And, jumping down from the saddle, he presented the whip to Mrs. Calverley, who gracefully acknowledged the attention.
“We are really very much indebted to you, sir,” she said.
“You greatly overrate the service,” he rejoined. “I have literally done nothing. Hearing cries, and perceiving you were stopped by robbers, I galloped on to your aid—that is all.”
“May we learn the name of our deliverer?” she asked.
“I am Captain Charles Danvers,” he replied; “nephew to Sir Lycester Barfleur, of Brackley Hall, which you can see through the trees yonder. But I dare say you know the place?”
“We were on our way thither, to call on Lady Barfleur, when we met with this alarming adventure,” observed Mrs. Calverley.
An idea seemed suddenly to occur to Captain Danvers.
“Are you not Mrs. Calverley, of Ouselcroft?” he inquired.
She replied in the affirmative; adding, “And this is my step-daughter, Miss Calverley.”
“I felt convinced of it!” he cried, again bowing. “I am indeed fortunate in obtaining an introduction to a young lady of whom I have heard so much.”