CHAP. XI.

My Dear Sir,Jamaica.

Our worthy and zealous friend Mr. Paget having spared me the painful detail of events, which, of late, have rendered this abode of peace one of sorrow and consternation, I will employ my pen on subjects of better and renewed hopes. In the first place, Lady Maclairn will be soothed by hearing, that Philip is the father of a fine healthy boy; and that the mother is doing well, and already the nurse. She has been cautiously told ofMr. Flamall’s death; and thus the suspense and alarm avoided, that would have been occasioned by her seeing her husband’s dejection, which was but too apparent, in spite of his endeavours. We must give him credit for more sensibility on this melancholy occasion, than we feel ourselves. To say the truth, the termination of a life passed without honour or satisfaction, is, in my opinion, little entitled to the tear of affection; although the means, which Flamall employed for the purpose, are appalling to nature and to the Christian. It is a happy circumstance for my brother, that he has uniformly conducted himself in respect to his uncle, so as to have secured his own self acquittal. This, with the prospect of happiness, before his eyes, will, in time, restore him. We shall, however, wait with anxiety for news from Farefield. Had not his wife’s critical situation checked his solicitude for his mother, I believe we could not haveprevented his undertaking the voyage to England, for the purpose of supporting her, in the trial which nearly overset himself.

I beg you to be particular in your account of Lady Maclairn’s health, as also Miss Flint’s.

Let Miss Cowley be assured, that her concerns will suffer nothing from the loss ofher agent. We have been fortunate in having with us aMr. Montrose; this gentleman is the early friend of Philip and Margaret; and is brother to Mrs. Lindsey, my sister’s first nurse, and constant companion at present.

Montrose makes a better consoler than myself. I therefore yield up to him this office; as being his by profession; and no man can better know, and perform his duty. I have not, however, been idle. The attested papers you will receive with this, will inform you that all has been done that could be done. Flamall’s late gloomand the evidence of the servants, induced the coroner’s inquest to give in a verdict of lunacy. We have discovered no letters nor papers of consequence, to his private concerns; and one letter excepted, of a recent date, from his banker, which mentions his having received the half year’s interest of five thousand pounds Bank stock: this of course devolves to his sister. I cannot conclude this letter, without telling you, that I believe, from the order in which all Flamall’s accounts were, that he has, for sometime, been meditating how to escape from a world, in which he knew he was regarded with contempt. You may think me too harsh; be it so. But believe me sincere and honest, and

Your’s to command,Francis Sinclair.

Your’s to command,

Francis Sinclair.

LETTER LXIX.From Dr. Douglass to Mr. Hardcastle.

Farefield, Dec. 30.

I conjure you, my dear Sir, to rely on my assurances. Miss Cowley is entirely out of danger. We have a decided intermission, and are hourly gaining on the enemy. But I will not disguise my fears, for the consequences which will probably result from you and Miss Hardcastle’s visit here at this time. The truth is, that as terror and exertions beyond Miss Cowley’s strength, produced the fever, it is my opinion, that joy, and a new demand on her feelings, will producea return of it. Calmness and repose are necessary to give efficacy to the medicines which have hitherto been useful, and I entreat of you,to postpone your journey, till my patient is more able to welcome you.

To say what this young creature’s fortitude has been, is beyond my abilities! I only know, that I shall in future blush, when I hear strength of mind called amasculine endowment.

You will easily imagine, how little prepared she was, after the attention and exertions she had shown to Lady Maclairn, to sustain the sudden terror, which Miss Flint’s death produced. Every precaution had been used to prevent the intelligence of Mr. Flamall’s death, from reaching the dying woman. She was so weak, as to bear with apathy her sister’s absence from the room; indeed, she noticed little those who were about her, being for the most part in a lethargic stupor, and gradually sinking. In the neighbourhood it was, however, no secret that Mr. Flamall haddied suddenly. Warner, Miss Flint’s woman, had in the morning lefther post to a chamber maid, in order to get some repose. This girl’s mother had been frequently employed in the sick room, and she, on calling to see her daughter, was directed where to find her. Miss Flint was heavily dozing, and the women, though with precaution,as they say, talked of poor Lady Maclairn’s illness, and the melancholy news from Jamaica. The visitor had heard the report, which has circulated here, and which a London newspaper has communicated to the public. Namely, that, “Mr. Flamall was assassinated by a negro, whom he had too severely treated.” I suspect the precaution of whispering this tale was forgotten, in the eagerness of curiosity and the love of the marvellous. Suddenly, they were alarmed by a faint scream from the sick woman, who, with convulsive groans and agitations, said, “dead! murdered! lost! for ever lost! Flamall!” Screams followed this apostrophe, and theterrified girl ran to Miss Cowley’s room. She was unfortunately sleeping on the sopha, after having passed the greater part of the night by Lady Maclairn´s bed side. She rose with firmness, to perform the duty to which she was summoned; not permitting Mrs. Allen to be informed of what was passing; because she was with Lady Maclairn. I found her calm and collected; sitting by the dying Miss Flint, whose senses were lost before she ceased to breathe. Let me finish this melancholy detail, by saying, that I did not quit Miss Cowley’s bed side for the space of six and thirty hours. Heaven was merciful! and she will be restored to health. But we must have no beloved friends to greet at present.

I quit you to obey the summons of mypreciouspatient. She insists upon signing this bulletin. She will soon be well; for she is growing saucy, and this morning, at four o’clock, when I carried her theprescribed potion, she told me “that in my night cap and gown, I was the very image of Blue Beard; and still more savage than he; for, that his scymitar was nothing in comparison with my glass of poison.” Judge with what contentment of mind I now sign the name of your sincere

Archibald Douglass.

P.S. Indeed, my dear Lucy, I am getting well. They tell me, the wind is still against the Lisbon packet’s sailing. How fortunate I am! There! the whole junto are rising! and the inkstand has vanished. Your’s! your own R. Cowley is, indeed, only too weak to mutiny against this authority.

LETTER LXX.From Miss Cowley to Miss Hardcastle.

It is with gratitude to Heaven, that I find my dear friends at Heathcot, are relieved from their too tender anxieties and apprehensions on my account, yet wherefore do I say “too tender,” I recall the words, my Lucy, which my heart does not sanction, and I will not assume a virtue I have not; I give you joy, that death has spared to you your Rachel Cowley. I rejoice in your love; and I participate in your present feelings. Your goodness to Horace has contributed towards my restoration. I should have died, had you mentioned your terrors to him.

I have written to him the state of affairs here. He will be satisfied, that the recentevents, in which I have been engaged, occasioned the brevity of my letter.

Mrs. Heartley sends her love to you with the enclosed: she insists, that you will be better pleased with it, than withmy labours. They have, amongst them, annihilated the self will of your

Rachel Cowley.

(Enclosed in the preceding.)

Madam,Putney.

I make no doubt, but that you have heard Mr. Maclairn mention his friend Jeremiah Serge; and that you are convinced,I mean to deserve my title. I shall, therefore, enter into the business before us at once. Herewith you will receive the deeds, which secure to your daughter and her children the estate called the Wenland Farm, now occupied by Malcolm Maclairn; the day she becomes that gentleman’s wife, he is her tenant and his children’s steward. Counsellor Steadman has managed this affair for me, to my entire satisfaction, and I trust it will not be less so to my young friend.

I have, for the first time, during many long weeks, felt that the Almighty has yet the means in his hands with which to heal my wounds. I never, Mrs. Heartley, had a son; I have not, like Sir Murdoch, had a son like his Malcolm, to follow me in my feeble steps, with duty and affection; nor try to perpetuate my name, and his own virtues to children unborn; but I had a child, who was, whilst she lived, the joy and the prop of my life!But you know what I have had to suffer! I am forgetting the object of this letter.

From the first hour I knew Mr. Malcolm Maclairn, I took a liking to him; this goodwill was, in part, owing to the favourable character I had of him from my excellent friend, Counsellor Steadman. Some particulars I learned from this gentleman, led me to think that it was in my power to serve this worthy young man; and with this intention, andother thoughtsin my mind, I paid my visit to Farefield Hall. I was in part disappointed in my scheme; but I saw the young man wasall, andmore, than I expected, and I gave him my heart, though I could not give him my daughter’s hand. I thought I had explained myself to his good father, in regard to my views in assisting the son; but I perceived, that Sir Murdoch had a little of the infirmity, which is common to men of high birth; so I consulted thecounsellor, and did what I could without offending the baronet’s high spirit.

Believing that you are a very judicious lady, I request from you the favour, in case you should see the good baronet’s scruples, to say what, in truth, you may affirm, that you perceive nothing in my conduct, that ought either to offend, or surprise him.

Some men, with less wealth than I possess, keep fine houses, fine madams, and fine horses; buy fine pictures, and plant fine gardens. Now, Mrs. Heartley, I have no taste nor pleasure in these things; seeing I was not brought up to like, or understand them; but this is no reason why my money should be useless to me, and if I can purchase, by my superfluity, the happiness of having such a friend as Malcolm Maclairn, I should be a fool not to have done what I have done. So, heartily wishing the young couple happy,and recommending to your fair daughter to marry her tenant directly,

I remain, your sincere,Jeremiah Serge.

I remain, your sincere,

Jeremiah Serge.

January 12.

My patience is recompensed. “I may write half an hour, seeing that scribbling is the aliment some girls live upon.” This is my kind doctor, Lucy; and if you had seen how grateful I was for this indulgence, you would be of Mrs. Heartley’s opinion, who has pronounced my fevergood for something; for that it hassaved Lady Maclairn’s life; and, as you may perceive, has taught me to submit. Blessed be God for the renewal of that life, which is so dear to my friends! and which I may, if it be not my fault, still render a blessing to them and myself.

We are once more in sight of the harbour of peace; not indeed of that peace which “this world can neither give nor take away,” but of that season of tranquillity, which, in mercy, is allotted to man, in order, as it should seem, to give us time to refit our feeble bark, and to rectify the chart, to which we have hitherto trusted; to recover by repose, strength and vigour for the storms and perils we may yet have to encounter in our passage to eternity; and to leave behind us traces of that providential power which hath piloted us home.

You will like to have the particulars of Miss Flint’s will. It will satisfy you, as it has done me, that a death-bed repentanceismuch better than none. She specifies, that, in consideration of her brother Oliver’s donation to Philip Flint, it appears to be an incumbent duty on her part, to provide for those of her family, who have beentoo long neglected, and to the last moment of her mortal life, will she bless Philip Flint, for having seconded her in this act of justice, by his advice and concurrence.

The Farefield estate, with the moveables, besides a considerable sum in money, which will devolve on him as residuary legatee, are left to Captain Flint for his life; at his decease they go to Philip Flint, to whom she has only bequeathed five thousand pounds “as a token of her love.” To her niece Mary the same sum, payable when she is of age, and fivemoreat her uncle’s decease. To Malcolm Maclairn two thousand pounds, “as amarkof her esteem for him, and gratitude to his mother.” By the way, poor Malcolmwas nearly overpowered by thismark, for he had not mourned as one who needed comfort; and I suspect that his conscience was not quite prepared for the legacy.

To the poor of the parish she has left a liberal peace offering: to her servants she has been generous and just: to Warner, her woman, she leaves a thousand pounds.

Flamall’s execrable name does not appear in any paper that is left; and yet the contents of the cabinet left to Lady Maclairn’s inspection, clearly prove that Miss Flint had long been engaged by the thoughts of death. Not afriendhas been overlooked but Flamall, and it is evident to me, that she ceased to regard him even in that point of view, from the time he declared his marriage. I suspect she was informed of his baseness in that business. All her little donations were marked and ticketed by her own hand. To Sir Murdoch she leaves a very fine seal; its antiquity as well as beauty, make it valuable.To Mrs. Allen a gold snuff box, containing an hundred pound bank note, “for mourning;” for Miss Cowley a diamond ring. To each of Douglass’s boys a hundred guineas for books, and three hundred pounds in notes, for their worthy father. A small box, directed “to my niece, Mary Howard, as a token of my too late repentance and unfeigned love.” The captain, who was present when her ladyship performed this painful office, was so much affected by the sight of this box, that he burst into tears, and, with extreme agitation, tore off the address, and put it in his bosom. Philip Flint had not been overlooked in this partition of kindness. Her picture in miniature, taken at the time he was born, with a rich string of pearls that had been her mother’s, were marked for him and his wife. We have since examined Mary’s gift. Some fine lace, and a few family jewels are the principal things. When you have cautiouslyinformed her, that, from her aunt’s hand, she has restored to her what she will judge to beinvaluable, namely, her father’s and mother’s pictures, so long lost! so deeply regretted! But I am called to order; and you will be contented with this four day’s labour of your poor shackled Rachel Cowley; who is bound, though in silken fetters. You know that the Heartleys are here. I gain nothing by that; for they are as bad as any of my arguseyed nurses.

P. S. My dear Miss Hardcastle, we have now only to fear that our patient should betoo soonwell. She has no fever, but that which arises from her exertions. She cannotvegetate, to use her own word; and she thinks her body is strong, because her mind is never idle. It is in vain that we oppose her. She will write; and then who can wonder that she does not sleep! Use yourinfluence, and give us time to recruit her strength.

Yours,A. Heartley.

Yours,

A. Heartley.

Mrs. Allen is in good spirits. She has left me nothing to say in regard to Doctor Douglass. But, I verily believe, his care saved the life of our precious friend. She was, indeed, for some hours, so ill as to leave little for hope. I leave Alice to express, to my dear Mary, all that my full heart feels on her account.

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