"It is; and he conceives himself too fortunate to have been of the
smallest service to Mr. and Miss Brandon."

On having convinced himself that it was indeed to Mr. Clifford that he
owed his safety as well as that of his daughter, whom he believed to have
been in a far more imminent peril than she really was,--for to tell thee
the truth, reader, the pistol of Tomlinson was rather calculated for show
than use, having a peculiarly long bright barrel with nothing in it,--the
squire was utterly at a loss how to express his gratitude; and when he
turned to Lucy to beg she would herself thank their gallant deliverer, he
found that, overpowered with various emotions, she had, for the first
time in her life, fainted away.

"Good heavens!" cried the alarmed father, "she is dead,--my Lucy, my
Lucy, they have killed her!"

To open the door nearest to Lucy, to bear her from the carriage in his
arms, was to Clifford the work of an instant. Utterly unconscious of the
presence of any one else,--unconscious even of what he said, he poured
forth a thousand wild, passionate, yet half-audible expressions; and as
he bore her to a bank by the roadside, and seating himself supported her
against his bosom, it would be difficult perhaps to say, whether
something of delight--of burning and thrilling delight--was not mingled
with his anxiety and terror. He chafed her small hands in his own; his
breath, all trembling and warm, glowed upon her cheek; and once, and but
once, his lips drew nearer, and breathing aside the dishevelled richness
of her tresses, clung in a long and silent kiss to her own.

Meanwhile, by the help of the footman, who had now somewhat recovered his
astonished senses, the squire descended from his carriage, and approached