At all events the night preceding the day of Woodward's marriage with Miss Riddle had arrived, but two circumstances occurred on that evening and on that night which not only frustrated all his designs upon Miss Riddle, or rather upon her uncle's property, but--however, we shall not anticipate.
It was late in the evening when Miss Riddle was told by a servant that a young man, handsome and of fine proportions, wished to see her for a few minutes.
"Not that I would recommend you to see him," said the serving-woman who delivered the message.

"He is, to be sure, very handsome; but, then, he is one of those wild people, and armed with a great mid-dogue or dagger, and God knows what his object may be--maybe to take your life.

As sure as I live he is a tory." "That may be," replied Miss Riddle; "but I know, by your description of him, that he is the individual to whose generous spirit I and my dear uncle owe our lives: let him be shown in at once to the front parlor." In a few minutes she entered, and found Shawn before her.
"O Shawn!" said she, "I am glad to see you.

My uncle is using all his interest to get you a pardon--that is, provided you are willing to abandon the wild life to which you have taken." "I am willing to abandon it," he replied; "but I have one task to perform before I leave it.

You have heard of the toir, or tory-hunt, which was made after me and others; but chiefly after me, for I was the object they wanted to shoot down, or rather that he, the villain, wanted to murder under the authority of those cruel laws that make us tories." "Who do you mean by he ?" asked Miss Riddle.
"I mean Harry Woodward," he replied.