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The
searchers
,
now
dismounted
,
are
upon
the
open
ground
in
front
.
They
are
all
there
.
Calhoun
has
made
known
the
condition
of
things
inside
;
and
there
is
no
need
for
them
to
keep
up
their
vigilance
.
They
stand
in
groups
--
some
silent
,
some
conversing
.
A
larger
crowd
is
around
the
Connemara
man
;
who
lies
upon
the
grass
,
last
tied
in
the
trail-rope
.
His
tongue
is
allowed
liberty
;
and
they
question
him
,
but
without
giving
much
credit
to
his
answers
.
On
the
re-appearance
of
the
father
and
daughter
,
they
face
towards
them
,
but
stand
silent
.
For
all
this
,
they
are
burning
with
eagerness
to
have
an
explanation
of
what
is
passing
.
Their
looks
proclaim
it
.
Most
of
them
know
the
young
lady
by
sight
--
all
by
fame
,
or
name
.
They
feel
surprise
--
almost
wonder
--
at
seeing
her
there
.
The
sister
of
the
murdered
man
under
the
roof
of
his
murderer
!
More
than
ever
are
they
convinced
that
this
is
the
state
of
the
case
.
Calhoun
,
coming
forth
from
the
hut
,
has
spread
fresh
intelligence
among
them
--
facts
that
seem
to
confirm
it
.
He
has
told
them
of
the
hat
,
the
cloak
--
of
the
murderer
himself
,
injured
in
the
death-struggle
!
But
why
is
Louise
Poindexter
there
--
alone
--
unaccompanied
by
white
or
black
,
by
relative
or
slave
?
A
guest
,
too
:
for
in
this
character
does
she
appear
!
Her
cousin
does
not
explain
it
--
perhaps
he
can
not
.
Her
father
--
can
he
?
Judging
by
his
embarrassed
air
,
it
is
doubtful
.
Whispers
pass
from
lip
to
ear
--
from
group
to
group
.
There
are
surmises
--
many
,
but
none
spoken
aloud
.
Even
the
rude
frontiersmen
respect
the
feelings
--
filial
as
parental
--
and
patiently
await
the
éclaircissement
.
"
Mount
,
Louise
!
Mr
Yancey
will
ride
home
with
you
.
"
The
young
planter
thus
pledged
was
never
more
ready
to
redeem
himself
.
He
is
the
one
who
most
envies
the
supposed
happiness
of
Cassius
Calhoun
.
In
his
soul
he
thanks
Poindexter
for
the
opportunity
.
