"Then why will she not be mine now?" asked Michael. "Why will she not go with me to London; there to be wed, and live together in happiness? Shall it not be so, dear Mercy? Alone in the great town, I shall always be thinking of Mercy--be thinking that she may be listening to Edward Owen, whom he has often thrown for her sake----" "And shalt throw him again," interrupted a manly voice. "Shalt throw him again, or take a fall thyself." The individual whom Michael had named stood before the astonished pair. Sinson sprang to his feet. Was it the duskiness of the evening, or passion, that made his face so dark? "Owen," he said, in a fierce whisper, "thou wert best stand off now, or mayst get more than a fall." "Come on!" cried his antagonist, without attempting to disguise his anger. "Come on, villain! I'm ready for you." Fortunately perhaps for Michael, who was not in a mood to fight or wrestle fairly, Mercy interposed. "Hoity-toity!" she cried; "pray, Master Edward, where did you learn to give such names to your betters? And where did you learn to follow honest people's steps, and watch them? And think you, my--do you hear?--my Michael is to fight with such as you? Go home, and learn manners." "Oh, Mercy!" cried Owen, "you know not what you say. You know not what he means. But my part is done. Remember, Edward Owen's is not the only heart you'll break. And so, good-night." He turned and walked steadily away. Michael endeavoured to resume the thread of his previous discourse. But his listener's mood was entirely changed. "Saucy fellow!" she cried, laughing and looking after Owen; "he's a rare one to come and rate me. But do you know, Mr. Michael, I believe he's a better man than you. There, that will do. To London to be married! No, Mr. Michael, not quite so far, if you please. Oh, yes, of course. D'ye think I like fighting? There. Good-night, Mr. Michael. No. If you follow me, I shall call him back." She disengaged herself from her suitor, and tripped lightly through the gloom in the footsteps of Owen. Michael watched her retreating form with a scowl darker even than that with which he rose to meet the intruder upon his courtship. "Shalt rue the day"--he muttered, "shalt rue the day that saw thee cross my wooing. A better man than me, did she say? Look to thyself, Master Edward Owen." With a heaving breast and an irregular gait, Sinson paced to and fro for some time along the edge of the cliff, and then turned moodily to Wilderness Lodge. The next day he departed on his way to London. CHAPTER VII. "Il y a dans un mariage malheureux une force qui dépasse toutes les autres peines de ce monde." MADAME DE STAËL.