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GUY MANNERING;
OR,
THE ASTROLOGER.
CHAPTER I.
Can no rest find me, no private place secure me,
But still my miseries like bloodhounds haunt me?
Unfortunate youug man, which way now guides thee,
Guides thee from death? The country's laid around for thee—
Our narrative now recalls us for a moment to the period when young Hazlewood received his wound. That accident had no sooner happened, than the consequences to Miss Mannering and to himself rushed upon Brown's mind. From the manner in which the muzzle of the piece was pointed when it went off, he
