"Does he suspect anything yet, Guy, think you?--have you seen anything
which might sanction a thought that he knew or conjectured more than he
should?" inquired Munro, anxiously.
"I will not say that he does, but he has the perception of a lynx--he is
an apt man, and his eyes have been more frequently upon me to-day than I
altogether relish or admire. It is true, mine were upon him--as how,
indeed, if death were in the look, could I have kept them off! I caught
his glance frequently; turning upon me with that stern, still
expression, indifferent and insolent--as if he cared not even while he
surveyed. I remember that glance three years ago, when he was indeed a
boy--I remembered it when, but a few days since, he struck me to the
earth, and would have ridden me to death with the hoofs of his horse,
but for your timely appearance."
"It may be as you believe, Guy; but, as I saw nothing in his manner or
countenance affording ground for such a belief, I can not but conceive
it to have been because of the activity of your suspicions that you
discovered his.
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