Earles would permit. At length, however, by dealing blows right and left with their swords, and even inflicting severe cuts on the foremost of the rabble, the soldiers managed to gain a clear course, and to drive back the assailants; who, as they retreated behind the barricades, shouted in tones of defiance, "To Tyburn! to Tyburn!" The object of all this tumult, meanwhile, never altered his position, but sat back in the cart, as if resolved not to make even a struggle to regain his liberty. She pointed hither and yon, smiled and shook her head. But the objects in his range of vision remained unchanged. She had to school herself to speak the words which she knew would cut him like a knife. “Forgive me,” he decided to say at last, and his voice had a little quiver of emotion, and he laid his hand on hers upon her knee. "Sir Rowland is your uncle—he will be your guardian—he will protect you.
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