I am here.

I am helpless.
Let no prayers stay your hand.

Go to it." "Have done with this!" cried Wynchgate, with a brutal oath.

"Shove her in the coach." But at the very moment the sound of hurrying footsteps was heard, and a clear, ringing, manly, well-toned, vibrating voice cried, "Hold! Stop! Desist! Have a care, titled villain, or I will strike you to the earth." A tall aristocratic form bounded out of the darkness.
"Gentlemen," cried Wynchgate, releasing his hold upon the frightened girl, "we are betrayed.

Save yourselves.