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: Lady Corbet, 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--or how 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 measures I 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 entered by 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 to visit 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, could have 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 her arms 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 to injure 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's entreaties, 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 had passed: 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
this time, 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 retreat where 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 carriage was 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 his decease, 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 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 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 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 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 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 God! 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 principal 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 assumed 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 lustre 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
restitution 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 passion
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 sex.
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 spacious 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!"
"Name not injuries, my mother;" sobbed Louise; "all is rewarded by this
moment of affection! My love, my duty shall prove me worthy of it."
"I shall not experience them," said Lady Corbet, wildly. "The icy finger
of death has marked the hour of my existence!"
"Not so--my mother," replied Louise, attempting to speak with
cheerfulness. "My hand shall minister to thy wants; my arm support thee;
affection will teach me the means of relieving thy anguish; and in the
bosom of her Louise, my mother shall yet find peace and happiness!"
"Peace and happiness!" repeated Lady Corbet, franticly. "Oh, torture me
not, by placing to my view blessings I must never enjoy! In thy bosom,
peace and happiness may dwell, but not for me! Even now the grave is
open to receive me, and all beyond is horror! Thee, I have
injured--Corbet and his son--Ellenor too,--Blond and Eliza--shall point
the finger of condemnation at me, and say--'Not one good action marked
her life!'--Oh, let me live--Off with this fractured limb--Tear me to
atoms: let me but live to atone for my crimes!--The account is too dark
to answer before the Judge I have offended!"
Louise shrunk aghast from her frantic mother, who, with convulsive
eagerness, attempted to tear the bandages from her arm.
Sir Henry endeavoured to restrain her.--"This must not be, my mother,
you hasten the dissolution you so much dread."
"Hence, audacious boy!" she angrily exclaimed. "Darest thou lay the hand
of violence on thy parent! Now, indeed, thou meritest the hatred I have
shown thee! Yet stay--stay: let me not add another sin to the number of
my account! I believe thou lovest me, thou hast oft evinced it. Yet, not
to thee can I fly for consolation; the injuries I have done thee, are
too numerous, and alone sufficient to overwhelm me with perdition!"
Mr. Talton drew her fevered hand from Sir Henry's, and gently pressing
it, said, "Raise your heart in prayer, Lady Corbet, and seek for
consolation in the mercy of Heaven!"
"Can I form a prayer--or ask a blessing," said Lady Corbet, "when every
action of my life is marked with vice? No, no--there is no mercy for
me--I never afforded it!"
"Lay your crimes at the feet of your Saviour," replied Mr. Talton,
solemnly: "remember, he died for the sinner: and the first tear shed, of
true repentance, restores you to the bosom of your God!"
The frenzied eye of Lady Corbet rested with piercing keenness on that of
Talton. "Repentance!" she ejaculated. "Oh, if that will avail me, deeply
indeed will I repent. Yet save me--save me: let me not die! I will be
patient--calm. But send for the surgeon; I no longer dread a mutilated
frame: and it may not yet be too late to preserve existence!"
Sir Henry hastily rose--"I will seek the surgeon this instant----"
"Not you, Harry!" cried Lady Corbet, extending her hand to detain him.
"Quit not my sight.--Little as I have loved you through life, I wish not
at this moment to be deserted. Yet, send for the surgeon--and be quick;
let me but live, and I will atone for all!"
Harland perceiving Sir Henry's distress sent a servant, who soon
returned with the surgeon. On being informed of Lady Corbet's
determination, he shook his head, saying--"It is now, I am afraid, too
late. Had she submitted to the operation at first--all had been well."
Anxiously Sir Henry watched the intelligence of his eye, as he examined
her arm, and with a sigh received the account. It was, indeed, not only
too late to amputate the limb; but her state was such, that the
succeeding day would be the utmost limit of her existence!
A groan burst from the bosom of the wretched patient, who, in agonized
frenzy, alternately entreated the surgeon to save her, and implored the
mercy of Heaven. Medicine was administered to compose her, which, in
some degree, had the effect; and the remainder of the day and following
night passed in broken slumber and prayer.
The ensuing morning, on awaking, she perceived Sir Henry and Louise
kneeling by her bed; and, regarding them some moments, with a tremulous
voice said--"And dost thou, Harry, kneel to Heaven, to intercede for thy
guilty parent?--Oh God! accept his prayers, though mine be rejected! and
for each ill I have--and would have done him, shower a blessing on his
head! But I must be quick. Reason totters, and life beats uncertain at
my heart. Talton--Harland--come hither. Pursue not Mallet. The wealth he
has taken--let him retain! Let Louise's fortune be restored, and the
rest of my property equally divided between her and her brother--except
my picture; which, Talton, I would wish you to have; and, when you view
the resemblance, let pity draw a veil over my vices, and waft a prayer
to Heaven--they may there be forgiven!--Pray for me, my gentle
Louise!--Harry, forgive thy mother. Leave me not whilst a symptom of
life remains; bear with my wanderings, and whilst I have sense to give
it--receive a last blessing!"
--Life, however, was not so near its close, though it fluctuated in its
channels. Repeated faintings prepared them for the last awful moment.
Sir Henry and Louise, as Lady Corbet had requested, never left her; and
evening was fast closing as she faintly grasped the hand of Sir
Henry--drew him nearer to her, and, sighing a broken prayer--expired on
the bosom of Louise!--