fellow-craven, Sir Hugh Guilford, there?"

"Madam," replied Molyneux humbly, "Sir Hugh's leg is broken. Lady
Rellerton graciously permits him to be taken in."

"I do not permit it! M. de Chateaurien rides with us."

"But--"

"Sir! Leave the wretch to groan by the roadside," she cried fiercely,
"which plight I would were that of all of you! But there will be a
pretty story for the gossips to-morrow! And I could almost find pity
for you when I think of the wits when you return to town. Fine gentlemen
you; hardy bravos, by heaven! to leave one man to meet a troop of horse
single-handed, while you huddle in shelter until you are overthrown and
disarmed by servants! Oh, the wits! Heaven save you from the wits!"

"Madam."

"Address me no more! M. de Chateaurien, Lady Rellerton and I will
greatly esteem the honor of your company. Will you come?"

She stepped quickly into the coach, and was gathering her skirts to make
room for the Frenchman, when a heavy voice spoke from the shadows of the
tree by the wayside.

"Lady Mary Carlisle will, no doubt, listen to a word of counsel on this
point."

The Duke of Winterset rode out into the moonlight, composedly untieing a