The next morning her grandsire went again to Bray Wood, and she was
left to muse upon the event of the previous day. While busied about
some trifling occupation, the door suddenly opened, and Morgan
Fenwolf entered the cottage. He was followed by a tall man, with a
countenance of extreme paleness, but a noble and commanding figure.
There was something so striking in the appearance of the latter person,
that it riveted the attention of Mabel. But no corresponding effect was
produced on the stranger, for he scarcely bestowed a look upon her.
Morgan Fenwolf hastily asked whether her grandsire was at home, or
near at hand, and being answered in the negative, appeared much
disappointed. He then said that he must borrow the skiff for a short
while, as he wished to visit some nets on the lake. Mabel readily
assented, and the stranger quitted the house, while Fenwolf lingered to
offer some attention to Mabel, which was so ill received that he was
fain to hurry forth to the boathouse, where he embarked with his
companion. As soon as the plash of oars announced their departure,
Mabel went forth to watch them. The stranger, who was seated in the
stern of the boat, for the first time fixed his large melancholy eyes full
upon her, and did not withdraw his gaze till an angle of the lake hid him
from view.
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