“There is a man in the church-yard who has had a fall, Martin; go and see if he is seriously hurt.” “And tell him,” added Mr. Huyton, “that if he does not instantly decamp, I will send a constable after him to-morrow, and punish him for his conduct. The atrocious ruffian!” added he, in a lower voice, which yet trembled with passion, “to dare to insult you with his vulgar insolence. Thank Heaven that I was there to save you!” Hilary could not answer for a little while; her nerves were unstrung, and tears were following each other down her cheeks, choking her voice, and agitating her whole person. They walked on for some yards in silence; but by resolute efforts she so far conquered her emotion as to be able to speak. “I am much obliged to you; I need not detain you longer, I am quite safe now!” She would have drawn away her hand from under his arm, but he retained it still, and finding he was resolved to accompany her, she seized the opportunity to make one effort more. “Mr. Huyton you are indignant at the man who, in his stupid, half-insensible brutality, has just alarmed me by his coarseness; but is it more inexcusable than the refined and considerate cruelty which tortures the feelings and wrings the hearts of those who having never offended, are yet sacrificed to the revengeful determination of another?” He made no answer at all; but she fancied, from the motion of the arm on which she rested, that he was contending with suppressed agitation. It was too dark to see his features distinctly. “I know,” she continued, softly, “that you have good and noble sentiments left in your heart; your interference for my rescue shows that; your evil angel may whisper dark thoughts to you, but the promptings of a better spirit are still heard; oh! listen, and yield to it; and, not for my sake, but for your own, your happiness now, and your welfare in eternity, banish revengeful thoughts; forgive _me_ for the fancied injury which you resent, and make poor Dora happy!” They had reached the wicket gate. She paused, and held out her hand. “Say one kind farewell, and let us part as friends!” He grasped her hand so firmly as almost to cause unbearable pain, hesitated, and then said in a wild tone, “No――no, I have sworn, and will not falter from my word;” and throwing her hand from him, he rushed rapidly away. CHAPTER XXII. “Or perchance has her young heart Felt already some deeper smart Of those that in secret her heart-strings rive, Leaving her sunk and pale, though fair.” ISEULT OF BRITTANY. Wearied in body, and exhausted in mind, Hilary entered the house with slow and lingering steps. Gwyneth met her in the vestibule with an exclamation of―― “How late you are, Hilary!” “Yes,” replied the latter, looking fixedly at her sister. “What is the matter, dear?”