‘Say no more upon that painful subject, my dearest,’ she ejaculated; ‘let it from this joyful moment be for ever buried in oblivion.’ ‘It shall, it shall, my sweetest,’ replied Monteagle; ‘but oh, what a debt of gratitude do I owe to your generous preserver, Jenkins. Would that I could see him, that I might to himself express the power of my feelings. Nothing can ever sufficiently reward that man for the inestimable service he has rendered me.’ ‘I need not assure you,’ rejoined Inez, ‘that I most warmly concur in your feelings; and I trust that at some future period, Jenkins may be able to visit us, and receive the demonstrations of our mutual gratitude, and, moreover, be persuaded to quit the life he is at present leading.’ ‘Pity it is that he should, by some cursed fatality urging him on to crime, be driven from it,’ observed Monteagle; ‘but I dare say that his offences have never been so heinous as to exclude him from all hope of earthly pardon.’ ‘No, I cannot believe that they have,’ replied Inez; ‘but he is so much attached to his present wild life of freedom, and his reckless associates, that I am doubtful whether he will ever be induced to abandon them.’ ‘My influence and exertions to induce him to do so, shall not be wanting,’ said Monteagle. ‘Still I am sorry that he should have changed his first determination, namely, to deliver the wretch Blodget into the hands of justice. While I know that villain to be living and still at large, my mind cannot be entirely at rest, for, however watchful and vigilant we may be, after what we have experienced from his villainous artifices, have we not reason to fear that he will devise some means of further annoying us, and gratifying his demonical revenge?’ ‘Do not, I beg of you, my love,’ said our heroine, ‘harass your mind by apprehensions.’ ‘Heaven grant that your surmises may prove correct, Inez,’ observed Monteagle; ‘but I candidly own that I cannot entirely divest my mind of the fears which I have described; and should anything happen again to you, my love, all my manly fortitude would entirely forsake me, and I should never be able to survive the shock!’ ‘Pray, Monteagle,’ urged Inez, ‘if you would not make me miserable, endeavor, struggle to banish such gloomy imaginings from your bosom, and trust to the goodness of Providence which has hitherto so mercifully preserved us, when the darkest snares of villainy sought to ruin and destroy us.’ ‘For your sake, my own love,’ replied Monteagle, once more affectionately and passionately kissing her cheek, ‘I will endeavor to do so; still you surely will not blame me for not placing too much confidence in our security, which might prevent me from being watchful and wary to defeat any base plans that might be devised against our future peace?’