"'When we met the strange gentleman first, we walked along the lane, and I ran about gathering flowers--yet I remember I kept thinking, why is mamma offended with that gentleman?--what right has he to displease her? and I came back with it in my mind to tell him that he should not say anything to annoy mamma; but when I took her hand she seemed no longer angry, but very, very sorry. I remember she said, "I grieve deeply for you, Rupert"--and then she added, "My good wishes are all I have to give." I remember the words, for they made me fancy, in a most childish manner, mamma must have left her purse at home--and I began to think of my own--but seeing him so well dressed, I felt a few shillings would do him no good. Mamma talked on very softly, looking up in the stranger's face; he was tall--taller, younger--and better looking than papa: and I ran on again, for I did not know what they were talking about. At one time mamma called me and said she would go back, and I was very glad, for it was growing late, and I felt hungry--but the stranger said, "Only a little farther--to the end of the lane only"--so we walked on, and he talked about her forgetting him, and she said something that was best, and he ought to forget her. On this he burst forth very angrily, and I grew angry too--but he changed, and asked her to forgive him--and so we reached the end of the lane. "'We stopped there, and mamma held out her hand, and said--"Farewell!"--and something more--when suddenly we heard the sound of wheels, and a carriage came at full speed round from a turn in the road; it stopped close to us--her hand trembled which held mine--and the stranger said--"You see I said true--I am going--and shall soon be far distant: I ask but for one half hour--sit in the carriage, it is getting cold." Mamma said, "No, no--it is late--farewell" but as she spoke the stranger as it were led her forward, and in a moment lifted her up; he seemed stronger than any two men--and put her in the carriage--and got in himself, crying to me to jump after, which I would have done, but the postillion whipped the horses. I was thrown almost under the wheel by the sudden motion--I heard mamma scream; but when I got up the carriage was already a long way off--and though I called as loud as I could--and ran after it--it never stopped, and the horses were going at full gallop. I ran on--thinking it would stop or turn back--and I cried out on mamma--while I ran so fast that I was soon breathless--and she was out of hearing--and then I shrieked and cried, and threw myself on the ground--till I thought I heard wheels, and I got up and ran again--but it was only the thunder--and that pealed and the wind roared, and the rain came down--and I could keep my feet no longer, but fell on the ground and forgot everything, except that mamma must come back and I was watching for her. And this, nurse, is my story--every word is true--and is it not plain that mamma was carried away by force?'