he hands of the Lady Helen,
who returned to her kind task once more.
Scarcely had she left the room when there came the sound of a man's
step from the passage, and Plessis darted out. The footfall which he
heard was that of Lord Sherbrooke, who was seeking Wilton; and as
soon as the young nobleman saw him, he advanced towards him with both
his hands extended, saying,--
"Oh, Wilton, dear friend, this has been a terrible night. But it is
in the fiery furnace of such nights as this that hard hearts are
melted and cast in a new mould. I feel that it is so with mine. But
to the business that makes me seek you," he continued, in a low tone,
seeing that there was another person in the room, and drawing Wilton
on one side. "Listen to me! Quit this house as fast as possible. I
find you are in a nest of furious Jacobites, and there may be great
danger to you if found here. I remain with my poor Caroline; and far
away from all the rest, have nothing to fear, although the warning
that she gave was intended for me. You speed away to London as fast
as possible. But remember, Wilton! remember: mention no word of this
night's event to my father. He does not expect me in town for
several days, and I must choose my own time and manner to give him
the history of all this affair. He holds me by a chain you know not
of--the chain of my heavy debts. I am at liberty but upon his
sufferance, and one cold look from him to Jew or usurer would plunge
me in a debtor's prison in an hour. The man who has debts he cannot
pay, Wilton, is worse than any ordinary slave, for he is a slave to
many masters. But I must away," he continued, in his rapid manner,
"for I have left her with no one but the servant girl, and I must
watch her till all danger be past."
"I trust she is better," said Wilton; "I trust there is no danger."
"They tell me not, they tell me not, Wilton," replied Lord
Sherbrooke; "but now that I have been upon the very eve of losing a
jewel, of which I was but too careless before, I feel all its value,
and would fain hide it trembling in my heart, lest fate should snatch
it from me. Say nothing of these things--remember, say nothing of
them."
"But Arden, but Arden," said Wilton, as Lord Sherbrooke was turning
away--"but the Messenger, Sherbrooke. May he not tell something?"
"The cowardly villain ran away so soon," replied Lord Sherbrooke, "he
could hear nothing, and understand less. He is a cautious scoundrel,
too, and will hold his tongue. Yet you may gi