wever--keeping the attributes of
her sex--would think the worse of her champion for being trampled under
foot when he had done his best to defend her. You know their province is
to console, and even pet the vanquished; they make up lint for the
wounded as readily as they weave laurels for the conquerors. But when
they have once seen a man play the coward, the silver tongue, with all
its eloquent explanation and honeyed pleadings, will hardly banish from
their eyes the peculiar expression wavering betwixt compassion and
contempt. They may forgive cruelty, or insolence, or even treachery--in
time; but they can find no palliation, and little sympathy, for that one
unpardonable sin. Truly, transgression in this line, beyond a certain
point, may scarcely be excused; for weakness may be controlled, if not
cured: if we can not be dashingly courageous, we may at least be
decently collected: not all may aspire to the cross of valor, but it is
not difficult to steer clear of courts-martial.

A man is not pleasant to contemplate when terror has driven out all
self-command; so we will not draw Mr. Fullarton's picture: he could
scarcely stammer out words enough to suggest an immediate retreat. It
was painful--_not_ ludicrous--to see how justly his own child
appreciated the position: the little thing left her father's side
instinctively, and clung for protection to Cecil Tresilyan. The latter
saw instantly how matters stood; and if the glance she cast on the
aggressor was not pleasant to meet, far more unendurable was that which
fell upon her unlucky companion: it was piercing enough to penetrate the
strong armor of his wonderful self-complacency, and to rankle for many a
day. She struck her small foot on the ground with a gesture of imperial
disdain. Even so the Scythian Amazon might have spurned the livid head
of Cyrus the Great King.

"I will not stir till I see if no one will come who can take my part.
Ah! I would give--"

"Don't be rash, Miss Tresilyan. You might be taken at your word."

Cecil turned quickly, with a delicious sense of confidence and triumph
thrilling through every fibre of her frame: on the top of the rock that
rose ten feet high, like a wall, on their right, stood Royston Keene. A
more pacific character would have dared a greater danger for the reward
and the promise of her eyes.

He took in the whole scene at a glance (perhaps he had heard more than
he chose to own), and, swinging himself lightly down, st