When the oppressor was thus oppressed, the first impulse of the Earl was to rush to Ellen, who had borne up so manfully, and so bravely sustained her character till the very last; then the reaction was too much for her; she would have fallen in a dead swoon on the floor had the Earl not instantly caught her in his arms. He lifted her as if she had been a child, her head sinking back over his arms, and her long hair, escaped from its net, flowing in all the wildness of dishevelled charms, almost sweeping the ground as he carried her to the nearest sofa. "Ellen, my own sweetest Ellen, speak, dearest--you are safe--you are in my care--speak, darling." And he pressed his lips on her pale cheek. "Quick, hasten for water--John--Musgrave--be quick, she is dying. Oh, my darling Ellen, live, live to bless me once more." Meanwhile the Marquis was beginning to grow weary of holding down his foe, who seemed momentarily gaining fresh strength. Every one was flocking round Ellen, still in a most alarming swoon. Over her the Earl bent with indescribable fondness, chafing her temples with his hand, and calling for water, while the Marquis as loudly called for aid. "Here, you lazy, idle sluggards, here; help! for God's sake; I am weary; faith, I'll let him go if no one comes. Do you hear? Bedad, to be left here pressing down such a viper." "Hold, I'll come; just wait a bit. There, Wentworth, is your jug of water; freshen her up well, she is more frightened than hurt. Patience, by G--, I'm coming; what the devil are you kicking up such a devilish row about? Can't you keep a dog like that still with your big body?" It was the Captain who spoke, as our readers have guessed, no doubt. He then went to assist the Marquis. "Ha, that's right, keep a good grip on the hound's throat, or the dog'll bite, by G--. I've a rope, and a stout one too. Samson could never break it, and I warrant it muzzles him. Now I'll tie up his legs; he kicks like a mule, but it is no go. Well I'm d--d, Ned; who would have thought you would ever have come to this?" During all this well feigned abuse, the Captain was busy binding the fallen man's limbs, which he did with a roughness that made him groan. "Now, Arranmore, turn him over, stuff something in his mouth if he bites--here's a plaid to muzzle him; turn him on his back, and I'll bind the rascal's arms. I'faith they have done damage enough already. Cease your whining, you villain; I have you now, I'll tie your arms up for you; there, is that jolly, you devil?" So saying, he put his knees on the crossed wrists, and strained the rope so tight it wrung a yell of agony from the hapless prisoner. "Not so hard; remember he is a Christian, De Vere." "A Christian, a pretty Christian, by Jove! to murder poor old Wilton, fell Scroop, and play such a trick on Ellen Ravensworth. The villain! leave him to me, I'll mend the rascal's manners."