“Miss Dalton,” said Mowbray, in a low voice, “your carriage has been sent for. It is here, and will take you to the Hall.” Edith made no reply, but looked absently toward the door. “Miss Dalton,” said Mowbray, coming a little nearer, “I implore you to hear me. I would kneel at your feet if you would let me. But you are so imbittered against me now that it would be useless. Miss Dalton, it was not hate that made me raise my hand against you. Miss Dalton, I swear that you are more dear to me than life itself. A few moments ago I was mad, and did not know what I was doing. I did not want you to go away from this place, for I saw that you would be lost to me forever. I saw that you hated me, and that if you went away just then I should lose you. And I was almost out of my senses. I had no time to think of any thing but the bitter loss that was before me, and as you fled I seized you, not in anger, but in excitement and fear, just as I would have seized you if you had been drowning.” “Captain Mowbray,” said Edith, sternly, “the violence you have offered me is enough to satisfy even you, without such insult as this.” “Will you not even listen to me?” “Listen!” exclaimed Edith, in an indescribable tone. “Then I must be heard. I love you. I--” “Love!” interrupted Edith, in a tone of unutterable contempt. “Yes, love,” repeated Mowbray, vehemently, “from the first time that I saw you, when you implored my help.” “And why did you not give me your help?” asked Edith, looking at him in cold and haughty indignation. “I will tell you,” said Mowbray. “Before I saw you I knew how you were situated. Wiggins would have kept me away, but dared not. I know that about him which makes me his master. When I saw you, I loved you with all my soul. When you appealed to me, I would have responded at once, but could not. The fact is, Mrs. Mowbray was present. Mrs. Mowbray is not what she appears to be. Before her I had to pretend an indifference that I did not feel. In short, I had to make myself appear a base coward. In fact, I had to be on my guard, so as not to excite her suspicions of my feelings. Afterward, when I might have redeemed my character in your eyes, I did not know how to begin. Then, too, I was afraid to help you to escape, for I saw that you hated me, and my only hope was to keep you here till you might know me better.” “Captain Mowbray,” said Edith, “if you are a captain, which I doubt, such explanations as these are paltry. After what you have done, the only thing left is silence.” “Oh, Miss Dalton, will nothing lead you to listen to me? I would lay down my life, to serve you.” “You still wish to serve me; then?” asked Edith. “Most fervently,” cried Mowbray. “Then open that gate,” said Edith. Mowbray hesitated.