Satisfied with this survey, Leonard opened the gate, but had no sooner set foot in the garden than the loud barking of a dog was heard, and Bell rushed forth.  Leonard instantly called to her, and on hearing his voice, the little animal instantly changed her angry tones to a gladsome whine, and, skipping towards him, fawned at his feet.  While he stooped to caress her, the piper, who had been alarmed by the barking, appeared at the door, and called out to know who was there?  At the sight of him, Thirlby, who was close behind Leonard, uttered a cry of surprise, and exclaiming, “It is he!” rushed towards him.

The cry of recognition uttered by the stranger caused the piper to start as if he had received a sudden and violent shock.  The ruddy tint instantly deserted his cheek, and was succeeded by a deadly paleness; his limbs trembled, and he bent forward with a countenance of the utmost anxiety, as if awaiting a confirmation of his fears.  When within a couple of yards of him, Thirlby paused, and having narrowly scrutinized his features, as if to satisfy himself he was not mistaken, again exclaimed, though in a lower and deeper tone than before, “It is he!” and seizing his arm, pushed him into the house, banging the door to after him in such a manner as to leave no doubt in the apprentice’s mind that his presence was not desired.  Accordingly, though extremely anxious to hear what passed between them, certain their conversation must relate to Nizza Macascree, Leonard did not attempt to follow, but, accompanied by Bell, who continued to gambol round him, directed his steps towards the grave of Dame Lucas.  Here he endeavoured to beguile the time in meditation, but in spite of his efforts to turn his thoughts into a different channel, they perpetually recurred to what he supposed to be taking place inside the house.  The extraordinary effect produced by Nizza Macascree on Thirlby—­the resemblance he had discovered between her and some person dear to him—­the anxiety he appeared to feel for her, as evinced by his recent search for her—­the mysterious connection which clearly subsisted between him and the piper—­all these circumstances convinced Leonard that Thirlby was, or imagined himself, connected by ties of the closest relationship with the supposed piper’s daughter.

Leonard had never been able to discern the slightest resemblance either in manner or feature, or in those indescribably slight personal peculiarities that constitute a family likeness, between Nizza and her reputed father—­neither could he now recall any particular resemblance between her and Thirlby; still he could not help thinking her beauty and high-bred looks savoured more of the latter than the former.  He came, therefore, to the conclusion that she must be the offspring of some early and unfortunate attachment on the part of Thirlby, whose remorse might naturally be the consequence of his culpable conduct at that time.  His sole perplexity was the piper’s