With which, he grasped her around the waist, lifted her as if she were a child, and started with her toward the coach.  The footman, a huge fellow, adopted similar measures with the waiting-woman, who set up a shrill screaming that made needless any cries on Madge’s part.

Philip and I dashed forward at this, and while I fell upon the footman, Phil staggered the captain with a blow.  As Falconer turned with an exclamation, to see by whom he was attacked, Madge tore herself from his relaxed hold, ran to the house door, and set the knocker going at its loudest.  A second blow from Philip sent the captain reeling against his coach wheel.  I, meanwhile, had drawn the footman from the maid; who now joined her mistress and continued shrieking at the top of her voice.  The fellow, seeing his master momentarily in a daze, and being alarmed by the knocking and screaming, was put at a loss.  The house door opening, and the noise bringing people to their windows, and gentlemen rushing out of Jack’s tavern hard by, Master Richard recovered from his irresolution, ran and forced his master into the coach, got in after him to keep him there, and shouted to the coachman to drive off.

“Very well, madam,” cried Falconer through the coach door, before it closed with a bang, “but I’ll keep my word yet, I promise you!” Whereupon, the coach rolled away behind galloping horses.

Forgetting, in the moment’s excitement, my intention of dogging the captain to his residence, I accompanied Philip to the doorway, where stood Madge with her maid and a house servant.  She was waiting to thank her protectors, whom, in the rush and partial darkness, she had not yet recognised.  It was, indeed, far from her thoughts that we two, whom she had left so many years before in America, should turn up at her side in London at such a moment.

We took off our hats, and bowed.  Her face had already formed a smile of thanks, when we raised our heads into the light from a candle the house servant carried.  Madge gave a little startled cry of joy, and looked from one to the other of us to make sure she was not under a delusion:  then fondly murmuring Phil’s name and mine in what faint voice was left her, she made first as if she would fall into his arms; but recollecting with a look of pain how matters stood between them, she drew back, steadied herself against the door-post, and dropped her eyes from his.

“We should like to talk with you a little, my dear,” said Phil gently.  “May we come in?”

There was a gleam of new-lighted hope in her eyes as she looked up and answered tremulously: 

“’Twill be a happiness—­more than I dared expect.”

We followed the servant with the candle up-stairs to a small drawing-room, in which a table was set with bread, cheese, cold beef, and a bottle of claret.

“’Tis my supper,” said Madge.  “If I had known I should have such guests—­you will do me the honour, will you not?”