The travellers had sunk down just within the gates, so breathless and exhausted that for the first few seconds they did not even know how and by whom their rescue had been effected.  But the banging to of the gates, and the sullen murmurs of the highwaymen as they had drawn off, recognizing their defeat, showed those within that for the moment the peril was past.  The doors were then thrown open; lights streamed forth into the darkness.  Sir Richard Trevlyn rose to his feet, passing his hand across his brow, to find his son passionately embracing the dark-eyed Petronella, who clung to him, fairly sobbing in her excitement and wonder; whilst Kate knelt beside the prostrate figure of Culverhouse, who lay with closed eyes almost like one dead.

“Kate, my girl, is it to thee we owe our deliverance?”

“Father, is he dead—­is he dead?”

The cry was so full of anguish that it went to the father’s heart; and disregarding the shrill welcome and asseverations of Mistress Dowsabel, who had just recognized, to her immense relief, that they had admitted their own kinsmen to their doors, he bent over the Viscount, and lifted him in his arms.

“Dead! not a bit of it.  Dead men do not ride as he did.  But he was wounded in the arm, and has been losing blood fast, and doubtless fainted the moment the strain was over.  See, we will lay him here on this settle beside the fire.  Give him some wine, and bind up that arm, my girl.  Thou wilt choose to wait upon him thyself, I trow.  He will soon be able to thank thee for this timely rescue.  I must hear more of thy tale when I have spoken with thine aunt.”

All was confusion now in the house, but confusion of a pleasant and bustling kind.  Joshua brought news that the highwaymen had retreated in disappointment and dudgeon, but, true to their principles, without any attempt at taking vengeance upon the Cross Way House.  Sir Richard was striving to soothe the agitation of the timid Dowsabel, and hearing of the absence of the mistress of the house; whilst servants hurried to and fro, setting the table for supper, and vying with each other to provide comforts for the weary travellers, who had been through so much peril and hard riding.

Petronella sat beside Philip in a deep embrasure, and had eyes and ears for him alone.  Kate and Cherry, under the direction of Dyson, bound up Lord Culverhouse’s arm, and soon had the satisfaction of seeing the colour come back into his face, and his closed eyes slowly open.

When they did this they dwelt for some moments upon Kate’s face in a dreamy fashion, as though their owner thought himself still in some sort of a dream; but when she raised his head and put a cup to his lips, he seemed to awake with a start, and after thirstily draining the contents of the vessel, he caught her hand, exclaiming: 

“Kate—­my Kate!—­is it truly thou?”

She gave a little cry of joy at hearing him speak in tones so like his own.  He pressed the hand he held, whilst she knelt beside him and whispered softly in his ear: