"Do you think," whispered Arthur Temple to Seth Dumbrick, who had given Ned Chester into Richards' charge, "that we might raise her into the trap, and drive her slowly to the town?" The tender arms about her desisted from their effort as she moaned: "If you raise me in your arms, I shall die! If you attempt to carry me into the town, I shall die!" The very words she had spoken to John on that night of agony. And then again: "Will he never come? If he saw me, he would take pity on me! Send him to me, kind Heaven!" Another actor appeared upon the scene,--Mr. Temple, who, accompanied by the ostler, had found his way to the spot. "Arthur!" he cried. The young man rose at once to his feet, and went to his father. Mr. Temple, in the brief glance he threw around him, saw faces he recognised; saw Richards guarding Ned Chester, saw Seth Dumbrick and Sally, saw, without observing her face, Mrs. Lenoir lying with her head on the Duchess's bosom. He did not look at them a second time. His only thought was of Arthur, the pride and hope of his life, the one being he loved on earth. "What has brought you here, sir?" asked Arthur. "Anxiety for you," replied Mr. Temple. "Why do I see you in this company? How much is true of the story that man told me?"--pointing to Seth Dumbrick. "If you have got yourself into any trouble----" The look of pained surprise in Arthur's face prevented the completion of the sentence. The father and son had moved a few paces from the group, and the words they exchanged were heard only by themselves. "If I have got myself into any trouble!" echoed Arthur, struggling with the belief his father's words carried to his mind. "What trouble do you refer to?" "We must not play with words, Arthur. My meaning is plain. If that man's story is true, and you have entangled yourself with a woman--such things commonly happen----" "For both our sakes," said Arthur, drawing himself up, "say not another word. I came here to save an innocent girl from a villain's snare. When you find me guilty of any such wickedness as your words imply, renounce me as your son--as I would renounce a son of mine if unhappily he should prove himself capable of an act so base and cruel! The name of Temple is not to be sullied by such dishonour!" Mr. Temple shuddered involuntarily, remembering that it was on this very spot he, a mature and worldly-wise man, had been guilty of an act immeasurably more base and dishonourable than that in the mind of his generous-hearted son. "Come, sir," said Arthur, taking his father's hand, and leading him to the group, "do justice to others as well as to myself. This is the young lady whom, happily, we have saved. Confess that you have never looked upon a fairer face, nor one more innocent."