Charlton, who, thunderstruck by all that had past, seemed almost robbed
of her faculties. Mr Singleton proposed calling a hackney coach, she
consented, and they stopt for it at the church porch.

The clergyman now began to enquire of the pew-opener, what she knew of
the woman, who she was, and how she had got into the church? She knew
of her, she answered, nothing, but that she had come in to early
prayers, and she supposed she had hid herself in a pew when they were
over, as she had thought the church entirely empty.

An hackney coach now drew up, and while the gentlemen were assisting
Mrs Charlton into it, Delvile returned.

"I have pursued and enquired," cried he, "in vain, I can neither
discover nor hear of her.--But what is all this? Whither are you
going?--What does this coach do here?--Mrs Charlton, why do you get
into it?--Cecilia, what are you doing?"

Cecilia turned away from him in silence. The shock she had received,
took from her all power of speech, while amazement and terror deprived
her even of relief from tears. She believed Delvile to blame, though
she knew not in what, but the obscurity of her fears served only to
render them more dreadful.

She was now getting into the coach herself, but Delvile, who could
neither brook her displeasure, nor endure her departure, forcibly
caught her hand, and called out, "You are _mine_, you are my _wife_!--I
will part with you no more, and go whithersoever you will, I will
follow and claim you!"