"No, no! he is my preserver."

Sir B---- M---- was too mad with rage to pay any attention to her, and kept
on,---

"Let me go, traitors"

As may be imagined, I did not pay much attention to this request so long
as the loaded pistol was in his hand.

In our struggles he at last fell to the ground and I on top of him. The
landlord and his people had heard the uproar, and were trying to get in;
but as we had fallen against the door they could not do so.

Betty had the presence of mind to snatch the pistol from his hand, and I
then let him go, calmly observing,

"Sir, you are labouring under a delusion."

Again Betty threw herself on her knees, begging him to calm himself, as I
was her preserver not her betrayer.

"What do you mean by 'preserver'?" said B---- M----

Betty gave him the letter, saying,--

"Read that."

The Englishman read the letter through without rising from the ground,
and as I was certain of its effect I opened the door and told the