Lester Vane was livid with passion. He was obliged to wipe the froth from his mouth. Yet, by no outward extravagance of manner did he betray the emotions seething within his breast. His first impulse was to follow, and commit some act of violence upon his aggressor; his second, to act as though he had come in collision with some low, vulgar personage. As soon, therefore, as he was released, he shook his wrist, apparently to remove from it visible marks of a dirty hand; he smoothed the wrinkled evidences of the tight grip which had held him, and walked to the pier-glass, to arrange his attire, should it have been disarranged in the little passage which had just taken place. He was acting. He believed the eye of the “pin-maker” to be upon him; it was not. The performance was therefore, in this instance, thrown away. The glass told him that his lips were parched, and as white as his face. He bit them sharply to redden them. “It would not be difficult to incite that fellow to go out with me,” he muttered. “I could put a bullet in his heart at fourteen paces, to a dead certainty.” He paused for a moment, reflectively; then added--“Pshaw! it would not do to go out with him; I should raise him--insulting vagabond--to my level. No; I’ll ruin him here, and that promptly. The girl is mine! thank the stars! that is settled. It is very clear that Mires bears towards him a mortal hatred. Together we will get up a little plot to blast him in the favour of Wilton; and my skill in exercising an influence over a woman is mean indeed, if I cannot make the simple, single-minded, pretty Flora despise him. Hum! let me see. I will seek out Mires at once, and with his aid fling the scoundrel a harder back-fall than ever he has sustained in his life. When he is disposed of, I must turn my attention to my friend Mires. I don’t like that fellow’s visage. I don’t like his scowl. I must be careful how I handle him; but as for my friend, the pin-maker,’” he concluded with gnashing teeth, “he shall be tossed into a horse-pond before he leaves this, with the pretty Flora as a spectator, looking on and enjoying the sport.” He cast a glance towards the terrace, but did not observe the object of his spite and envy; he then quitted the room, and proceeded to that of Colonel Mires, where a servant had informed him that he would find him. He tapped lightly at the door, and entered the chamber. He beheld Colonel Mires leaning forward upon the edge of his chamber-window; yet in such a mariner as to avoid observation, and that he was gazing eagerly down upon the terrace beneath.