Carlos and the stranger paused, regarding each other with the quick calculation of antagonists measuring their opponents’ strength.

“You killed my uncle,” said Carlos, in a low tone.

“Your uncle! No—you killed him!”

“I?”

“Yes; you’re the only one that’s been here to-night. Nobody has seen me in or near Dalton.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s lucky that you did happen along here, for Ithink Ican fasten the deed on you. Stop! Don’t move nor speak aloud.”

Carlos had started to leave the spot, but the long knife was presented at his breast in a manner that threatened instant death if he stirred.

“Great Heaven! who are you and why did you kill him?”

“Silence!” was the reply, given in a fierce whisper, and accompanied by a terrible oath. “Don’t repeat that. Isay you killed him. And here’s the evidence of it.”

He wiped the dagger, which was still bloody, on Carlos’ coat and vest, leaving great red stains.

“What is that for?” asked Carlos.

“You’ll find out when the spots are discovered. They’ll be pretty bad evidence against you. Ha! that makes you wince. But there is one thing more. Ihave been watching you, and Iwant that piece of paper you took from the old man’s hand. Fork it over.”

“What do you want of it?” asked Carlos.

“It belongs to this letter, and the letter is useless without it,” said the man, drawing a white paper partially from his pocket. “Come, give it up, and we will both leave this place quietly.”

But Carlos, seeing that the villain was off his guard for an instant, darted forward with the quickness of lightning and dealt him a powerful blow between the eyes.

The effect might have been serious had not the man been protected by his mask. As it was, it blinded him for a moment, and caused him to drop his dagger.

Carlos stooped to pick it up, but his antagonist recovered quicker than he had expected. He felt a blow on the side of the head that sent him reeling for a distance of two or three yards, and then he fell to the ground. The man was after him, but he was on his feet in an instant, and the two closed.

The man was large, and possessed great muscular strength. Carlos though smaller in stature, had well-developed muscles, and was, moreover, lithe and active. His antagonist soon discovered this, and found that his work was not so easy as he had anticipated.

They struggled and rolled over on the grass, each striving to obtain an advantage over the other. They seemed to be equally matched. But Carlos soon saw that in endurance he would fail. He felt his strength departing from him while the ruffian seemed to be fresh and unwearied. He must end the fight soon, or be beaten.

These thoughts passed rapidly through his mind, and at that instant he saw his opportunity. He suddenly ceased his efforts, and relaxed his struggles, throwing his antagonist off guard for a moment. Then he doubled up quickly, bringing his knees to his breast, and letting his heels fly out violently against his adversary’s stomach.

This mode of proceeding was entirely unexpected. The villain rolled over and uttered a deep grunt.

Carlos was free. He sprang to his feet and fled. He was instantly pursued, however, and if he had not been fleet of foot, would have been overtaken. He ran to the fence, cleared it with a bound, and then went directly to his horse and buggy.

He was almost to the carriage, the ruffian in hot pursuit. He saw that he would not have time to untie the horse, and so, running, he took out his pocket knife and opened the blade. When he came up to the horse he cut the halter, leaving it dangling to the stump.

Then he sprang into the buggy, applied the whip vigorously, and drove rapidly down the road.

Near by was a clump of trees, in the shade of which he saw a horse standing, saddled. Wondering at this, he still drove on, but looked back.

When on the brow of a little hillock he saw his pursuer stop and untie the horse.

“Ha!” thought Carlos, “he is coming after me on horseback. His horse may be fleeter than mine, and in that case he’ll surely overtake me. Ah, here’s a chance to circumvent him!”

He had come to a narrow street branching off from the main road, and into this he turned. As he was about a quarter of a mile ahead, and it was rapidly growing cloudy, he could neither be seen nor heard.

He urged his horse to a quicker rate of speed, and flew along the road blindly, recklessly. At first he passed farm dwellings frequently, and in one or two of them dim lights were burning. Dogs ran out to the gates and barked as he sped by, alarmed at the unusual noise. Again and again he lashed his horse, until the beast was covered with foam.

It now began to grow dark rapidly. Clouds shut out the stars from view, and thunder rumbled in the heavens, mingled with flashes of lightning. Then the rain began to fall in large drops.

Carlos was in a state bordering on delirium. The shock of coming so unexpectedly on the murdered body of his uncle would have been too much for the nerves of a much stronger man than he. The threat of the murderer of fastening the crime on him had filled him with apprehension. Then came the struggle, the pursuit, and the escape; all these following one another, produced on him a terrible state of excitement.

Not until he had driven four or five miles did he once halt or slacken his speed, or reflect that he was beyond the reach of his pursuer. By that time the rain was falling in torrents, loud peals of thunder rent the air, and vivid flashes of lightning came in quick succession.

The rain falling on his heated brow had the effect of cooling his excitement somewhat, and he began to reflect. He stopped urging his horse, and the poor beast dropped into a walk, enjoying the shower falling on his steaming flanks.

Carlos endeavored to look around him, but it was pitch-dark. Where was he? How far from Dalton? How near any human habitation? He knew not. Then he thought:

“Why this flight? Iam guilty of nothing. My pursuer is off my track. Ishould be pursuing him, not he me. Where has he gone? Why did he kill my uncle?” Carlos shuddered as he thought of the body leaning over the table, and the pool of blood on the floor. “Imust quickly return to Dalton, or in truth Imay be suspected. The villain wiped his dagger on my coat, but Iapprehend the rain has washed it all off. Besides, Icould have no motive, and nobody saw me near the house. Imust arouse the officers, and the murderer must be found.”

Alas! that these thoughts had come so late!

He then stopped the horse and began to consider the best mode of proceeding. He was in a lonely, unknown road, and finally decided to let the horse take his own course. So, dropping the lines, he commanded him to go forward.

The animal obeyed, stepping slowly and cautiously, his feet splashing and sinking deep in the mud at every step, and drawing out with difficulty.

The rain now was falling with less violence, and the thunder and lightning were not so frequent. Carlos was wet through to the skin, and the water ran from each side of his horse in little streams. Both animal and man were chilled and shivering. They plodded on slowly through the darkness, which was so dense as to seem almost like a material substance. Carlos gave himself up to a gloomy despondency, for, although innocent, he had a foreboding that the events of the night would bring evil and misfortune to him.

Suddenly the horse altered his course and turned quickly to the right. As he proceeded, the hub of one of the buggy wheels came in contact with some object—not with such force, however, as to stop the vehicle; and in a moment Carlos no longer felt the rain beating down upon him, but heard it over him, striking some intervening object. They were under a shelter. The horse had turned into a farm-yard and walked under a shed. He stood still, evidently determined to postpone the remainder of his journey until an improvement in the weather should take place.

This was a new and vexatious phase of affairs, and Carlos was confronted with the prospect of remaining in his strange quarters until daybreak.

He had not, up to this moment, heard a sniffing, smelling noise, which came from a large watch-dog, who had been walking around the buggy silently and regarding the new arrival with suspicion. The darkness had prevented him from seeing and the rain from hearing the animal. But now, as he was about to step from the buggy to tie the horse and make things secure for the night, a low growling arrested him. He stopped and listened, and knew that a large dog was in close proximity.

He leaped to the ground notwithstanding, and instantly the growls deepened and a shaggy body sprang against his breast. The dog had aimed for his throat, but seized his coat-collar instead.

Carlos did not lose his presence of mind, but seized the brute suddenly around the lower jaw, holding it with a vise-like grip. There was all the energy of a life-struggle in his grasp, and so tightly was his jaw held that the dog could not bring his teeth together. He was a large, heavy animal, and he bore Carlos to the ground. There they lay, and struggled and floundered, the dog uttering howls of rage, but Carlos never once relinquished his grasp.

The noise aroused the inmates of the house, which was near by. Soon a voice was heard:

“Tige! Tige! what’s the matter out there?”

It was a man who spoke.

“Help! for God’s sake!” cried Carlos.

“Who are you?” asked the voice.

“Call the dog off!” cried Carlos. “My strength is nearly gone!”

The man advanced, carrying a lantern, and peering cautiously ahead of him. He seemed in no hurry to relieve Carlos from his unpleasant position, but looked around as if to assure himself that no one else was about. Having become satisfied on this point, he exclaimed:

“There, Tige, get off. Get off, Isay!” giving him a savage kick in the side.

Carlos let go his hold, and the dog, giving a short yelp, ran under the buggy, and seated himself on his haunches, glaring out at them with hungry eyes.

Carlos sank back on the ground and fainted.

“Well, who be you, anyhow?” asked the man.

Receiving no reply, he bent over the prostrate body, and, seeing that it was unconscious, he said:

“I’ll call Kit. Here—go into the house, you hound!”

The dog slunk on ahead of his master, peering backward, first one side, and then the other, with wicked eyes. On arriving at the door, the man roared:

“Kit! Oh, here you are. Ishould have thought the infernal noise would ha’ ’woke you.”

“It did,” responded a female voice. “What is the matter?”

“Ayoung chap’s out here on the ground that has had a tussle with Tige. He’s gone clear away, and we’ll have to bring him in, Is’pose?”

“Oh, yes! It’s a dreadful night. You carry him in, and Iwill get some lights and make a place for him.”

Carlos was soon deposited on a couch, with a rough man staring at him, and a young girl, not so rough, endeavoring to restore him.

The man was tall and dark, with a shaggy beard covering nearly his whole face, and heavy eyebrows, overhanging a pair of deep-set, small, restless-looking eyes. He was large as well as tall, and his build betokened great strength. His position was not erect, but his gait was slouching, his look sullen, and his manner that of one at odds with all the world.

The daughter was also large of frame, but she did not share the devil-may-care look of her father. To be sure there was danger in those black eyes when her nature was once aroused, but there was the woman in them—womanly care, womanly softness, womanly passion.

As she bent over the form of Carlos, she overflowed with pity, and used gentle means to restore him.

And when her efforts were rewarded with success she stared at him eagerly, with a loud beating heart, and tears just ready to fall. Then for the first time her hand trembled and her steadiness of nerve forsook her.

Carlos slowly opened his eyes, pressed his hands to his forehead for a moment, and then looked his thanks at the being whose hands were deftly making him comfortable. Beneath his gaze she trembled violently and blushed a deep red. Her face was half averted, and she could find neither words nor voice to express her joy.

Her father saw that Carlos was returning to consciousness, and, going to a chair on the opposite side of the room, said, gruffly, as he sat down:

“He’ll do well enough now.”

At that Carlos sprang up suddenly, saying:

“Yes, I’m all right, and Imust go. How far is it to Dalton?”

“Oh, sir,” said the girl, finding her voice, “you must not go to-night. You can’t.”

“Yes, Imust,” said Carlos. “Can you tell me how far it is to Dalton?”

“Amatter o’ four mile,” replied the man.

“Yes, it’s four miles, and it’s a bad road, with ever so many turns,” said the girl.

Carlos stepped to the door and looked out. It had nearly stopped raining, but the darkness was intense, and the water could be heard rushing in torrents in the ditch beside the road.

“If Ionly knew the way,” he said, straining his eyes in the vain endeavor to discern surrounding objects; “if Ionly knew the way, Iwould not hesitate a moment.”

“If you don’t know the way,” said the girl, “you couldn’t possibly find it. No, it wouldn’t do for you to try. You will have to stay with us until daylight.”

This seemed to be the only alternative, and Carlos reluctantly submitted. Afire was built for him to dry his clothes by, and the room was abandoned to his sole occupancy.

He was agitated, and bewailed the necessity of inaction.

“To remain away all night will make them suspect me,” he thought.

But he was exhausted, and, lying down on the couch, he sank into a troubled sleep. His dreams were disturbing, and he flung his arms and talked wildly as he slept.

Not till morning dawned and the sun was up did he awake. He sprang from the couch, and it took him some moments to recover full consciousness of his situation. Then with a groan he commenced dressing, and was soon in a presentable condition.

The father and daughter were already up, and in the next room had a breakfast prepared, although it was not yet six o’clock.

“We thought you ought to have something to eat before setting out,” said the girl, greeting him with a smile.

“Ithank you very much,” replied Carlos. “Iwill take a cup of coffee, and then must be off.”

During the meal he inquired the names of his host and hostess. The man was Jake Heath, and the girl was his daughter Kate.

“Thank you,” said Carlos. “Iwill remember you, and repay you some time, if Iever have an opportunity.”

He shrank from offering money, as he instinctively felt that it would offend Kate. So, after again and again expressing his gratitude, he took leave of the two, shaking hands with them heartily.

Kate stood and watched him, a new light coming into her eyes, and a sigh escaping her, coming from the profoundest depths of her nature. The seeds of a hopeless passion had been planted in her heart.

Carlos’ thoughts were different. As he turned toward Dalton he was filled with terrible though vague apprehensions. Although he drove rapidly, he approached the village with fear and trembling, and felt that he was rushing into the jaws of death. And even at the early hour at which he entered the town, he saw that there was an unusual stir. The few that were out, instead of going quietly about their usual business, were talking with one another in excited tones, with sober looks and blanched faces.

Well did he know the terrible nature of their half-whispered words and low-spoken discussions.