"You are not going to leave us, sir?" he asked Cloudesley, catching
sight of the ensign.
"I am under the necessity of doing so."
"But you are not able to travel--you can scarcely sit your horse. Pray
do not think of leaving us."
"You are a soldier--at least an amateur one, and you will understand
that after what has occurred, I must not seem to hide myself like a
fugitive from justice! In short, I must go and answer for that which I
have done."
"I understand, but really, sir, you look very ill--you--"
But here the young officer held out his hand smilingly, took leave of
Cloudesley, and bowing low to Edith, rode off.
Cloudesley and Edith followed the gallant fellow with their eyes. He had
nearly reached the gate, the old green gate at the farthest end of the
semi-circular avenue, when the horse stopped, the rider reeled and fell
from his saddle. Cloudesley and Edith ran toward him--reached him.
Cloudesley disentangled his foot from the stirrup, and raised him in his
arms. Edith stood pale and breathless by.
"He has fainted! I knew he was suffering extreme pain. Edith! fly and
get some water! Or rather here! sit down and hold up his head while I
go."
Edith was quickly down by the side of her preserver, supporting his
head upon her breast.
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