The honest innkeeper wiped a tear from his cheek as he concluded, and a
pause of some moments ensued, when the Captain, addressing Mr. Talton,
said--"What a character, Talton, is that of Sir Horace! My own
misfortunes sink in the comparison with these unhappy people's: and I
think you will allow, even Sir Henry is entitled to a portion of your
pity."
"He deserves it, indeed, Sir," said Jarvis. "Soon after I settled in
this inn, he stopped here on his way to my ladies; and I declare I
scarcely knew him, he looked so pale and unhappy. When I told him Miss
Mary was married, he started from his seat in an agony, and, wringing my
hand, said, 'Yes, Jarvis, and I am married! I am married,' he repeated,
'and to one--.' He struck his forehead--walked about in great agitation,
and at last, throwing himself into a chair, covered his face, and sighed
to that degree, my heart ached to hear him. Poor gentleman! I never saw
him after that day. Had his father possessed a heart like my old
master's, they might all have been happy: but many a dark deed has Sir
Horace to answer for, beside those I have related: there were his wife
and daughter disappeared in a very strange manner."
At this moment Frederick entered. Jarvis, being summoned to another part
of the house, made his humble bow, and left the room; and the Captain,
addressing his nephew, asked if he had accompanied the Lieutenant and
Miss Booyers to their habitation?
"I did, my dear Sir," answered Frederick; "and have beheld a scene
equally distressing, I think, as the one you witnessed in the
church-yard. I supported the lovely Ellen to her residence, and would
then have taken my leave, but the Lieutenant, who I afterwards found
was her uncle, entreated me to walk into the house. 'It is the abode of
sorrow,' he added, 'but not of ingratitude; and never will Lieutenant
Booyers turn the compassionate stranger from his gate.'
"I was easily prevailed on to enter, when the Lieutenant, opening the
door of an inner room, presented to my view a lady and a youth in deep
mourning. They did not perceive our entrance. The silent tear was
trickling down the face of the youth; but his mother, for such she
proved, wrung her hands, and, in a voice broken by sobs, exclaimed--'Oh,
my Henry, to what distress has thy death reduced us!' She fell on the
neck of her son, when the lovely Ellen hastening to her, with accents of
the mildest pity, entreated she would be composed.
"'I could, Ellen,' answered the Lady, 'were I the only sufferer; but,
alas! a prison awaits us; and my child--my Edward, what must then become
of you?'
"'Fear not for me, my dear mother,' answered her son, with rising
spirit. 'I will follow the steps of my brave father, and if I fall, I
cannot die more nobly than in the cause of my country!' His voice, his
manners, were all St. Ledger's.--By Heavens, I could have loved him as a
brother!
"His mother pressed him to her bosom, but tears choked her utterance.
The Lieutenant regarded her with a look of commiseration, which seemed,
for the moment, to banish all thoughts of his own affliction. 'Yield not
thus to despondency,' he cried, 'my worthy friend; the God whose power
can calm the turbulence of the storm, and raise the sinking mariner,
will never desert thee or thy offspring.'
"She answered but with her tears, when a beautiful girl, whose
countenance, like the rest, bore marks of the deepest grief, entered,
and in a voice, I thought, of alarm, entreated her assistance in an
adjoining room.
"She instantly complied, and retired, followed by her son and the lovely
Ellen.
"'Child of misfortune,' sighed the Lieutenant, 'may you one day
experience happiness, proportionate to the sorrow you now endure.'
"Then, addressing me, he thanked me, in elegant terms, for the
assistance I had afforded his niece: her name revived the anguish of his
own breast, and, perceiving me interested by what I had beheld, he gave
me the outlines of his life, a life marked, indeed, by misfortune! I
thanked him for the confidence he had reposed in me, and, apologizing
for the freedom of the offer, entreated to know if it were in my power,
or that of my uncle, to render any assistance to the lady I had seen.
"The Lieutenant shook his head.--It was not, he said.--'Pecuniary
distresses,' he continued, 'are but the secondary causes of her
affliction. Early in life she lost a beloved husband, and for many years
experienced the keenest unhappiness: at last Heaven sent a friend, who
promised to redress the injuries she had suffered; but it was not to be:
death has bereaved her of her protector; and for him it is she grieves,
independently of the misery which awaits her.'
"Delicacy forbade my urging any farther, and, unwilling to intrude, I
took a reluctant leave.--But, surely, my dear uncle, something may be
done; theirs is not a common distress: they need a friend, and, had I
the wealth of the universe--"
Frederick was interrupted by his uncle's servant, who rushed into the
room with looks of the wildest delight, exclaiming--"She is found--she
is found, your Honour! My Lady is now in the village!"
The Captain's countenance indicated displeasure. "Am I never to be free
from the persecution of this woman?" he cried. "Order my horses; I will
be gone immediately!"
"What, Sir!" said James, surprised and dejected: "not see my Lady, now
you have found her?"
"Found her--found whom?" asked the Captain hastily.
"My honoured Lady, Sir; Madam Crawton, who lived at Brighthelmstone."
"My Ellenor here!" exclaimed the Captain, starting from his seat, every
feature instantly illumined with joy.--"O God of Heaven! tell me where
she is, this instant!"
"At the house, your Honour, where Mr. Frederick went with the gentleman
and lady: I saw Madam Crawton as she came out of the parlour. I could
not at the moment be certain it was her; but, willing to satisfy myself,
I returned as soon as my young master reached the inn, and saw Mrs.
Susan putting some parcels into a carriage. I remembered Mrs. Susan
perfectly well; and at that moment my Lady came to the door. I was then
convinced, and hastened back to acquaint your Honour."
The Captain could scarcely retain patience till James concluded; when,
quick as lightning, he darted out of the room, followed by his nephew
and Mr. Talton, and in a few minutes reached the residence of Lieutenant
Booyers.
With a beating heart he raised the knocker; but all remained silent: no
ready footstep answered to the summons. Again he knocked--when a peasant
slowly advanced from the back of the garden, and, with a surly voice,
demanded their business?
"Is Mrs. Crawton, or Lieutenant Booyers, at home?" asked the Captain.
"They are not," answered the man. "They have left the village."
"Left the village!" faltered the Captain.
"Yes," replied the man. "So, for once you have missed your aim."
"Missed indeed!" he cried. "But say--where are they gone?--Tell me, I
conjure you."
"I will perish first," answered the man. "I know your business too
well!"
"It is impossible," said the Captain, "you should know my business."
"Is not your name Talton!" interrupted the man.
"My name is," answered Mr. Talton. "But I cannot conceive what concern
that has with the lady in question."
"A great deal," said the man. "So, once more I tell you, you have
missed your aim. My lady will not go to prison this time!"
"God forbid she should," exclaimed the Captain. "Yet tell me, I entreat
you--."
But the peasant disregarded his entreaties, and, again repeating his
observation, pursued his way to his own home. The disappointment was too
severe for the Captain to support with his wonted firmness: he sunk on
the shoulder of his nephew, whose astonishment could only be equalled by
his concern, at finding the house so suddenly deserted: he begged his
uncle (who would have followed the peasant) to return to the inn,
declaring he would himself go after him, and, either by money or
threats, extort from him what he knew concerning Mrs. Crawton. The
Captain complied, and, accompanied by Mr. Talton, retraced his steps to
the inn, where he ordered the horses to be immediately saddled.
Jarvis (who had been informed by James, of what he knew concerning the
Captain and the unfortunate Ellenor) observing the agitation of his
guest, begged to know if any thing disagreeable had happened? Mr. Talton
satisfied his curiosity, so far as saying, the Lieutenant and his
friends, with whom they had particular business, had left the village,
and at the same time asked if he knew any thing respecting Mrs.
Crawton?
"There were a Mrs. Crawton and another lady, your Honour," answered
Jarvis, "came here just before Miss Hannah died; but I cannot say I ever
saw either of them. The young folks, (for one has a son, and the other a
daughter) I have frequently seen. As for the Lieutenant leaving the
village, the man must be mistaken, though he may be accompanying the
ladies to their own habitation: however, if it be that which concerns
your Honours, I will be bound to gain you intelligence to what part of
the country they are gone, in the space of an hour."
The Captain thankfully accepted the offer, and impatiently waited the
return of Frederick, who, with a dejected countenance, soon entered the
room.
"I have not been able to succeed, my dear Sir," he cried; "the man is
sworn to secrecy; and all I have been able to learn from him, is--they
have fled, to avoid Mr. Talton and a jail."
"Avoid me!" exclaimed Mr. Talton, with surprise. "There is some mystery
in this, which I cannot develope. From the time I first left England,
till this evening, I have never heard of Mrs. Crawton; and to Lieutenant
Booyers I am a perfect stranger."
"My Ellenor flying, and from fear of a prison!" cried the Captain. "To
what distress may she not be reduced! Would that Jarvis was returned!
the torments I endure are insupportable!"
Jarvis soon after re-entered--"I have gained but little information,
your Honour," he began, "and that I believe not strictly true. The
Lieutenant has certainly left the village. It was the appearance of you,
Sir, (to Mr. Talton) it seems, which has driven them so abruptly from
their home. They have taken the road to Chepstow; but whether they
propose staying there, is not known."
"That information is sufficient," said the Captain. "I will instantly
follow them. Let me but recover Ellenor and my son--it is all I ask of
Heaven!"
Jarvis, who was liberally rewarded for his trouble, procured them a
guide, and they immediately directed their course toward Chepstow. But
the Captain was doomed to experience disappointment; no such carriage or
persons as he described had been seen; and he could only suppose Jarvis
had been misinformed, or that they had pursued their way farther into
the country. Indulging this last idea, he determined to continue the
pursuit; but every effort proved ineffectual to discover the lost
Ellenor; and, to add to his distress, he received an express to return
on board, the fleet being ready to sail.
Reluctantly he obeyed, and, on reaching Weymouth, was met by Mrs.
Howard, who with increasing malignancy endeavoured to revenge herself
for the temporary respite he had enjoyed. Mr. Talton accompanied the
Captain on board, where, promising to use every endeavour during his
absence from England to discover Ellenor, he bade him adieu, and,
returning on shore, proceeded to Bath, to renew his addresses to Lady
Corbet.
No particular occurrence marked the voyage: the name of St. Ledger was
still mentioned with regret by the crew, and dwelt on with a painful
delight by Frederick and his uncle; who passed his hours in painful
retrospects, and conjectures for the present state of his Ellenor,
enlivened only by the praises the friendly Frederick bestowed on the
person and interesting manners of his son, so greatly resembling those
of the deceased Sir Henry.