"Egad, for no very good reason I know, seeing that I could not hold my own prisoner, and am but a milk-livered loon to hold the game of young Sparrow-Hawk. Thousand devils! knew I but where to turn White Surrey's snout, I should _exit_ by side door, and so vanish, wench and all, were it only to give him a Roland for his Oliver." "I know not what you mean," said Catherine, her terror restoring her to full consciousness--"I know not what you mean," she repeated, with increasing alarm, as the moon, peeping side-long through a rent in the clouds, threw a level and ghastly ray on the countenance of her supporter, revealing features which her fears converted into those of an evil being;--"but, oh sir! I conjure you to free me. Do me no harm,--suffer me to escape,--let me dismount, though it should be but to die on the way-side." Unfortunately,--not for her prayer, for no idea of granting that could have ever entered the volunteer's brain,--but unfortunately for the maiden herself, the same ray which revealed his visage to her gaze fell brightly upon her own, which, although pallid as death, yet displayed a pair of eyes to which the excitement of terror gave unusual lustre, and which instantly converted the drunken indifference of Sterling into admiration. He stared at her for a moment, and then burst out, in the words of Romeo, and with an emphasis that preserved, along with his usual dramatic extravagance of fervour, some little touch of natural approbation,-- "'Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business, do entreat her eyes To twinkle in their spheres, till they return!' Oho, Master Brook, sweet young Hawk! never trust me if I do not take thy minion in fair exchange for my own:-- 'Follow your function, go! And batten on cold bits.'-- Sweet and beautiful, and thrice beautiful and as many times angelical, fair soul!" he added, addressing himself to Catherine, "that I have so long remained insensible to thy charms, trust me, it was in part owing to the stupidity which I find growing upon me among the 'ruthless, vast and gloomy woods,' and in part also to the great grief of mind with which I have been mourning the loss of another very tenderly beloved damsel; but chiefly because thine eyes refused their light, and yonder moon in like manner. But now, 'by yonder blessed moon I swear,' I perceive you are ten times handsomer than the other, ass that I was to suppose the contrary; but, however, I was then thinking of the lieutenant and sour grapes.--Sweet, angelical soul, you said something about escaping, and doing you harm, and so on? Now, as to the harm, rest easy; but look as frightened as you please,--for what's so pretty in a maid as pretty fear? But as to escaping,--you would escape, then? go free from these villanous, green-coated, axe-handed, ox-headed, timber-tongued Hawks of the Hollow, eh? You would give them the slip, eh?"