jury if you venture back where the herd of wild cattle grazed—If you will go"—for, having once adopted the idea that her father was still in danger, she pressed forward in spite of him—"if you will go, accept my arm, though I am not perhaps the person who can with most propriety offer you support."
But, without heeding this intimation, Lucy took him at his word. "O if you be a man," she said,—"if you be a gentleman, assist me to find my father—You shall not leave me—you must go with me—he is dying perhaps while we are talking here."
Then, without listening to excuse or apology, and holding fast by the stranger's arm, though unconscious of any thing save the support which it gave, and without which she could not have moved, mixed with a vague feeling of preventing his escape from her, she was urging, and almost dragging him forward, when Sir William Ashton came up, followed by the
