Now, bind his mouth, Sarah.

There! I think that will do." Bound hands, and eyes, and mouth, half suffocated, wholly blinded, the Reverend Raymond Rashleigh was a pitiable object at that instant.

But there was no one to pity him, no one to see him, no one to help him.
The carriage whirled on, and on, and on at dizzy speed, the wind sighing by in long, lamentable gales, the rain dashing clamorously against the closed glass.
Paralyzed with intense terror, Mr.Rashleigh sat trembling to that extent that he threatened to topple off his seat.
"Pray calm yourself, my reverend friend," said that masculine voice beside him.

"No personal harm is intended you, and I have no designs upon your watch and purse.

I merely want the loan of you in your clerical capacity, to perform the ceremony of marriage over a runaway couple.