“How so, if he hates you?” “Because,” said Thornby, tapping the drawer of the table with his fingers, “I have that in my possession which makes him consider my wishes. Yes, sir,” and he thrust his hand carelessly into the drawer, till Everell heard a rustle of papers, “I hold the means of keeping Mr. Robert Foxwell in his place. But that’s neither here nor there. Let’s hear your petition, friend; and you might begin with your name, which I don’t remember as how you’ve yet mentioned.” “I would rather finish than begin with it,” said Everell, “if, when you’ve heard me, you still require it. You may not wish in the future to admit having helped me: if you remain ignorant of my name, you can never be sure.” “’Tis by no means certain that I _shall_ help you,” declared the Squire, bluntly. “I have good hopes of you,” said Everell. “Frankly, sir, I am running away with that lady.” Thornby stared and blinked; finally threw back his head and laughed loudly. “Oho, that’s how the wind sits, eh? Ecod, I might ’a’ guessed as much.” “You are a man of spirit, with an eye for beauty,” Everell went on rapidly: “therefore you will not blame me. I love her, she loves me; but her nearest relation wishes her to marry another—one whom she does not love.” “Devil take her nearest relation!” said Thornby. “Amen! He has so worked upon her mind, by threats of ill consequences to me, as to obtain her consent to marry this other gentleman, much against the dictates of her heart. She is a lady who, having once given her promise, would fulfil it: she was thus barred from eloping with me of her own will. What then was I to do?” “Ecod, sir,” Thornby replied, heartily, “you was to take matters in hand, and carry her away, of _your_ own will!” “Precisely what I have done, sir! I knew I could rely upon your approval.—Well, sir, I seized her under her guardian’s very nose, set her upon a horse that stood waiting, mounted behind her, and was away at a gallop before anybody had the wit to stop me. I made what speed I could, over roads unknown to me; how far we have ridden, what adventures we have had, I beg you will excuse me from relating. So far, no pursuit has come within sight or hearing: though, if her relation was prompt, he need have lost no time but to saddle his horses. Our own beast, which kind fortune had placed ready to my hand, at last broke down; but within a short distance of your gate, which I take as another circumstance of fortune’s favour.” “That’s as how it may be,” said the Squire, who had followed the lover’s recital with lively interest. “But first I’d give something to know who ’tis you’ve—ha, ha!—carried off. Ecod, perhaps ’tisn’t the first time a woman has been carried off against her will but not against her wish! Who is it, man?—come, who is the lady?”