“Is the doctor with you?” inquired one of them. “What doctor? Who is injured?” exclaimed James, rushing past them into the house. I followed him, trembling in every limb. Several persons were in the room we entered, but I saw but one—and what a sight was that? Stretched on a bed, lay a tall form motionless. The face was turned toward the wall, but the pale hands were white as the counterpane. With a cry of agony and grief, James threw himself on his knees by its side. I saw no more, for nature gave way, and I sunk on the door in a state of insensibility. * * * * * When restored to perfect consciousness, I found myself lying on a sofa in a small parlor. The window shutters were half closed to exclude the light. “Where am I?” I exclaimed, attempting to rise, but a gentle hand prevented me, and turning I saw a lady, advanced in life, but with a most benignant countenance, who had been watching by my couch. It was the mother of Bertha, the widow of an American officer. “Be composed, sir,” she said, “we have all suffered much anxiety on your account, and your friend Ernest would not leave the house until assured you were in no danger.” “Ernest!” I exclaimed, “is he alive? Oh, Heaven be praised!” “He is alive and well,” she replied, with some surprise; “but now I recollect that you and his brother were both shocked by supposing the wounded person was Ernest. It was the stranger who has so constantly annoyed us, and yet we regret he is hurt. He had only fainted from loss of blood when you entered the room, but has been shot in the leg, and probably will be lame through life.” It is impossible to describe the sudden and joyful change in my feelings. I thought not of the stranger, but of Ernest my friend, the brother of my Linda, restored to us safe and well. How the happiness of my overcharged heart struggled for utterance at my lips, but I could not speak it, and having listened almost breathlessly to the recital of the lady, now rose once more from the sofa. But again she stayed my steps. “Listen to me a moment longer,” she said. “Your friend Ernest after leaving the Grange last evening to meet you stopped here, and this delay prevented him from arriving at the stage-road until too late to see you, but he learned that you had proceeded on horseback toward his father’s residence, more than an hour before. Thick clouds shadowed the sky, and it was dark and late when he returned through the forest, when his attention was arrested by the groans of some person. Hastily alighting, and following the sounds, he discovered this man wounded, and having raised him with some difficulty, he placed him on the horse, and brought him here as the nearest house. But Ernest has since been arrested on suspicion of wounding him, although we all know he is innocent. His brother has gone with him and the officers of the law to the next town.”