e so sharp and angry, so unlike his usual voice and manner of
speaking, that Wilton drew back astonished, imagining that he had
given his friend some unknown offence. But Lord Sherbrooke grasped his
arm, exclaiming, "Hark! There they are! They are close upon us,
Wilton! I have fallen in with a nest of Jacobites, I fancy, ready for
an outbreak, and they are after me. Have you any arms?"
"Here are plenty of pistols, my lord," said the Messenger, who knew
him.
"Ah, Arden, is that you?" he exclaimed. "Give me a pistol!" and he
took one from the Messenger's hand. "Here are three of us now,
Wilton," he exclaimed, with a laugh, "and one of us a Messenger:
enough surely for any dozen Jacobites in England."
There was something wild, hasty, and strange in Lord Sherbrooke's
manner, which startled and alarmed Wilton a good deal.
"For Heaven's sake, Sherbrooke," he said, "do nothing rashly. Let us
see who they are before you act."
"Oh, I will do nothing rash," replied Sherbrooke. "But here they
come! just like Jacobites, gabbling at every step. Who goes there,
my masters?" he exclaimed, at the same moment. "Don't advance, don't
advance! We are armed! The first man that advances, I shoot upon the
spot!"
"Those are the men! those are the men!" cried a loud voice from the
other party, who were now seen coming up in a mass. "Rush upon them!
Rush upon them, and tie the Messenger!"
"Oh, oh!" cried Arden. "They have found me out, have they! Stand by
me, my lord! Stand by me, Mr. Brown! They are rushing on!"
"Then here's for the midst of them!" cried Lord Sherbrooke; and
instantly levelling his pistol, he fired, though Wilton was in the
very act of holding forth his hand to stop him.
The moment the fatal flash had taken place, there was a reel back
amongst the advancing party, though they were at several yards'
distance when the pistol was fired. A confusion, a gathering together,
a murmur, succeeded; and while Lord Sherbrooke was in the very act of
exclaiming, "Give me another pistol, Arden!" there was heard, from
amongst the party who had been approaching, a loud voice, exclaiming,
"By, he has shot the lady!--and she was only fainting, after all. See
how the blood flows!"
The words were perfectly distinct. Lord Sherbrooke's hand, which had
just seized the other pistol that the Messenger had held out to him,
suddenly let it drop upon the ground. It was not possible to see the
expression of his face fully, for his head was turned away; but
Wilton felt him grasp hi