He was no sooner, however, perceived, than a couple of the dismounted soldiers stepped forward and made a prisoner of him.

“Good God!” exclaimed Mr. Chillingworth, as they approached nearer with him.  “Good God! what is the meaning of that?  Do my eyes deceive me, or are they, indeed, so blessed?”

“Blessed by what?” exclaimed the hangman.

“By a sight of the long lost, deeply regretted Charles Holland.  Charles—­Charles, is that indeed you, or some unsubstantial form in your likeness?”

Charles Holland, for it was, indeed, himself, heard the friendly voice of the doctor, and he called out to him.

“Speak to me of Flora.  Oh, speak to me of Flora, if you would not have me die at once of suspense, and all the torture of apprehension.”

“She lives and is well.”

“Thank Heaven.  Do with me what you please.”

Dr. Chillingworth sprang forward, and addressing the magistrate, he said,—­

“Sir, I know this gentleman.  He is no one of the rioters, but a dear friend of the family of the Bannerworths.  Charles Holland, what in the name of Heaven had become of you so long, and what brought you here at such a juncture as this?”

“I am faint,” said Charles; “I—­I only arrived as the crowd did.  I had not strength to fight my way through them, and was compelled to pause until they had dispersed Can—­can you give me water?”

“Here’s something better,” said one of the soldiers, as he handed a flask to Charles, who partook of some of the contents, which greatly revived him, indeed.

“I am better now,” he said.  “Thank you kindly.  Take me into the house.  Good God! why is it made a point of attack?  Where are Flora and Henry?  Are they all well?  And my uncle?  Oh! what must you all have thought of my absence!  But you cannot have endured a hundredth part of what I have suffered.  Let me look once again upon the face of Flora.  Take me into the house.”

“Release him,” said the officer, as he pointed to his head, and looked significantly, as much as to say, “Some mad patient of yours, I suppose.”

“You are much mistaken, sir,” said Dr. Chillingworth; “this gentleman has been cruelly used, I have no doubt.  He has, I am inclined to believe, been made the victim, for a time, of the intrigues of that very Sir Francis Varney, whose conduct has been the real cause of all the serious disturbances that have taken place in the country.”

“Confound Sir Francis Varney,” muttered the officer; “he is enough to set a whole nation by the ears.  However, Mr. Magistrate, if you are satisfied that this young man is not one of the rioters, I have, of course, no wish to hold him a prisoner.”

“I can take Mr. Chillingworth’s word for more than that,” said the magistrate.

Charles Holland was accordingly released, and then the doctor, in hurried accents, told him the principal outlines of what had occurred.