to his request; and, turning back into the little bay, that
formed the embouchure of the path, I pulled up under the shadow of the
trees.

At this point I was not ten paces from the hunter, and could see him;
but a little clump of white magnolias prevented me from seeing the
girl--at the same time that it hid both myself and horse from her sight.
The chirrup of the cicadas alone hindered me from hearing all of what
was said; but many words reached my ear, and with sufficient
distinctness, to give me a clue to the subject of the promised
revelation. Delicacy would have prompted me to retire a little farther
off; but the singular caution I had received from my companion,
prevented me from obeying its impulse.

I could make out that a certain Marian was the subject of the
conversation; and then more distinctively, that it was Marian Holt.
Just as I expected, the daughter of my squatter: that other and older
one, of whom mention had been already made. This part of the revelation
was easily understood: since I was already better than half prepared for
it. Equally easy of comprehension was the fact, that this Marian was
the sweetheart of my travelling companion--_had been_, I should rather
say; for, from what followed, I could gather that she was no longer in
the neighbourhood; that some months before she had left it, or been
carried away--spirited off in some mysterious manner, leaving no traces
of the why or whither she had gone. Nearly all this I had conjectured
before: since the young hunter had half revealed it to me by his manner,
if not by words. Now, however, a point or two was added to my previous
information relating to the fair Marian. _She was married_. Married--
and to some odd sort of man, of whom the Indian appeared to speak
slightingly. His name I could make out to be Steevens, or Steebins, or
something of the sort--not very intelligible by the Indian's mode of
pronouncing it--and, furthermore, that he had been a schoolmaster in
Swampville.

During the progress of the dialogue, I had my eye fixed on the young
hunter. I could perceive that the announcement of the marriage was
quite new to him; and its effect was as that of a sudden blow. Of
course, equally unknown to him had been the name of the husband; though
from the exclamatory phrase that followed, he had no doubt had his
conjectures.

"O God!" he exclaimed, "I thort so--the very man to a' done it. Lord
ha' mercy on her!" All this was utt