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He tries to persuade himself that there is nothing strange or uncommon in calling upon Wednesday to inquire with anxious solicitude about the health of a young woman whom he had seen happy and robust on Tuesday. But the trial is not successful, and he is almost on the point of flinging up the argument and going home again, when his eye lights upon a fern small but rare, and very beautiful, that growing on a high rock far above him, overhangs the stream. The Rodneys are, for the most part, in the library, the room dearest to them. Mona is telling Doatie's fortune on cards, Geoffrey and Nicholas are discussing the merits and demerits of a new mare, Lady Rodney in still struggling with the crimson sock,—when the door is opened, and Nolly entering adds himself to the group. "I was thinking about this impending lawsuit," he stammers, uneasily. "You know of it, of course? Yet why should I be blamed?".
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"I do guess it," she answers, slowly. "Well, kill us both, if it must be so." She lays her arms round Rodney's neck as she speaks, even before he can imagine her meaning, and hides her face on his breast. "Your husband called me 'thief.' I have not forgotten that," replies he, gloomily, the dark blood of his mother's race rushing to his cheek. "I shall remember that insult to my dying day. And let him remember this, that if ever I meet him again, alone, and face to face, I shall kill him for that word only." The man did not answer. Then the Raven rubbed some medicine on his eyes and said, "Look!" The man looked and saw the camp. It was near. He saw the people; he saw the smoke rising from the lodges; he saw the painting on some of the lodges. His face is slightly flushed, his whole manner full of importance. He advances to where the two girls are sitting, and stops opposite Mona..
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