"I have made every inquiry, darling, but she has not been seen. Her disappearance is not the least remarkable part of this extraordinary plot, so darkly, deeply, cleverly laid. I hope we may yet meet her, to try and express our gratitude. Oh, what a wondrous week this has been!" "Talk not of it--let us forget past misery in present bliss, and not forget to thank Him who protected me when naught else availed. Oh! what I thought my worst trial proved my safety. I had almost put an end to my life. I struck, and he stopped the blade, and I thought all was over. Had he not I should have been now cold and dead. Man's extremity is surely God's opportunity." "We should indeed be thankful. What should I have done if I had found my Ellen dead?" "And what should I have been had that fatal pistol shot not been intercepted by faithful Wilton?" "But let us not talk more of it, but rather of the welcome of our friends at home." Whilst the Earl and Ellen drove to the Towers, the Captain lifted the bound man, and, carrying him down stairs, tossed him on the ground as if he had been a bundle of hay and not a human being, making him groan again with the pain. But the Captain was aware any tenderness to the man whom everyone was reviling would excite suspicion. "Lay hands on the villain, and pitch him into the carriage. Wilson, you will guard him to prison--he can't move." "I will, right gladly: let the ruffian only attempt an escape, or any of his foul companions try a rescue! I am armed, by G--! and they will catch it." "That's like a sea-king!--mind he is put in a strong cell." "Trust me; good-bye. I'll see you to-morrow; I shan't come out again as it is so late now." The second carriage then drove off for Edinburgh, where the prisoner was safely lodged in the Calton gaol. Another carriage, with the Marquis, left soon after, bearing Scroop, still insensible--indeed it was feared his skull was fractured. Last, a sad procession left the Peel, bearing the mortal remains of Wilton for the Towers. The corpse was laid across young Nimrod, who seemed by instinct to know his burden, and paced solemnly along. On either side rode huntsmen, or walked foresters; and there was many a manly eye wet with tears as the _cortege_ wound over hill and dale, and at length stopped at the widow's door. Already his fate had been broken to his poor wife and young family; so it was with a wail of lamentation that they received the cold remains of the jolly huntsman into his neat little cottage, now no more his home, but young Wilton's, to whom the Earl had at once given his father's situation.