“Hail, light of Innisfail!”
“Sunbeam of beauty, hail!”
We shall pass over Julia’s reception at Lodore, it was so exactly what
might have been expected.
No one, of course, expressed, in the presence of Mrs. Montgomery, their
conviction of Henry’s guilt. From the very strange account which our
heroine gave of her adventures, her hearers were disposed to suspect
that, in her terror, she had mistaken a coal cellar for a coal pit. This,
however, she declared could not be the case. But what traveller likes
to have the most marvellous of their adventures translated into mere,
common place, vulgar accidents.
Mr. Jackson, however, was of opinion that, making due allowance for
the exaggerations of a terrified fancy, Julia might be nearly right;
as no more effectual places of concealment could be devised, than the
situations described by her; nor was there any class of people, among
whom an unprincipled person, could more readily find agents suited to
their purpose, than the wretches in whose hands she had unquestionably
been. He thought it probable, therefore, that something might be
discovered by questioning, if not directly, indirectly, all sorts of
persons connected with the neighbouring works; some might have been
engaged in a service of the kind, whose absolute ignorance would
render them liable, on being spoken with, to betray their employers
unconsciously.