But the irrevocable words were not destined to be spoken, for just then George Grosvenor, goaded to jealous desperation, stalked out through the open casement and joined them.
The midnight moon was sailing up to the zenith as Sir Everard rode home.

His road was a lonely one through Brithlow Wood, which shortened his journey by over a mile; but his thoughts were pleasant ones, and he hummed, as he rode, the songs Lady Louise had sung.
"Confound that muff, Grosvenor!" he thought.

"If it had not been for his impertinent intrusion, the matter would have been safely settled by this time--and settled pleasantly too, I take it; for, without being a conceited noodle, I really think Lady Louise will say yes.

Ah! what's this ?" For out of the starlit darkness, from among the trees, started up a giant black figure, and his horse was grasped by the bridle and hurled back upon his haunches.
"You villain," the young man dauntlessly cried, "let go my bridle-rein! Who are you?
What do you want ?" "I'm Dick Darkly," answered a deep, gruff voice, "and I want your heart's blood!" "You poaching scoundrel!" exclaimed Sir Everard, quick as lightning raising his riding-whip and slashing the aggressor across the face.
"Let go my horse's head." With a cry that was like the roar of a wild beast the man sprung hack.
The next instant, with a horrible oath, he had seized the young man and torn him out of the saddle.
"I'll tear you limb from limb for that blow, by heavens!" Dick Darkly shouted.

"If I hadn't meant to kill you before, I would kill you for that cut of your whip.