"But what was it?—what happened?"
"Nothing to fear, sir—nothing at all, general;—I am thankful to say, that all I saw, and all we all saw, was Miss Emily pulling at the bell-rope with blood upon her face, and Mr. Julian on the floor: but I took the young lady to Sir Abraham's immediately, general, at her own desire."
The father arose sternly; his first feeling was to kill Julian; but the second, a far better one, predominated—he must go and see Emily at once.
So, faintly leaning on the butler's arm, the poor old man (whom a moiety of ten minutes, with its crowding fears, had made to look some ten years older,) proceeded to the square, and knocked up Sir Abraham at midnight, and the admiral came down, half asleep, in dressing-gown and slippers, vexed at having been knocked up from his warm berth so uncomfortably: it put him sorely in remembrance of his hardships as a middy.
"Kind neighbour, thank you, thank you; where's Emmy? take me to my Emmy;" and the iron-hearted veteran wept like a driveller.
Sir Abraham looked at him queerly: and then, in a cheerful, friendly way, replied—
"Dear general, do not be so moved: the girl's quite safe with us; you'll see her to-morrow morning. All's right; she was only frightened, and George has given the fellow a proper good licking: and the girl's a-bed, you know; and, eh? what?"—
For the poor old man, like one bereaved, said, supplicatingly—
"In mercy take me to her—precious child!"
"My dear sir—pray consider—it's impossible; fine girl, you know;—Lady Tamworth, too—can't be, can't be, you know, general."