had alarmed her, he
disposed of Darsie Latimer's riding-skirt, which had been left in the
apartment, over the back of two chairs, forming thus a sort of screen,
behind which he ensconced himself with the maiden of the green mantle;
feeling at the moment, that the danger in which he was placed was almost
compensated by the intelligence which permitted those feelings towards
her to revive, which justice to his friend had induced him to stifle in
the birth.

The relative situation of adviser and advised, of protector and
protected, is so peculiarly suited to the respective condition of man
and woman, that great progress towards intimacy is often made in very
short space; for the circumstances call for confidence on the part of
the gentleman, and forbid coyness on that of the lady, so that the usual
barriers against easy intercourse are at once thrown down.

Under these circumstances, securing themselves as far as possible from
observation, conversing in whispers, and seated in a corner, where they
were brought into so close contact that their faces nearly touched each
other, Fairford heard from Lilias Redgauntlet the history of her family,
particularly of her uncle; his views upon her brother, and the agony
which she felt, lest at that very moment he might succeed in engaging
Darsie in some desperate scheme, fatal to his fortune and perhaps to his
life.

Alan Fairford's acute understanding instantly connected what he had
heard with the circumstances he had witnessed at Fairladies. His first
thought was, to attempt, at all risks, his instant escape, and procure
assistance powerful enough to crush, in the very cradle, a conspiracy of
such a determined character. This he did not consider as difficult; for,
though the door was guarded on the outside, the window, which was not
above ten feet from the ground, was open for escape, the common on which
it looked was unenclosed, and profusely covered with furze. There
would, he thought, be little difficulty in effecting his liberty, and in
concealing his course after he had gained it.

But Lilias exclaimed against this scheme. Her uncle, she said, was a man
who, in his moments of enthusiasm, knew neither remorse nor fear. He
was capable of visiting upon Darsie any injury which he might conceive
Fairford had rendered him--he was her near kinsman also, and not an
unkind one, and she deprecated any effort, even in her brother's favour,
by which his life must be exposed to danger. F