ut Henry, though sick and weak with the
blows, caught him, and clung to his knees, and the next moment the place
was filled with men carrying torches and gleaming swords, and led by a
gentleman, who stood over Henry, in evening dress, but with the haughty
expanded nostrils, the brilliant black eyes, and all the features of
that knight in rusty armor who had come to him in his dream and left him
with scorn.

At this moment a crash was heard: two of the culprits, with desperate
agility, had leaped on to the vestry chest, and from that on to the
horse, and from him headlong out of the window.

Mr. Raby dispatched all his men but one in pursuit, with this brief
order--"Take them, alive or dead--doesn't matter which--they are only
cutlers; and cowards."

His next word was to Cole. "What, three blackguards to one!--that's how
Hillsborough fights, eh?"

"I'm not a blackguard," said Henry, faintly.

"That remains to be proved, sir," said Raby, grimly.

Henry made answer by fainting away.

CHAPTER XVI.

When Henry Little came to himself, he was seated on men's hands, and
being carried through the keen refreshing air. Mr. Raby was striding on
in front; the horse's hoofs were clamping along on the hard road behind;
and he himself was surrounded by swordsmen in fantastic dresses.

He opened his eyes, and thought, of course, it was another vision.
But no, the man, with whose blows his body was sore, and his right
arm utterly numbed, walked close to him between two sword-dancers with
Raby-marks and Little-marks upon him, viz., a face spotted with blood,
and a black eye.

Little sighed.

"Eh, that's music to me," said a friendly voice close to him. It was
the King George of the lyrical drama, and, out of poetry, George the
blacksmith.

"What, it is you, is it?" said Little.

"Ay, sir, and a joyful man to hear you speak again. The cowardly
varmint! And to think they have all got clear but this one! Are ye sore
hurt, sir?"

"I'm in awful pain, but no bones broken." Then, in a whisper--"Where are
you taking me, George?"

"To Raby Hall," was the whispered reply.

"Not for all the world! if you are my friend, put me down, and let me
slip away."

"Don't ask me, don't ask me," said George, in great distress. "How could
I look Squire in the face? He did put you in my charge."

"Then I'm a prisoner!" said Henry, sternly.

George hung his head, but made no reply.

Henry also maintained a sullen silence after