“I don't care a fig,” said he, “whether this Woodward has property or not. He is a gentleman, respectably connected, of accomplished manners, handsome in person, and if he has no fortune, why you have; and I think the best thing you can do is to accept him without hesitation. The comical rascal,” said he, laughing heartily, “took me in so completely during our first interview, that he became a favorite with me.” “I think well of him,” replied his firm-minded niece; “and even I admit that I love him, as far as a girl of such a cold constitution as mine may; but I tell you, uncle, that if I discovered a taint of vice or want of principle in his character, I could fling him off with contempt.” “I wish to heaven,” replied the uncle, rather nettled, “that we could have up one of the twelve apostles. I dare say some of them, if they were disposed to marry, might come up to your mark.” “Well, uncle, at all events I like him sufficiently to consent that he should become my husband.” “Well, and is not that enough; bless my heart, could you wish to go beyond it?” In the meantime, very important matters were proceeding, which bore strongly upon Woodward's destiny. Greatrakes had collected--aided, of course, by Barney Casey, who was the principal, but not the sole, evidence against him--such a series of facts, as, he felt, justified him in receiving informations against him. At this crisis a discovery was made in connection with the Haunted House, which was privately, through Casey, communicated to Greatrakes, who called a meeting of the neighboring magistrates upon it. This he did by writing to them privately to meet him on a particular day at his little inn in Rathfillan. For obvious reasons, and out of consideration to his feelings, Mr. Lindsay's name was omitted. At all events the night preceding the day of Woodward's marriage with Miss Riddle had arrived, but two circumstances occurred on that evening and on that night which not only frustrated all his designs upon Miss Riddle, or rather upon her uncle's property, but--however, we shall not anticipate. It was late in the evening when Miss Riddle was told by a servant that a young man, handsome and of fine proportions, wished to see her for a few minutes. “Not that I would recommend you to see him,” said the serving-woman who delivered the message. “He is, to be sure, very handsome; but, then, he is one of those wild people, and armed with a great mid-dogue or dagger, and God knows what his object may be--maybe to take your life. As sure as I live he is a tory.” “That may be,” replied Miss Riddle; “but I know, by your description of him, that he is the individual to whose generous spirit I and my dear uncle owe our lives: let him be shown in at once to the front parlor.” In a few minutes she entered, and found Shawn before her.