"You are saved, dear Edith!" he said. "You are saved!"
He could not call her Miss Prevost then; and though she heard the name he gave her, at that moment of gratitude and thanksgiving it sounded only sweetly on her ear.
"Thank God! thank God!" said Edith; "and oh, my lord, how can I ever show my gratitude to you?"
Lord H---- was silent for a moment, and then said in a low tone--for it would be spoken: "Dear Edith, I have no claim to gratitude; but if you can give me love instead, the gratitude shall be yours for life. But I am wrong, very wrong, for speaking to you thus at this moment, and in these circumstances. Yet there are emotions which force themselves into words whether we will or not. Forget those I have spoken, and do not tremble so, for they shall be no more repeated till I find a fitter occasion--then they shall immediately. Now, dear Edith, I will ride slowly on with you to this farmhouse, will leave you there with the good people, and, if possible, get somebody to guide me round another way to join your father, and assure him of your safety. That he is safe I feel certain, for this very change of wind must have driven the fire away from him. Would you rather walk? For I am afraid you have an uneasy seat, and we are quite safe now; the flames will go another way."
From many motives Edith preferred to go on foot, and Lord H---- suffered her to slip gently to the ground. Then dismounting himself, he drew her arm within his own, and leading his horse by the bridle, proceeded along the road over the shoulder of the hill, leaving the lower road, which the flame still menaced, on their left Edith needed support, and their progress was slow, but Lord H---- touched no more upon any subject that could agitate her, and at the end of about an hour and a half they reached the farmhouse, and knocked for admission.
There was no answer, however. No dogs barked, no sounds were heard, and all was dark within. Lord H---- knocked again. Still all was silent; and putting his hand upon the latch, he opened the door.
"The house seems deserted," he said; and then, raising his voice, he called loudly, to wake any slumbering inhabitant who might be within. Still no answer was returned, and he felt puzzled and more agitated than he would have been in the presence of any real danger. There was no other place of shelter near; he could not leave Edith there, as he had proposed; and yet the thought of passing a long night with her in that deserted house produced a feeling of indecision, checkered by many emotions which were not usual to him.
"This is most unlucky," he said. "What is to be done now?"
"I know not," said Edith, in a low and distressed tone. "I fear, indeed, the good people are gone. If the moon would but rise, we might see what is really in the house."
"I can get a light," replied Lord H----. "There is wood enough scattered about to light a fire. Stay here in the doorway while I fasten my horse and gather some sticks together. I will not go out of sight." The sticks were soon gathered and carried to the large kitchen, into which the door opened directly. Lord H----'s pistol, which he took from the holsters, afforded the means of lighting a cheerful fire on the hearth, and as soon as it blazed up a number of objects were seen in the room which showed that the house had been inhabited lately, and abandoned suddenly. Little of the furniture seemed to have been carried away, indeed; and amongst the first things that were perceived, much to Edith's comfort, were candles and a tin lamp of Dutch manufacture, ready trimmed. These were soon lighted, and Lord H----, taking his fair companion's hand in his, and gazing fondly on her pale and weary face, begged her to seek some repose. "I cannot, of course," he said, "leave you here and seek your father, as I proposed just now; but if you will go upstairs, and seek some room where you can lock yourself in, in case of danger, I will keep guard here below. Most likely all the people of the house have gone forth to watch the progress of the fire, and may return speedily."