I loved him in a way you can hardly understand.

Yes, he was a brave man,--my poor old friend." On the rustic bench beside the driveway overlooking the river sat a little woman, older by ten years in the two hours which had elapsed since she looked after the disappearing figure of her son.
She heard the sound of wheels upon the gravel road, and recognized Colonel Wilton's carriage and horses coming up the hill; there were her own two horses following after, but neither of the riders was her son.
What could have happened?
She rose in alarm.

The carriage stopped near her.
"What, mother, are you still here ?" said Hilary, opening the door and stepping out, his voice cold and stern.
"Yes, my son; what has happened ?" "Dunmore's men have raided the Wilton place.

Katharine and her father have been carried away by that brute Johnson, who commanded the party.
Seymour has been wounded in defending Katharine.

I have brought him here.