"Curse him!" he said again, "is he to have all and I none? Would that fate were but kind enough to remove him out of my path!" "Do it yourself!" It seemed an almost audible suggestion. He started and glanced around with a shudder, half expecting to see the tempter. "No, no, I am not so bad as that!" he answered aloud. "I could never stain my hands with blood, but if the Indians should slay him in the woods, as they did Capt. Herrod, or if his horse should happen to stumble and he fall and break his neck, well, it would not grieve me very deeply, ha, ha! "I suppose the girl wouldn't have me even then," he continued with a gloomy scowl, "but I'd have undisturbed possession of--But nonsense! I must deal with things as they are." He continued his cogitations, but had not yet succeeded in arranging any definite plan when he arrived at his lodgings and dismounted, giving his horse in charge to Hans. However, the knowledge casually gained in the course of the evening, of Kenneth's intended departure early the next morning for the East, and with no companion but his negro servant, brought a sudden suggestion to his mind which filled him with fiendish delight. A letter from England, like Clendenin's received by that evening's mail, furnished a plausible pretext. Hans was summoned and given orders to make everything ready to leave Chillicothe at once. "Dish night, mynheer?" queried the man in astonishment. "Yes, this night; there is a moon and we can travel by her light. I have news from England and must return thither with all speed." "De horses pe not shtrong enough to go day and night, mynheer," remarked Hans, scratching his head and looking not over pleased; for he was loth to lose his night's rest. "That's my affair; you have nothing to do but obey orders," was the haughty rejoinder. Lyttleton knew that Nell was out of town, and now was glad that it had so happened, as he did not care to meet her again, yet felt that it would not look well for him to leave the place without a parting call on the family. He met Clendenin coming away, passed him with a cold bow, and joined the major who was still on the porch, its sole occupant as before. "What you, too, sir?" he exclaimed, when Lyttleton had explained the object of his call. "The doctor was in but now to say that he leaves unexpectedly in the early morning; but it seems that you are making even greater haste to forsake us. Coming back again, I hope." "Doubtful, my good sir, and I must leave my adieu to the ladies with you, regretting deeply that I could not deliver them in person," Lyttleton said, lying with a glibness that was the result of long practice.