The Mysterious Wanderer Volume Iii Part 7

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 an orphan, 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 a.s.sured 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 ent.i.tled 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 his brother 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 Henry impatiently 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 instances I 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 partic.i.p.ated 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 my own: 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."

"This proposal," replied Mrs. Blond, in some confusion, "requires consideration; but my answer shall be sincere."

Mr. Talton urged no farther; and preparations were commenced for the marriages of Sir Henry and Frederick; when, one morning, a servant hastily entered, and announced the arrival of a messenger from Cornwall.

"From Cornwall!" exclaimed Sir Henry. "Good G.o.d! what can this mean?

Some fatal accident, I am afraid, has befallen my mother! Show the messenger up, this instant."

The servant obeyed, and an elderly countryman entered the room. He advanced with an humble bow to Sir Henry, and, in simple language, informed him, he rented the princ.i.p.al part of the Cornwall estate, belonging to Lady Corbet; who was then at the old Mansion-house, confined by a fractured arm; and as the surgeon who attended her, apprehended she was in danger, he thought it requisite to acquaint Sir Henry; more especially as Lady Corbet, who, he acknowledged, was sometimes delirious, had once expressed a wish to see him and a gentleman of the name of Talton.

"I will immediately go to Cornwall," said Sir Henry. "The attentions of a son may soothe the anguish which oppresses her. And you, Mr.

Talton--will you accompany me?--My mother may be worse than she is represented."

"I will readily accompany you, Sir Henry," said Mr. Talton. "If I have ceased to regard Lady Corbet with affection, I do not forget the sentiments I once entertained."

Orders were accordingly given to prepare for their departure, when Sir Henry anxiously inquired the particulars of the accident which had befallen his mother.

Lady Corbet, who, on quitting the Hall, had designed proceeding to France, altered her resolution before she reached Pembroke; and, crossing the Channel, went to her estate in Cornwall, where she was soon after joined by Mallet, and where she proposed to remain, deeming herself secure from the knowledge of Mr. Talton, till she should learn his farther proceedings; and whence, if she found it necessary, she could instantly fly the kingdom.

Mallet had been with her about a week, the tenant informed Sir Henry, when a disagreement had arisen, which occasioned his abrupt departure.

That Lady Corbet had appeared very much agitated, and at last commanded a chaise to be prepared, to convey her to Plymouth; for which place she set out, but had not proceeded more than half a mile, when, by the carelessness of the driver, the chaise was overturned, and her arm severely injured. Lady Corbet was brought, by some country-people, back to the mansion-house, and a surgeon sent for, who on examining the limb, declared there was a necessity to amputate it; but Lady Corbet peremptorily refused to submit to the operation, and desired him to set the bone, which had been broken in three separate places. He obeyed; but a fever immediately followed; and, as he had every apprehension of a mortification ensuing, he had desired the farmer to hasten and acquaint Sir Henry.

Sir Henry's countenance a.s.sumed a more pallid hue at this relation; impatiently he inquired if the horses were ready: and on Mrs. Howard anxiously urging him to take some refreshment before he commenced his journey, he wrung her hand, saying, "I feel your affectionate care, my dear aunt; but at this moment my heart is too much oppressed to let me think of refreshments. Even now--may not my mother be expiring: ere she forgives--or knows how dear she still is to the heart of--her Henry."

Louise regarded Sir Henry some moments, with an expressive countenance--"Let me too, my brother, accompany you. My humble affection will not be rejected, and the approving blessing of a mother may yet reward the years of anxious solicitude, I have experienced."

"You could not, my dear girl," answered Sir Henry, "support the fatigue of travelling, at the rate I wish to go. Yet follow us--Harland will escort you." Harland readily consented, and a chaise was prepared, in which they departed, in less than an hour after Sir Henry.

In the mean time, Sir Henry and Mr. Talton travelled with the utmost expedition to Llaugharne, and, crossing the Channel, proceeded towards the ancient seat of Lady Corbet. They were received by Mrs. Brown, the tenant's wife, who informed them the surgeon's fears were verified; a mortification had commenced, and Lady Corbet, at last sensible of her danger, had, that morning, desired Sir Henry and Louise might be sent for. Though prepared for this intelligence, Sir Henry was still affected on receiving it; he, however, struggled with his feelings, and requested she would inform his mother of his arrival, and his wish to see her, if her spirits were equal to the interview. She soon returned, and conducted him to her apartment. The surgeon and a female attendant were stationed by the bed, on which, supported by pillows, was extended the still beautiful Lady Corbet. The fever's hectic glow had succeeded the light bloom of health on her cheek; and the wild l.u.s.tre of her eye plainly showed reason retained not its full powers. Sir Henry sprung to embrace her, and in a voice softened by tenderness and grief, breathed a prayer for the continuance of her existence.

"I little thought, Harry," she said, after an internal struggle, "ever to have beholden you again: but retributive justice has overtaken me, and I must submit to my fate!--But where is Louise?" she impatiently continued. "Does she despise the sufferings of a mother; or didst thou enviously wish to deprive her of a blessing?"

"Ah, my mother," answered Sir Henry, "stab not my heart by such a supposition;--in a few hours Louise will be here."

"And in a few hours," repeated Lady Corbet, with energy, "I may be numbered with the dead!"

"I do not apprehend your dissolution so soon as that," said the surgeon; "although I thought it my duty to tell you there are no longer any hopes of your recovery. Yet I would wish you not to increase your fever by too much exertion in speaking."

"Peace, dotard!" exclaimed Lady Corbet, angrily. "Without thou couldest bid me live!--But no--no--I must die: there are indeed no hopes for me!--Let me see Talton--they told me he was here." Her attendant hastened to desire his presence, and the surgeon renewing his request that she might be kept quiet, and as composed as possible, retired; promising to return in the evening. Mr. Talton obeyed the summons. On his approach, Lady Corbet said: "Thou art come then to behold her, who would have injured thee to the utmost--had it been in her power! Rejoice then in my fall--exult over my ashes--and, in the torments I now endure, be fully revenged!"

"Far be revenge from my heart," replied Talton: "to pity and relieve are its dictates; but never to triumph over the fallen or afflicted!"

"Well--well!" said Lady Corbet, with quickness, "I believe thee! Though were revenge thy wish, thou hast it--in its utmost extent! Mallet,--the ungrateful Mallet, has deserted me!--Struck with Louise, and her behaviour on the evening of his detection, he wished the restoration of her fortune; but instead of requesting, he commanded it! Had he entreated--pleaded her claim to maternal attention and justice, I think I should have complied! But, unused to commands, I peremptorily refused him: and, in return, he threatened, by the law's aid, to force me to a rest.i.tution of my aunt's fortune! Rendered furious by this insolence, I forbade him my sight; and, without seeking to mitigate my anger, he departed for France. Unable to endure his absence, when my pa.s.sion abated, I determined on following him; but fate forbade it, and, by means of a menial wretch, has torn the fascinating joys of life from my grasp, and hurled destruction on my head!" She burst into tears. "All will soon be over, Harry!--I rejoiced when Corbet died: he loved you--and was beloved: but no one will sorrow or weep for me!"

"Yes--yes, my mother!" said Sir Henry, "I will sorrow and weep for thee too!"

"Lay me not, I charge you, Harry," she wildly continued, "by Corbet--my ashes must not mingle with his. No, no--in the vault by my father--there I shall rest in peace!" She sunk exhausted on her pillow. Sir Henry anxiously watched the changes of her countenance, whilst Mr. Talton, with pity, contemplated the wretched situation of a woman, he once thought the most perfect of her s.e.x.

A broken slumber shed a partial oblivion over her senses, and for some hours relieved her from the tortures of remembrance. She awoke more collected, and impatiently inquired if Louise were arrived? The rattling of a carriage round the s.p.a.cious court, announced her approach, and in a few minutes the agitated Louise was pressed to the bosom of her mother!

"Welcome, Louise!" murmured Lady Corbet.--"Child of affection, though thou hast never been regarded as such--yet I love thee now, Louise.--And art thou the husband of my child?" she continued to Harland.--"Then I will say thou too art welcome. Poor thou marriedst my Louise; I therefore believe thou dost love her; and let not the remembrance of her mother ever induce thee to slight or contemn her. Mine was the vice--be mine the shame: if aught can ever be reflected from Louise! But no--no; the virtues of my Louise, like the beams of the morning, shall rise superior to the darkness of her parents actions!--Dark, indeed!"

she repeated, with a convulsive sigh.--"For we deserted thy infant innocence! Yet forgive me, Louise--curse not my memory; I will make thee rich amends for the injuries I have done thee!"