“I was close here; and, as I jumped over the fence, I heard them shout again; but I think they cannot see so far; the night was moonlight, to be sure, but that is all; the shadow of the hedge, and the distance together, would make it, if not impossible, at least very improbable.”

“That is very likely,” said Mrs. Bannerworth.

“In that case,” said Charles Holland, “you are safe here; for none will suspect your being concealed here.”

“It is the last place I should myself have thought of,” said Varney; “and I may say the last place I would knowingly have come to; but had I before known enough of you, I should have been well assured of your generosity, and have freely come to claim your aid and shelter, which accident has so strangely brought me to be a candidate for, and which you have so kindly awarded me.”

“The night is wearing away,” said Flora, “and Sir Francis is doubtless fatigued to an excess; sleep, I dare say, will be most welcome to him.”

“It will indeed, Miss Bannerworth,” said Varney; “but I can do that under any circumstances; do not let me put you to any inconvenience; a chair, and at any hour, will serve me for sleep.”

“We cannot do for you what we would wish,” said Flora, looking at her mother; “but something better than that, at all events, we can and will provide for you.”

“I know not how to thank you,” said Sir Francis Varney; “I assure you, of late I have not been luxuriously lodged, and the less trouble I give you the greater I shall esteem the favour.”

The hour was late, and Sir Francis Varney, before another half hour had elapsed, was consigned to his own reflections, in a small but neat room, there to repose his bruised and battered carcass, and court the refreshing influence of sleep.

His reflections were, for nearly an hour, of the most contradictory character; some one passion was trying to overcome the other; but he seemed quite subdued.

“I could not have expected this,” he muttered; “Flora Bannerworth has the soul of a heroine.  I deserved not such a reception from them; and yet, in my hour of utmost need, they have received me like a favoured friend; and yet all their misfortunes have taken their origin from me; I am the cause of all.”

Filled with these thoughts, he fell asleep; he slept till morning broke.  He was not disturbed; it seemed as though the influence of sleep was sweeter far there, in the cottage of the Bannerworths, than ever he had before received.

It was late on that morning before Sir Francis rose, and then only through hearing the family about, and, having performed his toilet, so far as circumstances permitted, he descended, and entered the front-parlour, the room he had been in the night before.

Flora Bannerworth was already there; indeed, breakfast was waiting the appearance of Sir Francis Varney.

“Good morning, Miss Bannerworth,” said Sir Francis, bowing with his usual dignified manner, but in the kindest and sincerest way he was able to assume.