oment, indeed, of their stay made her feel fresh apprehensions lest
that night should not be destined to close without some more painful
event still, than those which she had already witnessed.
She turned, however, to the Lady Helen before she went, and with the
peculiar sort of quiet grace which distinguished her, approached her
gently and kissed her cheek, saying, "I can never thank you
sufficiently, dear lady, for the kindness you have shown me, or the
deliverance which I owe, in the first place, to you; and I thank you
for the kindness you have shown me here, as much as for my
deliverance: for if it had not been for the comfort it gave me, I do
believe I should have sunk under the sorrow, and agitation, and
terror, which I felt when I was first brought hither. I hope and
believe, however, that I do not leave you here never to see you
again."
Lady Helen smiled, and laid her hand gently upon Wilton's arm.
"There is a link between him and me, lady," she said, "which can
never be broken; and I shall often, I hope, hear of your welfare from
him, for I trust that you will see him not infrequently."
Lady Laura blushed slightly, but she was not one to suffer any fine
or noble feeling of the heart to be checked by such a thing as false
shame.
"I trust I shall," she answered, raising her eyes to Wilton's face--"
I trust I shall see him often, very often; and I shall never see him,
certainly, without feelings of pleasure and gratitude. You do not
know that this is the second time he has delivered me from great
danger."
The Duke of Berwick smiled, not, indeed, at Lady Laura's words, but
at the blush that came deeper and deeper into her cheek as she spoke.
He made no observation, however, but changed the conversation by
addressing Wilton, "Wherever I am to procure a horse under your good
guidance, my dear sir," he said, "I must, I believe, take another
name than my own; for though Berwick and London are very distant
places, yet there might be compulsory means found of bringing them
unpleasantly together. You must call me, therefore, Captain
Churchill, if you please;--a name," he added, with a sigh, "which,
very likely, the gentleman who now fills the throne of England might
be very well inclined to bestow upon me himself. Lady Helen, I wish
you good night, and take my leave. Master Plessis, I leave the horse
with you: he never was worth ten pounds, and now he's not worth five;
so you may sell him to pay for my entertainment."
Bowing to the very ground from v