ersation, Tyrrel--still as gay for a
moment, as when you used to chide me for my folly. So, now I have told
you all,--I have one question to ask on my part--one question--if I had
but breath to ask it--Is _he_ still alive?"

"He lives," answered Tyrrel, but in a tone so low, that nought but the
eager attention which Miss Mowbray paid could possibly have caught such
feeble sounds.

"Lives!" she exclaimed,--"lives!--he lives, and the blood on your hand
is not then indelibly imprinted--O Tyrrel, did you but know the joy
which this assurance gives to me!"

"Joy!" replied Tyrrel--"joy, that the wretch lives who has poisoned our
happiness for ever?--lives, perhaps, to claim you for his own?"

"Never, never shall he--dare he do so," replied Clara, wildly, "while
water can drown, while cords can strangle, steel pierce--while there is
a precipice on the hill, a pool in the river--never--never!"

"Be not thus agitated, my dearest Clara," said Tyrrel; "I spoke I know
not what--he lives indeed--but far distant, and, I trust, never again to
revisit Scotland."

He would have said more, but that, agitated with fear or passion, she
struck her horse impatiently with her riding-whip. The spirited animal,
thus stimulated and at the same time restrained, became intractable, and
reared so much, that Tyrrel, fearful of the consequences, and trusting
to Clara's skill as a horsewoman, thought he best consulted her safety
in letting go the rein. The animal instantly sprung forward on the
broken and hilly path at a very rapid pace, and was soon lost to
Tyrrel's anxious eyes.

As he stood pondering whether he ought not to follow Miss Mowbray
towards Shaws-Castle, in order to be satisfied that no accident had
befallen her on the road, he heard the tread of a horse's feet advancing
hastily in the same direction, leading from the hotel. Unwilling to be
observed at this moment, he stepped aside under shelter of the
underwood, and presently afterwards saw Mr. Mowbray of St. Ronan's,
followed by a groom, ride hastily past his lurking-place, and pursue the
same road which had been just taken by his sister. The presence of her
brother seemed to assure Miss Mowbray's safety, and so removed Tyrrel's
chief reason for following her. Involved in deep and melancholy
reflection upon what had passed, nearly satisfied that his longer
residence in Clara's vicinity could only add to her unhappiness and his
own, yet unable to tear himself from that neighbour