CHAPTER IV.

"'Never from my hands shall you receive it,' I indignantly cried: 'nor whilst I have life will I part with it. I know the blackened purpose of your heart too well; but Corbet still has a friend, who will deliver him from your machinations.'

"'What mean you by that insinuation, Sir?' he ferociously exclaimed.

"'Look on this wasting form,' I replied, 'and let that answer thee.—Wretch that thou art, could not thy injuries to my father satisfy thee, but thou must also seek to destroy his son!'

"He did not receive this imprudent accusation calmly, but seized me with a strength I had not power to oppose.—'Since you have taxed me with such an intention,' he exclaimed, 'it shall not be for nothing. Your life has long been in my power, though I have weakly spared it!'

"My mother called to him to forbear;but rage had bereaved him of all prudence or consideration, and, wresting the pen-knife from me, he attempted to plunge it into my bosom.

"Quick as lightning, my mother caught his hand, and again commanded him to desist, or she would instantly alarm the family.

"This declaration recalled him to a sense of his own safety: he sullenly obeyed; but at the same time asserted that the provocation he had received, was more than sufficient to authorise what he had done; and, with many bitter invectives, declared, my insanity should be no defence for offering him such insults!

"'Your excuse, Sir,' I exclaimed, 'is too absurd to pass even with a madman; and I am not yet sufficiently bereaved of my senses, to need an explanation of the motives which instigated you to seek my destruction!'

"'Then I will not attempt one,' he fiercely replied; 'but boldly say—Corbet Hall cannot—nor shall any longer contain two masters!'

"My mother regarded him with a look of ineffable scorn.—'Surely thou too art insane!—Know you not, Sir, where I am, no one shall claim the title of master? and as you value my good opinion, never again dare to entertain such an expectation.'

"Mallet was abashed, and, after some moments pause, said—'Do I rightly understand you, Lady Corbet?'

"'It appears not, Sir,' answered my mother; 'or you would not thus insolently assume the privilege of acting contrary to my injunction! But from this time, Sir, learn that I expect implicit obedience to my will: if not—as I have raised, you shall likewise find it is in my power to replace you in your original obscurity!'—'To you, Sir,' addressing me, 'I shall only say, that unless you resign the key, I will immediately bring a charge of lunacy against you: nor shall you ever again pass beyond the walls of your present apartment!'—Then ordering Malletto follow her, with an air of the sternest dignity, she quitted the room.

"Mallet knew my mother's temper too well, to irritate her, by a further opposition to her commands; he therefore slowly directed his steps toward the door, when perceiving she was beyond hearing, he turned to me in a menacing manner—'Next time we meet, young man, your life shall surely pay the forfeit for this night's adventure!'

"He closed the door; leaving me in a state of wretchedness surpassing aught I had then experienced. To resign the key, was to yield the only means by which, as I imagined, I could ever hope to obtainmy father's will; and would be consigning not only myself, but my aunt, Mrs. Blond, and all who were dear to me, to ruin!—To retain it—or indeed to remain where I was, would be equally destructive; for Mallet, I doubted not, would keep his word.

"I stood for some time nearly stupified with horror. 'Is no resource left to save me?' I at last sighed, advancing to the window. The morning had dawned, and a gypsey I had two or three times spoken to, was crossing the lawn toward the house. To me he came the angel of deliverance; and, allowing myself scarcely a moment's consideration, I broke a square of glass—for the windows were too wellsecured to admit of my opening them—-and called to him.

"He heard me, and immediately approached; when tying five guineas in my handkerchief, I threw it to him, and briefly telling him my situation, promised him twenty more if he would aid me to escape.

"He declared himself willing to assist me; but that he knew not how to effect my liberation. No time, I was certain, was to be lost; I therefore directed him to an outhouse, whence he procured a ladder, which he placed against the window, and breaking another square of glass, severed the wood-work that divided them;with some difficulty I got through, and thus, once more, found myself at liberty!

"I gave him his promised reward, and hastened, as fast as my feeble state would admit, to the Parsonage; where my aunt and Mrs. Blond, on hearing what had passed, urged me instantly to fly; but not choosing to put the friendship of St. Ledger again to a trial, or knowing where else to go, my aunt advised my seeking the protection of her Howard, whose generous heart, and the remembrance of his Ellenor, she doubted not, would render him favourable to my suit.

"You were then at Yarmouth; for my aunt had constant intelligence of your destinations from the time of your quittingBrighthelmstone; and refusing the money she would have forced me to accept, I set out on foot for Hay. But my escape was already discovered. Mallet, early in the morning, entered my room, and finding me gone, immediately dispatched the servants in pursuit of me.

"This I learned from old Owen, and was again obliged to have recourse to the gypsey, who, knowing the urgency of the moment, refused the offer of my clothes for his, without a considerable gratuity. It was not a time to argue or deliberate; I therefore paid his demand, and soon found myself in rags, and with something less than three guineas. I, however, travelled in safety, though reduced to some distress from the lowness of my purse, andat last reached the spot, where the benevolence of my friend Frederick relieved me from apprehended danger.

"I was beginning to recover my tranquillity, when the appearance of Mr. Talton drove me from your protection:—of my subsequent rencounter with the smugglers, I have already informed you. After my escape from them, I worked my passage to Cardigan; where, anxious to see my aunt and Eliza, I proceeded immediately for the Parsonage, secure, as I thought, in my sailor's habit. The appearance of Mallet drove me to the cottage of Owen, who informed me of the report circulated of my death, and that you, Mr. Talton, had previously to your going to Holland, in my mother's name,demanded of Mrs. Blond, the back rents of the lands, my father had attached to the Parsonage, and which my mother had already torn from her possession."

"'I now,' said Mr. Talton, 'take shame to myself for the action, to which I was instigated by Lady Corbet, who informed me, Mrs. Blond had in her house a woman the late Sir Henry had kept previously to his marriage, and on whom he had since lavished immense sums; that, to reward Blond for affording her his countenance, he had allowed him the free rent of the lands; likewise, that she suspected Mrs. Blond was endeavouring to inveigle you, Sir Henry, into a marriage with her daughter. I cannot say this account agreed with the characters I ever receivedof Mr. and Mrs. Blond; but such was my affection for your mother, that I still retained the opinion she had impressed me with. She did not, she said, want the money; butbeingcertain they were the instigators of your elopement, she wished to have them removed to a greater distance, but knew no other means to effect it, without exposing the conduct of the late Sir Henry, which she would willingly avoid. On going to the parsonage, I was introduced to a lady I had never before seen: the beauty of her face and figure, added to the extreme shyness and embarrassment with which she received me, induced me to think she was the mistress your mother had mentioned; and I am sorry to say, I behaved to her with a harshness and severity,I am now convinced she did not deserve; but I should sooner have discredited the evidence of my senses, than the word of your mother; and scarcely, indeed, can I believe them, in the discovery this day has afforded! But, I beg pardon, Sir Henry; pray proceed.'"

"Alarmed at the intelligence I received," continued Sir Henry, "I hastened to the Parsonage, and found it deserted by all but Mary, who confirmed the truth of old Owen's report: and that, on the news arriving of my death, they had been obliged to fly, as Mallet had threatened to send them to gaol. Mary wept as she gave me the relation of their distress, and at last said—'Ah! Sir Henry, would to Heaven you had never left theHall; for I heard old Thomas tell my Lady, if you had staid, and thought of the pannel, all had been well; they should not now have had to regret your death, or been unjustly driven on a merciless world, to seek their maintenance.'

"Mary knew not the meaning of what she uttered, but, quick as lightning, it brought to my recollection a pannel which concealed a small cavity in a closet adjoining the library. There, I doubted not the will was placed! The woman my father loved, my aunt, her Edward, and her on whose happiness I then found mine depended, were wandering without support: and the idea determined me, regardless of the consequence which must ensue, should I be discovered, toventure beneath the roof I so lately fled from!

"Favoured by the night, I entered by the servants offices, and got, unperceived, through the library to the closet. Mary had provided me with a small dark lanthorn, and, with some difficulty I opened the cavity; but again was doomed to disappointment; it was vacant! With an aching heart I closed the pannel, and was going to leave the closet, when my mother and Mallet entered the library. They discoursed on the improvement of an estate he had purchased for my mother a few weeks before; till Mr. Talton's name was casually mentioned, when he asked if she really designed to marry him? and, on her answering in the affirmative, heendeavoured to dissuade her from it, and to prevail on her to bestow her hand on himself.

"'I love you, Charles,' she answered, 'and believe your sentiments are reciprocal; but will never put it in your power to controul me. I am now mistress of a noble fortune; and you are welcome to partake of it, even if increased by that of Talton. Cease then to repeat the only request I wish to refuse you; and rest satisfied with the title of my lover.'

"He still urged his suit, still she peremptorily forbade the subject, and reverted to the newly-purchased estate; he soon after retired to his office, and my mother entered the closet where I was, for the purpose of writing. Never wassurprise and horror greater than that expressed on her countenance at beholding me: scarcely could her trembling hand retain the light which exposed the features of a son to her view.—'It is the phantom of the drowned Corbet!' she at length faintly screamed. 'Approach me not! Help—help!'

"'No, Madam,' I exclaimed, 'your son still lives! and you may now glory in having reduced him to the state, in which your lover deserted Louise.'

"I rushed by her, hearing the servants approaching; escaped into the garden, and, scaling the wall, retraced my steps to Cardigan; every hope lost of discovering the will, or ever being restored to myrights. Cooler reflection, however, offered a different interpretation to the words of Mary, to what I had at first imagined they implied; and I thought it not impossible, but even probable, that Thomas had discovered the will (as he actually had), and conveyed it to my aunt and Mrs. Blond. But where to trace them—I knew not. I was moneyless, and certainly in danger of being discovered by my mother; and the same precaution they must use to elude the knowledge of Mr. Talton; would, I feared, as effectually conceal them from me. For some days, however, I endeavoured to gain intelligence of them, but in vain; and the powerful demands of hunger, at last, compelled me to engage as a common sailor in a merchantman trading toHavre-de-Grace; where, disgusted with the Captain, I left the vessel, and, having an ardent desire to know if my deserted sister was in existence, I travelled on foot to Rennes. My adventures there—my rescue of Louise, I have already related; till the period when Providence directed my steps to L'Orient, where, impelled again by necessity, I engaged to serve in a vessel destined with others to Pondicherry. The day after we reached St. Helena, you, Captain Howard, also arrived there, and fortune, there wearied of persecuting me, not only restored me to your friendship, but discovered to me a sister, endeared to my heart by her misfortunes, before a personal knowledge made me love her for her virtues; yet the recollection of past events, forced continuallyto mind by her striking resemblance to my mother, preyed on my heart. I again sunk under it; and, but for the attentions of you, my friends, should most probably, ere this period, have left my mother the lawful possessor of the fortune she now illegally holds."

"Thank Heaven, my prayers were heard for the preservation of your existence:" said Louise: "though, had you, my brother, entrusted me with the secrets you have this day disclosed, Louise would have been your comforter, and, by sharing your griefs, have lightened the sorrow which oppressed you."

"Say, rather, have added to it, my dear girl;" said Sir Henry, "from theconsciousness of having rendered you as unhappy as myself: and but for the discovery of last night, this of to-day would never have taken place. For the friends we here found, I wished the recovery of my fortune; as indeed with them the means rested: and, had not Providence conducted us to them, should never on my own account oppose her, who, whatever are her failings,—is still my mother!"

The company here unanimously joined in thanking Sir Henry for the elucidation of the mysteries which had perplexed them.

"Yet has he not related every particular," said Ellenor, smiling. "He might have added, that since the deathsof his father and Blond, his hand has not only sustained Ellenor and her son, but the descendants of Sir James Elvyn.

"On your second emigration, my Henry, your mother, not being able to discover you, turned the effects of her rage against us, and sent a peremptory demand, by Mr. Talton, for the back-rents. This message, which portended our ruin, threw us into the utmost consternation; though, had I entertained a suspicion the lover of Lady Corbet was the former friend of my Howard, I should not have hesitated a moment in discovering myself to him, and appealing to the rectitude of his own principles against the injustice and inhumanity of the claim. Your mother, however, at that time, went toLondon, and Mr. Talton accompanying her, in some degree freed us from our fears of immediate distress; but the following morning, Mallet, attended by an officer, entered the room whilst we were at breakfast, and arrested Mrs. Blond for three and twenty hundred pounds, the amount of the rent for seventeen years.—Nor was my unhappy friend treated with either respect or mercy, but, on declaring her inability to discharge the debt, instantly hurried away to confinement.

"To sue for lenity, I was certain would be in vain, I therefore (trusting to Sir Henry's friendship, to redress the injury,) paid the money; consisting of my father's legacy to Blond, which had hitherto been preserved for Eliza, and themoney Sir Henry had supplied me with, for my Edward's maintenance at the University.

"Lady Corbet, however, was determined on forcing us from Caermarthen; for, a few weeks after, we were privately informed by a servant from the Hall, that he had overheard Mallet threatening to arrest both me and Mrs. Blond, as joint tenants, for the rent of the parsonage since the death of Blond, and from Mr. Talton's name being likewise mentioned, he was induced, he said, to think that gentleman concerned in the business.—This relation, added to the late occurrence, considerably affected the health of Hannah; and she earnestly entreated her sister to leave the Parsonage, and seek a surerasylum at the house of Lieutenant Booyers, at least till we should hear from Sir Henry. Mrs. Blond readily acceded to the proposal, and, writing for my Edward to return, we prepared for our departure.

"At that time Thomas returned from Cornwall, where he had been sent some time before Sir Henry's elopement; and on being informed of that circumstance, and our sentiments respecting Lady Corbet, he declared he had supported my brother, when he took his will from the private room, and placed it in the recess of his closet; but ever supposed it had been the same which was produced after his decease. He undertook to procure it; but could not accomplish his design, till the day previous to Lady Corbet'sreturn; the library being shut up, and Mallet in possession of the keys: an opportunity then presented itself, of entering unperceived, and he found the will, indeed, where my brother had placed it. He immediately brought it to me; when every ardent hope, the discovery had raised, was destroyed, by the report of Sir Henry's death. Thomas's dislike to Lady Corbet being greatly increased by the knowledge of this action, he determined to follow my fortunes, and attach himself to my son as his future master. We accordingly proceeded to Lieutenant Booyers, where the amiable Hannah—her gentle spirit broken by repeated afflictions—sunk beneath this last misfortune, and, a few weeks after, found a refuge from her sorrows in the grave.

"We were yet mourning her loss, when we were alarmed by Susan informing us, she had seen you, Mr. Talton, alight at the inn.—Not doubting but that you were in pursuit of us, we ordered a carriage from the adjoining village, and prepared again for flight. On Booyers' return with Ellen, being made acquainted with the emergency of our situation, he consented to accompany us, and we thus set out—Providence our guide—to seek a future habitation. Heaven conducted us to this spot, where happiness has once more become an inmate of my bosom; and where justice, I hope, by the hand of my Howard, will re-establish Sir Henry in the possessions of which he has been defrauded."

"My obligations to Sir Henry, on your account, my Ellenor," said the Captain, "I can never sufficiently acknowledge; indeed every action or account but heightens my admiration and regard. Let me then know, my young friend, how you wish to proceed—and command my fortune and interest."

"It is now the subject to be considered," said Sir Henry. "Violent measures we cannot pursue. The will my mother produced is forged: think then what must be the consequence, if I commence a process of law against her. No—rather let me rest satisfied with the entailed estates. I would wish to appoint you my guardian, for the remainder of my minority: my mother, at her decease, may perhaps bejust: if not—whilst blessed with the friendship of those I so highly esteem, and as I trust with the hand and affection of Eliza, I shall not only have sufficient to fulfil my father's request, but to enjoy every comfort of life: its luxuries I am content to dispense with."

"I cannot agree to this arrangement," said Mr. Talton: "and if you, Sir Henry, will allow me to be joint guardian with Captain Howard, I may, perhaps, be able to re-establish you in your rights, without the aid of the law."

Sir Henry readily consented, on condition that his mother was not exposed.

"That, Sir Henry," continued Mr.Talton, "I shall carefully avoid. My affection to your mother, first founded on personal attractions, was confirmed only by the appearance of every virtue. Think, then, what must be my sentiments, at the discovery of her real character. I shall respect your feelings, my amiable young friends, nor forget that she is your mother: but these proofs of her duplicity, have raised a sentiment of indignation, perhaps not altogether excusable, against the woman for whom I so lately avowed an ardent attachment: but sooner will I tear the dearest hope, the richest prospect of happiness my fancy could pourtray from my heart, than be an accomplice in wronging her already too much injured offspring!

"Misled by her insinuations, I regarded the late Sir Henry as a tyrant, and her son, as a youth of sordid unsocial principles! I am undeceived—and here avow myself the supporter of his cause. Lady Corbet shall find, that when led into an error, Talton is neither ashamed to acknowledge it, nor to make reparation as far as lies in his power! Nor do I think it will prove an improper punishment to her, to be deprived of her ill-obtained wealth, by the man she pretended affection to, and would have accepted, with no other view than to increase it. But whether I succeed or not in this act of justice, you, Sir Henry, shall ever find a father in me!"

Sir Henry returned his acknowledgementsfor the regard Mr. Talton professed; and began to cherish a hope, that all would yet terminate to his satisfaction. The re-appearance of Mrs. Blond added to the pleasure which prevailed: only the bosom of Louise sometimes heaved a sigh, at the disappointment of the ideas she had cherished, of being restored to the arms of a mother.

The messenger returning with the licence, arrangements were commenced for the approaching nuptials. The Captain wished to have secured his Ellenor an ample competence, independent of himself: but she refused the jointure, telling him, with a smile, she would not be restricted to a part of his fortune. They, therefore, agreed to dispense with the delaysof the law, and appointed the following day for their re-union: after which, they proposed to proceed to Mr. Talton's, and there wait the return of Lady Corbet.

Enlivened by genuine gaiety, the hours passed imperceptibly; and the ensuing morning, Ellenor, for the second time, gave her hand to the man she loved: and the transports of the Captain on the occasion, showed how highly he prized the gift.

A few days after the marriage, they bade adieu to the humble roof, which had so many months afforded them a secure asylum; presenting the stock on the farm, and the furniture, to the peasant, who, with his wife, had proved themselves zealous and faithful servants.

By pleasant journeys, Sir Henry and his friends proceeded toward the seat of Mr. Talton, which, as he had informed theCaptain, adjoined to the Corbet estate.—On approaching the Parsonage, Edward, who was conversing with his father, checked the pace of his horse, and, pointing it out to his observation, said,—"I canscarcely, my dear Sir, express the pleasure I feel in this return to the scenes of my earlier days. How often have I trodden the spot we are now passing, and plucked the wild heath from its native soil—gayly carolling as the lark soaring over our heads, unconscious of evil, and a stranger to sorrow! Here, too, the worthy Blond, and my generous uncle, would often join Sir Henry and myself, in our boyish amusements; and whilst we inhaled health from the mountain breeze, would, from each object and incident, mix instruction with our pastime. Here, too,I last beheld one of the fairest of nature's creation——."

"Which circumstance," said the Captain, with a smile, "I believe, my son, you remember with as much regret as pleasure. I have, Edward, from the time I first beheld you, imagined your cheerfulness to be forced. Your mother, too, has observed it; and I have wished for the opportunity, which now offers, of inquiring the cause? Make me your confident; nor think, in unbosoming yourself, it is to a rigid censor, but to a father, whose anxiety for your happiness equals—and perhaps exceeds your own."

"I doubt not your indulgence, my dear Sir," answered Edward, after a slighthesitation: "your heart, I am certain, will afford an excuse for the wanderings of mine. I have, as you justly observed, affected a gaiety I am far from feeling, or hope ever again to experience."

"Can you despond," said the Captain still smiling, "with such an example as the loves of your parents before you? But who is the fair-one, who has thus gained your affections, and at the same time reduced you to despair?—Is she above your hopes, or in a state of life too far beneath you?"

"Your questions, my father," answered Edward, "add to my distress: I know not who she is? Her state in life, if I may judge from her appearance,is equal—if not superior—to my own."

"And when, Edward," asked the Captain more seriously, "did you first see this object of your regard? Some acquaintance, I suppose, must have existed—you could not, I imagine, become enamoured merely from seeing a fair face?"

"My acquaintance," said Edward, "if it deserve that epithet, with this truly beloved girl, began nearly three years since. I was returning, with some of my fellow-collegians, from an evening's excursion, toward our college; when a horse, on which was a lady, approached with a rapidity fright only could occasion: the impulse of humanity hurried me toher assistance: I caught at the rein, at the moment when, overpowered by terror, she quitted her hold, and fell senseless to the ground. I failed in my attempt to stop the affrighted animal, who darted along with the utmost velocity; but fortunately so far broke the fall of his lovely burthen, that she received no material hurt. I raised her from the ground, and recollection was returning, when a gentleman, followed by his servant, rode up to us; but, to my great astonishment, instead of expressing any concern at the accident, or inquiring if the lovely object I held in my arms had sustained any injury, he broke into violent exclamations of rage at her mismanagement of her steed, and declared she would only have received her due reward, if she had brokenher neck! I could not listen to him with patience, but sharply told him—I should have supposed he designed her to meet the fate he had mentioned, by his trusting her on an animal, more fit for the hands of a horse-breaker than a lady.

"'And who, Sir,' he vociferated, 'asked your opinion of the matter? Cease your impertinence, or talk to your fellows! For you, Madam, you shall ride this horse for six months to come: and, if you dare, repeat this day's behaviour!'

"He then commanded the servant to ride after the horse; in the mean time I endeavoured to encourage the weeping girl, who, however, was too much terrified by the menaces of her father, forsuch he was, to pay much attention to me.

"The horse had been stopped by some farmers; and, on the servant's returning with it, her father peremptorily commanded her to re-mount.—'Dear—dear father,' she cried, wringing her hands, 'do not insist on it;—pray let me walk.'

"'Get up this instant,' he replied, 'and do not irritate me, or my whip shall enforce your obedience!'—He was going to execute his threat, when I lifted his trembling daughter on the saddle, and, taking hold of the bridle, told my companions I would soon rejoin them, then, begging her to dispel her apprehensions, for I would guide her horse, led it by the side of her father's.

"She looked her thanks for my care, whilst a faint smile played through her tears; nor was my precaution useless, as the frequent starts of the frightened animal plainly showed he would again have hurried his lovely mistress into danger, if he had not been restrained by a more powerful hand.

"Her father, as his passion subsided, I believe, became more conscious of her danger; for when we had proceeded nearly a mile, he stopped, and, alighting, commanded the servant to change the saddles; the man obeyed with alacrity, and in a few minutes had the satisfaction of seeing her on her father's horse; that gentleman mounting the runaway steed; then, with more politeness than Iexpected from his preceding behaviour, he thanked me for the attention I had shown his daughter: and wishing me good evening, bowed and proceeded on his way. I remained on the spot, my eyes directed after them, till they quitted the road, when I slowly retraced my way to the college.

"This incident remained, with the image of the lovely girl, impressed for some time on my mind; but in vain I visited every place of public amusement, or inquired amongst my acquaintance, no one knew the person I described.

"Time had nearly effaced the circumstance from my mind, when I received my mother's letter, enjoining me to returnto the Parsonage. I obeyed, and, the day after my arrival, was going to the cottage of Owen, for the purpose of meeting Thomas, when, on approaching the spot we have now passed, I beheld three females, and as many children; one, who appeared by her dress to be superior to the others, was seated on a ridge of rock, caressing the infants; one appeared a servant, and the other, by the loudness of her exclamations and thanks, I discovered to be an object of charity, whom the beneficence of the first had relieved. I approached, and with surprise beheld the features of her I had formerly assisted; but, gracious Heaven, how was every charm improved! She as instantly recalled me to remembrance, and, with a blush which heightened every beauty, roseto return my salutation. At that moment I forgot the purport of my walk—my mother—all but the lovely object before me. In answer to my expressions of surprise, at meeting her in such an unfrequented place, she informed me, she was on a visit to a relation of her mother, who resided not more than two miles off; then, in terms as elegant as language could express, or gratitude inspire, she thanked me for the assistance I had formerly afforded her; enumerated each little circumstance of the adventure, and again repeated her thanks. They led to other subjects: the woman and her children retired toward the village, and the time passed imperceptibly, till her maid warned her it was time to return to the house of her friend. I would have escorted her;but she declined my offer, adding—'As I informed you, I am under the care of a relation, whose ideas of propriety are too rigidly severe, to let her pardon such a liberty, should I grant it: and I think you, who so humanely saved my life, would not wish, even for a moment, to render that life unpleasant or unhappy.'

"I could urge no farther, and with a smile which nearly compensated for her refusal, she presented her hand as she bade me farewell.—My peace fled with her! Each look, each word, her vivacity, the animation which sparkled in her eyes, were all impressed on my heart—and too deeply to be ever effaced!

"The moment she disappeared frommy sight, I regretted that I had not asked her name; hope, however, whispered I might soon again behold her, and, after vainly endeavouring to catch a glimpse of her between the distant trees, I recalled to mind the cottage of Owen, to which I then directed my steps. Thomas soon joined me, and with the highest exultation of joy, informed me he had obtained the will of my deceased uncle! I hugged the worthy old man in my arms, and with quicker steps than I went, returned with him to the Parsonage.

"The transports of my mother and Mrs. Blond nearly equalled those of Thomas, and joyfully did we anticipate the return of Sir Henry, and his restoration to the honours of his house: butshort-lived was our promised happiness! The next morning Thomas returned, and with the bitterest exclamations of sorrow, delivered the account of his death.

"Wretched indeed were the moments which succeeded this intelligence; for, in him, we had lost our only protector against the wiles of Lady Corbet: the return of Mr. Talton added to our apprehensions, and the next morning we privately quitted the Parsonage. My expectation and hope of again beholding this enchanting girl, were thus destroyed: in my mind she is ever present; but, from that period I have never beheld her."

"Your heart, Edward," said the Captainafter a pause, "I am afraid, has been too susceptible: yet my love for your mother was as sudden, and equalled that of yours for this fair Unknown. You are, however, returned to the most probable place to gain intelligence of her; if, as she said, she have relations residing so near Mr. Talton. Seek and inquire after her; and if you find—and she prove worthy of you, neither fortune, nor your father's consent, shall be wanted to ensure your happiness."

Edward thanked his father with a vivacity he had rarely before shown; adding—"Often have I wished to acquaint my mother with my predilection for this Unknown, and intreat her permission to seek her; but, the difficulties we have been involvedin, her fear of being discovered, and her superior fear that I should quit her maternal arms to seek a father (whom I knew not, till the report of Sir Henry's death, to be in existence), has repeatedly checked the confidence I ever designed to place in her."

They continued conversing, till Mr. Talton inquired the cause of their desertion; when they hastened to rejoin him, and soon after arrived at the seat of that gentleman; where they received intelligence that Lady Corbet had returned to the Hall the preceding day.

She had, indeed, been informed, when near London, by a gentleman, whom she accidentally met, and who was personallyacquainted with Sir Henry, of his seeing him at Bristol with Captain Howard; she, therefore, gave up the idea of going to London, and immediately proceeded to Bristol, where she learned, the Captain had some time since gone on an excursion into the country; but to what part no one could inform her. Perplexed at this account, and fatigued with her journey, she resigned her first intention of pursuing Sir Henry, and resolved to return to the Hall; as the vigilance of Mr. Talton, she doubted not, would soon recover her son, without her immediate assistance in the search. To her great astonishment, a few days after, she was informed Sir Henry was a visitant at Mr. Talton's; and, unable to reconcile the circumstance with that gentleman's professions of attachment to herself,wrote to him, to request the favour of an interview."

"I shall certainly comply with her Ladyship's desire," said Mr. Talton, on perusing her note; "as I hope, by alarming her with a pretended recourse to justice, I shall induce her to resign the estates of Sir Henry; and, as witnesses may be proper, shall beg the attendance of you, Howard, and Lieutenant Booyers."

These gentlemen readily assented; but before they were prepared for their departure, perceived her Ladyship's equipage advancing up the avenue. Sir Henry started on beholding it.

"Would to Heaven," he cried, "thisinterview were over! I think, Mr. Talton, I had better retire."

"Louise, my love," said Harland, "let me conduct you to your apartment. Your pallid looks convince me, an interview with your mother ought not now to take place."

"No, Harland," answered Louise, "let me stay. Long have I ardently wished to be blessed with the sight of her who gave me being; to hear the voice of a parent, though circumstances forbid my hoping to receive a blessing: then, I entreat you, let me stay. Believe me, if I tremble, it is for her; unprepared to answer so serious an accusation; to meet those she has so greatly injured!"

Harland reluctantly consented.

"You can stay, my dear girl," said Mrs. Blond; "but, as my presence is not necessary, I shall beg leave to accompany Sir Henry:" and a servant then announcing the arrival of their visitant, she took Sir Henry by the arm, and hastily quitted the room.

With that innate elegance which marked her demeanour, Lady Corbet entered the drawing-room: the appearance of such an unexpected party, for a moment checked the smile which played on her lips; but, quickly recovering herself, she informed Mr. Talton of the report which had reached her, and begged to know if Sir Henry were actually under his roof, or if it werethe appearance of the youth she beheld, which gave rise to the rumour?

"I do not wonder at your Ladyship's perceiving the resemblance of Captain Howard's son to Sir Henry," said Mr. Talton; "it is indeed an uncommon one. But this young gentleman is too well known in these parts, although you, Madam, never before beheld him, to be mistaken for Sir Henry, who, as you have been informed, is certainly in my house. It was my intention to have waited on your Ladyship, as I have a circumstance of some importance to unfold: the present period, however, may answer as well; and, as Sir Henry has chosen me his joint-guardian with Captain Howard, we will, if you please, come to the point at once."

Lady Corbet bowed, and Mr. Talton continued—"Disagreeable is the task I have imposed on myself: but, as I think it my duty to make reparation, as far as lies in my power, for the injuries I have, however unintentionally, committed; your Ladyship must pardon me for espousing a cause, which will prove so detrimental to yourself."

"I cannot comprehend, Mr. Talton," interrupted Lady Corbet, "to what you allude; and will thank you to come, as you said, to the point at once. My son, you inform me, has chosen you his guardian: I would wish to know from what motive; or what induced you to accept the trust?"

"To reinstate him in his rights, Lady Corbet," answered Mr. Talton; "of which, I am sorry to say, you have deprived him."

"This is an accusation, Sir," said Lady Corbet, haughtily rising, "you have no right to make; and an insult I did not expect from you."

"I do not wish to discompose you, Madam," said Mr. Talton, coolly; "pray be seated. This accusation, though of a most serious nature, is not the only one I have to offer. Injuries designed against myself I can pardon; but, not those you wished to make me the instrument of committing toward others. But this is deviating from the principal charge—your Ladyship,I presume, is conscious the will produced, and by which you hold the possessions of the late Sir Henry, is a false one?"

"I can now pardon the treatment I have received," answered Lady Corbet, recovering her composure. "My unhappy son, I perceive, has been relating a tale, originating in his own distempered imagination: yet, surely, you might have acted with greater delicacy, than to accuse me thus in company, even had you, my friend, supposed the improbable account to be true."

"It is past supposition, Lady Corbet," said Mr. Talton: "proofs have confirmed its truth. As for Sir Henry being insane, the idea is absurd: although, I acknowledge,the treatment he received at your hands, was more than sufficient to have deprived an indifferent person of their senses, much less a son, who ought to have expected a different conduct in his mother!"

"Conduct!" repeated Lady Corbet. "I know not, Sir, what you would insinuate: but my conduct as a mother, and in every respect, will bear any scrutiny you can make!"

"It must soon be brought to the proof," said Mr. Talton; "though I greatly fear it will not stand the test!"

"What mean you, Sir!" exclaimed Lady Corbet, exalting her voice. "I would not have you imagine, because Ihave demeaned myself, by permitting an intimacy, that you are authorised to treat me with this freedom! Lady Corbet, Sir, believe me, will not be insulted with impunity!"

"Have you not deserved this treatment, Lady Corbet?" asked Mr. Talton solemnly. "Nay more!—Look round this circle—here are more than one to prove the injustice of your conduct. This Lady, you falsely informed me, your husband kept previously to his marriage—an abandoned mistress: and, as such, did you not drive his sister destitute on the world?—Demeaned by my acquaintance!—There sits a living proof of that existing between yourself and the Steward of your father. This young lady was left an infant atRennes, nearly twenty years since, by Mallet; and is, as I have been informed, the daughter of her whom I am now addressing, and entitled to the sum of thirty thousand pounds, bequeathed in trust to you, by the late Miss Louisa Holly! I mention these circumstances, Madam, just to convince you—"

"Spare—spare my mother!" shrieked Louise, wringing her hands, "I want no fortune! Force not a parent's curses on my head!"

"Compose yourself, my Louise," said the alarmed Harland; "and let consideration for your husband calm these transports!"—But, breaking from his arms, she threw herself at the feet of the apparentlyhorror-stricken Lady Corbet; clasped her hand to her bosom, and, faintly murmuring—"Oh my mother!" sunk insensible on the floor.

She was immediately conveyed from the room by her husband, followed by Mrs. Howard, Ellen, and Eliza. Mr. Talton's agitation, which he in vain strove to conquer, prevented his immediately proceeding; but, the Captain perceiving Lady Corbet recovering from her surprise, said,

"I believe, Madam, you will no longer wonder at Mr. Talton's becoming, with me, the guardian of your son; who, at length, has consented to commit his cause to the decision of justice: and, the ensuing term, will commence a suit, which, I amafraid, will render you an object of abhorrence in every worthy heart."

"And who art thou?" asked Lady Corbet, scornfully, "or by what right dare you impute these crimes to me—or threaten me with an appeal to justice? The estates—the property I hold—are mine; nor can you deprive me of them. By the will of my husband I hold them; and, protected by the law, I will enjoy them!"

"The will you hold them by, Madam," repeated Mr. Talton, "is a false one! and so it shall be proved, to your utter confusion!"

"Assuredly," cried Lady Corbet, "Iought to discredit my senses, which tell me it is Talton who addresses me; or, you, perhaps, my good friend, are affected by the phantasms of your new ward! I can prove him insane from the evidence of my servants; think then, what weight his accusation will have in a court of judicature!—But, if the will, which awarded this property to me, be false—where, Sir, is the real one?—Produce it!—and by that, if you can, prove the illegality of my tenure!"

"As I told you, Madam," said Talton, "neither proofs—nor witnesses, substantial ones too, are wanting. To oblige Sir Henry, who does not forget you are his mother, though you have proved unmindful of that tie, I should have waited on you,that you might not be unprepared for the charge: for there are many circumstances, too tedious to be now discussed, which must be explained in a court of justice! The real will of the late Sir Henry is found, and now in my possession: from whence it will pass to that of the Lord Chancellor; together with a packet, likewise of your husband's writing, containing an account of your proceedings and conversations with your favourite, Mallet; which he overheard, by means of a closet in the private room adjoining your apartment; and by which means, the present Sir Henry is likewise well informed of every artifice you have used to make him appear insane, and your intentions to have destroyed the will, could you have discovered it!"

He was prevented from proceeding, by the horror which appeared in the countenance of Lady Corbet. An universal trembling seized her frame, and, had not the Captain supported her, she would have sunk on the floor: he replaced her on the settee, and when she had in some degree recovered from this agitation of guilt and fear, he said:—"A candid confession on your part, Lady Corbet, with the restoration of the property bequeathed Sir Henry, by his father, are the only means to avoid the ruin which threatens you. It is not my wish, nor Mr. Talton's, far less Sir Henry's, to bring his mother to a public trial; but justice, either by your hand or ours, shall be rendered him! If you refuse to afford it him—all shall be discovered!"

"All is discovered!" cried Lady Corbet, distractedly. "But never shall Henry triumph over me, in a court of justice! No—sooner shall my own hand plunge me into eternity!"

"Little are you prepared for so serious a change," said Talton. "You may fly from the accusations of a son, but would meet those of a husband, injured in every respect, before a Being from whom there is no escape: and whose justice, though blended with mercy, is equal to his power! Rather, Lady Corbet, endeavour to atone for your past actions, and by a life of repentance, seek that mercy, you at present so little deserve!"

This address, delivered in a manner,equally solemn and affecting, appeared to increase the horror of Lady Corbet.

"Louise, too;" she faintly articulated;—"would I had not seen her! But no matter, there is still a resource!"—She burst into tears; then, after a moment's pause, hastily continued—"I presume, Sir, you have nothing farther to communicate, and I am now at liberty to depart?"

Mr. Talton bowed, and ringing the bell, Lady Corbet, in a state approaching nearly to derangement, followed the servant to her carriage, and returned to the Hall.

Mr. Talton silently paced the room, some minutes after her departure; he had gained the triumph over his feelings in this interview, but, he felt, too dearly, and would cheerfully have resigned half of his fortune, had Lady Corbet proved herself as amiable as he formerly thought her. He was soon joined by all the party, except Louise, who was too ill to leave her apartment; and Sir Henry being anxious to know the particulars of the interview,requested him to recount what had passed. Mr. Talton instantly complied.

"Forbid it, Heaven," Sir Henry ejaculated, as he concluded, "that she should meditate suicide! Never more should I experience a moment's happiness! Sooner would I embrace the most abject poverty, than enjoy a state of affluence by driving a mother to self-destruction!"

"I do not apprehend her Ladyship will commit any act of desperation on herself," said Mr. Talton: "but rather, as I intended by alarming her, endeavour to escape from justice, by resigning your possessions."

He was right in his conjecture: LadyCorbet, justly alarmed at the discovery of her guilt, and dreading the power of that justice she pretended to despise, immediately on her return to the Hall, summoned Mallet, and, informing him of what had happened, ordered him to repair to London, and withdraw her property, amounting to nearly fourscore thousand pounds, exclusive of Louise's fortune, from the funds, and follow her to France.

Mallet by no means approved of her precipitation:—"I wish your safety, Lady Corbet," he answered, after a pause; "yet reflect before you determine on flight. Did Talton produce the will?—No! Then may not this accusation be a plan to entice you to confess what, I grant, they may suspect, but cannot prove! Where—orhow should Talton have obtained the will? Sir Henry possessed it not when he quitted the Hall, or this claim would have been made sooner. But even supposing this account of their having it to be true, (which I can scarcely credit), may there not be means to get it from their possession?—Reflect a little, Caroline, and if you can keep—there is no occasion to throw away so much property."

Lady Corbet hesitated—"If I can keep—Charles: but impossible! Talton too surely has the will: he is not a man either to trifle or be trifled with. Yet how—where—or when he could obtain it—"

"Is at present," interrupted Mallet, "of very little consequence. Had the measuresI advised been pursued, this would never have occurred: but as it is—all I can say is, if he really have it, means must be found to get it from him."

"Impossible—impossible, Charles!"

"Why so, Lady Corbet? Consent to give me your hand if I succeed, and trust to my management for the obtaining of it—if in his possession."

"I do consent!—I will consent to any thing," answered the agitated Lady Corbet, "on the condition you have named!"

"But one question, then," said her crafty lover: "Where does Talton keep his papers of consequence?"

"In a cabinet, which stands in his chamber. But wherefore do you ask?—What means do you propose to pursue?"

"Forcible ones," replied Mallet, "if I find them requisite."

"Let them be prudent, cautious, and expeditious," said Lady Corbet, emphatically: "and if danger await me, be quick as fear itself to give me intelligence!"

They separated; and Mallet, his head teeming with various projects, proceeded toward Mr. Talton's. On approaching the house, he perceived the servants were assembled in their own apartment; he, therefore, confidently enteredby one of the lower windows, and, being well acquainted with every room, hastened to that Lady Corbet had mentioned. His heart beat with malicious pleasure on beholding the cabinet; and, securing the door, to prevent discovery, he lightly advanced, and with trembling impatience attempted to open the drawers. All, however, were secured; he then tried various keys, but without effect; and being certain no time was to be lost, resolutely applied a chissel he had brought, and forced the lock of the principal drawer. He looked not far for the will; the hand-writing of the deceased Sir Henry soon met his view, and, hastily securing his prize, he, with an exulting heart, was retreating from the chamber, when Sir Henry, who with Harland, had left the drawing-room tovisit Louise, returned from her apartment. The figure of Mallet caught his eye, and the appearance of the cabinet forced open as instantly disclosed the reason of his being there. Sir Henry sprung to oppose his escape, and seizing him by the collar, demanded the restitution of the writings he had so feloniously obtained. Rendered desperate by this unexpected discovery, Mallet, after vainly struggling for liberation, drew the chissel from his pocket, and aimed a stroke at the bosom of Sir Henry.

It was too well directed to have failed in its effect, and Sir Henry must inevitably have fallen a victim, had not Harland, surprised by his exclamation, hastened from his wife's apartment, and,perceiving his danger, torn the destructive weapon from the hand of the assassin!

Mallet was still endeavouring to force his way from Sir Henry, when Mr. Talton and the Captain, surprised at the scuffle, hastened to the spot, followed by Frederick, Edward, and several of the servants, who had likewise been alarmed. The cause was soon explained, and Mallet effectually secured; he was then searched, and the will, with the packet written by the deceased Sir Henry, produced.

"Lady Corbet, I find," said Mr. Talton, "is resolved to tear her image from my heart! By heavens! this last action exceeds all I could ever have supposed a woman, and a mother, couldhave been guilty of!—For you, Mallet, your life shall answer for this outrage!"

This last sentence, pronounced with uncommon energy, reached the ear of Louise, who rushed into the passage.—"He is—he is my father," she cried in a voice of anguish. "Oh, for my sake, have mercy!" She threw herself at the feet of Mr. Talton, who, with Sir Henry and Harland, endeavoured to raise her from the floor, as the former said—"He has attempted the life of your brother, Mrs. Harland. But retire to your chamber, this scene is not fit for you."

Harland would have borne her away; but, with the wildest screams, she broke from him, and threw herarms round the neck of Mallet, who appeared as much confounded at her claim, as at the discovery of his preceding action.

"I am your Louise," sobbed his agitated daughter; "her whom you left at the gates of St. Ursule.—Will you not speak to me, and say you are my father?"

"The name of father," answered Mallet sullenly, "affords no pleasure to me, but has given a stab to my heart, I never thought to have experienced. Neither, I think, can it be gratifying to your ears, if you recollect the treatment you have received at my hands. If you wish, however, to show yourself my daughter, remind Sir Henry it is not in my power or your mother's now toinjure him. I am at his mercy; but I do not expect to find it."

Louise turned a tearful eye to Sir Henry.—"My brother!" plaintively escaped her lips, and falling on his bosom, she wept in silence.

"Compose yourself, my dear girl:" said Sir Henry: "the tears of Louise can never plead in vain!—Go, Sir," he continued, addressing Mallet, as he unfastened the cord which confined him.—"For Louise's sake, you are free: and that this evening's transactions may teach you a useful lesson, take with you the forgiveness of the man you would have deprived—even of life!"

"I will not oppose your generous sentence, Sir Henry," said Mr. Talton; "but if you, Mallet, be found in this part of the country to-morrow—the next morning, notwithstanding Sir Henry's clemency, you shall certainly be the inmate of a prison."

Louise wrung her hands, and again burst into tears; whilst Mallet's brow assumed a deeper gloom: but, as he passed her, he said—"This is, most probably, then, Louise, our last interview. As the merit of my release rests with you, may a better blessing than mine be your reward!" He descended the stairs, followed by Mr. Talton and the servants; whilst Louise, satisfied by his liberation and benediction, yielded to Harland'sentreaties, that she would retire to her own apartment.

In the mean time, Mallet retraced his steps to Corbet Hall; one moment furious from the loss of the prize he had obtained; the next, overwhelmed with shame at his detection. Unwillingly he approached Lady Corbet, who awaited his return with the utmost anxiety and impatience; eagerly her eyes glanced to catch intelligence from his; they sparkled not with exultation—"What hopes—what success—what fortune—await me?" she hastily interrogated. "Your only hopes—are in flight!" answered Mallet, churlishly. "Sir Henry has, indeed, the will to produce, with the packet Talton mentioned." He then recounted what hadpassed: but, when Lady Corbet learned, the will had actually been in his possession, and that he had neglected to destroy, the moment he obtained it, her rage exceeded the power of restraint.

Mallet listened impatiently to her reproaches; and at last said—"The best concerted schemes, Caroline, may sometimes be rendered abortive; nor can I in the least reproach myself for the failure of this. But, it is useless wasting time in words, which ought to be employed in making preparations for a safe retreat; and, as our affairs are situated, the sooner we depart the better."

"But for your foolish prevention, Sir," said Lady Corbet, "I should, ere thistime, have been beyond the reach of Talton: but you, forsooth, must raise hopes—only, by a futile project, to dash them more forcibly to the ground, and make me more sensibly feel the loss of wealth and honour, by reflecting, you had it in your power—but neglected—to secure them to me!"

She left him with increasing anger, yet with every fear awake to apprehended danger. She, therefore, packed up jewels and money to a considerable amount; and, a little after midnight, set out for Pembroke; leaving Sir Henry to establish his rights as he thought proper.

In the mean time, Sir Henry experienced a state of anxiety and wretchedness,little inferior to Lady Corbet's. He had given the power of acting as they wished, into the hands of Mr. Talton and the Captain: his mother, they had promised, should not be exposed: but, he feared, this last disappointment of her plans, and discovery of her principles, might, indeed, instigate her to some act of desperation.

His apprehensions were relieved the next morning, when the following laconic letter was delivered to Mr. Talton:—

"Tell my unnatural son, he never shall triumph over the fall of his mother!—By the time this reaches your hands, I shall have bidden an eternal adieu to England; to seek a retreatwhere I may securely laugh at, and despise both him and the power of justice."As Louise's offence of appearing in my presence, I believe, was unintentional, tell her, I forgive her—and, some years hence, may, perhaps, be induced to remember I am her mother."Caroline Corbet."

"Tell my unnatural son, he never shall triumph over the fall of his mother!—By the time this reaches your hands, I shall have bidden an eternal adieu to England; to seek a retreatwhere I may securely laugh at, and despise both him and the power of justice.

"As Louise's offence of appearing in my presence, I believe, was unintentional, tell her, I forgive her—and, some years hence, may, perhaps, be induced to remember I am her mother.

"Caroline Corbet."

The satisfaction of Sir Henry's friends at this event, so much more favourable than they had expected, could be equalled only by his own, at the disappointment of his fears, respecting his mother. Cheerfully he returned their gratulations; till Mr. Talton reminded him, it was requisite he should go to the Hall, and examine into the state of his affairs. A carriagewas accordingly ordered, and Sir Henry, accompanied by Mr. Talton and the Captain, took possession of his paternal habitation. On inquiring after the retreat of Lady Corbet, the housekeeper informed them, she had left the Hall, unattended, and in a hired carriage; and that Mallet was likewise gone—they knew not whither.

The tenantry were then assembled; who with satisfaction admitted the justice of his claim, and openly rejoiced at their young landlord's succession to the fortunes of his father. On examining the accounts of Mallet, Sir Henry was induced to coincide with Mr. Talton's opinion, that his mother had not left England unprovided for; and knowing that his father, at hisdecease, had money to a considerable amount, in the Caermarthen and Pembroke banks, immediately agreed to his guardians proposal, of going to those places, that he might be certified what property he had still remaining. Accordingly, writing to his friends at Mr. Talton's, to acquaint them with their proceedings, they set out for Pembroke.

Whilst Sir Henry and his guardians were thus employed, Edward, authorised by the previous approbation of his father, commenced his inquiry after the fair Unknown. Nor was the heart of Frederick more at ease than Edward's: from the time he beheld Ellen at the grave of her aunt, he had cherished a secret attachment.Restrained, however, by the consideration of his dependent state, he would have refrained from an avowal of his love; but, unused to disguise, the secret of his heart escaped him: nor could the artless Ellen conceal the delight which sparkled in her intelligent eyes at the declaration; yet a moment after saw them suffused in tears.

"Prudence, Frederick," she timidly answered, "must forbid your encouraging any sentiments of regard for me. I am an orphan, and, though not friendless, poor in the extreme!"

"I am equally poor, Ellen," said Frederick; "for I have no certainty but my commission, and might term myself anorphan, like you, for any consideration I expect from my parents. Yet, in a few years, promotion may place me in independence. I have a real and generous friend in my uncle, though I have no right to expect—nor do I—that he should deprive Edward of any part of his property on my account. I am a sailor, and must fight for fortune; and cheerfully could I face every danger my profession exposes me to, if assured the hand of Ellen would at last be my reward."

"My uncle, Frederick," she replied, "must here direct my conduct,—if he approve, Ellen will not oppose your wishes. I want not grandeur in my establishment for life; but will never marry, to involve the man I esteem in difficulties,which may destroy—instead of securing—his happiness."

"Such were my hopes, and such the answer of my Hannah!" said Lieutenant Booyers, entering from an inner apartment, "May your fate, my children, prove more fortunate than hers and mine! Frederick, I esteem and respect you; nor know I the man, on whom I would sooner bestow my Ellen—the only treasure I now can boast. You certainly are entitled to a provision from your father, equally with his other children: if he will settle five thousand pounds on my girl, I will, with pleasure, consent to your union; and afterwards, my young friend—fight for fortune!"

Scarcely could Frederick find words to thank the worthy Booyers for his generous consent, which raised a hope, that his father, who possessed nearly eight thousand a year, might be prevailed on to part with the sum proposed.

He wrote to Sir Arthur immediately: of his uncle's concurrence, he entertained not a doubt; and impatiently waited the answer which would, as he imagined, confirm or destroy the happiness of his life.

At last it arrived—and in an instant doomed him to despair! Sir Arthur, after expressing his surprise at the application, reminded him of the Captain's agreement to establish him in life. To him, therefore, he desired Frederick to make his claim;and concluded with expressly forbidding any farther demands.

"Here then end all my flattering prospects of felicity!" sighed Frederick.—"Unkind father! Unjustly you condemn me to wretchedness, to enrich a son, whose regard, I am convinced, does not exceed, nor perhaps equal—mine. To my uncle I can never apply—he has done too much already."

He pensively paced the room, when the appearance of the Captain roused him from his disagreeable reflections. The concern he felt was too deeply impressed on his countenance, to escape the observation of his uncle, who, perceiving the letter of hisbrother lying on the table, immediately read it.

"This accounts for your unusual dejection, Frederick," he said. "But for what purpose do you want five thousand pounds?"

The question brought on an explanation. Frederick ingenuously confessed the state of his heart, and briefly recounted his interview with Ellen and the Lieutenant. The Captain expressed his approbation of his choice, and the conduct of Booyers; adding, with a smile, "Your father's refusal, Frederick, shall never be a hindrance to your happiness. But where is my Ellenor? I am come to escort her to the Hall, where Sir Henryimpatiently expects her; Mr. Talton having agreed to remain there till his affairs are finally adjusted."

Mrs. Howard and her friends were soon informed of the Captain's return, and the proposed removal; and, leaving directions for the servants to follow them, they proceeded to the Hall.

Sir Henry received them with open arms, and warmly congratulated his aunt on beholding her once more beneath her paternal roof. He then conducted them to the drawing-room, where they were soon after joined by Mr. Talton and the Captain, who had left them on their arrival. The latter advanced to his nephew, and, presenting him with a writing,said, "This deed, Frederick, I had executed whilst at Pembroke; and rejoice it is thus in my power to render you happy, by securing you the means of uniting yourself to an amiable woman. Not that I would have you regard this as my final intention in your favour. The affection and attention I have so many years received from you, I can never recompense: but at my death, or before, if it be requisite, you shall find me mindful of the obligation."

Frederick opened the deed, which secured to him the sum of twenty thousand pounds. "My dear—my generous uncle!" he exclaimed, clasping his hand with grateful affection, "never can I sufficiently acknowledge the many instancesI have experienced of your regard. Poor indeed must be my attempts to thank you; but every act is treasured in the inmost recesses of my heart!"

The Captain embraced him.—"Enough, my dear Frederick: if you be happy, I am fully gratified."

The worthy Booyers, warmly participated in the joy of the moment; and readily agreed to the Captain's proposal, that the nuptials should take place at an early period.

Sir Henry, at the same time, took the opportunity of presenting Louise and his aunt with the fortunes his father had mentioned. The Captain would have checked his generosity;but he declared that the wish of his father should be fulfilled the same as though specified in a legal will. Then gaily turning to Eliza, he continued, "I must now become a supplicant! Will you, my beloved girl, consent to bless me with your hand on the day your friend, Ellen, becomes the bride of Howard?"

"I despise affectation, Henry," answered Eliza: "yet not from me, but my mother, you must receive your answer. If she grant your suit, I will cheerfully attend you to the altar."

"Dearest, best of girls!" exclaimed Sir Henry.—"To you then, my mother, I must now refer."

"And from that saucy smile on your brow, Harry," said Mrs. Blond, laughing, "I should suppose, you think yourself ensured of success, before you ask. I will not, however, disappoint you: the happiness of Corbet is too dear to my heart."

"Would you, my dear Madam," said Talton, "as readily consent to a proposal from me, I should rejoice in depriving Sir Henry of his mother: or rather—as I ever wished—to become his father. As Corbet Hall will so soon own the lovely Eliza for its mistress, I should deem myself inexpressibly happy, would her mother consent to grace the mansion of Talton. I have long regarded Sir Henry as my son; I love your daughter as myown: and by uniting our families, I flatter myself it would increase the felicity of all."

"A fair proposal!" said the Captain. "Never demur, my dear Mrs. Blond; but accede to it as cheerfully as you did to Sir Henry's."


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