He held on for a moment to the branch, while a
groan of deepest agony broke from his lips, when he fell supine to the
ground. At that moment, the moon shone forth unimpeded and unobscured by
a single cloud. The person of the wounded man was fully apparent to the
sight. He struggled, but spoke not; and the hand of Rivers was again
uplifted, when Munro rushed forward.
"Stay--away, Guy!--we are mistaken--this is not our man!"
The victim heard the words, and, with something like an effort at a
laugh, though seemingly in great agony, exclaimed--
"Ah, Munro, is that you?--I am so glad! but I'm afraid you come too
late. This is a cruel blow; and--for what? What have I done to you,
that--oh!--"
The tones of the voice--the person of the suffering man--were now
readily distinguishable.
"Good God! Rivers, what is to be the end of all this blundering?"
"Who would have thought to find _him_ here?" was the ferocious answer;
the disappointed malice of the speaker prompting him to the bitterest
feelings against the unintended victim--"why was he in the way? he is
always in the way!"
"I am afraid you've done for him.
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