t quickly recovering
himself, he rode boldly up to, and addressed, the object of his idle
fears:--"I have been waiting here for hours," replied the young woman,
for such indeed she was, "and my friend is not yet come; I am sadly
afraid, sir, some accident may have happened to him."

"_Him!_" quoth the stranger laughing, "O my good girl, if you be waiting
for a _gentleman_, no wonder you're disappointed. He has played you
false, rely upon it, and won't come to night,--so you'd better go home."

"O sir! O my Lord!--I cannot--I dare not! What would father and mother
say? and what could I say?"

"Ay--Annette,--Annette Martin,--what _could_ you say?"

"Only the _truth_, your lordship;" replied the poor girl sobbing, and
curtseying, "and then they'd turn me out of doors, for they do so hate
Charles,--Charles Elliott, your honour,--that they've as good as sworn,
as they'll never consent to my marrying him, and so--and so--I was just
a waiting here to-night for him to come as he promised he would, and
take me away to the far off town, and"--

"And there marry you, I suppose, without your father and mother's
consent:--eh, Annette?"

"Yes, my lord, an please you," replied the poor girl with another rustic
dip.

"No, Annette," replied the young baron, "it does not quite please me;
and Charles, at any rate, unless some very unforeseen circumstance
should have detained him, shall know what _I_ think of his present
conduct to you. But come,--mount behind me,--I am unexpectedly returning
to the Castle, Dame Trueby shall there make you comfortable for
to-night, your parents and friends shall never know but that your
absence from home was occasioned by a regular visit to her, and your
marriage in two or three days, with _my_ sanction, Annette, will, I
think, completely settle matters."

The urbane young baron alighting, assisted Annette to mount his noble
steed, who, though overwhelmed by his kindness, refused to listen to all
the consolation, or banterings, with which he endeavoured to cheer her
on her way to Castle Mortimer, choosing rather to believe that some
dreadful accident had befallen her lover, than that carelessness, or
perfidy, caused his absence. Dame Trueby's account was little calculated
to soothe Annette's anxiety, or to satisfy Lord Mortimer respecting
Elliott's proceedings.

"I have not seen Charles," said she, "since early this morning, when I
heard him say he was going to feed the hounds, poor creatures! a