LETTER XXI.EmiliatoCharlotte.

What a fright have I had, and what anxiety and distress have I gone through! I must tell you all, and I know you will pity me. We were allowed yesterday to pay a visit to a gentleman, whose seat is about two hours ride from our house. Harry, our faithful Harry, (who came to live with us again after the death of his mother) went with us.

We spent a very pleasant day, and set out again for Grandison Hall about half past five o’clock. Harry seemed rather to lag behind, and we every now and then waited for him. We were conversing some time without thinking of him, when Charles looked round, and immediately perceived that Harry was not with us. I was alarmed, and I sawthat Charles was distressed. I think I see him yonder, said he; we will return, perhaps there is something the matter with his horse. We returned accordingly, but Charles went a little before me, because he was afraid of discovering something dreadful. And so indeed it proved. Never shall I forget the horror I felt when I saw Harry stretched motionless on the ground, the horse standing by as if he wished to take care of his rider. I called out for help, not recollecting there was nobody within hearing; Charles quickly dismounted, and bid me make myself easy: easy, cried I—alone in this solitary road in the evening with a dying man. Charles had advanced to Harry in the mean time, and assured me he was not dead. I would then have got off my horse, but my brother desired me to sit still; notwithstanding this, I jumped off without thinking, and immediately the horseran away. My brother had pulled off his coat to lay under Harry’s head. Harry still remained insensible. Imagine, Charlotte, my distress; I saw my brother was very much perplexed; but I will give you our conversation.

EMILIA.

My dear Charles, what will you do, it is dark already?

CHARLES.

I hope some traveller will soon go by who may afford us assistance. But where is your horse, my dear?

EMILIA.

My horse!—it was here just now. I was so anxious about Harry, that I did not perceive when he left me.

CHARLES.

He will find his way home; it cannot now be helped; but you should have secured him, sister, when you dismounted.

EMILIA.

It was very foolish, but I was so desirous to assist you I forgot every thing else.

CHARLES.

I know your good heart, Emilia.

EMILIA.

Dear brother, I am very anxious, who knows what may happen to us in this lonely road; we have nobody with us.

CHARLES.

Do not let us be too solicitous about our own safety; do you not see a fellow-creature dying near you: and can you think of the trifling inconveniences we may be exposed to?—God is with us.

He uttered this in a solemn tone of voice, and then looking at me with tenderness, entreated me to be calm. Picture to yourself now your friend Charles, without his coat, upon one knee, holdinghis right arm under Harry’s head, and with his left softly rubbing his temples: and every now and then he turned his eyes to heaven, and I saw the tears streaming down his cheeks.

EMILIA.

You sigh and weep in such a manner, Charles—is Harry dead?

CHARLES.

No, Emilia, he is yet living—perhaps he might yet be restored, could I obtain any help. God be merciful, said he, I cannot afford him any assistance—what shall I do?

EMILIA.

Since you are not able to afford him any assistance, had we not better——

CHARLES.

No, we must not go and leave a man to his fate who is insensible: he would not have served us so: misfortunes levelall imaginary distinctions in life: he would have ventured his life for us; we must do as we would be done by. How attentive was he to me in my last illness!

Here the tears came again into his eyes.

EMILIA.

And must we remain here all night?

CHARLES.

It may not be necessary; we must first think of doing right, and then leave the issue to God. Can we expect that he will have compassion on us if we show none? I should never be happy if I left this dying man.

EMILIA.

And so you forget what our father and mother are suffering at this instant, on account of our staying out so late.

CHARLES.

Can you suppose so, Emilia?—Oh, that somebody would come to our assistance! Try to calm your mind, my dear sister, I beseech you. I wish I had happened to have been alone, I should then have waited patiently to see the will of heaven.

EMILIA.

I am frightened—I heard something.

CHARLES.

You heard nothing but the falling of the leaves: come sit down here, Emilia, by me on the grass.

EMILIA.

We are very unfortunate!

CHARLES.

No, say not so; let us show that we are not inhuman, by thinking more of others than ourselves, who are not in any immediate danger.

EMILIA.

I will now endeavour to be easy; but I cannot help thinking of my father and mother.

CHARLES.

They will think that Harry is with us, and that we are very safe.

Charles then suddenly started up, and I saw Harry struggle violently:—for heaven’s sake, Emilia, walk away a little, said he, Harry is in a fit. I did so, for I was terrified. I turned round a moment, after hearing Charles cry out, Gracious God, Harry is dead, sister.—I was going to speak, but he begged me to compose myself; and then stood silently five or six minutes till he was certain the poor man had breathed his last. Charles took his coat, which lay under Harry’s head, and spread it over the body. While he was doing it he trembled very much, for I held his arm,afraid to go from him, when I saw, for the first time, a corpse. At last a violent flood of tears relieved him, and he took my hand, saying, now it is time to go—we have nothing more to do, for he is indeed dead. He made me get up behind him, as I was afraid to leave him. Oh, Charlotte, it is a dreadful thing to see a fellow-creature die! I shall never forget that evening.

We rode forward with great speed; and I could scarcely believe that we had left Harry behind, it all appeared like a frightful dream. About two hundred yards from the house, we heard two horses in a full gallop, coming towards us. I trembled like a leaf, and dreaded lest some new misfortune awaited us; but how great was my joy when I saw my father himself with Robert. I found they had all been in great confusion on account of the return of my horse, which one of the servants sawquietly feeding on the lawn. I cannot describe to you, my dear, with what fond affection I flew into the arms of my tender mother, who had undergone so much uneasiness on our account; I scarcely thought myself in safety till she pressed me to her heart—how glad I was to see all the people alive round me.

While I related the event, Charles sent a servant to take care of the body. My father said it might have been better had we returned immediately for assistance; yet he believed that he should not have left him in such a situation had he been there himself. I know you will be glad to hear that we are not much the worse for our fright, and that I am sincerely yours.

EMILIA.

P. S. Charles is to set off for Holland next Thursday. He has promisedto write to me very often, to make the time appear shorter. I told you before, that I hate these partings; but he will soon return, and bring our old friend William with him, and his mother and sister. Mean time I expect to have your company—do come, or I shall be quite dull.

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