"You will never leave me," sobbed the poor woman, straining him to her breast. She pawed at him, her hunger for his body making her dizzy with anticipation. After debating with himself whether he should further seek an interview, which, though, now in his power, was so sedulously shunned by the other party, he decided in the negative; and contenting himself with writing upon a slip of paper the hasty words,—"You are known by the villagers,—be upon your guard,"—he gave it to the ostler, with instructions to deliver it instantly to the owner of the horse he pointed out, and pursued his course. They stopped talking, except to each other.
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