"What! brother?" cried a harsh voice in his ear, as he attempted to stagger forward, and found himself arrested by the hand of Oran: "What, man, am I not both doctor and brother?--a good doctor, too? You shall look up now, and be healed in a day--heart-whole, body-whole! I knew what it was was killing you." Fierce and abrupt were the accents of the refugee; but there was mingled with them a tone singularly expressive of affection.--"And were you not a fool to doubt," he added, "when you had the love of the maiden? But come, Hyland; this duty is not for you--give her here to Staples"-- "Never, Oran, never!" "Foolish boy, you are sinking under her weight. You must ride unburthened, or be captured. When the fresh air opens her eyes, and she can sit a horse herself, you shall ride at her side. Quick! and get you after her to the horses." With these words, and without regarding the opposition of the feeble lover, he drew the lady from his arms, and putting her into charge of another, bade him 'see to her, and the rest,' and then immediately darted back to the house. "Perhaps it is better," muttered Hyland, conscious of his inability much longer to support his precious freight, yet resolved she should not be long sustained in the arms of another. "I have saved her,--I have saved myself; ay, and I have prevented murder, too. Go, Oran; the victim is beyond your reach. Ah! Catherine, thou hadst been dearly purchased, had it been with blood,--even with the blood of a Falconer!" He was still pursuing after his mistress, and had nearly reached the park-gate, when his ear was saluted by a piercing scream from behind, and the voice of Miss Falconer, which he instantly recognised, calling for help. He ran back, and discovered her struggling in the arms of Monsieur Tiqueraque, who was bearing her along at a great pace, and all the time uttering, with a volubility not a little inflamed by his frequent visits to the bottle, in which he had quite distinguished himself, a thousand exhortations to the lady to be pacified, with as many eccentric commendations of her beauty and his own good qualities. "_Tuchou! taisez vous_, ou-at de deb'l! _mon ange, ma petite, ma maîtresse, avec les yeux noirs d'un diablotin!_" he heard him cry, "ou-y for you fear? _comment diantre_, ou-y for you squeak? You are the mos' fine leddee of all, and I am the mos' excellent jentlemans, and I s'all love you, begar, mos' extremely. _Fi donc!_ you mus' know, I am jentlemans in disguise, and have you love 'is sis mon's, and s'all make you very good lovare. O ciel, begar, I do so sink you ver' beaut'ful, and I s'all give you on' douzaine kiss extreme fine, _mon dieu_, if you s'all no squeak no more." "What, Sterling, are you mad!" cried Hyland, seizing this incorrigible adventurer and exemplary wooer by the arm. "Release the lady instantly--you have made a mistake."