of the shanty. "But there's no light, and, of course, no supper, and I'm as hungry as a starved wolf;" he added.
Flag went into the shanty and threw down his kit, while Ed remained outside to picket his pony.
"I don't see what keeps Doe and Squire out so late, this evening," Flag remarked, coming up behind Ed so unexpectedly as to cause him to jump aside as he was driving a stake in the ground. "I believe I shall go up to the village and get my supper. What do you say to going along?"
I'm not hungry; but I'm tired, and I shall stay at home and go to bed."
"Very well; I wish you a good night's rest," and Flag turned away, half amused and half provoked at his messmate's surly humor.
It was near midnight when Flag returned, accompanied by Allen—other friends and citizens having volunteered to take charge of the body of Dr. Edwards. The night was beautifully light and warm. As the young men walked homeward, conversing on the events of the day, their imaginations became very naturally much excited, and enabled them to recall each and every past circumstance of their association with the deceased. These reminiscences had quite scared away all sleepfulness, and when they threw themselves upon the bed which they occupied in common, it was not to close their eyes, but only to relax their limbs, while they continued their talk.
"We ought to waken Ed, I suppose, and tell him about this affair," said Flag.
"No, not to-night," answered Squire, wearily. "I have had excitement enough for one day; and what's the use of spoiling his sleep, since he can sleep?"
"I heard a great deal about Newcome's daughter, in the village. Is she such a wonderful girl as the people make her out?"
"If you mean is she very intelligent and pretty for her station and parentage, yes. And very gentle and affectionate too, I should say. I wonder where she learned her ladylike ways."
"That's what the Fairview people talk about. The Judge's wife is very much taken with her, and is sorry she let the constable's wife carry her off."
"She has fallen into good hands, I think; but the poor girl was terribly broken down by her misfortunes. I happened to see her in the morning before we met her father, and she was as rosy and smiling as a young thing could be. But, after the mental struggle she had to go through with, and a couple of fainting-fits, she was very much changed."
"Her father must be a cruel and cowardly wretch, according to all accounts. Do you suppose there can be any doubt of its being he who shot the Doctor? I heard one man suggest that there was room for doubt in the case, notwithstanding the strong testimony against him."
"Well, of course, every thing admits of doubt which is not prov-
