"Durn the girl!" muttered he, as a black shadow swept across his wrinkled brow; "she's played fool, an' refused him! Looks as ef she'd sassed him! Never mind, Alf Brandon, I'll make it all right for you. This chile ain't a gwine to let that fine plantashin o' your's slip through his fingers--not ef he know it. You shall hev the gurl, and she you, ef I hev myself to drag her up to the haltar. So, then, my Lena, lass, when I've done here I'm a gwine to read you a lecture." If the abrupt departure of Brandon had brought anger into the eyes of Lena Rook, there was yet another pair watching it, that became suffused with joy. They were the eyes of Pierre Robideau. After parting from that sweetheart so long separated from him, the young man had recrossed the creek; and, as he had intended, kept on through the woods towards the stand where he had left his horse. Before going far, the thought occurred to him that he might as well have a look at the quondam squatter, and see if he, too, was changed like everything else. It was only to place himself in the ambush that had already proved so serviceable to his purposes, and stay there till Jerry should show himself! Knowing that the porches of a backwood's dwelling usually supplies the place of sitting-room, he did not anticipate any severe trial of patience. It was not the gratification of mere curiosity that tempted him to return. He had other reasons that rendered him desirous to look upon his host of former days; at the same time that he was equally desirous not to let that host see him. Nor was it exactly a desire that counselled him to this act; but a sort of involuntary impulse, such as the bird feels to approach the serpent that would destroy it. Pierre Robideau had returned from California, better informed about the doings of Jerry Rook than he had been on going out there. It was the old hunter who had induced him to take that distant journey. He had counselled, almost compelled, him to it, by a false story that his father had gone there before him, and had entrusted Jerry to send him after in all haste. For this purpose, his former host had furnished the outfit and directions, and had even seen him some distance on his way. As already stated the unsuspicious youth, before starting, knew nothing of what had occurred that night in the glade--not even that while he was himself hanging there, his father had been so near him! The story of the lynching had been kept from him previous to his departure, Jerry Rook alone having access to him, and carefully guarding against all other approach. It was only after his arrival in California, and failing to find his father at the appointed place, that he had heard of the tragedy on Caney Creek, and who had been its victim. The tale had got among the gold diggers, brought out by some new arrivals from Little Rock.