"The law says nothing about that. We have orders to take her sick or
well. We will do her no harm except so far as we must perform our
office, be it how it will."

"Where would you take her? What is it you mean to do?"

"To the county jail. Bullock, go, order a post-chaise from the Griffin!"

"Stay, I say! Give no such orders! Wait only three hours; I will send
off a messenger express to squire Falkland, and I am sure he will
satisfy you as to any harm that can come to you, without its being
necessary to take the poor child to jail."

"We have particular directions against that. We are not at liberty to
lose a minute. Why are not you gone? Order the horses to be put to
immediately!"

Emily had listened to the course of this conversation, which had
sufficiently explained to her whatever was enigmatical in the first
appearance of the bailiffs. The painful and incredible reality that was
thus presented effectually dissipated the illusions of frenzy to which
she had just been a prey. "My dear Madam," said she to Mrs. Hammond, "do
not harass yourself with useless efforts. I am very sorry for all the
trouble I have given you. But my misfortune is inevitable. Sir, if you
will step into the next room, I will dress myself, and attend you
immediately."

Mrs. Hammond began to be equally aware that her struggles were to no
purpose; but she could not be equally patient. At one moment she raved
upon the brutality of Mr. Tyrrel, whom she affirmed to be a devil