IN WHICH, IF THE READER DOES NOT SYMPATHISE WITH THE PARTIES, HE HAD
BETTER SHUT THE BOOK.
In a few minutes Lady de Clare was sufficiently recovered to hear the
outline of our history; and as soon as it was over, she insisted upon
immediately going with us to the school where Fleta was domiciled, as
she could ascertain, by several marks known but to a nurse or mother, if
more evidence was required, whether Fleta was her child or not. To
allow her to remain in such a state of anxiety was impossible, Mr
Masterton agreed, and we posted to --, where we arrived in the evening.
"Now, gentlemen, leave me but one minute with the child, and when I ring
the bell, you may enter." Lady de Clare was in so nervous and agitated
a state, that she could not walk into the parlour without assistance.
We led her to a chair, and in a minute Fleta was called down.
Perceiving me in the passage, she ran to me. "Stop, my dear Fleta,
there is a lady in the parlour, who wishes to see you."
"A lady, Japhet?"
"Yes, my dear, go in."
Fleta obeyed, and in a minute we heard a scream, and Fleta hastily
opened the door, "Quick! quick! the lady has fallen down."
We ran in and found Lady de Clare on the floor, and it was some time
before she returned to her senses. As soon as she did, she fell down on
her knees, holding up her hands as in prayer, and then stretched her
arms out to Fleta. "My child! my long-lost child! it is--it is,
indeed!" A flood of tears poured forth on Fleta's neck relieved her,
and we then left them together; old Masterton observing, as we took our
seats in the back parlour, "By Gad, Japhet, you deserve to find your own
father!"
In about an hour Lady de Clare requested to see us. Fleta rushed into
my arms and sobbed, while her mother apologised to Mr Masterton for the
delay and excusable neglect towards him.
"Mr Newland, madam, is the person to whom you are indebted for your
present happiness. I will now, if you please, take my leave, and will
call upon you to-morrow."
"I will not detain you, Mr Masterton; but Mr Newland will, I trust,
come home with Cecilia and me; I have much to ask of him." I consented,
and Mr Masterton went back to town; I went to the principal hotel to
order a chaise and horses, while Fleta packed up her wardrobe.
In half an hour we set off, and it was midnight before we arrived at
Richmond. During my journey I narrated to Lady de Clare every
particular of our meeting with Fleta. We were all glad to go to bed;
and the kind manner in which Lady de Clare wished me good night, with
"God bless you, Mr Newland!" brought the tears into my eyes.
I breakfasted alone the next morning, Lady de Clare and her daughter
remaining up stairs. It was nearly twelve o'clock when they made their
appearance, both so apparently happy, that I could not help thinking,
"When shall I have such pleasure--when shall I find out who is my
father?" My brow was clouded as the thought entered my mind, when Lady
de Clare requested that I would inform her who it was to whom she and
her daughter were under such eternal obligations. I had then to relate
my own eventful history, most of which was as new to Cecilia (as she now
must be called) as it was to her mother. I had just terminated the
escape from the castle, when Mr Masterton's carriage drove up to the
door. As soon as he had bowed to Lady de Clare, he said to me, "Japhet,
here is a letter directed to you, to my care, from Ireland which I have
brought for you."
"It is from Kathleen McShane, sir," replied I, and requesting leave, I
broke the seal. It contained another. I read Kathleen's, and then
hastily opened the other. It was from Nattee, or Lady H. de Clare, and
ran as follows--
"Japhet Newland,--Fleta is the daughter of Sir William
de Clare. Dearly has my husband paid for his act of folly and
wickedness, and to which you must know I never was a party.
"Yours,
"Nattee."
The letter from Kathleen added more strange information. Lady de Clare,
after the funeral of her husband had sent for the steward, made every
necessary arrangement, discharged the servants, and then had herself
disappeared, no one knew whither; but it was reported that somebody very
much resembling her had been seen travelling south in company with a
gang of gipsies. I handed both letters over to Lady de Clare and Mr
Masterton.
"Poor Lady de Clare!" observed the mother.
"Nattee will never leave her tribe," observed Cecilia quietly.
"You are right, my dear," replied I. "She will be happier with her
tribe where she commands as a queen, than ever she was at the castle."
Mr Masterton then entered into a detail with Lady de Clare as to what
steps ought immediately to be taken, as the heirs-at-law would otherwise
give some trouble; and having obtained her acquiescence, it was time to
withdraw. "Mr Newland, I trust you will consider us as your warmest
friends. I am so much in your debt, that I never can repay you; but I
am also in your debt in a pecuniary way--that, at least, you must permit
me to refund."
"When I require it, Lady de Clare, I will accept it. Do not, pray, vex
me by the proposition. I have not much happiness as it is, although I
am rejoiced at yours and that of your daughter."
"Come, Lady de Clare, I must not allow you to tease my protege, you do
not know how sensitive he is. We will now take our leave."
"You will come soon," said Cecilia, looking anxiously at me.
"You have your mother, Cecilia," replied I; "what can you wish for more?
I am a--nobody--without a parent."
Cecilia burst into tears: I embraced her, and Mr Masterton and I left
the room.