, he
stumbled as he dismounted from the horse, and might have had a bad fall,
had it not been broken by the gallant interposition of a gentleman, who
probably was, on his part, a little surprised at the solid weight of the
distressed fair one whom he had the honour to receive in his embrace.
But what was his surprise to that of Darsie, when the hurry of the
moment and of the accident, permitted him to see that it was his friend
Alan Fairford in whose arms he found himself! A thousand apprehensions
rushed on him, mingled with the full career of hope and joy, inspired by
the unexpected appearance of his beloved friend at the very crisis, it
seemed, of his fate.

He was about to whisper in his ear, cautioning him at the same time to
be silent; yet he hesitated for a second or two to effect his purpose,
since, should Redgauntlet take the alarm from any sudden exclamation on
the part of Alan, there was no saying what consequences might ensue.

Ere he could decide what was to be done, Redgauntlet, who had entered
the house, returned hastily, followed by Cristal Nixon. 'I'll release
you of the charge of this young lady, sir;' he said, haughtily, to Alan
Fairford, whom he probably did not recognize.

'I had no desire to intrude, sir,' replied Alan; 'the lady's situation
seemed to require assistance--and--but have I not the honour to speak to
Mr. Herries of Birrenswork?'

'You are mistaken, sir,' said Redgauntlet, turning short off, and
making a sign with his hand to Cristal, who hurried Darsie, however
unwillingly, into the house, whispering in his ear, 'Come, miss, let us
have no making of acquaintance from the windows. Ladies of fashion must
be private. Show us a room, Father Crackenthorp.'

So saying, he conducted Darsie into the house, interposing at the same
time his person betwixt the supposed young lady and the stranger of whom
he was suspicious, so as to make communication by signs impossible. As
they entered, they heard the sound of a fiddle in the stone-floored
and well-sanded kitchen, through which they were about to follow their
corpulent host, and where several people seemed engaged in dancing to
its strains.

'D--n thee,' said Nixon to Crackenthorp, 'would you have the lady go
through all the mob of the parish? Hast thou no more private way to our
sitting-room?'

'None that is fit for my travelling,' answered the landlord, laying his
hand on his portly stomach. 'I am not Tom Turnpenny, to creep like a
liz