"
"'Tis a damned scandalous insinuation," cried Barnstable, with an
indignation that he in vain attempted to conceal. "Who gives currency to
such a libel, Mr. Griffith?"
"I had it of the marine," said his friend, losing the archness that had
instigated him to worry his companion, in the vacant air of one who was
careless of everything; "but I don't believe half of it myself--I have
no doubt you all had your eyes open last night, whatever you might have
been about this morning."
"Ah! this morning! there was an oversight, indeed! But I was studying a
new signal-book, Griffith, that has a thousand times more interest for
me than all the bunting you can show, from the head to the heel of your
masts."
"What! have you found out the Englishman's private talk?"
"No, no," said the other, stretching forth his hand, and grasping the
arm of his friend. "I met last night one on those cliffs, who has proved
herself what I always believed her to be, and loved her for, a girl of
quick thought and bold spirit."
"Of whom do you speak?"
"Of Katherine----"
Griffith started from his chair involuntarily at the sound of this name,
and the blood passed quickly through the shades of his countenance,
leaving it now pale as death, and then burning as if oppressed by a
torrent from his heart. Struggling to overcome an emotion, which he
appeared ashamed to betray even to the friend he most loved, the young
man soon recovered himself so far as to resume his seat, when he asked,
gloomily:
"Was she alone?"
"She was; but she left with me this paper and this invaluable book,
which is worth a library of all other works.
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