"_Diablezot!_ none in the world," said the man of many coats, changing character with the facility of an 'old stager.'--The sudden transformation operated even more effectually than the voice of the detested Gilbert, in frightening Miss Falconer into silence. "And harkee, Mr. Lieutenant Hawk," he went on, with great equanimity, "stick to your own prizes,--follow your own Blowselinda." "Rogue, do you resist me?--Come, sir, you have been drinking!" "Drinking in your teeth!" said Sterling, in whom 'the good familiar creature' had the effect of rather sharpening than changing any of his characteristics. "'Back and syde, go bare, go bare,'" as old Gummer Gurton says: 'Now let them drynke till they nod and winke, Even as good felowes shoulde doe; They shall not mysse to have the blisse Good ale doth bringe men to.' "But 'this is my right hand, and this is my left'; what more would you have? Do you think I am to be kept on your cursed Adam's ale of the mountains for ever? 'Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?' And finally, Mr. Lieutenant Chicken-hawk, dost thou opine thou shalt have thy bottle and thy wench, and I"---- "In a word, scoundrel," said Hyland, clapping a pistol to his head, and thus bringing the madman to his senses, "unhand the lady, or I will blow your brains out." "Zounds, sir,"---- "No words, sir. Get you to the horses; and thank your stars I do not report your villanous conduct to the Captain." The volunteer, who had indeed made freer with one item of the bridal cheer than became a man, who, as he had hinted, had been confined to a beverage of the mountain brook, since his association with the band, grumbled a drunken oath or two betwixt his teeth, and immediately slunk away, leaving his captive to be disposed of by the subaltern. "You are free, Miss Falconer," said the young man, speaking with a smothered voice. "The evil you have done me I forgive you; the cruelty you meditated and practised against another, I leave to be judged by heaven and your own conscience.--False friend! treacherous kinswoman! your victim is beyond the reach of your inhumanity." "You are a villain, sir!" cried Harriet, exasperated out of her fear,--"the worst of villains,--an ungrateful one!"--