Rocke was re-established in her cottage.

And the next week, having equally divided their little capital, the
mother and son parted--Traverse, by her express desire, keeping to his
original plan, set out for the far West.

CHAPTER II.

OLD HURRICANE STORMS.

"At this sir knight flamed up with ire!
His great chest heaved! his eyes flashed fire.
The crimson that suffused his face
To deepest purple now gave place."

Who can describe the frenzy of Old Hurricane upon discovering the fraud
that had been practised upon him by Black Donald?

It was told him the next morning in his tent, at his breakfast table,
in the presence of his assembled family, by the Rev Mr. Goodwin.

Upon first hearing it, he was incapable of anything but blank staring,
until it seemed as though his eyes must start from their sockets!

Then his passion, "not loud but deep," found utterance only in emphatic
thumps of his walking stick upon the ground!

Then, as the huge emotion worked upward, it broke out in grunts, groans
and inarticulate exclamations!

Finally it burst forth as follows:

"Ugh! ugh! ugh! Fool! dolt! blockhead! Brute that I've been! I wish
somebody would punch my wooden head! I didn't think the demon himself
could have deceived me so! Ugh! Nobody but the demon could have done
it! and he is the demon! The very demon himself! He does not
disguise--he transforms himself! Ugh! ugh! ugh! that I should have been
such a donkey!"

"Sir, compose yourself! We are all liable to suffer deception," said
Mr. Goodwin.

"Sir," broke forth Old Hurricane, in fury, "that wretch has eaten at my
table! Has drunk wine with me!! Has slept in my bed!!! Ugh! ugh!!
ugh!!!"

"Believing him to be what he seemed, sir, you extended to him the
rights of hospitality; you have nothing to blame yourself with!"

"Demmy, sir, I did more than that! I've coddled him up with negusses!
I've pampered him up with possets and put him to sleep in my own bed!
Yes, sir--and more! Look there at Mrs. Condiment, sir! The way in which
she worshiped that villain was a sight to behold!" said Old Hurricane,
jumping up and stamping around the tent in fury.

"Oh, Mr. Goodwin, sir, how could I help it when I thought he was such a
precious saint?" whimpered the old lady.

"Yes, sir! when 'his reverence' would be tired with delivering a
long-winded mid-day discourse, Mrs. Condiment, sir, would take him into
her own tent--make him lie down on h