urged Caroline to remain for yet a little while:  I, who some days ago was so fearful of remaining, so anxious to depart.  Nor is it solely an inclination to linger near that dear boy, although I own the sight of him has been to me like the foretaste of a new existence.  Bless him for me, my friend—­bless him for me!  But I found that the dear wild girl who is with me had neither ceased to love, nor ceased entirely to hope.  In the last letter she received, mingled with reproaches for coming hither, there was every now and then a burst of tenderness and affection which made her trust, and me almost believe, that all good and honourable feeling is not extinct.  She thinks that if she could see him, the better angel might gain the dominion, and I have not only counselled her to remain yet a little while, but also even to go to London should it be required.  While we were talking over all these things,” the letter proceeded, “just after you were gone, we heard a fresh arrival at this house, and, as I thought, a woman’s voice speaking in tones of remonstrance and complaint.  I have this morning learned who it is, and now write in great haste to ask you if these things are right in any cause, or if you can have anything to do with it.  I will not believe it, Lennard—­I will not believe it.  Rash as you have been in choosing your own fate—­hasty as you have been in all things connected with yourself—­you would not, I am sure, countenance a thing that is cruel as well as criminal.”

Green laughed bitterly.  “I am forced,” he said, “to bear much that I would not countenance.  But look here—­she goes on to say that it is the daughter of the Duke.  ‘Young, and beautiful, and gentle,’ she says—­that matches well, does it not, Wilton, ha?—­I Who has been torn from her father, the Duke of Gaveston, in this daring and shameful manner, and brought hither by water with the intention, as I believe, of sending her over to France in the ship that we have hired.  I have seen her twice, and spoken with her for some time, and I beseech you, if it be possible, find means of setting her free.’—­Ay, but how may that be?” continued Green.  “If they have got her, and risk their necks to have her, they will take care to keep her sure.  They have men enough for that purpose, and they have taken care to render me nearly powerless.”

“I should have thought,” replied Wilton, whose joy at the discovery of where Laura really was had instantly blown up the flame of hope so brightly, that objects distant and difficult to be reached seemed by that light to be close at hand—­“I should have thought, from what I have seen and what I suspect, that you could have commanded a sufficient force at any moment to set all opposition at defiance, especially when you were engaged in a lawful and generous cause.”