lities, coupled with what she had already witnessed of the
fight, led her to hope that he would yet return victorious to deliver
her.

She had ceased to struggle ere the victors returned, partly because
of the hope with which she had deluded herself, and partly because
her attempts had only wearied her without bringing her any nearer to
success; but at the first glimpse of the slowly approaching company
she broke away from her too trustful captors and fled precipitately
towards the advancing party.

"Let me go to him; is he hurt?" she cried, as one of her guardians
overtook her and pulled her to a standstill, and starting forward
again she left a fragment of her dress between the man's fingers, and
hastened on again until she reached her lover's side.

"Speak, John," she exclaimed in piteous tones, as she gazed upon his
pallid face and livid form. "Speak just one word to me."

But Manners did not speak. Thoroughly stunned by the blows he had
received, he lay quite unconscious in the position in which he had
been placed, and he was so weakened by the loss of blood from his
wounds that his immediate return to consciousness was exceedingly
problematical. He lay deaf, and apparently dead, whilst Dorothy
pleaded in vain for a word from his lips.

"Just one word," she repeated, pathetically.

"Poor Lady," exclaimed Sir Henry's page, who was in charge of the
party. "Don't take it to heart so much; he will come round soon, and
be himself again. Nay, touch her not," he commanded, as one of the men
was about to take her away, "she will do no harm."

"He is dead," she sobbed, and ere she could be assured that her
conjecture was wrong she fainted away, and was gently laid beside
her lover, while they were borne swiftly and silently, by sequestered
roads, from the scene of the adventure.

Sir Henry watched them departing till a turn in the road hid them from
view, and then, bethinking himself of his position, he mounted his
steed and rode rapidly away, feeling immensely relieved that, after
all, he had proved successful.

A few minutes in the saddle sufficed him, and then dismounting, he
took of his hat and belaboured it well with the stock end of his whip.

He satisfied himself at length, and ceasing from his efforts in that
direction he laid it on the ground and surveyed the effect.

It looked battered indeed, and evidently well pleased with the result,
the knight set busily to work upon his clothes. He carefully tore