"Ah!" I cried, relieved.
He gave me details of the struggle, which I need not write down here, and which I thought, in spite of the fact that he seemed to hide the truth, told that he had fought well.
"And did not this hermit help you?"
"Michael is weaker than a child," replied Anthony, "he did nothing but pray."
"And how long since this took place?"
"Four hours ago."
"Four hours!—only?"
"That is all."
"They can be followed, she can be delivered!"
"No, no," murmured Uncle Anthony; "tell me, Roger Trevanion, why would you deliver her?"