She started from her couch of furs, and with a woman's weakness, cowered away in the furthest corner of the lodge, to escape the pitiless fees, whom her fears represented as already seeking her life.

Nor was this chimera banished from her mind when a man, rushing in, snatched her from her ineffectual concealment and hurried her towards the door.

But her terrors ran in another channel, when the ravisher, conquering the feeble resistance she attempted, replied to her wild entreaties "not to kill her," in the well-remembered voice of Braxley: "Kill you, indeed!" he muttered, but with agitated tones; "I come to save you; even _you_ are in danger from the maddened villains: they are murdering all! We must fly,--ay, and fast.

My horse is saddled,--the woods are open--I will yet save you." "Spare me!--for my uncle's sake, who was your benefactor, spare me!" cried Edith, struggling to free herself from his grasp.

But she struggled in vain.