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It
was
he
.
How
came
the
cousin
of
Louise
Poindexter
to
be
astir
at
that
late
hour
of
the
night
,
or
,
as
it
was
now
,
the
earliest
of
the
morning
?
Had
he
been
forewarned
of
this
interview
of
the
lovers
;
or
was
it
merely
some
instinctive
suspicion
that
had
caused
him
to
forsake
his
sleeping-chamber
,
and
make
a
tour
of
inspection
within
the
precincts
of
the
garden
?
In
other
words
,
was
he
an
eavesdropper
by
accident
,
or
a
spy
acting
upon
information
previously
communicated
to
him
?
The
former
was
the
fact
.
Chance
alone
,
or
chance
aided
by
a
clear
night
,
had
given
him
the
clue
to
a
discovery
that
now
filled
his
soul
with
the
fires
of
hell
.
Standing
upon
the
housetop
at
the
hour
of
midnight
--
what
had
taken
him
up
there
can
not
be
guessed
--
breathing
vile
tobacco-smoke
into
an
atmosphere
before
perfumed
with
the
scent
of
the
night-blooming
cereus
;
the
ex-captain
of
cavalry
did
not
appear
distressed
by
any
particular
anxiety
.
He
had
recovered
from
the
injuries
received
in
his
encounter
with
the
mustanger
;
and
although
that
bit
of
evil
fortune
did
not
fail
to
excite
within
him
the
blackest
chagrin
,
whenever
it
came
up
before
his
mind
,
its
bitterness
had
been
,
to
some
extent
,
counteracted
by
hopes
of
revenge
--
towards
a
plan
for
which
he
had
already
made
some
progress
.
Equally
with
her
father
,
he
had
been
gratified
that
Louise
was
contented
of
late
to
stay
within
doors
:
for
it
was
himself
who
had
secretly
suggested
the
prohibition
to
her
going
abroad
.
Equally
had
he
remained
ignorant
as
to
the
motive
of
that
garden
archery
,
and
in
a
similar
manner
had
misconceived
it
.
In
fact
,
he
had
begun
to
flatter
himself
,
that
,
after
all
,
her
indifference
to
himself
might
be
only
a
feint
on
the
part
of
his
cousin
,
or
an
illusion
upon
his
.
She
had
been
less
cynical
for
some
days
;
and
this
had
produced
upon
him
the
pleasant
impression
,
that
he
might
have
been
mistaken
in
his
jealous
fears
.
He
had
as
yet
discovered
no
positive
proof
that
she
entertained
a
partiality
for
the
young
Irishman
;
and
as
the
days
passed
without
any
renewed
cause
for
disquiet
,
he
began
to
believe
that
in
reality
there
was
none
.
Under
the
soothing
influence
of
this
restored
confidence
,
had
he
mounted
up
to
the
azotea
;
and
,
although
it
was
the
hour
of
midnight
,
the
careless
insouciance
with
which
he
applied
the
light
to
his
cigar
,
and
afterwards
stood
smoking
it
,
showed
that
he
could
not
have
come
there
for
any
very
important
purpose
.
It
may
have
been
to
exchange
the
sultry
atmosphere
of
his
sleeping-room
for
the
fresher
air
outside
;
or
he
may
have
been
tempted
forth
by
the
magnificent
moon
--
though
he
was
not
much
given
to
such
romantic
contemplation
.
Whatever
it
was
,
he
had
lighted
his
cigar
,
and
was
apparently
enjoying
it
,
with
his
arms
crossed
upon
the
coping
of
the
parapet
,
and
his
face
turned
towards
the
river
.
