On that same evening, about nine o'clock, two individuals, who had recently alighted from a hired carriage at no great distance from Brackley Hall, and had contrived to cross both bridges, traverse the courtyard, and get into the garden—these two persons, we say, were standing near a yew-tree alley, looking towards the ancient mansion, which could be distinguished through the gloom, with its picturesque outline of gables and windows.

There were lights in some of the windows, but the general appearance of the house was exceedingly sombre.

Fortunately for the two individuals we have mentioned, there were no dogs in the court-yard. These protectors were all with the keeper, Ned Rushton. Not even a watch-dog was kept at the Hall, so that no alarm was given.

“Well, I think you may succeed in your design,” said one of the pair, “if you can only contrive to get the girl out of the house. There's the difficulty. The carriage is not more than a quarter of a mile off.”

“We must have it much closer at hand presently,” replied the other. “I wonder we haven't seen Lomax. He ought to be here by this time. I hope he has not played us false. Let us go towards the house.”

On this, they quitted the garden, crossed the moat, and re-entered the court—proceeding with the utmost caution. But there did not seem any one about.

However, they soon discovered that some slight preparations had been made for them.

Reared against the side of the house was a ladder which could easily be shifted to any other spot that was required; and not far from the ladder was an open bay-window without curtains, in the deep recess of which window a candle was set, that illuminated the chamber, and showed Rose was its sole occupant.

This arrangement of things appeared so promising, that it almost looked like a snare.

But Romney did not hesitate. Without giving himself a moment for reflection, he carried the ladder to the open window, mounted as quickly as he could, and sprang into the room, followed by Sigebert.

On seeing them, Rose flew towards the door, but was instantly followed by Romney, who fastened a scarf over her mouth, so as to stifle her cries.

All this was executed with wonderful success, but it is quite possible Rose might have made more noise if she had thought proper. She did not even struggle much when they proceeded to take her through the window.

“She goes very quietly,” thought Sigebert. “I believe we shall have no trouble whatever with her. In my opinion, she's not at all disinclined to be carried off.”

Having got first down the ladder, Sigebert received the precious burden from his principal; but, as soon as Romney landed, he once more took charge of the fair damsel, and endeavoured to get her out of the court.

Hitherto, she had been quiet enough; but she now made a grand disturbance.

She quickly succeeded in tearing the scarf from her face, and then the court rang with her cries; in answer to which came forth Harry Netterville and Tom Tankard, who had been hidden in the old chapel. Each being armed with a stout stick, they soundly belaboured both rascals.

After a while, both caitiffs were released, but only for a worse punishment. As they were running off, in the hope of gaining their carriage, they were stopped by Chetwynd, and taken in charge by a couple of police officers, by whom they were conveyed in their own carriage to Knutsford, where they were locked up in the gaol.