ry.

"Excellent! But, say those things in French.--Your dark-eyed maid has
eloped. She left the room five minutes after Captain Gambier."

Wilfrid sprang to his feet, looking eagerly to the corners of the room.

"Pardon me," he said, and moved up to Lady Gosstre. On the way he
questioned himself why his heart should be beating at such a pace.
Standing at her ladyship's feet, he could scarcely speak.

"Yes, Wilfrid; go after her," said Adela, divining his object.

"By all means go," added Lady Gosstre. "Now she is there, you may as
well let her keep her promise; and then hurry her home. They will saddle
you a horse down below, if you care to have one."

Wilfrid thanked her ladyship, and declined the horse. He was soon
walking rapidly under a rough sky in the direction of Ipley, with no
firm thought that he would find Emilia there.

CHAPTER XI

At half-past nine of the clock on the evening of this memorable day, a
body of five-and-twenty stout young fellows, prize-winners, wrestlers,
boxers, and topers, of the Hillford Club, set forth on a march to Ipley
Common.

Now, a foreigner, hearing of their destination and the provocation
they had endured, would have supposed that they were bent upon deeds of
vengeance; and it requires knowledge of our countrymen to take it as a
fact that the idea and aim of the expedition were simply to furnish the
offending Ipley boys a little music. Such were the idea and the aim.
Hillford had nothing to do with consequences: no more than our England
is responsible when she sails out among the empires and hemispheres,
saying, 'buy' and 'sell,' and they clamour to be eaten up entire.
Foreigners pertinaciously misunderstand us. They have the barbarous
habit of judging by results. Let us know ourselves better. It is
melancholy to contemplate the intrigues, and vile designs, and
vengeances of other nations; and still more so, after we have written so
many pages of intelligible history, to see them attributed to us. Will
it never be perceived that we do not sow the thing that happens? The
source of the flooding stream which drinks up those rich acres of low
flat land is not more innocent than we. If, as does seem possible, we
are in a sort of alliance with Destiny, we have signed no compact, and
accomplish our work as solidly and merrily as a wood-hatchet in the
hands of the woodman. This arrangement to give Ipley a little music, was
projected as a return for the favours of the mornin