cene. The old lady was
endeavoring, though with a feebleness that grew more apparent with every
breath, to articulate something, to which she seemed to attach much
importance, in the ears of the kneeling girl, who, with breathless
attention, seemed desirous of making it out, but in vain; and,
signifying by her countenance the disappointment which she felt, the
speaker, with something like anger, shook her skinny finger feebly in
her face, and the broken and incoherent words, with rapid effort but
like success, endeavored to find their way through the half-closed
aperture between her teeth. The tears fell fast and full from the eyes
of the kneeling girl, who neither sobbed nor spoke, but, with continued
and yet despairing attention, endeavored earnestly to catch the few
words of one who was on the eve of departure, and the words of whom, at
such a moment, almost invariably acquire a value never attached to them
before: as the sounds of a harp, when the chords are breaking, are said
to articulate a sweet sorrow, as if in mourning for their own fate.

The outlaw, all this while, stood apart and in silence. Although perhaps
but little impressed with the native solemnity of the scene before him,
he was not so ignorant of what was due to humanity, and not so unfeeling
in reference to the parties here interested, as to seek to disturb its
progress or propriety with tone, look, or gesture, which might make
either of them regret his presence. Becoming impatient, however, of a
colloquy which, as he saw that it had not its use, and was only
productive of mortification to one of the parties, he thought only
prudent to terminate, he advanced toward them; and his tread, for the
first time, warned them of his presence.

With an effort which seemed supernatural, the dying woman raised herself
with a sudden start in the bed, and her eyes glared upon him with a
threatening horror, and her lips parting, disclosed the broken and
decayed teeth beneath, ineffectually gnashing, while her long, skinny
fingers warned him away. All this time she appeared to speak, but the
words were unarticulated, though, from the expression of every feature,
it was evident that indignation and reproach made up the entire amount
of everything she had to express. The outlaw was not easily influenced
by anger so impotent as this; and, from his manner of receiving it, it
appeared that he had been for some time accustomed to a reception of a
like kind from the same