I expected to have seen her much more surprised at the strange path through which she had to go.--From the armoury to the cell she never spoke. Her mind was overcharged with swelling emotions.--At times we were obliged to stand still. She even panted for freer respiration. The---- * * * * * I heard wheels.--I expected our chaise.--It is some travellers who have stopped to bait. After we had safely crossed the moat, she alternately grasped our hands in a tumult of joy; named you, named me, but _talked_ on the never-failing theme of _her_ Clement. She rode behind Richardson.--I see she is much worse for the journey; yet her burning eye and vehement spirits would persuade me otherwise. She kindly ceased her torturing questions concerning Clement, imagining, by my abrupt answers, I was too ill to talk.--She says you will heal me--for you have healed her.--Miss Ashburn, how ardently she loves you! I find you will receive this letter an hour before we come.--Won't you thank, and praise me?--It is written with a shaking hand, and throbbing temples. I know it would be difficult to keep Sibella from mounting the same horse, if she were informed of the messenger. When we enter the chaise, I will tell her what I have done. A. MURDEN LETTER XXXI FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME Why should I have the rage of distraction without the phrenzy? Dare they tell me I am a lunatic?--She is gone, Miss Ashburn? I have lost your treasure!--Some villain, lured by the vestiges of her transcendent beauty, has taken her from me.--They have forced me into a bed!--The barbarians confine me here.--Won't you order me to be released?--Oh sweet Miss Ashburn, won't you tell them I must be released? Now I recollect I wanted to tell you all the particulars.----Ha! they fade from me, and I dream again!---- * * * * * Madam, I keep the Blue Boar at Hipsley; and the poor unhappy gentleman who wrote the above came to my house with his lady yesterday morning. As long as ever I live, I shan't forget the poor gentleman's ravings, when he discovered that his lady had ran away from him, and he only came to his senses about an hour ago, when he ordered us to send for you, and he wrote till his raving fit returned; and it would melt your heart, madam, to hear how he is bemoaning himself and calling by the kindest names the ungrateful wicked lady who served him so badly.--I saw her jump into the chaise myself; and she went willingly enough, though he won't believe it. My son brings you this, madam; and I hope you will tell us what we must do for the poor gentleman. From Your ladyship's humble servant, MARY HOLMES LETTER XXXII FROM CAROLINE ASHBURN TO ARTHUR MURDEN