he swore that I should go, with a terrible oath. I tried to get away, but he kept hold of my hand, and threw his other arm round me, and was dragging me away down the path towards the sea-shore, when suddenly my father came up and struck him. I had not been able to resist much, on account of my broken arm, but the moment my father came up he let me go, and returned the blow he had received. We were then close upon the edge of the cliff, and there is, if you recollect, a low railing, where the path begins to descend. My father struck him again and again, and at last he fell back against the railing, which broke, I think, under his weight, and oh! father, I saw him fall headlong over the cliff. I thought I should have died at that moment, and before I recovered myself my father had taken me by the hand and was leading me away. When we had got a hundred yards or two, I stopped, and asked if it would not be better to go or send down to the sea-shore, to see if some help could not be rendered to him. My father said he had heard the boatmen come to assist him, and that was enough." Clive had covered his eyes with his hand while Helen spoke; but at her last words he looked up, saying, in a stern tone, "Quite enough! He well deserved what he has met with. I did not intend it, it is true; but whether he be dead or living, he has only had the chastisement he merited. I had heard but an hour or two before all his base conduct to this dear child--I had heard that he had outraged, insulted, persecuted her; and although I had promised Norries not to kill him, yet I had resolved, the first time I met with him, to flay him alive with my horsewhip. I found him again insulting her; and can any man say I did wrong to punish the base villain on the spot? I regret it not; I would do it again, be the consequences what they may; and so I will tell judge and jury whenever I am called upon to speak." "I trust that may never be, my son," replied the priest, looking at him with an expression of melancholy interest; "and I doubt not at all that, if you follow the advice which I will give you, suspicion will never even attach to you." "I shall be very happy, father, to hear your advice," answered Clive; "but I have no great fears of any evil consequences. People cannot blame me for striking a man who was insulting and seeking to wrong my child. I did but defend my own blood and her honour, and there is no crime in that." "People often make a crime where there is none, Clive," answered Mr. Filmer. "This young man is dead, and you must recollect that he was a peer of England." "That makes no difference," exclaimed Clive. "Thank God we do not live in a land where the peer can do wrong any more than the peasant! I am sorry he is dead, for I did not intend to kill him; but he well deserved his death, and his station makes no difference."