Louis smiled, and thought; "Did you know all the ease of those ladies, how little would you have sullied those pure lips with even the mention of their names." But he only answered, "My dear Alice, licence in your sex is more complimented than respected by ours.--Modesty in woman must be the fashion with men of principle in every country." When he closed his relation, Mrs. Coningsby rose from her chair in vehement indignation at her brother; who had thus sought to gratify a whim, at the expence of his own honour, and the risque of his nephew's life.--The sisters trembled at what might have been the fatal consequence of Louis's desperate escape. And to calm the three, by diverting their attention to what he felt they were all most inhospitably neglecting, Mr. Athelstone proposed their seeking the Marquis and his son; while he remained a few minutes with Louis, to make some necessary observations on what they had just heard. Louis foresaw that his uncle meant to enquire more particularly respecting the Duke, than he had thought fit to do before his nieces.--When they had left the room, the good old man drew his chair close to his nephew, and with earnest tenderness asked him _if he had disclosed all_?--The cheeks of Louis kindled and his eyes fell. "My child," cried the Pastor, "these answer for you.--You have not!--I guessed it, from your manner when you spoke of those women, and that dissembling Wharton.--Fear not to confess to me.--What is it that you have withheld from me?" "Nothing, I trust, my dearest Sir, to justify this extraordinary agitation in yourself." "Thank God! Thank God.--That open brow is still unmarked with consciousness of guilt.--Oh, my child, may it be ever thus with thee!--Preserve that innocence, so bright, so peace-bestowing! and never hesitate doing as you did this morning, risking your life in its preservation." "I never will, my uncle:--So help me, heaven!" A solemn pause ensued.--When Mr. Athelstone again spoke, the restored serenity of his mind was seen in the benign composure with which he proceeded to discuss the very subject which, a few moments before, had occasioned him so much emotion. He at once expressed his belief that his nephew's contest at Bamborough had been of a more serious nature than he had yet allowed; and he hoped he was not uncharitable in suspecting that Duke Wharton made those theatrical ladies his tools to detain Louis, while he played the disinterested part of promoting his release. Louis would not admit this inference; but he acknowledged that his uncle had guessed right with regard to the share the ladies had in protracting his stay. He ingenuously told the whole relating to them; and did not even disguise his own delusion of senses during the midnight revels.