o
my sanity, and storm the fair one's fortress in person. A. B."

"It is not my Aurelia's writing," said the Major. "Bravest of friends,
what has he not dared on her account!"

"This is too much!" cried Mr. Wayland, striving in horror against
his convictions. "I cannot hear my beloved wife loaded with monstrous
suspicions in her absence!"

"I am sorry to say this is no new threat ever since poor Belamour has
crossed her path," said the Major.

"What have you done, sir!" asked Sir Amyas.

"I fear I have but wasted time," said the Major. "I have been to Hanover
Square, and getting no admittance there, I came back in the hope you
might be on the track with Betty--as, thank God, you were! The first
thing to be done now is to find what she has done with Belamour," he
added, rising up.

"That must fall to my share," said Mr. Wayland, pale and resolute. "Come
with me, Amyas, your young limbs will easily return before the effect of
the narcotic has passed, and I need fuller explanation."

Stillness than came on the Delavie party. The Major went up stairs, and
sat by Aurelia's bed gazing with eyes dazzled with tears at the child he
had so longed to see, and whom he found again in this strange trance.
A doctor came, and quite confirmed Mr. Wayland's opinion, that the drug
would not prove deleterious, provided the sleep was not disturbed, and
Betty continued her watch, after hearing what her father knew of Mr.
Belamour. She was greatly struck with the self-devotion that had gone
with open eyes into so dreadful a snare as a madhouse of those days
rather than miss the least chance of saving Aurelia.

"If we go by perils dared, the uncle is the true knight-errant," said
she to her father. "I wonder which our child truly loves the best!"

"Betty!" said her father, scandalised.

"Ay, I know, Sir Amyas is a charming boy, but what a boy he is! And she
has barely spoken with him or seen him, whereas Mr. Belamour has been
kind to her for a whole twelvemonth. I know what I should do if I were
in her place. I would declare that I intended to be married to the
uncle, and would keep it!"

"He would think it base to put the question."

"He would; but indeed, dear sir, I think it would be but right and due
to the dear child herself that she should have here free choice, and
not be bound for ever by a deception! Yes, I know the poor boy's despair
would be dreadful, but it would be better for them both than such a
mistake."