frenzied effort from the rude grasp in which she was held by an athletic young man, sprang wildly towards it, and with passionate intreaty implored mercy and protection.  The young man, a son of Mrs. Brandon’s by a former husband, immediately re-seized her; and with fierce violence endeavored to wrench her hand from the handle of the carriage door, which she clutched with desperate tenacity.  The door flew open, the sudden jerk disengaged her hold, and she struggled vainly in her captor’s powerful grasp.  “Save me! save me!” she frantically exclaimed, as she felt herself borne off.  “You who are, they say, as kind and good as you are beautiful and happy, save me from this cruel man!”

Lady Compton, inexpressibly shocked by the piteous spectacle presented by the unhappy girl—­her scanty clothing soiled, disarrayed, and torn by the violence of her struggles; her long flaxen tresses flowing disorderly over her face and neck in tangled dishevelment; and the pale, haggard, wild expression of her countenance—­was for a few moments incapable of speech.  Her sister was more collected:  “Violet,” she instantly remonstrated, “do not permit this brutal violence.”

“What right has she or any one to interfere with us?” demanded the young man savagely.  “This girl is Major Brandon’s ward, as well as niece, and shall return to her lawful home!  Stand back,” continued he, addressing the servants, who, at a gesture from Miss Dalston, barred his progress.  “Withstand me at your peril!”

“Force her from him!” exclaimed Lady Compton, recovering her voice.  “Gently! gently!  I will be answerable for her safe custody till the morning.”

The athletic fellow struggled desperately; but however powerful and determined, he was only one man against a score, nearly all the bystanders being tenants or laborers on the Compton estates; and spite of his furious efforts, and menaces of law and vengeance, Clara was torn from him in a twinkling, and himself hurled with some violence prostrate on the road.  “Do not let them hurt the man,” said Lady Compton, as the servants placed the insensible girl in the carriage (she had fainted); “and tell him that if he has really any legal claim to the custody of this unfortunate person, he must prefer it in the morning.”

Immediately on arrival at the castle, the escaped prisoner was conveyed to bed, and medical aid instantly summoned.  When restored to consciousness, whether from the effect of an excess of fever producing temporary delirium, or from confirmed mental disease, her speech was altogether wild and incoherent—­the only at all consistent portions of her ravings being piteously—­iterated appeals to Lady Compton not to surrender her to her aunt in-law, Mrs. Brandon, of whom she seemed to entertain an overpowering, indefinable dread.  It was evident she had been subjected to extremely brutal treatment—­such as, in these days of improved legislation in such matters, and greatly advanced knowledge of the origin and remedy