CHAPTER VIII.

A Denouement.

At this moment, Delia with infinite transport, heard the sound of horses at a distance.  Every thing was quiet.  Our heroine listened with eager expectation, and those who guarded her looked out to see who it was that approached.  Suspense was not long on either side.  The horsemen were up with them in a moment.  “Oh, whoever you are,” cried Delia, in an agony of distress, “pity and relieve the most miserable woman’”——­She received no answer, but the horses stopped, and lord Martin was in a moment at the door of the carriage.  “Oh, my lord,” cried Delia, “is it you?  Thanks, eternal thanks, for this fortunate incident.  If you had not come, heaven knows what would have become of me!  Those brutes, those wretches—­But conduct me, my lord, to my father’s house.  Without doubt, they must by this time be in a terrible fright.”

“Do not be uneasy,” cried his lordship, endeavouring to assume an harmonious, but missing his point, he spoke in the shrillest and most squeaking accent that can be imagined.  “Do not be uneasy, my charmer.  You are in the hands of a man, that loves you, as never woman was loved before.  But I will be with you in a minute,” said he.  And withdrawing behind the carriage, he beckoned to the person who had conducted the business of the rape.  “Why, you incorrigible blockhead,” said lord Martin, “you have neglected half your instructions.  Why, her hands are at liberty.”  “I beg your honour’s pardon,” replied the pimp, “I had indeed forgotten, but it shall be remedied in a moment.”  And saying this, he pulled a strong ribband out of his pocket, and getting into the chariot, fastened the soft and lily hands of our heroine behind her.  She screamed, and invoked the name of his lordship a thousand times.  Her hair became disentangled from its ligaments, and flowed in waving ringlets about her snowy, panting bosom.  Exhausted with continual agitation, and particularly with the last struggle, she seemed ready to faint, but was quickly restored by the assiduity of these sordid grooms.

Before she had completely recovered her recollection, lord Martin had seated himself in the carriage, and was drawing up some of the blinds.  “Drive on,” said he to the coachman, who was by this time mounted into the box, “Drive, as if the devil was behind you.”  The cavalcade accordingly went forward.  There was a servant on each side of the carriage, beside the commander in chief, who occasionally advanced in the front, and occasionally brought up the rear.

“And whither,” said the affrighted Delia, “whither are we going?  This cannot be the way to Southampton.  What do you mean?  But ah, it is too plain!  Why else this impotence of insult?” endeavouring to disengage her hands.  And she turned from him in a rage of indignation.  “Ah,” cried his lordship, “do not avert those brilliant eyes!  Turn them towards me, and they will outshine the lustre of the morn,