"You and your family, Miss Falkland," replied Manners, "have taught me how soon one can feel the deepest interest and friendship for those who deserve it; but in regard to De Vaux, I really see no cause for apprehension." "Nay, nay, Colonel Manners," said Isadore, "I shall not think you have much regard for me if you try to sooth me by false hopes respecting my cousin. There is an anxiety in your look, which could not be there if there were no cause for alarm." "Indeed, Miss Falkland," he replied, with a smile which was not of the gayest character in the world--"indeed, I have the deepest regard for you, and would not deceive you for a moment. De Vaux's absence is strange, undoubtedly. His never having gone to bed is strange. But in regard to these shots which have been heard--as the man himself believed till your old butler infected him with his own miraculous mood--they have been undoubtedly fired by poachers; and I see not the slightest reason for believing that they are in any way connected with your cousin's absence." There had been a degree of earnestness in Manners's profession of regard that had called a slight glow into Isadore's cheek, and made her heart beat a little quicker, though Heaven knows he had not the slightest thought of making her heart beat with any but its ordinary pulse, and Isadore herself never suspected that he had. It was only one of those slight passing emotions which sometimes move the heart without our well knowing why, like the light ripple that will occasionally dimple the surface of a still, sheltered water from some breath of air too soft and gentle to be felt by those who watch it from the banks. Whatever caused the glow, it was all gone in an instant; and she answered, "Perhaps what makes us all the more uneasy is, that none of us can forget that my uncle, Marian's father, was murdered many years ago in this neighbourhood; and the first news of his death came upon mamma by surprise, in the same way that this has done upon poor Marian." "I trust in Heaven, and believe most firmly, Miss Falkland, that you will find no further resemblance between the fate of your cousin and that of his uncle," replied Colonel Manners: "but, at all events, I will lose no time and spare no exertion in endeavouring to satisfy you as to his fate; and, if it should cost me my life, I will discover him before I give up the search." "Nay, nay, you must take care of your life," said Isadore; "it must doubtless be valuable to many, and therefore must not be risked unadvisedly." "It is valuable to none that I know of, Miss Falkland," said Manners, with a melancholy smile, "and to myself least of all; but, nevertheless, I never trifle with it, looking upon it but as a loan from that great Being who will demand it again when he himself thinks fit. But I anticipate no danger from my visit to the gipsies."