Book may have numerous typos, missing text, images, or index. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. 1866. Excerpt: ... CHAPTER LVI. A SHOT AT THE DEVIL. All night long the invalid lay awake; at times tranquil, at times giving way to a paroxysm of unconscious passion. All night long the hunter sate by his bedside, and listened to his incoherent utterances. They but confirmed two points of belief already impressed upon Zeb''s mind : that Louise Poindexter was beloved; that her brother had been murdered! The last was a belief that, under any circumstances, would have been painful to the backwoodsman. Coupled with the facts already known, it was agonising. He thought of the quarrel--the hat--the cloak. He writhed as he contemplated the labyrinth of dark ambiguities that presented itself to his mind. Never in his life had his analytical powers been so completely baffled. He groaned as he felt their impotence. He kept no watch upon the door. He knew that if tliey came, it would not be in the night. Once only he went out; but that was near morning, when the light of the moon was beginning to mingle with that of the day. He had been summoned by a sound. Tara, straying among the trees, had given utterance to a long dismal " gowl," and come running seared-like into the hut. Extinguishing the light, Zeb stole forth, and stood listening. There was an interruption to the nocturnal chorus; but that might have been caused by the howling of the hound? What had caused it I The hunter directed his glance first upon the open lawn; then around its edge, and under the shadow of the trees. There was nothing to be seen there, except what should be. He raised his eyes to the cliff, that in a dark line trended along the horizon of the sky--broken at both ends by the tops of some tall trees that rose above its crest. There were about fifty paces of clear space, which he knew to be the edge of the upper plain terminating at th...