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330 “I’ll get her sisters here!” he suddenly exclaimed, the thought of them darting into his mind. “They will be the proper persons to explain to her the inexpediency of her remaining here. Poor girl! she does not think of it in her fatigue and grief.”

He did not give it a second thought, but snatched his hat, and went down himself to Dr. West’s with strides as long as Jan’s. Entering the general sitting-room without ceremony, his eyes fell upon a supper-table and Master Cheese; the latter regaling himself upon apple-puffs to his heart’s content.

“Where are the Miss Wests?” asked Lionel.

“Gone to a party,” responded the young gentleman, as soon as he could get his mouth sufficiently empty to speak.

“Where to?”

“To Heartburg, sir. It’s a ball at old Thingumtight’s, the doctor’s. They are gone off in grey gauze, with branches of white flowers hanging to their curls, and they call that mourning. The fly is to bring them back at two in the morning. They left these apple-puffs for me and Jan. Jan said he should not want any; he’d eat meat; so I have got his share and mine!”

Master Cheese appeared to be enjoying the shares, too. Lionel left him to it, and went thoughtfully back to Verner’s Pride.

the western and south-western portions of the United States the inhabitants possess certain peculiar characteristics, which, in all ages and in almost every country, have marked those living midway between savage and civilised life. This is more particularly the case with the hunters and trappers who follow their calling in the Far West, as it is termed; and whose virtues and whose vices alike are not those of the “dwellers in cities.” In them personal courage and endurance, fidelity to their word, and a certain rude simplicity of character are frequently found in conjunction with a total disregard for those laws by which society, in more settled communities, provides for its own security. Their code of morality is, in fact, their own: and, occasionally, as will be seen by the following narrative, may lead a man, who obeys its dictates, into the perpetration of a great crime, for the purpose of avoiding the commission of what, in comparison, might be termed a venial error.

About eight years ago I had occasion to travel through several of the Southern States, for the purpose of collecting various debts due to a large Boston dry-goods house, of which I was one of the clerks. While in Texas, I stopped one evening at a small town, called Jackson, near the Mexican frontier, and put up, for the night, at the only hotel the place could boast. I had just seated myself at supper, when the door opened, and a tall, strongly-built man entered the room. He was clothed in the usual hunter’s costume, viz., a tight-fitting buckskin hunting-shirt, with leggings and moccasins of the same material. A belt of undressed deerskin, buckled round his waist, supported a heavy Colt’s revolver on one side, while on the other was suspended a leather sheath, containing a bowie-knife of formidable dimensions. He placed the rifle he carried in his hand against the wall, and then proceeded to take off the belts which hung over his brawny shoulders, sustaining his shot-pouch and powder-horn, which were curiously wrought, and evidently the work of some Mexican artist. Having thus relieved himself, the stranger drew a stool up to the fire, and placing his muscular hands on his thighs, seemed to peer with his keen eyes into the crackling fire, which roared up the chimney.

As he had not saluted me when he entered, as is usual in that section of the country, I took no further notice of him; for I presumed his want of success in hunting had put him in an ill humour, and it was not improbable that if he discovered my gaze fixed pertinaciously upon him he might be disposed to fasten a quarrel upon me. I therefore directed my attention exclusively to the meal before me, but the knife and fork almost fell from my hands as his stentorian voice struck upon my ear; and, in spite of myself, a slight tremor stole through me as I heard the awful tone in which he spoke the last word.

“Landlord, give me some liquor—I have money!”

The landlord glanced at his guest, and hesitated for a moment, but the stranger raised his eyes; the effect was magical; in an instant a well-filled whisky-bottle and a tin tumbler were placed beside him.

“Landlord, hang that on the rifle; but stop, give me the knife first.”

And he handed the waistbelt, pistol, and scabbard to the host, whilst he thrust the knife in the bosom of his hunting-shirt. As the innkeeper was obeying the bidding of his strange visitor, the latter poured the tumbler full of whisky, and tossed it off at a draught.

“Landlord,” he said again, I“I [sic] want something to eat—I’ve money for that too.”

There was a deep tone in his voice, as he uttered these words, that disturbed me strangely.

An additional plate was placed on the table, and the stranger seated himself opposite to me. He had a fine face-a careless independence in it which I liked; but the courteous manner in which he said: “I hope I ain’t one too many here, stranger,” excited my surprise. I assured him that his company was agreeable to me rather than otherwise, as I disliked eating alone.

“Enough said,” answered he, “there’s my fist,” and we shook hands across the table.

His appetite was in proportion to his bulk, and we scarcely spoke again until after supper, when he commenced a conversation, from which I discovered him to be a man of unusual natural ability, although rough and uncultivated.

During our dialogue, I evidently made a favourable impression upon him, and, in return for my courtesy, he recounted many deer, wolf, and bear hunts, with such power that I was delighted. The conversation, however, after a time flagged, and I fell into a train of musing on the business which had led me to that part of the country. A gloom gradually settled over the face