"Oh! nothing at all," answered Jack, sneeringly, "though this room's as much mine as yours, for that matter. " "Enschede?—her father? What's happened?" McClintock sat down. After debating with himself whether he should further seek an interview, which, though, now in his power, was so sedulously shunned by the other party, he decided in the negative; and contenting himself with writing upon a slip of paper the hasty words,—"You are known by the villagers,—be upon your guard,"—he gave it to the ostler, with instructions to deliver it instantly to the owner of the horse he pointed out, and pursued his course. "Whose grave is this?" he inquired of a man who was standing near it. He turned to Ruth and McClintock.
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