The next day, being the first of September, we were all very busy, and
we continued to shoot every day for a week, when I thought it time to
return to Portsmouth. I mentioned my intentions to Lord de Versely, and
was pressed to stay until the following Saturday, it being then Tuesday.
On Wednesday Mr Warden made his appearance, attended by his clerk, who
carried a bag of papers. He remained half an hour and then went home;
but, before he went, he asked me to dine with him on the following day,
and I consented.
After we returned from shooting the next day, I changed my clothes, and,
leaving word with the butler that I dined out, I took my way across the
fields. I was walking very quietly on the grass, by the side of a high
hedge, when I perceived two other men on the opposite side; one I
recognised as Colonel Delmar; the other I could not at first make out;
but, as I approached them, I perceived that the colonel was talking with
the clerk of Mr Warden. I passed them without notice, for they were
very earnestly engaged in conversation. What they said, I did not know;
but I thought it singular that so proud a person as Colonel Delmar
should be so engaged with an inferior; a little reflection, however made
me consider that there was nothing very surprising in Colonel Delmar's
entering into conversation with a man in the country. They might be
talking about the game, or a hundred other things.
I had a very friendly dinner with Mr Warden, who, after dinner, gave me
a hint that I should not be the worse for the papers signed the day
before. He did not however, say anything positive, as it would have
been a breach of trust. When I spoke of my soon being afloat again, he
said that he would not fail to watch over my interests at the Hall
during my absence, and he requested that I would write to him, and
consider him as my sincere friend. "Of course, my dear Captain Keene, I
do not expect that you will at present give me your entire confidence;
but I trust you will when you know me, and at all events that you will
not fail to do so when my advice may be of use to you. I have a debt of
obligation to pay, and I shall be most happy to do so, if it is in my
power!" I thanked Mr Warden for his kind offers, and promised to avail
myself of them, and we parted great friends.
The next day, Friday, we had a large addition to our shooting party. I
had not been out more than an hour, when, as I was standing near Lord de
Versely, who was re-loading his gun, a report, close to us, was heard,
and I fell down close to his feet, apparently dead. A keeper, who was
with us, ran to see who had discharged the gun, and found that it was
Colonel Delmar, who now ran up to us, stating, in hurried terms, to Lord
de Versely, that his gun had gone off accidentally as he was putting on
a copper cap, and bitterly lamenting the circumstance. Lord de Versely
was at the time kneeling down by my side (as I was afterwards informed),
showing the greatest anxiety and grief. My hat had been taken off; it
was full of blood and the back of my head was much torn with the shot.
I remained insensible, although breathing heavily; a gate was taken off
its hinges, and I was laid upon it, and carried to the Hall.
Before the surgeon had arrived, I had recovered my senses. On
examination, I had had a very narrow escape; the better part of the
charge of shot had entered the back part of my head, but fortunately not
any had penetrated through the skull. After a tedious hour, employed in
extracting this load, my head was bound up, and I was made comfortable
in my bed. I must say that Lord de Versely and Colonel Delmar vied with
each other in their attentions to me; the latter constantly accusing
himself as the author of the mischief, and watching by my bed the major
part of the day.
This accident delayed my departure, and it was not until three weeks
afterwards, that I was sufficiently recovered to leave my room. In the
meantime, Lord de Versely, assured that I was out of danger, went back
to London. The colonel, however, remained. His kindness and attention
had given me great pleasure, and we had become very intimate. He had
offered to go with me to Portsmouth, and I had expressed the pleasure I
should have in his company. The Honourable Miss Delmar had shown the
greatest feeling and anxiety for me during my illness; so had Mr
Warden, who often called to see me; in fact, I found myself so
surrounded by well-wishers and friends, that I hardly regretted my
accident.
At the end of the fifth week, I was sufficiently recovered to be able to
return to Portsmouth, where I was now very anxious to arrive, as the
Circe had been launched and had already received her lower masts. I
took my leave of Miss Delmar, who requested my early return to Madeline
Hall, and, accompanied by Colonel Delmar, was once more established at
Billett's Hotel.
Bob Cross was the first who made his appearance; for I had written to
him to acquaint him with my intended return. He had heard of my narrow
escape, as it had been put into the newspaper; his information was
trifling, but to the purpose. All was right as to the frigate: she sat
on the water like a duck; the rigging was far advanced, and the officers
seemed of the right sort. All was right, also, as to his matrimonial
affairs; his wife was every thing he wished; the old gentleman was as
sweet as molasses, and he had laid the keel of a young Cross. We then
entered upon business, and I gave him some directions as to the rigging,
and he left me.
The next morning, the first lieutenant called to pay his respects, and
his appearance and conversation proved him to be what he had been
recommended as, a good seaman and a brave man. I went with him to the
dockyard to look at the frigate in the basin, and afterwards on board
the hulk to see the other officers and the men, who had been entered. I
had every reason to be satisfied, and I then returned to the hotel, to
dine with Colonel Delmar. This officer appeared to have taken a strong
interest in me, and ever since the accident of his gun going off, which
had so nearly been fatal to me, was unbounded in his professions of
regard. I must say, that a more gentleman-like or more amusing
companion I never met with. A great intimacy was established between
us; he was constantly making me presents of value, which I would fain
have prevented his doing; occasionally, when we were alone, he would
hint something about my family and parentage; but this was a subject
upon which I was invariably silent, and I immediately changed the
conversation; once only I replied, that my father and mother were both
dead.
On my arrival at Portsmouth, I found several letters waiting for me, and
among them two or three from my mother, who had seen the report in the
newspaper of the escape that I had had, and, of course, was excessively
anxious to hear from my own hand how I was. Had I thought that it would
have come to her knowledge, I certainly should have written to my
grandmother from Madeline Hall; but I imagined that she knew nothing
about it, until my return to Portsmouth, when her anxious letters proved
the contrary; for in her anxiety she had quite forgotten her promise
that all communication should be through my grandmother.
As soon as I had read the letters I locked them up in my desk, and
hastened to reply to them, assuring my mother of my perfect restoration
to health, and cautioned her not to break through the agreement we had
made for the future, pointing out to her that had these letters been
forwarded to Madeline Hall, her handwriting would have been recognised.
I said, in conclusion, "I must say, my dear mother, that I now heartily
repent that we should have resorted to the step we have done in
pretending that you are dead. That some advantage was gained by it at
the time, I really believe; but I have a feeling that eventually some
mischief may occur from it. I hope I may be mistaken; but if I am not,
it will only be the punishment which I deserve for an act of duplicity
which I have repented of ever since."