‘Who is your lady that you saw last night?’ questioned the wilful girl. ‘Oh, nobody—nothing at all. Nobody that I shall ever fall in love with, I promise you that.’ ‘Not fall in love? Where you go to-night?’ Monteagle smiled at this close question, for he felt a little caught. He was bound to Loretto when he met Maria. The girl turned and began to leave him. ‘Stop, Maria, tell me more about these pearls. Who is the gentleman who sent them to me?’ ‘Who is the lady you see last night and go to see to-night too?’ demanded she retreating. Monteagle pursued, when she quickened her pace and finally fled with the fleetness of a fawn. Not caring to be seen chasing a woman by several travellers, whom he had observed coming that way, Monteagle slackened his pace. Maria was soon out of sight, and Monteagle was besieged by a thousand ideas at once. ‘She tells me that this valuable gift came from a man—a wealthy nabob—and yet she inquires as closely into the state of my heart as if she was the agent of one of her own sex who had an interest in knowing whether I was in love with Julia Vandewater or not. At any rate, she has gone off in the belief that I have a lady in view—That I am in love with her, with whom I spent last night and to whom I am now going!—Perhaps—yes, perhaps, after all, this is a present from a lady, and that Maria was charged not to tell that fact unless she should discover that my heart was disengaged, and that believing it to be otherwise, she feigned that these pearls came from a rich old fellow who had nothing to do with his wealth but to send it about the country by the hands of ladies of pleasure begging young men to accept of it! No, no, that won’t do. This gift has come from a lady.’ He thought of the veiled female, supposed to be a nun, who brought Maria the note. ‘Might not she be the giver?’ ‘But no, her errand was to the girl, not me.’ A moment’s reflection taught him, that it would be improper to go with his valuable prize to the house whither he was bound, as Loretto might suppose, in case she discovered it that it was intended as a gift to her, and would experience a disappointment when informed that such was not its destiny. He turned on his steps to return to the house, and a moment afterwards heard quick footsteps behind him. He turned, at the same time placing his hand on his revolver; but the two men who now approached him seemed to be peaceably inclined. ‘A fine night, sir,’ said one of the strangers. ‘It is indeed,’ replied Monteagle. ‘Have you seen anything of a large brown goat, hereabouts, sir,’ continued the man who had first spoken.