'It is a trifle,' said Louis;' Isabel is safe. There is all cause for thankfulness. We could never have got through if she had not been every inch a heroine.' 'Oh, Lord Fitzjocelyn, if I could thank you!' 'Don't,' said Louis, with so exactly his peculiar droll look and smile, that all were reassured. Isabel began to recount their adventure. 'In the midst of those horrid wretches! and the firing!' cried Lady Conway. 'My dear, how could you bear it? I should have died of fright!' 'There was no time for fear,' said Isabel, with a sort of scorn; 'I should have been ashamed to be frightened when Lord Fitzjocelyn took it so quietly. I was only afraid lest you should repeat their horrid war-cry. I honour your refusal.' 'Of course one would not in their sense, poor things, and on compulsion,' said Louis, his words coming the slower from the exhaustion which made him philosophize, rather than exert himself. 'In a true sense, it is the war-cry of our life.' 'How can you talk so!' cried Lady Conway. 'Delaford says the ruffians are certain to overpower the Guard. We must go directly. Very likely this delay of yours may prevent us from getting off at all.' 'I will find out whether the way be open,' said Louis, 'when I have-' His words failed him, for as he rose, the handkerchief slipped off, a gush of blood came with it, and he was so faint that he could hardly reach the sofa. Lady Conway screamed, Virginia rang the bells, Isabel gave orders that a surgeon should be called. 'Spirits from the vasty deep,' muttered Louis, in the midst of his faintness, 'the surgeons have graver work on hand.' 'For heaven's sake, don't talk so!' cried his aunt, without daring to look at him; 'I know your arm is broken!' 'Broken bones are a very different matter, experto crede. This will be all right when I can stop the bleeding,' and steadying himself with difficulty, he reached the door, and slowly repaired to his own room, while the girls sent Fanshawe and Delaford to his assistance. Lady Conway, unable to bear the sight of blood, was in a state of nervous sobbing, which Virginia's excited restlessness did not tend to compose; and Isabel walked up and down the room, wishing that she could do anything, looking reproachfully at her mother, and exalting to the skies the courage, presence of mind, and fortitude of the wounded knight. Presently, Delaford came down with a message from Lord Fitzjocelyn that it was of no use to wait for him, for as the butler expressed it, 'the haemorrhage was pertinacious,' and he begged that the ladies would depart without regard to him. 'In fact,' said Delaford, 'it was a serious crisis, and there was no time to be lost; an English gentleman, Captain Lonsdale, who had already offered his services, would take care of his lordship, and my Lady had better secure herself and the young ladies.' 'Leave Fitzjocelyn!' cried Virginia. 'Is it very dangerous, Delaford?' asked Lady Conway.