fancy to my
horse?"

"Ah! monsieur, it was no fancy; but I will explain that at some other
time. Perhaps the necessity no longer exists."

"Take him, if you will. Another will serve my purpose."

"No, monsieur. Do you think I could rob you of what you esteem so
highly, and with such just reason, too? No, no! Keep the good Moro. I
do not wonder at your attachment to the noble brute."

"You say that you have a long journey to-night. Then take him for the
time."

"That offer I will freely accept, for indeed my own horse is somewhat
jaded. I have been two days in the saddle. Well, adieu!"

Seguin pressed my hand and walked away. I heard the "chinck, chinck" of
his spurs as he crossed the apartment, and the next moment the door
closed behind him.

I was alone, and lay listening to every sound that reached me from
without. In about half an hour after he had left me, I heard the
hoof-strokes of a horse, and saw the shadow of a horseman passing
outside the window. He had departed on his journey, doubtless on the
performance of some red duty connected with his fearful avocation!

I lay for a while harassed in mind, thinking of this strange man. Then
sweet voices interrupted my meditations; before me appeared lovely
faces, and the Scalp-hunter was forgotten.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

LOVE.

I would compress the history of the ten days following into as many
words. I would not weary you with the details of my love--a love that
in the space of a few hours became a passion deep and ardent.

I was young at the time; at just such an age as to be impressed by the
romantic incidents that surrounded me, and had thrown this beautiful
being in my way; at that age when the heart, unguarded by cold
calculations of the future, yields unresistingly to the electrical
impressions of love. I say electrical. I believe that at this age the
sympathies that spring up between heart and heart are purely of this
nature.

At a later period of life that power is dissipated and divided. Reason
rules it. We become conscious of the capability of transferring our
affections, for they have already broken faith; and we lose that sweet
confidence that comforted the loves of our youth. We are either
imperious or jealous, as the advantages appear in our favour or against
us. A gross alloy enters into the love of our middle life, sadly
detracting from the divinity of its character.

I might call that which I then felt my first r