thee out of his mind. Ever since his threat, he has beenlaying deep schemes to ruin thee, and once very nearly succeeded. For twoyears he has been at work in a new way; his plans are about matured, and_you will soon be in his power!_"

This last clause was spoken slowly, and emphasized on every word. All thetime he was speaking, Ellen's feelings became more and more intenselyexcited, and, at the close, had reached the limit of control. For a momentshe was overcome, and leaned against a tree for support; but seeing thestranger make a motion as though to assist her, she rallied again, and, becoming more composed, demanded:

"How know you these things of which you speak?"

"It matters but little to thee, to know more than the facts in the case;these I tell thee, but no more. "

"Then you have come as a kind friend to warn me of my danger?"

"Aye, and more. "

"Thanks! thanks! and pardon me if, at the first, I looked with suspicion ona friend. The circumstances of our meeting is my apology for the ungenerousthought. "

"Thou hadst cause to suspect, if not to fear me, and for thy thought I haveno need to pardon thee. But my mission is not yet completed. "

"Then let us go to the house of my father, which is but a short way off, and there hear what further is to be said. "

"No, I have but little time, and this place will answer my purpose quite aswell as your father's house, with the situation of which I am wellacquainted. "

"Indeed! Then you are not a stranger in these parts?"

"Not entirely so; but as my business was with you, more particularly, itwas natural that I should familiarize myself with your place of abode, that, if need be, I might render myself efficient in a case of emergency, which may arrive but too soon. "

This allusion to danger re-awakened Ellen's apprehensions, which noticing, he continued:

"I have told you of overhanging peril; yet I have told you but half. Youare unable to escape from the net that is woven around you--you have nomeans in your power to free yourself from the unseen toils that have beensecretly laid to ensnare you. Every step you take is one of danger, andevery effort you make to flee from that danger, may but drive you nearer todestruction. Such is the nature of your enemy's operations, that while theyare secret, they are sure; and so thoroughly has every preparation beenmade, and so exact has every minute particular been examined and attendedto, there is no possibility of his scheme failing, and equally nopossibility for you to escape. "

"Your words are words of doom. How am I to interpret your enigmaticalconduct? But now I thought you a friend, come to give me timely warning toguard against threatened danger, when, all at once, you declare mysituation a hopeless one! If you _are_ my friend, why not warn me sooner, and in time?"

This was said in a firm manner, and gave the stranger to understand he hadno common, timid nature to deal with. The truth was, the thought hadflashed across Ellen's mind that this man was some way connected withDurant, perhaps employed by him, and she began to conclude it might be atrick to frighten her, after all. If so, or if not, she determined to meetboldly what he had to say. The man perceived the change, and replied:

"My seemingly enigmatical conduct is easily explained. It is true I have along time been known to the fact that most determined designs of mischiefwere entertained against you, and that your enemy was ceaselessly at workto perfect his plans; but just as I was preparing to come to inform you ofthis state of affairs, I was so unfortunate as to be desperately wounded inbattle with the Indians. I have but just recovered; the fresh scar you cansee on my temple. "

And brushing away the hair, he exposed a hardly healed, terrible gash. Thisappeared to satisfy his listener. 

"I have, therefore, done the best I could, and you must charge the rest tofate--a fate whose inexorable decree I almost rebeled against bowing to. But I am here, my warning is given, and I can only regret that it comes solate. "

These words and the exhibition of the scar restored Ellen's confidence inthe stranger, and, with it, her fears returned. He perceived this, andproceeded:

"Though your case is a desperate one, there is still some hope; there is a_possibility_ of your deliverance from impending peril. "

"Then let me know how I am to act. "

"I fear to do so. "

"Why fear?"

"It may prove a desperate alternative. "

"Nothing can be so dreadful as falling into the hands of my enemy. "

"Perhaps not; still you may be unable to choose between the evils. "

"Let me know them, and I will try. "

"As I said, it may be a desperate alternative, and I must ask of youbeforehand to pardon me for being compelled to give you only the choicebetween what may prove one of two equally direful evils. Your only hope ofrelief from present evil _is in me_. "

This was an unexpected announcement; it fairly startled Ellen, and, in themoment of bewilderment, she made no reply. He continued:

"Do not consider me selfish--at least do not condemn me for my selfishness. If you have ever loved, you know what almost omnipotent power that passionhas over the mind and heart. For long years I have loved you in secret, with a burning, consuming intensity of feeling, which defies all efforts todescribe. I cannot tell you all the joy or agony love has awakened in mybosom; I can only say, that you have it now in your power to render mesupremely happy, or abjectly miserable. If you will cast yourself on mylove, I will save you from your plotting foe, and devote my life to yourservice, and to make you happy. If I had any other means of saving you, Iwould not propose this one, but I have not. Just now I have not time toexplain all that I would like to make clear, and must ask you, for thepresent, to take my word; for at any moment, even now, your malignant foemay come upon us, and then all is lost. Can you accept the alternative?"

"I--I thank you, but I cannot. "

"You say, in view of all the facts, this is your unalterable decision, fromwhich I may not hope to persuade you?"

"It is. For all or any kind intentions and wishes you may have had or stillentertain for me, please accept my sincere thanks; but do not attempt tochange my purpose, for it is fixed, and I would save us both the pain ofrepeating it. "

"Then farewell, and God protect you!"

"Amen!"

This one word was said in such a fervent, and, at the same time, confidentmanner, the stranger paused a moment as he was turning away; for a shorttime he seemed engaged in deep thought, which had the effect of totallychanging his former, and apparently predetermined course of action. Turningagain to Ellen, who saw his hesitancy of action, he said:

"You rely, then, in God?"

"I do, most assuredly. "

"And you have a hope that He will deliver you from the sad situation inwhich you are now placed?"

"I humbly trust He will shield and protect me from harm. "

"Perhaps that confidence induces your present course of action?"

"Doubtless it does, in part. "

"Well, let me tell you that angels nor devils can save you!"

"I have no wish to be saved by the devils. "

"I wonder you can be at all merry in your situation. "

"I begin to be less apprehensive than I was. "

"Indeed! and why, pray?"

"To be plain, an explanation will not be very flattering to your vanity, orvery creditable to my penetration, and, therefore, I had rather not makeit. "

"I see you suspect me, so you may as well know the truth. "

Saying which, he threw off some outward disguises, and stood before theastonished maiden--LOUIS DURANT himself!

"You see me, Ellen Walton, and in me your worst enemy, because you will notpermit me to be a friend. I have made the present attempt to win you bystratagem, in the not very sanguine hope of success. I have failed--now formy revenge. Know that all I have said concerning my plans, and the net Ihave woven around you, is true. You are now in my power, and I only forbeartaking you captive at this time because I wish you to live for a shortperiod in dread and suspense, as you once made me. "

"Keep to the truth, sir, in making your statements. "

"I intend to; and so bid you beware, and _to escape if you can!_"

"I have a very comfortable expectation for the future, thank you. "

"Well, cherish it, then; hug it close, for it will be short lived, I giveyou fair warning. "

"The warnings of a man who comes with the tissue of falsehood, are oflittle worth. Keep them to yourself. "

"Beware how you presume on my forbearance; it may give way. "

"I presume on nothing but your cowardice. "

"Enough! enough! I will bear no more! I go, but you will see me soon again!_Your doom is sealed!_ '_Cowardice!_' This from a woman! Gods! but I'llremember this in my revenge!"

He started, as if to leave the place, but turned again, and said. 

"Girl, I dislike to leave you in this manner. For the love I bear you, Iwould still see you happy--happy as a wife and not a despised outcast--thescorn of society. You might once have been my honorable bride; yes, youmight still be. Passing by all your insults, I would still offer you myhand, and honorable marriage. "

"Infamous villain! how dare you insult my self-respect by even naming sucha thing? Never dare again, to couple my name with yours! never, sir! It isthe basest sacrilege to humanity!"

"Very well. Our _names_ shall _not_ be coupled; our _destinies shall be!_Go, with the consoling thought to cheer you for a few fleeting hours. HereI stand and swear it--witness my oath, ye trees! witness it, earth and sky!and, if such beings there are, witness it, angels and devils--_Ellen Waltonshall be mine!_"

He was so deeply absorbed in calling on his witnesses, he noticed nothingabout him, and now looking to the spot where she stood, to observe theeffect of his words, behold, Ellen was not there. His tragic agony had beenwasted on the "desert air. " Turning away once more, he left the place in arage. 

Ellen, though she had left, heard his words in the distance, andnotwithstanding she had made a show of boldness, she was really alarmed, and greatly dreaded the future. She knew that an evil-minded man, howevercontemptible, was capable of doing infinite harm to a fellow-being, whendeterminedly set thereon. Thus, between hope and fear, her time was passed. 

CHAPTER VI. 

PLANS FRUSTRATED--ESPIONAGE. 

Durant, who considered himself a perfect genius in contriving strategeticalmeasures, now turned all his attention to the execution of the secret planshe had matured. He first accompanied a body of Indians, who were ready tomarch upon the settlements of Kentucky, with a select few, to whom he hadconfided his intentions of capturing a white squaw. With these villains heintended to attack the house of the Waltons, while the main body of thesavages made their onset upon the bulk of the settlement, including theblock-house. This measure failed, for the simple reason that he hadmistaken the house, and a family by the name of Scraggs suffered in thestead of his intended victim. [A]

[Footnote A: "Western Adventure, " page 179-182. ]

He next resolved to go, with a few of his renegade followers, in a secretmanner, and steal Ellen at night, or during some of her daily walks, whenalone. Soon after crossing the river, he was taken sick, and his followers, mistaking his directions, went another way, and made a worse blunder thanon the first occasion; and a party of whites coming into the vicinity ofhis camp, the villain hastened to recross the river to the Ohio side, notyet knowing the fate of the expedition, that portion of the band who hadbeen commissioned with the execution of the plot not having returned whenhe was forced to retreat. However, he was not long kept in suspense; one ofhis men came back, and reported a wonderful adventure with a "big squaw, taller than the greatest warrior, " who killed a number of the Indians, hesaid, and when two of the others undertook to get down the chimney, "bigsquaw took up mighty great wallet, all full of feathers, more than was onall the eagles of all the hunting grounds of the red men, and tearing itopen, easy as we tear a leaf, poured them on the fire. Big black smoke puffup quick as powder flash, and down come Indian like he shot. White squawtake up big tomahawk, and strike both on the head. Me nearly in the door bythis time; big squaw jump at me with he great tomahawk, so big the greatchief no lift it, and lifted it to strike. Me no like to be killed by oldsquaw, so me come away. " A very marvelous story told the Indians, full ofhigh flourishes and exaggerations, but founded on truth, nevertheless. [B]

[Footnote B: "Western Adventure, " page 187. ]

Durant saw that some mistake had been made, and that his attempt hadsignally failed, notwithstanding his confidence and boasting, and the carewith which he had laid his "hidden toils. " He was greatly exasperated atthe failure of his plots, on the success of which he had built suchsanguine hopes. 

After much reflection, and the formation and abandonment of many schemesfor the accomplishment of his object, he finally hit upon a plan which hefelt sure would succeed. This time he called into requisition the servicesof his old crony in crime, the infamous, but not untainted, Ramsey. Withhim and a couple of trusty Indians, he set out on his expedition, resolvedto succeed at the risk of his life. Ellen he would possess at all hazards. 

The party reached a point which was as near the settlement as prudenceallowed them to go, and here, in the deep forest, his three companions hidthemselves, while he went forward to make observations, and work out thedetails of the plot and attack. Stealthily approaching the vicinity of theWaltons, he secreted himself in a hollow tree during the day, from anorifice of which, at some distance from the base, he had quite a commandingview of the adjacent country for a considerable distance either way. Herehe placed himself to make observations. 

It was in the early part of autumn; the weather was mild and pleasant; theforest had put on its diadem of rich colors, purple, scarlet and yellow, and was gorgeously beautiful in the ripened glory of its drapery. Theseason, the scene, the sunny warmth all invited to a participation in theenjoyment which nature held out to those who would accept her bounty, andrefresh themselves in her sylvan bowers. 

It was on the second day of his watch, that Durant had the satisfaction ofnoticing the arrival of a gentleman at the house of Mr. Walton, which wasfollowed on the succeeding day by a circumstance which at once gave himfresh encouragement and sanguine hopes. Ellen made her appearance, leaningon the gentleman's arm; they were out enjoying the pleasure of an excursioninto the quiet woods, and to his infinite gratification, wended their wayto his immediate neighborhood. 

Fortune sometimes favors the wicked, and, in this instance, she smiled onthe villain; for the lovers, fancying the spot, seated themselves on thetrunk of a fallen tree, that lay close to the one in which he had ensconcedhimself, and by placing his ear near the orifice, he could distinctly hearwhat passed between them. 

"It is so refreshing to sit in the shade of the 'gray old forest, '" saidEllen. "I have not enjoyed such a treat these many months. "

"Why, with your facilities, I should think you would recreate every day inpleasant weather. "

"That was my habit formerly; but the last time I ventured out alone, I metwith an unexpected streak of ill luck, which has deterred me ever sincefrom laying myself liable to a repetition of the same bad fortune. "

"Indeed! You have not informed me of this before. "

"For the simple reason that more agreeable thoughts and memories haveoccupied my mind; and, after all, it is hardly worth relating, though itmade me feel very unpleasant for a time. "

"I must know of this adventure. "

"It was only the unlooked-for appearance of my old and sworn enemy, Durant, who made another attempt to deceive me; but failing in his designs, finallyrenewed his threats of revenge. "

She then, at her lover's request, narrated the incidents of her interviewwith Durant, as already known to the reader. 

"Strange that the villain should form such an unaccountable dislike foryou, when you never injured him in the least. "

"I think his bad nature was excited, and his ill-will increased, by a fewwords of merited rebuke I was forced, by his unmanliness, to pronounceagainst him, the last time he was at our house in Virginia. "

"And you have heard nothing from him since the day he obtruded himself uponyour notice here in the woods?"

"Nothing direct or definite, though I think he made an attempt to captureme, with the aid of some Indians, soon afterward, but failed in his objectfrom some cause. But notwithstanding I have heard no direct tidings fromhim, I feel a constant dread of evil, as though some impending calamity washanging over me. "

"Such fears had better be banished at once from your mind. "

"I know it, and have tried to get rid of them, but they will, despite myefforts to the contrary, come into my mind. I do not and will not yield tothem, though I find it impossible at all times to shake them off. "

"Singular, truly; I pray God, they presage no harm. "

"Oh, I so much wish you could always be near me; I dread nothing in yourpresence. "

"I hope the time is not far distant when this dearest wish of both ourhearts will be realized. "

The conversation took a tender cast at this point; and as matters of theheart are secrets between lovers, which they dislike for third parties tolook into, we will take ourselves away, and leave them to enjoy their hourof happiness in undisturbed quiet. 

Several days brought a return of much the same routine of events, thelovers always spending an hour of each afternoon in the woods. Durant keptto his tree, and the others invariably occupied the same seat near hishiding-place. At the end of a week, Durant learned from the conversation ofthe young couple that the gentleman was to return to Virginia in a day ortwo, to make preparations for the coming wedding, which was to take placeabout the holidays, he being now on a visit to arrange the preliminaries, and enjoy for a brief time the society of his betrothed. When they hadreturned home, Durant muttered to himself:

"Now is my time! To-morrow is their last day for walking, and, like lovingfools as they are, they will be so absorbed in each others' feelings, andthe silly sentimentality of love, as to be easily surprised. Yes, to-morrowwill be my time!"

And gloating over the anticipated triumph, he left his burrow, and hastenedto his companions, to make known his intentions, and prepare everything forthe event of the morrow. He and one Indian were to seize and secure Ellen, while Ramsey and the other should perform the more difficult task ofcapturing her lover. All the details of their arrangements were discussedand adopted; and Durant, now that he felt certain of his victims--for hishate of Ellen's lover was bitter, though of recent date--was almost besidehimself with malignant and hellish joy. He saw before him the speedyaccomplishment of his fiendish purpose--the gratification of his inveteratehate and long sought revenge, by the commission of the most damnable actknown this side of the "bottomless pit" of darkness; and his sin-pollutedheart actually swelled with venomous delight, and demoniac exultation. Oneof the fairest flowers of earth is to be plucked by his rude hand, andsoiled by his touch and embrace! Will he succeed in his satanic designs?

CHAPTER VII. 

THE LOVERS

Ellen Walton, ere she left the home of her childhood for the scenes ofborder life, was the affianced bride of Walter Hamilton, a young man ofmost promising talent, irreproachable character, and fine looking withal;and, in a word, was worthy of the high favor he found in the eyes and theheart of his beloved. As gathered from the narrations of the last chapter, he was now on a visit to the wilderness home of his betrothed, to arrangefor the nuptials, which were to be solemnized on Christmas Eve, the winterseason being deemed most safe from the predatory excursions of the Indians. All these particulars their bitter adversary was familiar with; and he soexulted over the sad termination of their plans, he could scarcely commandhis feelings, or act with becoming sanity. 

Without further ado, we will introduce the lovers at their last interviewin the forest, previous to Hamilton's return home. The same spot finds themseated again, as though fate led them surely on into the jaws ofdestruction, and opened the way of triumph for the plotting villain. 

"And this is the last time we shall enjoy together the sweet solitude ofthis sylvan temple of love?" said Hamilton, after they had been conversingfor some time on the hopes before them. 

"Oh, I pray it may not be the _last_ time! What fatal words!" replied thefair Ellen, as a momentary pallor overspread her beautiful face. 

"You know, love I only meant for this visit. Of course, I hope to enjoy thesame felicity many times when we shall mutually sustain to each other thosedearest of all relations; after that our hopes shall have been fullyconsummated. "

"I know you did not intend to say the last time for life; but the word_last_ struck with a chill to my heart, and called up old dreads, which, unbidden, sent a thrill of fear through my spirit. I could not avoid thethought that this _might be_, indeed, our last meeting. Would to heaven theunwelcome thought were banished from my mind, never again to return. "

"Well, love, just banish it. You are certainly in no personal danger; andthere is hardly a possibility, let alone a probability, protected as Ishall be, of my encountering serious danger on my way home. "

"I know all you say; I can see no cause of fear; no reason to apprehenddanger; yet I _do_ feel alarmed; but it is a vague, undefined sensation, which I hope reason will soon banish from my mind. I am not now, and neverhave been, a believer in presentiments, and I do not intend to become aconvert to the notion to-day. "

"I am glad to hear you speak in that manner. There are but few things inthe compass of possibility that may not be achieved, if we bring a resolutewill to bear upon them. The belief in presentiments, signs of good and badluck, and the like, is calculated, in no small degree, to 'make slaves ofus all, ' and to detract very much from the happiness we might otherwiseenjoy. I have known persons who were perfect slaves to such things, havingtheir evil omens and good omens, their bad days and good days, their moonsigns, their owl signs, their cat and dog signs, and I know not what allother kinds of signs, all of which were regarded with the reverence dueonly to sacred things. I must confess I have often been disgusted at thetomfoolery of some of these 'signs' people. "

"Really, I hope you do not intend to be _personal_ in your remarks?"

"My usual reply to such inquiries is, 'if the shoe fits, wear it;' but youknow, love, I had no intention of alluding to you in what I said; at least, if you did not know it, I tell you so now. "

"Very well; your amusing strictures on the 'signs' have had the effect todispel, in a good degree, my forebodings of evil, whatever may have givenrise to them. I presume, if the sign is really reliable, I may now concludethat the danger, if any was near me, has passed away. "

"One would naturally suppose that the more imminent the danger, theheavier would be the pressure on the spirits. "

"And who knows but some unseen calamity _was_ near us--a serpent, forinstance, whose deadly fangs might have proved fatal, or some other unknownor invisible foe, with power to work us evil?"

"Without entering the field of speculation, we will just suppose yoursnakeship has departed, and, as your spirits have recovered their wontedelasticity, let us talk of more pleasing and interesting matters. "

"With all my heart. "

And _had_ the serpent, Durant, really withdrawn himself? Had some longburied cord of human sympathy at last been touched in his heart, and theslumbering emotions of a better nature awakened? Let us hope so if we can. 

The lovers continued to converse of their hopes for the future, and regretsfor the immediate separation; and their attention became so fixed in eachother, that it would have required some extraordinary occurrence or soundto arouse them. In reply to a remark of his companion, Hamilton said:

"Yes, but four months, and our probation will be ended. Would that theywould speed away as rapidly as the past week. Four months, and then shallour happiness be--"

The sentence was never finished. At that precise moment rude hands graspedeach lover. A smothered cry arose to Ellen's lips, but was hushed by acovering which was placed and fastened over her mouth. They were bothsecured with thongs, and led away into captivity. As Ellen was beingsecured, the miscreant captor hissed in her ear:

"Be of good cheer, you are in the hands of Durant, the 'DOG!' whodistinctly remembers your former kindness and amiability!"

CHAPTER VIII. 

THE CAPTIVES. 

With all the speed possible, Durant hurried off toward the Ohio, determinedas soon as it could be done, to place that river between himself andcaptives and any pursuers that might follow them, when it became known thatthe lovers were missing. 

It was a matter of wonder with Ellen's family what could keep her andHamilton out so late in the evening; and when darkness set in, and theywere still absent, the wonder changed to alarm. Search was instantly made;they were traced to their resting-place; the evident marks of a scufflewere visible; and the unanimous opinion of all was that they were in thehands of Indians. Preparations for pursuit were immediately instituted, andby daylight next morning, a strong band of armed pioneers, well mounted, were on the trail of the fugitives, determined to retake the captives, ifsuch a feat were in the bounds of possibility. 

Durant had everything so arranged, that his party need not be subjected toa moment's delay. Every member of his band, including the prisoners, expected a vigorous pursuit, and the lovers were not without hope that itwould prove successful. In this hope, they, as far as circumstances andability permitted, endeavored to retard the progress of the captors by slowmovements; and Durant was finally constrained to threaten them, if they didnot step with greater alacrity; for he feared they might be overtaken. 

At length the hilly banks of the Ohio were reached; the clear waters ofthat noble stream lay before them; and between the prisoners and despair, and no friends in sight to bid them hope! Durant now concluded all wassafe; and the malice of his heart, which the pressure of circumstances hadkept smothered, began again to display itself. Pointing to the verdure-cladand tree-crowned hills on the other side of the river, he said:

"Once there, amid the lovely groves of Ohio, and you are beyond the lasthope of recovery from my power, my beautiful girl! Then and there I shallhave the exquisite pleasure of informing you more particularly concerningmy plans for the future. For the present, receive my assurances, thatnothing else could give me such unbounded satisfaction as the felicityunspeakable of having won my old and dear love from all competitors for herhand and person, and the certain assurance, that, for the time to come, sheis all my own, without fear of rivalship!"

The bitter irony attempted in this malignantly polite address went to theheart of the fair girl; but she resolutely set herself against any displayof fear, or the least manifestation of alarm, well knowing that the marksof such emotions would but increase the revengeful feeling of delightevinced by her adversary. 

Just as Durant concluded his speech, the tramp of horses' feet was heard inthe distance, and the cry raised by the Indians:

"White man come! white man come!"

All hands sprung to unmoor the canoes, which were in readiness, concealedamong the drooping branches of some trees which overhung the margin of thestream. While thus engaged, Hamilton, who was watching his opportunity, knocked down the Indian who guarded him, sent Durant whirling round like atop to the distance of ten or twelve feet, seized Ellen in his arms, andwith strength almost superhuman, and a speed miraculous under thecircumstances, bounded away in the direction of the approaching horsemen, who were now visible through the interstices of the forest, a good way off, but coming rapidly on to the rescue, though, as yet, in ignorance of theirnear proximity to friends and foes. 

"Seize them! seize them!--shoot the infernal dog!" roared Durant, in ahoarse voice of passion and rage, so soon as he recovered from theastonishment and fright into which the unceremonious assault of Hamiltonhad thrown him. 

[Illustration: "Hamilton knocked down the Indian who guarded him, sentDurant whirling round like a top to the distance of ten or twelvefeet. "--See page 54. ]

His first command was not obeyed, for Hamilton and Ellen were alreadybeyond reach when the order was given; but the second one led to thedischarge of two guns without effect, and the leveling of a third byRamsey, with a coolness and steadiness of nerve and aim which gaveassurance of success. His finger was on the trigger, when Durant himselfthrew up the muzzle of the rifle, and sent the ball whizzing through theair, some ten feet above the heads of the fugitives. 

"My revenge must be fuller than that, or not at all, " he said. "The ballwould have killed both, and I would not have had that for the world. "

He had hardly uttered these words, when the sharp crack of the remainingIndian's rifle, who had recovered from the blow given him by Hamilton, andwas glad of the opportunity of so speedily avenging it, rung in his earwith piercing shrillness, and looking in the direction of the flyingcouple, Durant saw Hamilton stagger with his burden, and then both fell tothe earth. Instantly the demon was roused within him; every emotion of fearwas swallowed up in his usually cowardly heart by the burning thirst forrevenge which rankled in his bosom; and crying "_Come_!" he rushed to thespot where the lovers lay, followed by his comrade. Both were wounded, butneither was dead. Lifting the bleeding Ellen in his arms, he bore her back, while Ramsey and an Indian did the same by Hamilton. Springing into theircanoes, and bending to the oars with all the strength they could muster, they were soon far out into the stream, and had just reached a point ofsafety, when the pursuing party of whites came up to the water's brink. Several shots were fired at the canoes without effect, and then the mentried to force their horses into the river; but by yelling and splashingthe water with their oars by the enemy, the beasts were effectuallyfrightened, so that no efforts of their riders could induce them to attemptthe unwilling task of swimming across. 

Durant could perceive the agony of the father and brother of Ellen, as theywrung their hands in despair, still vainly striving to urge forward theirstubborn steeds. Feeling perfectly secure, now that the pursuers wereeffectually baffled in their designs, he gave orders to cease thefrightening demonstrations, and continue their course. In a few minutes theOhio shore was gained, and they soon buried themselves in the deep woodsbeyond and were lost to the sight of those on the opposite bank, whoreluctantly turned their faces homeward, and, in deep and mournful silence, retraced their steps, revolving in their minds what next could be done. 

Hamilton and Ellen were both severely wounded, the ball having passedthrough the right side of each, but no vital part seemed to have suffered, and the wounds were not deemed mortal of themselves, but might prove fatalif not properly attended to. Durant's first care was to have them dressedand bound up; and he used every means within his reach to expedite theirrecovery. He had them taken to a place of safety, a kind of cove, known tohimself and Ramsey, which was in an obscure and unfrequented spot, wherethey were carefully nursed until in a fair way for speedy recovery. 

Until now, Durant had been careful to say and do nothing that might tend toexcite the minds of his captives, fearing that inflamation might ensue, androb him of his anticipated triumph and revenge. But so soon as theirconvalescence was distinctly manifest, the crisis and the danger past, hebegan to torment his victims; the one of his wounded vanity, hisdisappointed avarice, and his venomous hate; the other of his envy andjealous malice. In consummating his revenge upon Ellen, he would not onlygratify his malicious and vengeful nature, but minister, also, to thebasest passions of a corrupt human heart. Seating himself in her presenceone day, he said:

"I now understand why it was that I found no more favor in your sight whileso foolishly attempting to win your love. Your heart was already occupied, a circumstance you took good care to conceal. Thank my stars, my rival isnow in my hands! And do you know, my dear, that he is a doomed man? If not, permit me to inform you of the fact. "

"Sir, what has he ever done to you that you should wish to harm him?"

"Done! Has he not robbed me of your love, your hand, and made my life ahopeless desert and a weary waste?"

"No, sir, he has not. My heart was his before I saw you, and _you_, sir, attempted the part of a robber, not Mr. Hamilton. Now judge yourself byyour own rule and what fate should be yours?"

"Ah, very fine logic, truly; but, unfortunately, you have not the power toback it up. I presume you have never beheld the sacrifice of a victim on afuneral pile, nor more than read of prisoners burned at the stake; howwould such a spectacle affect you, think?"

This was said with a peculiar expression, and was evidently intended tomake a strong impression; but whatever its real effect upon the mind of hisauditor, no visible tokens of dread or pain were manifested, and Ellenreplied:

"I do not know, so much would depend on circumstances; but that I wouldabhor the actors in the scene of barbarous cruelty, I can well imagine. "

This was not the kind of a reply expected, and Durant changed his discoursefrom an insinuating tone to a direct manner. 

"I perceive it will be necessary for me to render my meaning more explicit, and I now change the form of my query, and beg to know how you wouldprobably feel, were you compelled to witness the burning of your lover atthe stake?"

A momentary paleness blanched the cheek of the fair girl, as this heartlessinterrogation was fully comprehended, but recovering herself quickly fromthe rude shock, she replied:

"I doubt not the sight would be a harrowing one, but I do not anticipatesuch an unlikely event. "

"Pardon me, but I may as well tell you at first, that this fate is in storefor you. "

"Why do you persist in this attempt at refinement of cruelty? Bad as youare, I give you credit for too much humanity to believe your words are morethan an idle threat, which you have no intention of putting intoexecution. "

"Then you have given me credit for more humanity than is justly my due; forI never was more earnest in my life, and it is my fixed determination to doexactly what I have intimated. "

Ellen, who had all the time been really alarmed, now gave way, in herreduced strength of body, to the feelings which, until now, she had kept insubjection; and, changing her tone, commenced pleading with the miscreant:

"Mr. Hamilton has never harmed you, and can, therefore, only be hated byyou through me; do not, then, make him the object of your wrath, but let itfall on me. I will readily burn at the stake to save him. "

This last remark, as it showed the depths and tenderness of her love forhis rival, only excited him the more, and he repeated his intention ofburning Hamilton at the stake in her presence, with many additions, purposely introduced to make a more horrifying impression. In vain shepleaded for her lover, and offered herself as the sacrifice; the onlyeffect of her prayers was to render him more savage and determined in hisintentions and avowals. The excitement of the interview, however, in hercase, superinduced a state of fever, which bid fair, for a few days, torender her recovery very doubtful. This result was not expected by Durant, and he in turn became alarmed, lest his dearly bought vengeance should yetslip from him. Every exertion was put forth for her restoration, andfinally success crowned the well directed but ill intentioned efforts ofthe villain. Ellen's fever abated, and she again began to mend. It would besome time, however, ere the monster would dare renew his threats, and inthe interim, he set his wits to work with a little different object inview. A new thought had entered his mind, the ultimate end of which hewould endeavor to carry out. 

He had never fallen in love with savage life, because it was one of toomuch peril to suit his natural disposition to cowardice, and he wouldgladly return to civilized life, if he could do so safely--his Indian homeand habits having only been adopted as a means, and the only means, ofministering to his revengeful desires. His idea looked to theaccomplishment of this object, and he was fain to believe he saw a way tosucceed. As Ellen was to act a part in his newly formed plan, his mannertoward her changed. He was polite and respectful in his words andattentions. He was, also, very kind and considerate toward Hamilton. Theywere both surprised at this unexpected change in the demeanor of theircaptor, but were unable to account for it. All was explained in time. Oneday, after Ellen was much restored, he ventured on the followingcommunication:

"I have, " he said to her, "had very serious thoughts of late. A singulardream, which made a powerful impression on my mind, opened up to my mentalvision the sinfulness of my past life, and convinced me of the necessity ofrepentance and reformation. I would gladly amend my ways, and lead a newand better life, but my way is hedged up before me. I am an outcast ofsociety, made so by my own acts, the dark enormity of which I now beholdwith astonishment, and, unless some great influence is brought to bear inmy favor, I dare not return to a Christian community, and if I remain hereamong the heathens, I may give up all hope at once, as it will beimpossible for me, as one of the savages, to become a moral and Christianman. It is in your power, fair lady, to give me the requisite guarantee ofsafety. May I hope that you will extend to me the hand of salvation?"

Ellen hardly knew whether to believe in the man's sincerity or not; buthoping for the best, she replied:

"If in your good intentions I can aid you in any way, I shall be most happyto do so. "

"Thank you; I expected as much from your generous heart, though I havemerited nothing but hatred from you by my acts. I will consult Mr. Hamiltonon the subject, before pointing out more definitely the mode in which youcan serve and save me. "

Leaving her presence, he placed himself before Hamilton, whom he addressedafter this manner:

"I am aware, my good sir, that you are on somewhat intimate terms with MissWalton, the lady in another apartment of this rather dismal abode, and, Idoubt not, have much influence over her. If so, I very much desire thebenefit of that influence, to aid me in the best and noblest undertaking ofmy life. "

He then explained his intentions and desires of reformation, and theimpediments in the way, much in the same manner as he had done to Ellen;after which he continued:

"Now, to relieve me from my embarrassing situation, I deem it needful toform a connection with some influential person or family, whoserecommendation and protection will secure me from harm, and restore me tothe bosom of that society from whose enjoyments and privileges I severedmyself by a rash act, committed in an hour of passion, and followed up bya strange course of infatuation ever since. I know of none upon whose namesand aid I would sooner cast myself than upon you and Miss Walton, as yourfamilies are of the first respectability, and could throw an effectualshield around me. I would, therefore, that you let me bear to the younglady the assurances that you approve my plans and purposes, (if you reallydo so, ) and that you are willing to aid me yourself, and hope she willalso, in carrying them out. "

Hamilton was still confined by his wound, which had been a much moreserious one than that inflicted upon Ellen; and in his then state ofprostration, was not as well prepared to scorn the motives of Durant, orpenetrate his designs, as he might have been under more favorable auspices;and having no reason to doubt the sincerity of the seemingly repentant man, he entered into his plans at once, with all the warmth of a benevolent andChristian heart. He said:

"I can hardly believe it necessary that I should say a word to Miss Walton, to induce her to put forth her best endeavors to serve you in so worthy awork; but, if need be, bear to her the assurance of my hearty approval ofyour designs and wishes, and that I shall do all in my power to aid you inthe laudable efforts you are making to return to a Christian country, and avirtuous life. "

"As I have, very unfortunately, laid myself liable to her distrust, willyou have the goodness to place your approval on this slip of paper?"

Saying which, he handed him the paper and a pencil. He wrote as follows:

 "MISS WALTON:--The bearer, Mr. Durant, has laid before me his intentions and wishes, and the difficulties in the way of his reformation. I most heartily approve his plans, as they seem to be the most judicious that now occur to me, and hope you will assist him to the utmost of your ability in his very worthy object. 

 "HAMILTON. "

As Durant run his eye over the lines, a peculiar expression of satisfactioncrossed his features, and with the warmest thanks on his lips, hedeparted, and lost no time in again presenting himself before Ellen, whomhe thus addressed:

"I have just laid my case before Mr. Hamilton, whose opinion on the subjectyou will find here expressed in his own hand-writing. "

And he gave her the slip. She read the lines traced upon it, when heproceeded:

"If I only dared to hope you would as readily approve and as heartily enterinto my plans, all disquiet in my heart would at once be set at rest. "

"I am quite sure I shall object to nothing Mr. Hamilton approves; and inall good endeavors, I shall be most happy to render you all the assistanceI can command or bestow. "

"Then I need entertain no further apprehensions, and will at once makeknown to you the details which seem to me necessary to be carried out. There are very few persons in the settlements who have any knowledge of myconnection with the Indians, and my first request is that you never, underany circumstances, allude to this connection, or let it be known that Ihave been here. Have I your promise?"

"Most certainly. "

"I desire, in the second place, that you will say as much good of me as youcan, (and that, I am sorry to say, will be but little, ) to those who mayask you for information concerning me; but if you have _nothing_ good tosay, then that you will say no evil, and especially if my Indian life isalluded to. May I hope for your favor in this respect?"

"I will do my best to exonerate you in all cases where your reputation isat stake, and to aid you in reaching a place of honor in society. "

"Thank you. I have but one additional solicitation to make, and if to thisyou can give your assent, I shall be truly happy, delighted, andconfident. "

All this time he had been driving at one point, which he had now reached, but was slow to present. A momentary pause ensued; Ellen was in doubt as tothe nature of the requirement, and he of the propriety of making it. But hehad set his all upon the desperate stake for which he was playing, and itwould not now do to leave the game. He at length went on:

"I shall not feel myself safe in society unless I can form an alliance withsome family of note and respectability. I am not as extensively acquaintedas some others--in a word, I know of no young lady but yourself to whom Ican offer my hand, and having loved you so long and ardently, I can donothing less than make this as my final request, _that you consent tobecome my wife_. I make this request the only condition of release, andupon your acceptance of my hand depends my present and future hope, mysalvation in time and eternity. My fate is in your hands, and you can raiseme to heaven, or cast me down to hell. Will you save me?"

It would be quite impossible to depict the consternation this announcementcreated in the mind of Ellen. In spite of her better judgment, and theprecedents in the villain's former life, she had suffered herself to bebeguiled by his seeming sincerity of manner into the hope that he wasreally desirous of reforming; and even now she could hardly believe her ownears, so consummate was his hypocrisy; but as the whole truth shone out toher comprehension, she saw through his scheme at once--that all his seemingrepentance was a pretense as hollow as his own heart. The hope that hadbegun to swell in her heart was blotted out in a moment. She repliedwithout hesitation:

"I cannot accede to your last proposition. "

"Why not?"

"It is impossible. "

"Then you willingly consign me to wretchedness in this life, and toperdition hereafter. "

"I do no such thing. _You_ are not responsible for _my_ acts; and yourrepentance can be just as sincere without a wife as with one. "

"You are mistaken. If I am doomed to remain among the Indians, I shallnever be able to reform, however earnestly I may desire to do so; and if Igo to the settlements, I shall be slain as a foe, unless protected byfamily ties and influence; these I can secure in no other way than bybecoming your husband. "

"I am of an entirely different opinion; and I think your whole scheme avery thin and flimsy contrivance, of which you ought to be ashamed. "

"But there are two against you. Mr. Hamilton, as you have already seen, perfectly coincides with me in his views, and--"

"I beg leave to correct you. Mr. Hamilton never consented to your lastproposition, for the very good reason that it was never mentioned to him;in this respect you have tried to deceive me; but to put the matter torest, at once and forever, let me say, as mistress of my own decisions, that whether _he_ should consent to your proposition or not, _I neverwill_!"

"Then, as you voluntarily cast me off, and consign me to infamy andhopeless wretchedness, be the consequences upon your own head. I came toyou and implored assistance in my extremity, but you turned away, and leftme in despair. Do not, therefore, accuse me of cruelty if I demand by forcethat which you have denied as a free gift. You know that I have the powerof life and death over yourself and Hamilton, and I now ask you, as a lastresort, to choose between assenting to become my wife and seeing your loverat the stake! You may well start and turn pale; for as sure as there is asky above and the earth beneath us, I swear that one or the other fateshall be yours. Make your own election, and, in doing so, bear in mind thatHamilton's death will be gratuitous, if caused, for you shall then be worsethan my wife. As a lawful companion, I will use my best endeavors to makeyou happy; as a companion in what the world calls _guilt_, I will bindmyself by no such promise. Think of all these things, and then decide. "

"Louis Durant, the very proposition you make, accompanied as it is by thealternative, is one of such black enormity, that if nothing else were addedto debase you in my estimation, I would spurn your offer as I would theproffered hand of Satan himself or of the vilest imp in the loathsome pitof night where he reigns! You have your answer. As well try to pluck thesun from his place in the heavens or wrench the sparkling stars from thefirmament as to alter my resolve. "

"Perhaps you will think differently when the trying hour comes, perhapsrepent when it is too late. "

"Never, sir villain! Do you suppose I cannot penetrate the thin gauze thatis intended to hide your motives? Your highest aspiration is after the_Wealth_ you imagine me to possess; if I were poor, you would not evenoffer me your hand, let alone make such efforts to obtain it. I see throughall your devices, base miscreant, including your sham repentance, whichdeserves the descent of God's just indignation upon your guilty head, andpolluted soul!"

"Your perceptions are exceedingly acute, I must confess; but I leave youfor the present, to reflect on the subject, so vital to us all, and hopethat reason may yet prevail. "

Much after the same manner he continued to persecute her, day after day, and with no better success. In the meantime Hamilton had so far recoveredas to be able to walk about. To him Durant appealed; but his offer offreedom, on condition of using his influence to induce Ellen to consent tobecome his captor's wife, was rejected with the contempt and scorn itmerited, and a brave man could give it. 

This was the last peg upon which the villain hung a hope of working out hispurpose, and he now resolved to fall back on his first intention, andexecute his long threatened vengeance. The stake was prepared after themost approved Indian model, and the fagots piled high around it. The twovictims were then led out to see what awaited them; and this excess ofcruelty, this torture in advance, was forced upon the lovers with a view toshake their resolution. 

Again they were separately and jointly appealed to; but with the sameresult as before; they were pale with hopeless despair, but firm andunwavering in purpose. 

"I would die a thousand deaths of torture, my beloved Ellen, rather thanpersuade you to sacrifice yourself to save me, " was Hamilton's language tohis companion in distress. "Life without you would be a burden; and I cannow die with a pleasing hope of reunion beyond the grave. "

Durant would not permit a continuation of such interchange of thoughts, and they were separated. 

On the following day Hamilton was fastened to the stake, and an Indianstood ready with a torch to fire the combustibles so soon as the word ofcommand was given. 

"Behold the fate of him you pretend to love!" said Durant to Ellen, whom hehad dragged to the spot. "His destiny is yet in the balances; say but theword, and he shall go free!"

Pale as death itself, and scarcely able to stand, Ellen replied:

"The will of God be done! I am prepared for the worst!"

"The worst?" and he hissed in her ear some words of infamy. 

"Oh, God! not that! not that!" and she reeled as if struck with a blow. 

"Then, in the name of reason, save yourself, save both! It is easily done. "

The villain's words calmed her in a moment, and she responded:

"Either fate is more than I can bear; but I will not perjure my soul tosave myself from any fate it pleases God to send upon me. "

"And you will not be an honorable bride, then?"

"Yours, --_never_!"

"Fire the fagots!" he commanded in a voice of rage, and the order wasinstantly obeyed by the Indian who stood impatiently awaiting the word. 

CHAPTER IX. 

THE BURNING STAKE

The material around the stake was the most highly inflammable that could becollected, and a mighty blaze soon spread along the pile, with its fieryspires leaping high in air, and its forked tongues hissing like serpents!Snapping, crackling, roaring! the devouring flames rushed to their work ofdeath!

The stake was in the center of the heap, the wood being piled around it ata distance of some feet, leaving an open space on all sides, in which theprisoner could walk, being fastened with a cord, some ten feet in length, one end of which was lashed to the stake, a large post, driven firmly intothe ground. This vacant space was purposely left, that the sufferings ofthe doomed might be prolonged, a species of cruelty common in Indiantortures. As it would be some time before the flames would touch Hamilton, though his sufferings from heat would be excruciating in a little while, murdering him by slow inches, Durant hoped that the sufferings andreflections of this interval would bring repentance at the eleventh hour, and cause his victim to plead for mercy on his own terms. 

The fiery circle kept drawing nearer and nearer, narrowing the spacebetween life and death at every moment; yet no groan escaped the lips ofHamilton; and he evinced the steady and unflinching heroism of a martyr. Ata sign from Durant, the Indians prepared themselves with long splinters, which were to be fired at one end, and then driven into the flesh of thesufferer; the guns were loaded with powder, to be fired against the nakedperson of the prisoner when the signal should be given. Hamilton saw allthese preparations, but they shook not his firm resolve for a moment. Hisproud soul rose above all the horrors of the scene, and remained calm inthe dignity of its earthly despair and eternal hopes. He knelt down by thestake and engaged in prayer:

"Oh, Father! give me strength to endure this trial by fire! Forsake me notin this hour of extremity, but send Thy ministering angels to strengthenand sustain my spirit, that it faint not with the consuming flesh! And, oh, God! protect Thy persecuted daughter, and save, oh, save her from the graspof the destroyer! Let not the wicked triumph! my God, let not the wickedtriumph! but shield, oh, shield the innocent! Thou art He who canst dowonders; make known Thy power in the rescue and salvation of the afflictedchild of misfortune from the hands of the spoiler! Not for myself, but forher, I implore Thee for deliverance! Oh, hear my prayer in her behalf, andsend help in the hour of need!"

Durant listened to this prayer in spite of himself; there was a somethingabout it which held him spell-bound, fascinated; and he forgot, for themoment, that his followers were awaiting his orders--everything, in fact, but the one scene before him, the man on his knees at the stake. And therewas another of those present no less deeply interested, though in adifferent way--Ellen, who was in agony at the sight before her. A thoughtentered her mind--a wild thought, which only despair could arouse. She sawthe fixed attention of her persecutor, and at the close of Hamilton'sfervent prayer, she sprung from the midst of her enemies, and ere theycomprehended her design, or had time to lift a hand to stay her progress, rushed through the flames, and fell on her knees by the side of her lover. In a moment they were in each others' arms, shedding tears on each others'bosoms. 

The spectators of this strange exhibition were struck dumb with wonder, asthey beheld this act of devoted heroism, and looked on in astonishment, then exchanged glances of bewilderment and consternation. A solemn pauseensued, as though all were paralyzed by such a deed of self-devotion todeath. 

"Tear away the fire! scatter the burning embers!" at length fell from thelips of Durant, as he aroused himself from the spell that was on him. "Quick! for your lives! for if they are not rescued, you shall all die!"

His command was obeyed with alacrity, and every one present worked asthough life really depended upon his exertions. 

Unobserved by any of the actors in this strange and exciting drama, a darkcloud had gathered and spread over the face of heaven, black as theheralding banner of an approaching hurricane, from whose bosom the luridlightning leaped forth, and the deep-toned thunder resounded. Presently thelarge drops of rain fell peltering on the leaves; then the first heavy dashof the fitful storm came down, and presently extinguished the fire, which, by this time, was pretty well scattered over the ground. Walter and Ellen, still locked in a close embrace, were rescued from the jaws of thedevouring element, and restored to a state of life more painful tocontemplate than the prospect of ending existence in each others' arms, even at the stake. 

But He who had interposed to save them, was now speaking through the stormin a voice which made the guilty Durant tremble with conscious-smittenfear. Flash followed flash in quick succession, and the jarring thunder, loud and terrible, broke, peal after peal, on the ear! Then the howlingwind, like ten thousand furies, came crashing and roaring through theforest, bearing whole trees on its driving wings, while others bent lowbefore the blasting swoop of its leveling might!

Cowering like a condemned criminal, the dark-deeded villain crept toward ashelter, dragging with him his captives. Suddenly a dazzling flood oflight, blinding and bewildering, enveloped the whole party, and, at thesame instant, an earth-shaking, sky-rending burst of sound stunned them allto prostration. It was some seconds before any one recovered. Then Hamiltonarose and lifted Ellen also. On looking around, they perceived a large oakhad been riven by the descending bolt at a short distance from them. Asplinter from the tree had struck Durant on the breast and temple, and helay bleeding and senseless upon the earth, but whether dead or alive, nonecould tell, as they had no time to certainly determine the point at such amoment. Hastily gathering him up, Ramsey and two of the Indians carried himto the cave, where they were all glad to congregate themselves during thecontinuance of the frightful tornado. 

Once sheltered, Walter and Ellen gazed out upon the raging tempest inbewildered amazement, not unmixed with awe. Never had they beheld theelements so fearfully agitated as now! Blacker than midnight were thepall-like clouds that "hung the heavens. " Loud as thunder was the roaringof the wind. Incessantly the vivid lightnings blazed forth in blindingflashes; while above all the mingled commotion of the storm strife, thebursting thunders boomed. Like feathers in the breeze, great limbs of treeswere wrenched from their places, and whirled, and twirled, and borne away. The tough oaks were twisted from their stems, or pulled up by the roots, while the smaller trees were snapped off like brittle reeds. 

"Terribly grand!" said Hamilton to his companion. 

"A fearful display of God's power!" responded Ellen. 

"A mere breath of his omnipotence--nothing more!"

For half an hour the tempest raged in violence, then its fury was spent, and soon after the clouds rolled away. During its continuance, the wildpassions of the savages were awed into quiet, and their hearts filled withother thoughts and emotions than those of vengeance and cruelty. They weresilent as the grave, and harmless as silent. 

The party now found time to look about them. Durant had manifested signs oflife, but was evidently badly hurt. Presently he opened his eyes, andstared about, but his glances were those of bewildered delirium. A highfever was burning in his veins; its fires penetrated to the head, and, reveling amid the brain, unhinged reason, and let loose the fierce passionsso long time grown strong and o'ermastering. 

Who shall paint the darkness of a corrupt heart, when for years the basestfeelings human nature is capable of experiencing have been nourished untilmore than mature? It was more dreadful to listen to the ravings of Durantthan to witness the fearful war of the elements. The tempest just over, wasnothing to the one that was struggling and out-breaking in his bosom. Weshall not attempt to record all the dark revelations he made of his ownevil thoughts and deeds, as we would spare the reader's feelings from theshock so revolting a record would produce. In his delirium he raved of thepast, and unbosomed his intentions for the future. First he seemed to beenacting over the tragic scenes of the day. 

"Tear away the fagots!" he cried. "I say, tear them away! Stupidblockheads! do you not know that I must have my revenge on the girl?Scatter the fagots! Gods! if she dies the heart's blood of every dog of youshall be spilled! I--I must, I _will_ have her alive!"

During the utterance of those words his voice, gestures, and expression ofcountenance were in keeping with the language itself, and truly horrible. Suddenly a change came over his countenance; the dark lines of passionretreated, and an expression of timidity or fear came in their place. Hemuttered incoherently for a time, and then, as if communing with himself, he spoke in a subdued voice of the last scene in his conscious life. A fewsentences were audible and connected, showing how his mind was affected bythe tempest:

"How I dread the storm! It tells me there is a God! that the thunder is hisvoice, and the fierce wind but the motion of his breath! And the lightning!oh, the lightning! how it looks into the heart and exposes all its secretsto the eye of Deity! What a flash was that! Come! to the cave! to thecave!"

With the concluding words his quiet ceased, and he struggled as if exertinghimself to do something very hastily. A moment more and a short, frightenedcry, escaped his lips, and he sunk back, as if dead. It was plain that hewas re-living and re-enacting the day, and its scenes; and in thiscondition he remained for some time; then his insanity took a wilder andwider range, recalling the past, and exposing the future of his life anddesigns. He raved and cajoled, commanded and persuaded by times; was nowquiet, and, anon, in a fever of excitement, or rage. After one of his quietmoods, he slowly aroused and addressed himself in this manner:

"That oath! it was a great mistake, this worst blunder I have made. Inspite of myself it will haunt me. And the curse! that awful curse! Gods!will it never cease ringing in my ears! night and day, sleeping and wakingit never leaves me! I see her now! How weird-like her prophetic looks! Howlike the sentence of doom are her words, as, with flashing eye andquivering lip, she says: 'As you have wilfully, voluntarily, and wickedlycalled it down upon your own head, may the curse of God rest upon you inthis world and the world to come. ' Gods and demons! if their should be 'aworld to come!'--How her words burn into my heart! and, worst of all, theyare proving a reality! I am accused! my 'plans of villainy' do fail, and I_am_ a 'vagabond upon the face of the earth!' But I'll not endure itlonger! I'll shake myself from these haunting fears! aye, and I'll provethem false! I'll do it if all the curses of the universe rise up before me!Avaunt, ye specters! I'll be a man despite your efforts to frighten me byyour grim presence!"

Again, in another strain, he broke forth with this development of hisinward thoughts. 

"Heigh, ho! I am on the track now, and nothing can save her! Oh, but I'llbe sweetly revenged! I'll teach the proud minx to insult a Durant! Won'tshe be humbled, though! ha! ha! ha! How she will struggle and beg formercy! But will I pity her? Yes, 'as the wolf the lamb!' Oh, if I butpossessed her now!"

And again:

"Proud as ever! Never mind, I'll bring her down! I'll wreathe that loftybrow with shame! I'll strike her through her lover! To save _him_ at thestake she'll yield! I'll revel in her charms, and then--then what? Ha! ha!As a reward for her condescensions, _I'll burn him alive_! Ha! ha! Fool, she'll be to think I'd let a _rival_ live, when _her_ heart was_his_!" * * *

"How pale she is! the charm works! she'll bend to my will at last. * * Notyet? Look at his agony, have you the heart to see him suffer so? Ah, howdearly you must love him, to stand by and see him burn to ashes when a wordfrom your lips would rescue him from the flames!" * * * * * * * *

"Let me see, I'll not suffer him to die so soon; perhaps a littlereflection will induce him to persuade her to yield. At all events I'll trythe experiment. Ho! Ramsey, cut him loose; we'll adjourn the fun to anotherday. "

Having thus given a few snatches of the revelations made by the villain inhis delirium, enough to show what were his intentions toward his prisoners, and the utter blackness of his heart, we will depict another phase of hismadness, in which he imagines the swift feet of retribution to be on histrack, while the future was uncurtained to his distempered gaze. 

"Coming! coming! coming! and there is no escape! * * Away! ye grinningdevils! out of my sight, ye imps of h--l! Begone! ye ghostly demons, forever pointing with your long fingers! what would you have me see?"

His eyes were wild with a horrible stare, as if fixed by the magic power ofsome ghastly sight, while large drops of perspiration oozed from everypore, and stood in cold beads upon his brow! In fixed horror he thusremained for some moments, then fell back and covered his eyes with hishands, as if to shut out the dreadful scene!

Then rousing again, he exclaimed in another key:

"No! no! no! not that! I'll not come to that! Alive, and food for crawlingworms! No! no! no! Then birds of prey feasting upon my flesh! Oh, God! thecurse! the curse!"

This last vision seemed to overpower him, and he lay moaning most piteouslyfor a length of time. Then the wilder phases of a distempered mind came on, and he again resumed his frenzied tone, manner, and language. 

"Begone! ye lying fiends, avaunt! I'll not believe your hissing tongues!'Tis false! all false! Back, or I'll smite you to the earth! Back! back!"

And he fought the air furiously, for a brief period, then sunk backexhausted on his pallet. A troubled half hour's sleep followed, from whichhe awoke much debilitated. With his waning strength, the delirium took amilder form. The vail of the future seemed still to be lifted, to give hima glimpse of coming events, but the scene that appeared was not dreadfullike the ones which had preceded it. 

"Happy at last, despite my oath, my vengeance unachieved! All my deep-laidschemes of no avail! Oh, Eliza! thou art indeed revenged! Thy worstpredictions are realized. "

The fever soon returned in violence, and once more his ravings weredreadful. 

"Ho, Ramsey! keep them safe, on your life, keep them safe! do you hear?Your life, if they escape! I'll not be thwarted in my wishes; I'll move allh--l but I'll be revenged! ay, I'll walk through fire, flood and storm togain my ends and work their ruin! They shall not escape my vengeance, Iswear it in the face of earth and heaven!"

But we will not dwell longer on this unpleasant picture of a wretched manexposing his own dark soul to the eyes of others. All the night long hecontinued to rave in this fever-crazed manner, Hamilton, and much of thetime Ellen, too, a witness of his madness. As morning drew near he fellinto a more tranquil slumber, and the violence of the fever seemed to havepassed. With the early dawn seizing a favorable moment, when all theirenemies were asleep, the lovers made their escape. Ramsey and the Indianswere so much occupied with Durant, they did not think of the prisoners asthey would have done under other circumstances, though they did not feeldesirous of seeing the deeds of the past day re-enacted. It was some timebefore they noticed the escape, and then no pursuit was instituted untilafter the morning meal was dispatched. 

Hamilton and Ellen made the best of their way down the Ohio, and early inthe evening had the good fortune to fall upon the camp of a party ofwhites, under the direction of Ellen's brother, who had busied himself dayand night to raise the force and go in quest of the captives, havingresolved never to cease his efforts until his sister was rescued, or herfate learned and her death avenged. 

The meeting was a happy one; and as the object of the expedition wasaccomplished, the party returned home, when there was a time of generalrejoicing. 

CONCLUSION. 

We have little more to say. As the reader will conclude without reading thefact, Walter and Ellen were married, according to their originalarrangements, and afterward lived in the enjoyment of that happiness whichlove alone can procure, and which can be found only at the domesticfireside where peace reigns; their descendants may still be found inKentucky and other western states. 

Durant recovered from his hurt, and lived for some years to plot moremischief, and fail in his designs. He at last quarreled with one of hissavage followers, and in a fit of anger, struck him a blow with his fist. The indignity was never forgotten or forgiven. The Indian vowed to berevenged, and he kept his oath; dogging the steps of his foe, he found anopportunity to inflict a wound, which felled his adversary to the earth. With proper attention he might have recovered, but his enemy left himdisabled and bound, to die by slow inches!

His wound, at first very painful, soon began to mortify, and he felt theworms in his still living body! Vultures came to feast upon him, ere thevital spark of existence had gone out within him, and he had not thestrength left to lift a hand, or speak a word in his own defense, thoughtheir long beaks were stretched over him and planted in his flesh and eyes!And when death at last came, and laid his icy fingers upon his heart, forthe final stilling of its disquiet and guilty throbbing, his failing senseswere suddenly and momentarily aroused, and the curdling blood sent againwith quickened impulse through his veins, as his dull ears were salutedwith the horrible sound of the howlings of wild beasts in the distance; andthe last things that his closing, almost sightless balls beheld were theglaring eyes of the monsters of the forest, as they gloated over theirprey!

The sight was enough to finish the work of dissolution, already advancednear to completion, and the sluggish blood rushed for the last time uponhis paralyzed heart with such chilling coldness and mastering power, thatit ceased to beat, and the wretch was dead!

Then a fight took place over his putrefying carcass, and the screech ofthe vulture, mingled with the angry growl of the wolf, as they contendedfor the remains of the man of crimes in their wild fury and ferocioushunger!

A few hours longer, and the flesh was all torn from his frame, and only aghostly, grinning skeleton was left of the once proud and vicious LouisDurant; and yet fresh beasts arriving upon the scene, disappointed in theiranticipated feast, howled a dismal requiem over his bones, which were left, without sepulture, to bleach in the winds and storms of heaven!

Such was the terrible end of the _villain_, while the _victims_ of his hateand malice, against whom he had plotted so often and so fiendishly, werehappy in the enjoyment of life's best blessings; and thus the story pointsits own moral. 

THE END