CHAPTER VI.

On entering an inn at Monmouth, the Captain was surprised at beholding

Mr. Talton, who advanced to meet him with a hasty exclamation,

expressive of the joy he felt at the rencounter. Far different were the

sensations of Sir Henry; he could not regard Mr. Talton with composure;

but, pressing the Captain's hand, bade him remember his promise, and

immediately retired to his chamber.

Mr. Talton then inquired the particulars of Sir Henry's restoration, as

he had heard an account of his visit to the parsonage, which was

afterwards confirmed by the confession of old Owen, of his real

existence: and, to the astonishment of the Captain, he learned it was

Lady Corbet who had passed them near Painswick, and who, having been

informed by Lady Dursley of her son's arrival, was then going to London,

to entreat his return to Caermarthen. This instantly accounted to the

Captain for Sir Henry's fainting, and his willingness to revisit Wales;

he would not, however, comply with Mr. Talton's proposal to apprize Lady

Corbet of their destination, that she might see her son: Sir Henry's

will, in that respect, he said, should be uncontrolled; he had given his

promise, and it should be sacred.

Mr. Talton at last ceased from further importunity; and finding the

Captain proposed to stay at Monmouth only that night, expressed his

regret at their early separation; accusing the Captain with want of

friendship, in not deferring his journey at least for one day.

"Freely, Talton," said the Captain, "would I defer my journey a week, if

it depended on myself; but, as I must think Sir Henry's life really in

danger, notwithstanding the Physician's affirmation; let that plead my

excuse.--Neither, I think, could you experience pleasure in our society;

as Sir Henry's dislike--or, term it what you will--must place a

restraint on every moment. I do not expect to leave England for some

time; and if I recover my Ellenor, most probably shall quit the

seafaring life; therefore, depend on it, I will shortly pay you a visit,

when you shall find me neither a niggard of my time, nor forgetful of

the sentiments I once avowed."

With this assurance Mr. Talton was obliged to retire for the night; but

in the morning renewed his solicitations: in which not being able to

prevail, he declared he would postpone his journey to London, and return

with the Captain to the interior of Wales.

Sir Henry turned pale at this declaration, which Mr. Talton observing,

said--"I perceive with sorrow, Sir Henry, the early prepossession you

entertained against me is not eradicated; perhaps from mistaking the

cause of your conduct, I have acted toward you with a severity foreign

to my nature, but which I thought highly authorised by reason! Your

reserve to me, on the renewal of my acquaintance with your mother, I

imputed, I acknowledge, to interested motives. That I love Lady Corbet,

is no secret to you; but that I wished to alienate her fortune--nothing

was ever farther from my thoughts! On the contrary, if your amiable

mother bless me with her hand, it is my avowed, my earnest wish, that

the estates appertaining to the Corbet family, should be resigned to

you. My fortune is more than adequate to my wants or desires: and Heaven

forbid that I should be instrumental in withholding from you those

possessions, of which the injustice of your father would deprive you."

Sir Henry sighed, and Mr. Talton, after a moments pause,

proceeded.--"Your mother has consented to resign the name of Corbet,

when her son can be prevailed on to return: but whilst he is a wanderer,

she cannot experience happiness. Thus, Sir Henry, you see the claims

which are made upon you. Your mother's happiness, consequently mine--and

I must think your own--depend on your compliance. I, therefore, again

entreat your return to the seat of your ancestors; let these seeming

mysteries be cleared up, and, by giving me a legal title to the name of

father, let me compensate for him you have lost!"

Sir Henry appeared agitated, and, taking the hand of Mr. Talton, "I

believe, Mr. Talton, I have mistaken your character. Your affection for

my mother I am no stranger to; and sincerely wish it depended but on me

to ensure your happiness: but, alas! the means would prove the bane! I

will, however, see--will speak to my mother: more I dare not promise;

and for that--I may, perhaps, answer with my life!"

Mr. Talton and the Captain regarded Sir Henry with a momentary

astonishment--"Your life!" repeated the former--But Sir Henry bowed, and

taking Frederick by the arm, left the room.

"May answer with his life!" reiterated Mr. Talton. "What, Howard, can he

mean?"

The Captain could not resolve the question, and, after a few

unsatisfactory surmises, they followed Sir Henry and Frederick, who were

already on horseback. Sir Henry's reply, however, had given rise to such

a confusion of ideas in the mind of Mr. Talton, he could by no means

reconcile them; he therefore asked an explanation: but Sir Henry's

answers tended only to increase the mystery.

In the afternoon, willing to avoid the revival of the subject, he

lingered behind with Frederick; whilst the Captain and Mr. Talton, being

engaged in a discourse highly interesting to the former, as it concerned

his Ellenor, were not aware of the separation till they had gained the

summit of a hill, where, on turning round, the Captain perceived them

and their attendants nearly two miles behind. He immediately proposed to

wait for them, and, retiring beneath the shade of an oak, began to

descant on the prospect before them, which presented one of the richest

scenes of autumn.

The non-appearance of Sir Henry and Frederick, however, soon recalled

their attention from the beauties of nature; and the Captain, declaring

his apprehension that some accident had happened, with every mark of

impatient concern, descended the hill, followed by Mr. Talton and his

servant. Their party, however, was not to be perceived. They had,

indeed, taken a road, which led in a different direction from the bottom

of the hill, and which the Captain now first observed. Anxious to

overtake them, he hastened the pace of his horse, but no appearance of

them could be discovered; and the road branching off into a variety of

others, added to his perplexity. In this dilemma, he followed the advice

of Mr. Talton, and entered that which, from its direction, they supposed

would lead to Brecon: but it soon became so intricate, that they at

last agreed to relinquish the attempt, and endeavour to trace their way

back.

This, however, they found as difficult to accomplish, nor was it till

night had spread her glooms over the surrounding scenes, that they

entered a road, which, from the plainness of its tracks, they imagined

to be the one they had formerly quitted. Mr. Talton could not refrain

from a hasty exclamation against the young men, for their carelessness:

which was answered by expressions of concern on their account by the

Captain.

Slowly they ascended the hill; when, to the consternation of Mr. Talton,

he discovered they had entirely mistaken their road: they had, however,

no alternative, but to proceed, trusting to Providence for guidance; and

continued their way, till they arrived at a place where the road again

taking different directions, involved them in their former perplexity.

"What is now to be done?" asked Mr. Talton. "By Heavens, I think some

daemon has placed a spell in our path, to mislead and confound us! Fools

that we were, to travel without a guide!"

"The road was sufficiently plain," answered the Captain, "if we had not

negligently missed it. But hark! I think I hear the trampling of

horses. If it be Sir Henry and my nephew, I shall think little of

passing the night under the canopy of Heaven: and in the morning we may

easily rectify our mistake."

He listened attentively; but, two horsemen only approached: he, however,

hailed them, and on being answered, briefly recounted the manner in

which he had been separated from his nephew, his subsequent search, and

the unpleasant situation he was then in, begging to know if they had

accidentally seen the objects of his anxiety, or would direct him to

some hamlet or town, where he and his friend might procure

accommodations for the night?

"I am sorry, Sir," said the stranger, who had first answered the

Captain's salutation, "it is not in my power to give you any

intelligence respecting your friends. In regard to a night's lodging, it

is at least three miles to the next village, whence I now come, and the

road is very indifferent; I reside about half a mile from this place,

and if you will accompany me home, although I cannot promise you

splendid entertainment, I can insure you a hearty welcome."

Pleased with the frankness of the offer, the Captain and Mr. Talton

accepted it, and, turning their horses, followed the benevolent

stranger. The uncertainty, however, of Frederick's and Sir Henry's

safety, destroyed the momentary satisfaction of the Captain, nor could

he help expressing his fears to the stranger.

"Hope for the best, Sir," he replied: "my humble dwelling, though

screened on this side from observation, commands an extensive view over

the lower part of the country; where, from your account, I am induced to

think your friends have strayed: and whence the light from our window

will most probably serve them as a guide."

"May it prove a favourable beacon!" said the Captain. "Yonder is the

place of our destination," continued the stranger, extending his hand

toward a distant light.

"Aye--and there, Sir," said his attendant, "is Argus barking most

furiously. What, in the name of wonder, can ail the beast? Surely the

house is not beset by thieves."

The stranger stopped his horse for a moment, and listened--the barking

continued without intermission, and a distant shout likewise assailed

their ears.

"Something, I am afraid, has indeed happened," he cried in a voice of

concern. "If you please, gentlemen, we will hasten forward."

The shouts increased, mixed with the deep-mouthed tones of Argus: but

not as they had apprehended, in a direction from the house. They,

however, still hastened forward.--"It may be our fugitives," said the

Captain.--"Ah! I hear Frederick's voice!" He now exerted his own, and in

a few minutes, was joined by the wanderers.

"Thank heaven, my dear uncle, we have found you!" said Frederick

exultingly--"a circumstance, from the various accidents we have met

with, beyond my hopes. But for this noble dog, we should most probably

yet have been in a morass, we incautiously entered."

The Captain could scarcely express his concern at the difficulties they

had experienced, ere they arrived at the gateway, leading to the

ancient though not extensive dwelling of the hospitable stranger. An

aged man-servant attended the summons of his master: Sir Henry started

on beholding him, and, anxiously grasping the Captain's arm, cried--"O

gracious Heaven!--haste, haste, Captain!" and hurrying him past their

kind invitor, entered the house.--The Captain had not time to ask the

meaning of his behaviour, before Sir Henry, with a trembling hand, threw

open the door of a parlour.

A cheerful fire blazed on the hearth, round which were seated a

gentleman, a lady, and two lovely girls.

"Is that my Edward?" the lady asked; and, raising her head, discovered

to the Captain, the features of his Ellenor!

"My Ellenor!" he exclaimed, rushing to her, "Yes, it is your Edward! my

loved--my long-lost Ellenor!"

A scream of surprise and delight escaped her as he caught her in his

arms, and faintly articulating his name, she sunk inanimate on his

bosom.

Mrs. Blond, who had been engaged in an adjoining room, alarmed by the

scream, flew to the assistance of her friend, at the moment Mr. Talton,

Frederick, and young Howard, entered the room: but the appearance of

the former, in an instant obliterated every other idea, and, wildly

clasping her hands, she stood the image of horror!

"My mother!--Do I once more behold you?" said Sir Henry, hastening to

meet her--but she heeded him not, her eye was fixed on Talton: nor was

it till the repeated exclamation of--"Sir Henry! my benefactor!" roused

her from her stupor. Franticly she threw her arms round Sir Henry; but

Talton again attracting her eye, she as hastily pushed him from her,

crying--"Fly--fly, my Harry; destruction awaits thee! It is Talton

himself. Fly to Howard, he only can protect thee! Oh! Ellenor--Ellenor,

ruin awaits us all."

The surprise which had been depicted on the countenance of Mr. Talton,

now yielded to embarrassment, as his name was faintly echoed on every

side: Sir Henry vainly attempted to persuade them Talton was not an

enemy: Mrs. Blond still urged him to fly, till overpowered by the

agitation of her mind, she sunk in a state of insensibility on the

floor.

All was incoherence and confusion: the friendly Booyers had been

assisting the Captain and young Howard, to restore Ellenor to life; he

now ran distractedly from her to Mrs. Blond, in vain calling for help:

the entrance of the servants but added to the distress which prevailed.

At last the Captain, with joy perceived the current of life re-animate

the features of his Ellenor; who, in a few minutes, became conscious of

her situation. With a smile of inexpressible delight, she took the hand

of her son, and placing it in that of the Captain, encircled them in her

arms. The action spoke more than words; nature confessed it: Edward

intuitively bent his knee, and as the Captain raised, and pressed him to

his heart, he felt that moment more than recompensed for all he had

suffered.

A faint groan from Mrs. Blond now reached the ear of Ellenor, and,

leaving her Edward, she flew to the side of this companion in her

afflictions: but her attentions were equally unavailing to recall her

senses, and she was therefore conveyed to her chamber, followed by her

daughter and Ellen. Ellenor would likewise have attended, but was

prevented by Sir Henry, who, affectionately taking her hand, was

beginning to congratulate her on her restoration to the Captain, when

the door was again thrown open, and the old servant-man rushed into the

room.

"It is--it is Sir Henry!" he exclaimed, throwing himself at his feet.

"Little did I think, when I opened the gate, it was to admit the son of

my beloved master. Yet my old eyes could not distinguish you: but since

the news arrived that you were drowned, they have been more dim than

they were wont to be! Ah! many a tear has been shed for your loss, my

master; and as often have I wished, I could have recalled your life, by

resigning my own."

"I thank you, my good old friend," said Sir Henry, raising him;

"sincerely thank you for your love: and may one day have it in my power

to acknowledge it more effectually, than by words; though, for myself,

Thomas, the tomb of my father is the only inheritance I covet!"

His head drooped on his bosom, whilst the starting tear too plainly

evinced the painful recollection of the moment. With looks of the

tenderest pity, Ellenor folded him in her arms.

"Forgive me," continued Sir Henry, returning her embrace. "At such a

moment as this, I ought not to let a single idea of myself intrude, to

cast a gloom on your happiness. For your sake--for the sake of my

beloved Eliza, and her mother, I will break through those ties, which

have hitherto restrained me, and act according to the dictates of

justice!"

"The means are in our power!" cried old Thomas, exultingly. "The night

before my Lady returned from London, with the account of your death, I

entered the closet of my deceased master; the event answered our

expectation: and now let the guilty beware!"

Sir Henry sighed; but in a moment assuming a more cheerful aspect,

reminded Thomas, they were weary travellers, who, for some hours had not

received refreshment.

Thomas instantly left the room; and Sir Henry congratulated the Captain

and his Ellenor on the late happy discovery. Young Howard and Lieutenant

Booyers likewise claimed his attention; he introduced them to Frederick

and Mr. Talton, who, already prepossessed in their favour, eagerly

accepted, and returned their proffered friendship. The name of Talton

caused a momentary alarm in the bosom of Ellenor: involuntarily she

threw herself into the arms of the Captain, for protection; but, on his

assuring her of Talton's friendship, apologized for her mistrust, and

extending her hand, welcomed him with all the cordiality she had

formerly shown.

"I believe, Mrs. Crawton," said Mr. Talton, "my appearance here is as

surprising to you, as the events of this evening have been to me. Some

strange mistake exists; but as an explanation is beyond my power, I can

only assert my innocence of intentional wrong toward you, or your

friends!"

"No more apologies, Talton," said the Captain; "let the past be

forgotten; for your conduct in future, I will be answerable; and, as the

first proof of your friendship, shall demand your attendance again on my

Ellenor, as a father.--Your Howard," he continued to Ellenor, "is, thank

Heaven, at last at liberty, and here claims your promise, of again

uniting your fate to his for ever!"

A tear of grateful delight swelled in the eye of Ellenor, as she gave

him her hand, and assured him her promise was not forgotten.

The entrance of Ellen and Eliza, with the account that Mrs. Blond was

fallen into a gentle sleep, added to their satisfaction: "And as I was

anxious," said Ellen with a smile, "to see my adopted brother, I

persuaded Eliza to leave her mother to the sweets of repose, and return

with me to our friends."

A blush overspread the beautiful face of her companion, as Sir Henry

said--"And did Eliza require persuasion, to return to the presence of

her Henry? A welcome from her was the first wish of my heart, and is she

then the last to give it?"

"Do more justice to the sentiments of Eliza," said young

Howard.--"Deeply has she mourned the loss of Corbet; and her heart, I am

certain, if not her tongue, sincerely welcomes, and rejoices at his

return."

Sir Henry pressed the hand of the blushing girl to his lips, and, with a

heart more replete with happiness than he had long experienced, attended

the summons to the supper-table. The restraint which the presence of Mr.

Talton at first created, gradually wore off; as, willing to eradicate

the idea he was certain they entertained of him, he exerted those powers

of pleasing, which he possessed in an eminent degree; and on their

retiring for the night, each secretly wished he might prove himself as

amiable as he had that evening appeared to be.

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