CHAP. IV.
Let it be considered, that besides as happiness is uncertain, misfortune is rarely without remedy. Time may console us, Fate may change; and he who fancies himself the most unfortunate of beings may yet become happy.Genlis.
Let it be considered, that besides as happiness is uncertain, misfortune is rarely without remedy. Time may console us, Fate may change; and he who fancies himself the most unfortunate of beings may yet become happy.
Genlis.
On the following evening, each of the young ones being anxious to hear the sequel of Rover’s adventures, Fitzallan, ever indulgent to their wishes, when bounded by propriety, resumed his narrative.
“Theodore, having enjoyed a goodnight’s rest, and satisfied in his mind as to the safety of his faithful follower, who that night reposed soundly by his bedside, was anxious to continue his journey to London as early as possible. He therefore rose before any but the menial domestics of the family were stirring, not recollecting that gratitude as well as politeness required that he should make his acknowledgments personally for the kindness he had experienced. Recollecting this in time, he sauntered listlessly from room to room, till he had the satisfaction to hear that Lord Montgomery was stirring, and requested the favour of Mr. Fitzallan to breakfast with him.Theodore returned a polite answer, and was soon summoned to the Baron’s apartment.
“The servant having announced him to his master, Theodore entered; but started back with unconcealed surprise at beholding a form with which he was well acquainted. Montgomery, though well pleased at the interview, and better prepared, had presence of mind sufficient to prevent the servant from noticing the confusion of Fitzallan; but motioning to him to retire, cordially seized the hand of his friend, and leading him to a chair, sat down beside him.
‘I see your astonishment, my dearMr. Fitzallan; it is too great to be repressed; yet I can read also the various doubts and conjectures which agitate your mind. Upon my word, but that other emotions at present agitate my feelings, I could laugh heartily at the portrait you now exhibit.’
“Theodore glanced at himself in an opposite mirror, and could not suppress a smile; but, in an instant, his seriousness returned, and looking round him with an air of pleasantry mingled with apprehension, he said—‘How am I to unriddle this? Inform me, I beseech you, with candour, whether I am addressing LordMontgomery or my old friend Barnaby Shute?’
‘Both, I can assure you,’ replied the Baron, gaily; ‘yesterday put me in possession of a title to which I was born lawful heir, and which I trust I shall never disgrace; and indeed I augur most favourably from this beginning, which has thus enabled me, in a small degree, to make a return to my earliest friend and benefactor.’
‘If my heartfelt congratulation can add any thing to your satisfaction, be assured it is sincere as any feeling my heart ever experienced, and can hardly be equalled by my curiosity, great as it is, to know howthese strange occurrences have been brought about.’
‘I will satisfy you,’ said the Baron; ‘it is a short story, though an extraordinary one.
‘The kindness of the gentleman to whom you recommended me was extended towards me in more ways than mere pecuniary advantage. Finding that I had a natural wish for improvement, he spared no pains to procure me such assistance as was requisite, and even suffered me to share the lessons which he received from masters in the various branches of education. By these means my situation became delightful, and mygratitude to him was unbounded. I loved him equally with you, and towards both I bore the affection of a brother—so much does generosity attach the humblest dependant.
‘The advantages which I reaped from the indulgence of my amiable young master, were such as I shall now most essentially derive benefit from. I no longer repined at the severity of nature, in giving me such an uncouth form; I knew how to value more justly the beauties of the mind, and eagerly sought to compensate for personal deficiencies, by every possible improvement in morals and manners. No longer consideredas a servant, I became the honoured friend and companion of the generous Mowbray.
‘One morning I was reading the paper to him, while at breakfast, as was my usual custom, when the surprising purport of one paragraph rendered me incapable of attending to any thing else. Read it yourself, and judge what my feelings must have been.’
“Lord Montgomery handed a paper to Theodore, in which he read these words—‘If an unfortunate object, commonly known by the appellation of Barnaby Shute, is yet living, and should meet with this paragraph, let him make the earliest applicationpossible to Mr. Melvin, 46, Cockspur-street, from whom he will learn particulars of the utmost consequence, and tending, in a most particular manner, to his future establishment in life.’
‘You may easily imagine,’ resumed Montgomery, ‘that I repaired immediately to the person mentioned in the advertisement. I found the gentleman at home, who received me with much politeness; and, as a preface to what he had to communicate, begged to know if I had any particular mark by which he could be satisfied that I was the person with whom he was authorised to hold a private conference of ainteresting nature. I instantly untied my cravat, and shewed him on my throat the exact representation of a bunch of purple grapes, imprinted there so correctly, that every berry was perfect.’
‘It is enough, Sir,’ said Mr. Melvin; ‘I am convinced of your identity; and now, to spare the confusion of your only existing parent, will enter into a detail of the circumstances which occasioned your being hitherto kept in ignorance that you are presumptive heir to a title and estate of no inconsiderable consequence in this country.’
‘I will pass over my exclamations of surprise at this intelligence, andcontent myself with repeating his words as exactly as my memory will permit.
‘Your father, Sir, was, very early in life, married, by the persuasions of his family, to a young lady, who had very few personal charms to recommend her. Lord Montgomery had been too fondly attached to a dissipated life to become suddenly a domestic man; and feeling no strong partiality for the lady to whom he was united, after a very few weeks of self-denial, in compliance with the forms propriety dictated, returned, with heightened avidity, to his former licentious companions. Among these was a woman of infamousfame, who had, by her vile artifices, obtained such a complete ascendancy over his Lordship’s inclinations, that she had power to urge or persuade him to any measure which her caprices or necessities dictated.
‘After being married about three years, Lord Montgomery expressed the bitterest dissatisfaction that his lady had not yet brought him any offspring. It was the first wish of his heart to have an heir, and the only consideration which could possibly have induced him to comply with the wishes of his friends. At length the anxiously-desired event took place, and the hopes of the Earl were gratified by the birth of a malechild, which the impatient father eagerly waited to embrace. But who can speak his disgust and horror, when an infant the most deformed and hideous was put into his arms!
‘Excuse me, Sir,’ observed Mr. Melvin, ‘that I express myself in this unqualified manner; it is the only palliative that can be offered for the subsequent culpable conduct of Lord Montgomery. The disappointed parent started with dismay at beholding an object so very different from what paternal pride had taught him to expect.
‘This cannot be my child,’ he exclaimed, in unconcealed rage; ‘it is a trick, an imposition practised onmy credulity. Does Lady Montgomery imagine I am thus to be deceived with impunity?’
‘It was in vain that the nurse and attendants assured him the child was his. He flew from the house in a state of phrenzy not to be described. For consolation, he hastened to his vile favourite, imparted to her his cause of vexation, and intreating her advice. She heard him with malignant satisfaction; for her terror was extreme, that the fond feelings of a father would restore his affections to his lady, and alienate them from herself.
‘How could you be foolish enough to imagine, Montgomery,’ said she,‘that a woman so plain as your wife could have handsome children? the little ugly thing is yours, and you must do the best you can with it. The world will be very charitable in surmises, no doubt.’
‘Distracted by these taunts, the Earl indignantly swore that he would perish rather than suffer such a hideous little being to call him father.
‘No,’ he exclaimed, ‘I will never be the finger-mark of scorn and ridicule.’
‘Suppose I help you out of this dilemma,’ said his fair adviser, laughing: ‘what I have to propose may perhaps seem hard; but if you are determined not to acknowledge thechild, I think my plan will be admirable.’
‘Name it, dearest creature,’ cried Lord Montgomery,’ and I will think you the preserver of my honour.’
‘My poor maid, Lucy, was this morning unluckily, or perhaps luckily, brought to-bed of a son; it is as lovely a child as can be imagined. Now if you would have the generosity to substitute this child in the place of him you mean to abandon, a decent sum would, I doubt not, induce the mother to give him up to you, and save her from want.’
‘It is an excellent thought, and shall be done,’ exclaimed Montgomery;‘at all events, this shall be put in execution.’
‘Thus did these wicked creatures plan the most detestable of actions—the one through a false shame and fear of the world’s ridicule, the other through motives of avarice and revenge; so easily does bad example and improper counsel urge the weak mind to the commission of the most terrible crimes.
‘It was the error of Montgomery in his earliest youth to give himself over to bad example. At school his associates were chiefly those who delighted most in mischievous sports and idle habits; and this vicious propensitygained ground on his inclinations at maturer years, and laid the foundation for a wretched old age.
‘Lord Montgomery hastened home; he bribed the nurse to be secret, and dispatched a trusty servant to Lucy, who hesitated not to give up her infant, and received the unfortunate wronged babe in its place. As soon as Lady Montgomery was able to travel, his Lordship hurried her to England, that she might never get knowledge of the transaction, leaving his base confederates to make the best of their bargain—for mistrust is ever the attendant of guilt, and those who instigate us to the commission of an improper action,soon become objects of fear and disgust, even to the most abandoned.
‘No sooner was Lord Montgomery removed from Boston, than this vile woman and her companion formed other connexions; and secure of the money, the price of their villainy, abandoned the helpless infant to the charitable institution; but retribution hovered over the head of the misguided, guilty Montgomery. His lady died the victim of his neglect and harshness; and the base offspring of Lucy repaid his care with the most horrible ingratitude.
‘These events have embittered the remaining days of the Earl. He finds an accusing conscience haspower to deaden every sense of pleasure; and, as the only means remaining of restoring peace to his wounded mind, he determined on this act of justice; he has discarded the prodigal, who abuses his generosity; he acknowledges the justice of his punishment; and in restoring you to your birthright, with ample confession of his guilt, hopes to obtain your forgiveness, and the mercy of offended Heaven.’
‘You may imagine, my dear friend,’ said Barnaby, ‘how much my feelings were agitated by this recital, and what heartfelt gratitude glowed in my breast towards you, whose goodness had raised me fromsuch indigent obscurity and ignorance to a degree of comparative respectability. I readily forgave, though I felt I could never respect, my unjust parent, and was impatient to present myself before him, that he might see I was not altogether the monster his imagination had hitherto represented me. Our meeting was particularly affecting. All my resentment was changed to pity, at the deplorable state in which I found him. His humility was extreme; and he expired in my arms, breathing the tenderest blessings on me. That moment repaid me for all I had before suffered. So sweet are the sensations of filial love! Naturehas implanted it in our breasts in its full force. Happy, happy children are ye, who can look up to your parents with equal love and reverence! Never may you repay kindness with neglect! for even the unworthy, erring father, claims comfort, support, and pity from his own natural offspring; and Heaven will repay to the duteous child, sooner or later, the mercy he has shewn to an aged, unhappy parent.’
“Theodore congratulated his friend with sincere joy, and then made him acquainted with the particulars of his own affairs. Lord Montgomery regretted that the peculiar situation in which he was at thattime placed, prevented his attending him to town, but begged that he would not neglect to write to him as soon as he possibly could; and further requested that he would indulge him so far as to leave Rover with him.
‘I found the faithful creature,’ said he, ‘at the inn where you put up last. He was roaming from chamber to chamber in search of you; but he instantly recollected me, and gave every testimony of joy in his power. He willingly followed me hitherto, and no doubt traced you by his acute scent to your apartment, where he caused you such extreme alarm. The precariousness of yoursituation will render him rather a trouble to you; and independent of my own wish, I would advise you to leave him here. You shall have him whenever you think proper to claim him.’
“Theodore gave an immediate assent, and parted from his friend and his dog with mingled pain and pleasure, happy at the events which had so recently occurred, yet anxious as to his own future destiny.
“As soon as he arrived in town, he repaired to the house of Sir George Norbury, where, to his infinite mortification, he was denied sight of her on whose account alone he had made the visit. His business at the Admiraltybeing settled to his satisfaction, he embarked in the ship to which he was appointed, with a heavy heart. They were ordered to Jamaica on a three years’ station; and there Fitzallan was so fortunate as to get promoted to the rank of First Lieutenant. He was preparing to return to England with renewed hopes, when a letter from Lord Montgomery gave a final blow to all his fond expectations. It ran thus:—
‘MY DEAR FRIEND,‘At a moment of extreme happiness to myself, I am under the painful necessity of communicatingto you the melancholy intelligence of your father’s death. I know that no consideration of future affluence and independence will console you for this event, nor can I attempt the language of condolence on the occasion, as Nature must take her course, and the feelings of the heart find vent, in despite of all the arguments which friendship or philosophy might suggest. In fact, I look upon plausible reasoning to be officious, and seldom more than mere commonplace civility; our friendship is too sincere to require any such varnish. I know that if any thing can turn aside the tide of grief for a revered parent, it is the information thathim you have so long honoured with your regard, is on the eve of being made the happiest of men.‘One particular circumstance in my life, I believe, I have till now omitted mentioning to you. It was this: I had once the good fortune to save from death the lovely daughter of Sir George Norbury. I was attending my master on a pleasurable excursion, when the animal Miss Norbury rode took fright, and would have plunged down a frightful precipice, had I not, by a desperate effort, impeded his progress, and received the lovely girl in my arms. From that happy moment I became a favourite in the family. With thesweetness peculiar to her disposition, Miss Norbury paid me the most flattering attention; and as I was no longer considered in the character of a domestic, I suffered insensibly my heart to be impressed with her merit too strongly for my peace. Yet I forgot not my own dependant situation, and forbore to drop a hint which might indicate my presumption. The late extraordinary change in my prospects has emboldened me to aspire to the hand of this amiable girl, and I was successful in my appeal to Sir George. He seems even desirous of the alliance, and his lovely daughter has consented to become mine. As your return is now expected,I shall not hasten the arrangements, that I may have the additional pleasure of your presence. I congratulate you on your recent promotion, and trust that you will not doubt my word when I say, that if money or interest can secure your further advancement, you may command to the utmost your grateful and affectionate‘Montgomery.’
‘MY DEAR FRIEND,
‘At a moment of extreme happiness to myself, I am under the painful necessity of communicatingto you the melancholy intelligence of your father’s death. I know that no consideration of future affluence and independence will console you for this event, nor can I attempt the language of condolence on the occasion, as Nature must take her course, and the feelings of the heart find vent, in despite of all the arguments which friendship or philosophy might suggest. In fact, I look upon plausible reasoning to be officious, and seldom more than mere commonplace civility; our friendship is too sincere to require any such varnish. I know that if any thing can turn aside the tide of grief for a revered parent, it is the information thathim you have so long honoured with your regard, is on the eve of being made the happiest of men.
‘One particular circumstance in my life, I believe, I have till now omitted mentioning to you. It was this: I had once the good fortune to save from death the lovely daughter of Sir George Norbury. I was attending my master on a pleasurable excursion, when the animal Miss Norbury rode took fright, and would have plunged down a frightful precipice, had I not, by a desperate effort, impeded his progress, and received the lovely girl in my arms. From that happy moment I became a favourite in the family. With thesweetness peculiar to her disposition, Miss Norbury paid me the most flattering attention; and as I was no longer considered in the character of a domestic, I suffered insensibly my heart to be impressed with her merit too strongly for my peace. Yet I forgot not my own dependant situation, and forbore to drop a hint which might indicate my presumption. The late extraordinary change in my prospects has emboldened me to aspire to the hand of this amiable girl, and I was successful in my appeal to Sir George. He seems even desirous of the alliance, and his lovely daughter has consented to become mine. As your return is now expected,I shall not hasten the arrangements, that I may have the additional pleasure of your presence. I congratulate you on your recent promotion, and trust that you will not doubt my word when I say, that if money or interest can secure your further advancement, you may command to the utmost your grateful and affectionate
‘Montgomery.’
“Astonishment and concern took possession of Theodore’s mind. He was surprised that Miss Norbury should so readily consent to marry Montgomery, and equally grievedthat she no longer regarded him with a preference. He therefore returned an answer, in which his agitation and uneasiness could not be concealed under his feigned congratulations; and Montgomery was not long before he learned from Miss Norbury herself the particulars of his friend’s attachment to that lady. She had indeed never ceased to regard him; but the care her father had taken to prevent her hearing from or seeing him, was too effectual for her to obtain any knowledge of his sentiments, and she attributed to indifference what was in fact the result of necessity. Gratitude, and the commands of a father, now induced herto promise her hand to Lord Montgomery; but she candidly acknowledged to him every particular.
“Montgomery, though sensibly affected by her candour, and the knowledge that he was not the object of her regard, yet concealed his chagrin, and strove to gain her favour by the most delicate attentions.
“When Theodore arrived, he hastened, with ardent eagerness, to embrace him, and experienced the most acute anguish at perceiving the altered looks and cold manners of his once-ardent friend.
‘My dear Mr. Fitzallan,’ said he, affecting ignorance, ‘how have I been so unfortunate as to offend you?I have been impatiently expecting your return to crown my happiness; yet you meet me with pallid cheeks and averted eyes—what can this mean?’
‘Lord Montgomery,’ said Theodore, seriously, ‘press me not on this subject; you have been innocently the cause of some unhappiness to me; but I bear you no enmity; and though I cannot witness your felicity, I will never cease to pray for it.’
‘My dear, dear friend,’ cried Montgomery, throwing himself into the arms of Theodore, ‘I know all; Charlotte has told me every thing, and I have only secured her to myself, that I might have the power ofpresenting her to you, as a proof that gratitude has never slept in my heart. The settlements are all drawn up; there only remains to insert your name instead of mine.’
‘Generous, too-generous Montgomery!’ exclaimed Theodore, ‘I have not deserved this goodness.’
‘Much more than ever I can have power to acknowledge,’ returned Montgomery; ‘you raised me from the dust to your bosom. I only have restored to you what was by right your own.’
“Theodore was overjoyed, and embraced his friend with grateful tears; and in the sweet delight of doing good to others, Montgomeryestablished his own happiness. He gave the fair bride away; and in the course of a few years stood godfather to Charlotte, Caroline, and Henry, who now listen with such earnestness to my tale, and who will, I hope, be impressed by it with the amiable sentiment, that virtue, independent of personal beauty, should alone command our esteem, as the most deformed and hideous to behold may possess a heart more valuable than that enclosed within the fairest outside.”
FINIS.
Printed by J. Darling, Leadenhall-Street, London.