There wanted but this to complete Edith's distress and confusion.

Her blood, which rushed to her brow, made a sudden revulsion to her heart, and left her as pale as death.

This change did not escape the attention of Evandale, whose quick glance easily discovered that there was between the prisoner and the object of his own attachment, some singular and uncommon connexion.
He resigned the hand of Miss Bellenden, again surveyed the prisoner with more attention, again looked at Edith, and plainly observed the confusion which she could no longer conceal.
"This," he said, after a moment's gloomy silence, "is, I believe, the young gentleman who gained the prize at the shooting match." "I am not sure," hesitated Edith--"yet--I rather think not," scarce knowing what she replied.
"It is he," said Evandale, decidedly; "I know him well.

A victor," he continued, somewhat haughtily, "ought to have interested a fair spectator more deeply." He then turned from Edith, and advancing towards the table at which Claverhouse now placed himself, stood at a little distance, resting on his sheathed broadsword, a silent, but not an unconcerned, spectator of that which passed..