Her shrieks answered him.  He clapped his handkerchief upon her mouth.

“Uncle! uncle! save me!”

She was half stifled—­she felt breath and strength failing.  Her brutal assailant was hauling her away, with a force to which she could no longer oppose resistance; and with a single half-ejaculated prayer—­“Oh, God! be merciful!” she sunk senselessly at his feet, even as a falling corse.

CHAPTER XXI.

“THOU SHALT DO NO MURDER!”

Even at this moment, Munro entered the apartment.  He came not a moment too soon.  Rivers had abused his opportunity thus far; and it is not to be doubted that he would have forborne none of the advantages which his brute strength afforded him over the feeble innocent, were it not for the interposition of the uncle.  He had lied, when he had asserted to the girl the sanction of the uncle for his threatened crime.  Munro was willing that his niece should become the wife of the outlaw, and barely willing to consent even to this; but for anything less than this—­base as he was—­he would sooner have braved every issue with the ruffian, and perished himself in defence of the girl’s virtue.  He had his pride of family, strange to say, though nursed and nestled in a bosom which could boast no other virtue.

The moment he saw the condition of Lucy, with the grasp of Rivers still upon her, he tore her away with the strength of a giant.

“What have you been doing, Guy?”

His keen and suspicious glance of eye conveyed the question more significantly.

“Nothing! she is a fool only!”

“And you have been a brute!  Beware!  I tell you, Guy Rivers, if you but ruffle the hair of this child in violence, I will knife you, as soon as I would my worst enemy.”

“Pshaw!  I only threatened her to make her confess where she had sent Colleton or hidden him.”

“Ay, but there are some threats, Guy, that call for throat-cutting.  Look to it.  We know each other; and you know that, though I’m willing you should marry Lucy, I’ll not stand by and see you harm her; and, with my permission you lay no hands on her, until you are married.”

“Very well!” answered the ruffian sullenly, and turning away, “see that you get the priest soon ready.  I’ll wait upon neither man nor woman over long!  You sha’n’t trifle with me much longer.”

To this speech Munro made no answer.  He devoted himself to his still insensible niece, whom he raised carefully from the floor, and laid her upon a rude settee that stood in the apartment.  She meanwhile remained unconscious of his care, which was limited to fanning her face and sprinkling water upon it.

“Why not carry her to her chamber—­put her in bed, and let us be off?” said Rivers.

“Wait awhile!” was the answer.

The girl had evidently received a severe shock.  Munro shook his head, and looked at Rivers angrily.