villains now, yes, though they were double the
number--and here she clenched her little hand, and pressed her foot upon
the ground--the pride she felt for a moment in having won his heart,
faded in a burst of tears, and she sobbed more bitterly than ever.

As the night wore on, and they proceeded by ways which were quite
unknown to them--for they could recognise none of the objects of which
they sometimes caught a hurried glimpse--their fears increased; nor were
they without good foundation; it was not difficult for two beautiful
young women to find, in their being borne they knew not whither by a
band of daring villains who eyed them as some among these fellows did,
reasons for the worst alarm. When they at last entered London, by a
suburb with which they were wholly unacquainted, it was past midnight,
and the streets were dark and empty. Nor was this the worst, for the
carriage stopping in a lonely spot, Hugh suddenly opened the door,
jumped in, and took his seat between them.

It was in vain they cried for help. He put his arm about the neck of
each, and swore to stifle them with kisses if they were not as silent as
the grave.

'I come here to keep you quiet,' he said, 'and that's the means I shall
take. So don't be quiet, pretty mistresses--make a noise--do--and I
shall like it all the better.'

They were proceeding at a rapid pace, and apparently with fewer
attendants than before, though it was so dark (the torches being
extinguished) that this was mere conjecture. They shrunk from his touch,
each into the farthest corner of the carriage; but shrink as Dolly
would, his arm encircled her waist, and held her fast. She neither cried
nor spoke, for terror and disgust deprived her of the power; but she
plucked at his hand as though she would die in the effort to disengage
herself; and crouching on the ground, with her head averted and held
down, repelled him with a strength she wondered at as much as he. The
carriage stopped again.

'Lift this one out,' said Hugh to the man who opened the door, as
he took Miss Haredale's hand, and felt how heavily it fell. 'She's
fainted.'

'So much the better,' growled Dennis--it was that amiable gentleman.
'She's quiet. I always like 'em to faint, unless they're very tender and
composed.'

'Can you take her by yourself?' asked Hugh.

'I don't know till I try. I ought to be able to; I've lifted up a good
many in my time,' said the hangman. 'Up then! She's no small weight,
b