A1r

The
Esquimaux.

A Tale.

Printed by J. Darling, Leadenhall-Street, London.

A1v A2r

The
Esquimaux;

or,
Fidelity.

A Tale.

In Three Volumes.

By
Miss Emily Clark,
Grand-Daughter of the late Colonel Frederick, and
Author of
Tales At the Fireside, Banks of the Douro, Poems
Dedicated to Lady Lonsdale
, &c. &c.

“A faithful heart its ample store Can more than eastern treasures pour; ―――its price is known To pure and noble souls alone! It lends the lip a richer glow Than Persian rubies can bestow.” V.

Vol. II.

London:
Printed at the Minerva Press for
A.K. Newman and Co. Leadenhall-Street.
18191819.

A2v omittedlibrary stamp
B1r

The
Esquimaux.

Chapter I.

“Mark that fair forehead, mind’s expressive scene, Now deep in thought, now ruffled, now serene, By happy contrast seeming still more fair, Adorn’d and shaded by the clustering hair, The pulpy lip with coral tincture bright, To ivory lending more resplendent white; While each fresh blooming cheek more roundness shews, Divided by the fair proportion’d nose.” De Lille.

Rose had only remained a few minutes
in this painful situation, when, to her great
relief, Robin appeared descending with a candle. He had been roused by the noise
of the horsemen and discharge of fire- Vol. II. B arms, B1v 2
arms, and got up to see that all was safe in
the house; but the tinder being damp, he
had great difficulty in striking a light;
and this circumstance, with having to
dress, had delayed him. He procured
some water and hartshorn for Miss Jane,
and they soon succeeded in restoring her
to animation; then leading her into the
library, placed her on a sofa till she was
quite recovered.

Miss Douglas now mentioned to Robin
the lights she had seen by the river, and
the one on the staircase, which had deceived
and conducted them near the cellars,
whence the noise proceeded which
had frightened them.

Robin shook his head, and informed
them that when he was in Scotland, if
such lights were seen there, either in
houses or in their vicinity, they were
called elf-candles, and supposed to portend
the death of some of the family where
they appeared.—“Perhaps,” continued the
old man, “it may be a warning to us of sir B2r 3
sir James Douglas’s death, which will not
be a great affliction, as we expect it. God
forbid,”
he observed, “that it should be
an omen of any other person’s in the
family!”

The considerate Robin now requested
the young ladies to retire to their apartment,
as he was afraid their health might
suffer from being so thinly clothed in such
inclement weather. He begged them to
be easy in their minds, and endeavour to
obtain some repose, as it was his intention
to remain watching till daylight, when he
proposed calling the maids, and then getting
some sleep himself.

Miss Douglas told him she approved
this plan very much, and hoped he would
remain in bed all the next day if he liked,
as it was not good for his health at his age
to be deprived of rest.

He thanked her, and presenting them
with a candle, they retired to their room,
where soft refreshing slumbers soon visited
them after all their terrors, their minds B2 being B2v 4
being calmed by knowing old Robin was
on the watch to guard them from future
ill. No other alarming sound occurred,
and at daybreak he called his daughter and
Kamira, whom he acquainted with the
last night’s adventure, and then resigned
himself to the drowsiness he felt.

In the morning they awoke pale and
dispirited, for the impression still remained
of the horrors they had encountered
the night before. Jane was very dull and
melancholy, which quite surprised Rose,
who looked indisposed and did not feel
well, but was not in the least dejected.
Though she could not then developedevelop the
cause of the appearances they had seen,
and the extraordinary sounds that alarmed
them, she yet supposed they proceeded
from some natural reason, probably very
simple when known. The preceding
evening had been thick and hazy, and a
heavy dew fallen, which made her imagine
the lights were occasioned by noxious
vapours exhaled from the moist earth, as B3r 5
as Will with a wisp was seen frequently
in misty weather, and near rivers, which,
added to its being a damp foggy night,
seemed to elucidate the phenomenon.
That part of the mansion where they slept
had more tendency to dampness than any
other quarter of the building, being situated
over part of the mouldering vaults
and wet cellars that had not been opened
for long revolving years, and from
whence vapours might ascend. At all
events, she thought it would be a
weakness to anticipate evil, and determined
to make herself as little uneasy as
possible till she could ascertain the real
cause of their terror. The innocence and
rectitude of her mind, and the high sense
she entertained of religion, strengthened
her naturally timid mind, and she confided
in the supreme goodness of that great and
beneficent being, our Creator, who, she
felt assured, would not permit any supernatural
appearance or evil apparition to
injure those who have not committed any B3 crime; B3v 6
crime; she was therefore (with these sentiments)
the more astonished at the deep
impression the late incidents had made on
her sister, who appeared previously to be
undaunted and fearless.

While these reflections engaged her
thoughts, Mrs. Fane came in her carriage
to convey them to her residence, on a visit
for two days, and with great good-nature
had invited Burton and Courtenay to meet
the young ladies at dinner the first day to
amuse them. Mrs. Fane’s habitation was
an elegant modern building, erected of
Portland-stone, with a green smooth lawn
in front, commanding a pleasing view of
Exeter Cathedral, which seemed to be
placed, from the windows, among the verdant
trees and meadows.

The house was elegantly furnished according
to the direction and taste of her
favourite nephew, lord Clairville, whose
amiable attention to his excellent aunt did
honour to his heart and understanding.
Though many unfeeling and coxcombical young B4r 7
young men ridiculed him for it, their ill-
natured observations only excited the contempt
of the good.

Mrs. Fane was a very fine majestic
figure, and had been uncommonly handsome
in her youth; herself and two sisters
were the daughters of a rich tradesman,
who bestowed on his children a very accomplished
and superior education. These
three sisters possessed no common share
of beauty; the two younger married gentlemen
of distinction and fortune, and the
eldest, who was allowed to be the most
beautiful and captivating, espoused viscount
Clairville
, who was fascinated with
her mental and personal perfections. Mrs.
Fane
had a native elegance of mind and
manners, and from having married so
young, and early associated with the best
society, her address was as polished as
her heart was refined, virtuous, and benevolent.

The apartment the young ladies occupied
when they dressed for dinner was B4 ornamented B4v 8
ornamented with a portrait of the late
lovely lady Clairville, Mrs. Fane’s sister;
it was painted by sir Joshua Reynolds;
and though the colours, like many of his
paintings, were gradually fading away, yet
enough of the picture remained to trace
how exquisitely lovely and beautiful she
had been; her form appeared symmetry
itself, and her face as perfect—a fair beauty,
like her handsome daughters, whom they
had seen twice. The gardens, and every
thing belonging to Mrs. Fane’s residence,
were specimens of elegant neatness, and
her kind attention made the time flow
smooth and sweetly.

Miss Herbert was invited to meet them;
she was all kindness and affection, and
wished them to come the following day
to her father’s house. Rose declined this
invitation with a sigh, as her parents had
desired them not to visit at any other
place than Mrs. Fane’s, and once at doctor
Wizzle’s
, where they had already been.
But her amiable hostess conquered these scruples, B5r 9
scruples, by assuring her they would not
have the least objection to their visiting
anywhere with her, and that she would
accompany them to Mr. Herbert’s the
next day.

Courtenay appeared quite animated at
meeting with Rose again, and evinced
the same insinuating softness and fascination
of manners which drew the chain that
entwined her heart still closer. Rose had
no opportunity of speaking privately to
him; but when her sister only was near,
merely asked if he had written to Scotland,
as she knew Jane would not attach
any thing of importance to this question.

He replied, that on second thoughts he
had considered it would be improper till
the fate of sir James Douglas was decided,
as it might be judged obtrusive and indelicate,
at a period of so much bustle and
moment, to mention a subject of that description.
Rose acquiesced with this opinion,
apparently dictated by strict propriety;
indeed, had it been otherwise, her B5 partiality B5v 10
partiality would have influenced her to
coincide with his sentiments.

Captain Burton evidently admired Miss
Herbert
, but received no encouragement
from her, which was easily understood by
Miss Douglas. Frequently had she heard
her friend Mary Herbert declare, that
however partial she might be to an amiable
man, she would never think of indulging
that partiality, unless he was a
person of consequence and great fortune.
Mary observed, that from having been
accustomed to move in the first circles,
and to live in the best and most expensive
style, she could not for romantic love
brook a moderate situation in life.

Rose admitted that she was perfectly
right, if such were her ideas of happiness,
as she always thought no one should censure
another for thinking differently from
themselves, as almost every human being
had different ideas of felicity. Poor Burton,
she was therefore convinced, would
be doomed to wear the willow.

Mrs. B6r 11

Mrs. Fane conveyed them early the
following day to Heath Place, the seat of
Miss Herbert’s father. Mr. Herbert was
engaged to visit a friend at a considerable
distance, therefore they only beheld him
for a few minutes; but the little they had
seen prepossessed them in his favour; he
was remarkably handsome, and had the
air of a man of fashion. The residence of
Mr. Herbert was an irregular building,
charmingly situated on an eminence; originally
it contained but few rooms, but
different possessors had added to it, and it
was now a good-sized house. Never had
they seen any situation where the prospects
were so picturesque and varied;
each apartment commanded a different
delightful view.

Miss Herbert’s governess was in the
library, and they were introduced to her.
The windows of this room looked upon a
sweet woodland scene, and they seated
themselves here to enjoy the scenery quite
opposite to every other prospect. Shelves B6 for B6v 12
for books reached from the ceiling to the
floor, and were filled with the most scarce
and valuable authors, not only in English,
but in French, Italian, and other languages.
Mr. Herbert had been ambassador
at several foreign courts, and conversed
fluently and elegantly in French,
Italian, German, and Spanish, and was allowed
to be very accomplished.

From the library they proceeded to the
drawing-room, which afforded from the
windows an extended landscape, wild and
rural. But Rose was most pleased with
the paintings and portraits that ornamented
the walls. One lovely picture of Mary
Herbert
, as a child, delighted her, and she
could not quit it without reluctance, even
to look at an interesting portrait of her
grandmother, which was most expressive
and lovely; and likewise one of her aunt,
a celebrated beauty. Mr. Herbert was
likewise painted as a handsome youth, as
a boy, and at two different periods of his
life, when more advanced in years; and these B7r 13
these likenesses were all very attractive.
The garden was designed with taste, and
in the spring, summer, and autumn, an
enchanting spot, as every shrub, tree, and
flower that could be procured adorned it,
and flowering successively, diffused the
most fragrant odours, and bloomed gaily
to the eye.

When they were returning home in Mrs.
Fane’s
carriage, Rose observed, that although
she regretted quitting that lady,
to whose politeness and goodness they were
so much indebted, and the sweet spot
where Miss Herbert resided, yet she was
anxious to reach Treharne again, as she
hoped to find a letter there from her mother.

“I shall rejoice with you,” said Jane,
“to hear from Scotland; but I would
forego that pleasure, and many others, never
to return to that old dismal haunted
place.”

“Do not style it so,” replied her sister,
“till you have convincing proofs that it is the B7v 14
the resort of ghosts. Though alarmed,
like yourself, at the appalling sounds which
frightened us, it is not from the fear of its
being the abode of spirits, but the apprehension
that evil-disposed living beings
may haunt it. However, let me entreat
you to avoid nourishing disagreeable prognostics,
and anticipation of harm, as we
are going to enter it; for see its grey turrets
rising above the trees in venerable
grandeur.”

They were received by the domestics
with cheerful countenances; and while Robin
presented her, as she expected, with a
letter from her mother, he at the same
time assured her, that he had the satisfaction
of saying that no cause for terror, or
any thing unpleasant, had occurred during
their visit to Mrs. Fane.

Rose smiled, and, turning to Jane, exclaimed
“I really think those noises we
were assailed with near the cellars were
caused by cats fighting, and rats, as I have
been told they often make very extraordinarydinary B8r 15
sounds; indeed, I have heard them
myself utter horrible and offensive cries.
We must keep our fright a secret, or we
shall be ridiculed and laughed at.”

As she pronounced these words, chiefly
to remove any uneasiness from her sister’s
mind, she hastily tore open her letter, and
read it aloud to Jane. Mrs. Douglas informed
them, that sir James still continued
to linger, and though his recovery was
impossible, his disorder was of that nature,
that it might be months before the awful
event took place. It was a severe disappointment,
she continued, to be detained
at the Castle of Towie Craigs, in a manner
so unforeseen, and required some fortitude
to support, as she felt deeply concerned at
being separated from her children, more
particularly from the hope of returning
soon being now very distant. But the
pleasing intelligence she had to communicate
would compensate, she imagined, to
them as it did to her, for every other chagrin.
It was the agreeable news, that their B8v 16
their father was in most excellent health;
the air of his native hills appeared to have
restored his youth. He amused himself
with his gun, in climbing the steep ascents,
and wandering among the moors, moss-
grounds, and dales he had formerly trod;
in retracing the scenes of his youthful
pleasures, and visiting those acquaintances
of his early days that remained in the
neighbourhood, he seemed to have forgotten
all his cares. His enjoyments, Mrs.
Douglas
observed, constituted hers, for
she had no other; and when the general
was absent, she was oppressed with melancholy.
The Castle was neglected and
dirty, and she had never seen a female
countenance of higher rank than a peasant
since she entered it. The food was of
the coarsest and plainest description, and
that scantily supplied, as sir James’s ruling
passion influenced him on the verge of the
grave, and his old servants, Sandy and
Maggie, were governed by the same spirit
of economy. Though she ate but little herself, B9r 17
herself, she was delighted to observe the
keen relish with which the general partook
of his homely fare, his appetite sharpened
by straying among the leafless woods,
and over the bleak heath-covered wastes.
Mrs. Douglas concluded with saying,
that she confided in their continuing to
pursue the line of conduct the general’s
and her affection had pointed out before
they left Treharne, and that the goodness
of their children would console them for
every misfortune and mortification they
had experienced through life. Mrs. Douglas
added, that if they did not return home
as soon as they wished, she hoped they
would enjoy their brother’s society and
protection very shortly, which would enliven
their solitude.

When Rose had finished this letter, she
expressed her severe regret at the probable
long protracted absence of her beloved
parents, in which Jane concurred; and Miss
Douglas
then began to answer her mother’s
letter, and inform her of all that had passed B9v 18
passed in her absence. Her sister and herself
were to write alternately; but Rose
was to answer the first letter. Jane went
into the library to practise and sing to her
lute, while her sister was thus engaged.
Rose had written nearly half of her letter,
and described to her mother the avowal
captain Courtenay had made of his attachment,
and his first intention of writing to
her father for his consent to their union,
and that he now thought of delaying the
subject till they returned home. Just as
she had acknowledged in her letter her
predilection for him, which she hoped her
mother would approve, her attention was
aroused by the opening of the door, and
she beheld the form most dear to her enter.
Though seldom now absent from her
thoughts, he was particularly present at
that moment.

“I met your sister,” said Courtenay,
“going into the garden, and she informed
me you were alone, writing to Scotland.
I was rejoiced to hear from her that the general B10r 19
general is so well, but sorry he is detained.
Come, put by your writing, as I intend
chatting an hour or two with you;
and as no post goes from Exeter to-day,
you will have time enough to finish your
letter to-night or to-morrow. Have you
mentioned me in your epistle?”

Rose blushed, and, with her natural
candour, confessed she had disclosed his
proposals and professions of regard.

Courtenay looked rather confused, and
his eye fell beneath hers, for Rose innocently
gazed at him as she spoke, without
observing his agitation. They had
never been tête-à-tête before, except when
they walked out, and Courtenay remarking
the circumstance to her, requested to
be allowed to imprint a kiss. Rose did
not like to refuse this favour, as she considered
herself engaged to him; but when
he noticed that he never had an opportunity
of enjoying such happiness till now,
she replied, with great simplicity, that it
was his own fault.

“Had B10v 20

“Had you wished to salute me,” said
she, with naïveté, “why did you not ask
it before Jane, as I do not like to bestow
any favour in secret that I would not
grant in the presence of my mother and
sister. This has been early inculcated to
me, and that no man, who truly loves,
would require any indulgence a parent
would disapprove in their absence.”

“Your mother is a sensible woman,”
rejoined Courtenay, “but she has, like
you, prejudices, from not having seen so
much of the world as I have; she cannot
consequently be so good a judge of what
is correct and consistent with the general
opinion of mankind. You cannot love
me, if you prefer her advice to mine; you
should be guided by your Courtenay, who
truly loves you, and has no other object to
divert his thoughts from you, or divide his
affection. Your mother has a husband
and other children to engage her regard,
but I have only you—you are the only
darling of my imagination.”

“I cannot B11r 21

“I cannot doubt your sincerity,” said
Rose, “perhaps because I wish it; but I
think you are in an error, in supposing my
mother is not equally interested in my
welfare, and mine is the best and most tender
of parents.”

“Believe me, she cannot more sincerely
partake of all your enjoyments, nor wrap
round her heart more truly your cares, sorrows,
and disappointments, which I would
cheerfully dissipate, and if possible prevent:
but as no man is wise at all times, so neither
are all men happy or fortunate at all
times; it is not, it is much to be feared, the
lot of human nature to be uniform—misery
triumphs, and folly takes the lead—But
these are grave topics, and unfit for this
hour’s consideration; I will continue, therefore,
to press further that subject which
weighs too often on my mind.”

Courtenay then proceeded to speak in
the most impassioned tone of love, and to
avow that if he did not obtain her, he could
not exist. Vehemently agitated, he discoveredcovered B11v 22
in the course of this animated conversation
a freedom of sentiment and looseness
of principle, evidently tending to corrupt
the pure character of Rose Douglas
in the most designing manner. Her astonishment
was so great, that she could not
express her surprise at that moment.
Though little acquainted with the world,
her morality was so steady, and her bias
to virtue so naturally great, that she had
a horror of every thing tending to vice,
well aware of its deformity. To his infinite
vexation, Jane interrupted them, for it was
his intention to endeavour to more strongly
disseminate his vicious notions into her
spotless mind, not suspecting the disapprobation
Rose inwardly felt.

Jane had left them together two hours,
and, pleased with the society of her lover,
who interested and amused her when he
avoided that subject which was displeasing,
she had not heeded the length of time her
sister was absent.

A few minutes after Jane entered, Courtenay B12r 23
Courtenay went away, saying he should call
to inquire after their health again very soon,
and that he had forgotten, when he came
in, to deliver a message from lady Morrington.
Her ladyship regretted she had not
been able to wait on them before, and said
that she was determined to make her apologies
in person the next morning.

Accordingly, lady Morrington, accompanied
by Louise de Rimont, visited them
the following day. With a good-nature
not very usual with her ladyship, she consented,
at their request, for Louise to remain
and sleep at Treharne, promising to
fetch mademoiselle de Rimont herself the
day after, and they warmly expressed their
gratitude for this favour.

Robin being sent to the post-office with
the letter for Mrs. Douglas, Kamira admitted
sir Henry Arundel, who called unexpectedly
when the old man was gone.
The Esquimaux concluded that he was a
permitted visitor; and when the young ladies
reprimanded her afterwards for introducingducing B12v 24
any gentleman who was not on an
intimate footing at Treharne, as it was contrary
to their father’s prohibition, Kamira
smiled, and replied, he was so handsome
she could not refuse him admittance.

“I am sorry to hear that,” said Rose,
“as you may introduce people we do not
know, if their persons are attractive—a
handsome robber, perhaps.”

“Oh no, Miss Rose; Kamira see if it
is honest persons in a minute; sir Henry
look very good.”

Sir Henry Arundel entered the drawing-room
at Treharne with more than his
usual grace; and had not Rose been at
that period partial to one very much his
inferior, he was exactly the character and
appearance that would have touched her
heart; he was polished, dignified, sensible,
and virtuous: but he despised flattery,
which did not please Jane Douglas, who
was charmed with adulation, and admired
foreigners, because they assailed her with
compliments.

Louise C1r 25

Louise de Rimont always did sir Henry
justice, and generally styled him—
“Le beau Henri”.

The soft incense of flattery was harmony
to Jane, and the most exaggerated
adulation was not too gross for the delighted
weak girl; and Rose always trembled
with apprehension for her sister’s
happiness, from perceiving her heart would
soon be won by any being, however
worthless and undeserving, that flattered
her. She always repeated, with exultation
and vanity, even the most trifling compliments
she received. Rose, with the hop
of curing her, appeared to place little value
on them, and said they were not worth
repeating, and certainly insincere, as all flattering
things were. Jane, offended, attributed
her sister’s observations to envy and
jealousy. Rose perceived this, and therefore
ceased to admonish her, though her
motive was an ardent wish for her felicity,
which if Jane allowed to consist in flattering
words and attentions, would be illusiveVol. II. C sive C1v 26
and transient, as Rose reflected how
very fleeting was the season of personal
and youthful attraction.

Notwithstanding the imperfections of
her temper and disposition, Jane was
sometimes sensible of the forbearance and
affection of her sister, and would frequently
resent any aspersions against her;
but she could not conquer her own vanity,
or forgive Rose, when she attempted
to lessen her conceit and make her more
humble. The wounds of self-love are
more difficult to heal than any other.

Lady Morrington and sir Henry Arundel
left Treharne together, and Rose then
began to enjoy the society of her friend
Louise. Jane was likewise pleased with
her remaining there, as mademoiselle de
Rimont
was lively and amusing; and they
were chatting together by a cheerful fire,
when the conversation turned on the merits
of captain Burton and his friend
Courtenay.

“I understand,” said Jane, “that Burtonton C2r 27
has been engaged with an acquaintance
who resides at a great distance from
Morrington Castle, and that is the reason
we have not seen him lately, but Courtenay
has frequently called. He admires
my sister, and is a particular favourite of
hers.”

The bloom that tinged the cheeks of
Rose at this speech confirmed the truth
of what Jane had asserted, and Louise
gazed at her with a pensive expression
that heightened her blushes.

“He is very agreeable,” observed
Louise, after a pause; “very much like my
countrymen; but you mention, Miss Jane,
that he is a favourite of your sister’s—a
favourite, I hope, but not a lover. He
is not so treacherous and ungenerous as
to have made love, surely, when he is going
to be married to the wealthy Miss
Manson
? He cannot, I think, have dared
to be so presumptuous as to address a
gentleman’s daughter, when engaged to
another beneath her in rank and charms.”

C2 Rose C2v 28

Rose remained silent, for she could not
articulate, and with difficulty breathe.
The glow of health on her cheeks vanished,
and a snowy paleness succeeded; even
from her lips the roseat colour fled. A
weight seemed to oppress her heart, while
she tried to suppress the drops of anguish
that were ready to flow, as she could not
endure that Louise and her sister should
perceive her weakness, in regretting one
so unworthy and deceptious. Feeling
herself, however, nearly fainting, she found
it impossible to restrain her emotion any
longer, and was relieved by a flood of
tears.

Now first acquainted, from her own experience,
with the perfidy of human kind,
she wept in agony. The blow was more
severe, from having placed unlimited confidence
in his integrity, and disdained the
supposed voice of calumny, that had not
slandered, but described him as he deserved.

“Do not grieve, ma chere amie,” cried the C3r 29
the feeling Louise; “he is not worthy of
your sorrow; his character is too libertine,
and incapable of any real attachment. The
purity of your disposition could never assimilate
with his, and if you had married
him, you could not enjoy happiness with
a mind so opposite yours; he would
soon have deserted you, with all your attractions,
and courted novelty in some new
face, not half so handsome as your own.
The levity of his conduct with lady Morrington
is exceedingly improper, if not
criminal; and one of the servants has just
quitted the house, dishonoured by him,
and in a few months will bring a little
wretched being into the world, which expence
will be difficult for him to pay.
Lady Morrington has punished the poor
girl by turning her away directly she was
informed of the affair, and is most severe
against her. She does not blame the
greatest culprit, the seducer, but says it
is all the girl’s fault, and that she is a C3 bold C3v 30
bold slut, and no doubt tempted him. It
is not very probable—a young creature of
sixteen.”

“I am miserable,” exclaimed Rose, “to
have been so much attached to one so undeserving.”

“Rejoice at your escape from such a
monster, instead of lamenting your fate,”

continued Louise. “He is punished by
the expence he incurs in consequence of
his vices, and is so terribly in debt, that
he has no alternative but a rich wife or a
prison. I am astonished, with your correct
and pure ideas, that you should ever
have encouraged him.”

“He has worn a mask,” said Jane,
“and Rose being of an affectionate nature,
was the more attached, as she was daily
accustomed to his society. He had frequent
opportunities of winning her regard,
and making himself pleasing and
acceptable; it is not, therefore, wonderful
that he should obtain her affection, when C4r 31
when he is universally allowed to be very
captivating when he exerts himself to
please.”

“He has wound himself so artfully
round my heart,”
observed Rose, with a
dejected air, “that it will be an arduous
and painful task to erase his image from
my memory; but I will rouse all my
energies to forget him. His delay in
writing to Scotland is now accounted for.
Had my father and mother been at home,
he would not have ventured to disclose
his disgraceful passion, for it is humiliating
to be the object of a dishonourable regard.
Most artfully he took advantage
of their absence, and I was always rather
surprised at his never on any occasion
writing me a love-letter. Men in general,
when they have any attachment, I have
remarked, are eager to address the woman
they profess to love.”

“He is too old and artful to send you
a billetdoux,”
replied Louise, “from the
fear that it should, at a future period, appearC4 pear C4v 32
against him. Your candour and inexperience
were not a match for the deceitful
wary Courtenay, the most designing
and cold-hearted man that ever
existed. I have been thrown very young
on the world, and therefore soon penetrate
into the schemes of those wily beings.
Exert your fortitude, dearest Rose,
and do not injure your health by grieving
for the loss of a worthless libertine,
who has dared to insult the daughter of a
gentleman with his lawless passion, for
he must have infamous motives in making
love to you when addressing another lady.”

“It was his being harshly calumniated,”
said Rose, “that first interested me; but
I am now sorry I was so much moved in
his favour. How difficult it is to judge
correctly of any one, and how dangerous
to be influenced to think favourably of
persons you do not thoroughly know!”

Chap- C5r 33

Chapter II.

“Flown are the hours of joy, and mirth, and folly; To thee I yield myself, sweet Melancholy! Not wrapp’d in sable robe approach me now, The garb of sullen grief, with clouded brow; But come, half-veiled, as, at the close of year, Seen through the vapours, soften’d rays appear; With mild dejected air, with tender sighs, And tears delicious starting from thine eyes.” De Lille.

Of all the situations in life, the most
heart-rending is that moment when we
discover that the object we have fondly
adorned with rare perfection does not merit
that distinguished excellence which we
have blindly attributed to the idol of our
fancy, and is undeserving of the esteem
lavished on it. The confiding unsuspecting
mind is then pierced with a deep and
rankling wound, that time and religion
only can assuage.

C5 Thus C5v 34

Thus keenly wounded and depressed
with grief, was the aching bosom of Rose
Douglas
.

Louise and her sister feelingly endeavoured
to raise her spirits by lively and
entertaining subjects of conversation; and
wishing to appear grateful, she pretended
to lose the remembrance, in listening to
them, of her unprincipled lover. But a
little incident that accidentally occurred
revived the recollection of him so forcibly,
that involuntary tears bathed her pallid
cheeks, which her friend and sister pretended
to disregard, that they might not
increase her anguish.

At that instant the bugle at the side of
the river loudly sounded; the splashing of
oars in the water followed, and the sonorous
bell echoed through the ancient mansion
with a heavy solemn sound.

“We are going to have some visitor to
enliven us,”
said Jane, laughing; “I am
truly glad of it;”
while Rose ran hastily,
her sister uttered these words, out of the C6r 35
the room, and up the staircase, to reach
her apartment before the hall-door opened.
Fearful she might be obliged to make her
appearance, she bathed her eyes with cold
water, to remove the redness caused by
the tears she had shed, and as she was
thus engaged, heard the massy portal
grate on its rusty hinges.

Rose remained undisturbed for some
time, to her great satisfaction, as the traces
of affliction were disappearing, and would
soon not be easily observed. Gladly
would she have continued retired up
stairs, but Kamira tapped at the door,
and said a gentleman wished to speak
with her directly in the drawing-room.

Miss Douglas inquired who it was that
was so anxious to see her? but Kamira,
not having seen this visitor, could not tell,
as Robin had delivered the message for
her to convey to his young mistress.
Though her curiosity was awakened, she
obeyed the summons with a heavy heart.
On entering the drawing-room, imagine C6 her C6v 36
her astonishment when the first person
that met her eyes was Eustace, standing
by the fire, conversing gravely with Jane
and Louise.

Hardly could she recognize him, so
much was he changed. No longer insolent
and haughty, a pensive air was diffused
over his meagre face. His form was
equally emaciated, and an old shabby blue
great-coat hung loosely wrapped about
his wasted figure. One arm was supported
by a sling, and the other he held out
with a smile, to shake hands with Rose,
assuming a look of sweetness and good-
humour foreign to his nature.

The bugle now sounded again: the absent
blood rushed into the pale cheeks
of Eustace, and then retreated. He approached
Miss Douglas, looked at her,
struck his forehead, turned away, and advanced
afterwards to her once more. In
a hurried convulsed tone, he at length exclaimed
“It is not a moment for disguise
or delicacy: I fled here for refuge; a poor C7r 37
a poor wandering outcast claims hospitality
and shelter for the night at your
liberal hands. I am pursued by bailiffs,
and if taken, eternally ruined. For God’s
sake, caution the servants to conceal that
I am sheltered in this house!”

Rose answered not, but flew with the
rapidity of lightning from the room, with
all the feeling humanity she possessed.
A fellow-being was in distress: she remembered
not, in the impulse of the instant,
if it was her friend or enemy, a
friend herself to every child of woe.

Happily it was only one of Mrs. Fane’s
servants with a note from his mistress to
the young ladies.

Rose then repaired to the kitchen, to
desire Robin, Kamira, and Dolly, would
avoid divulging to any person that a gentleman
had arrived that night at Treharne.
Miss Douglas informed them he
was a persecuted unfortunate friend of her
father’s, and being near their residence
when pursued by villains, had fled to them C7v 38
them for succour, and she trusted that
they would not by any imprudence betray
him to destruction.

Rose now ordered them to prepare the
secret chamber at the bottom of the turret
near the cellars, which it was impossible
for any one to discover who was not well
acquainted with its situation. As soon as
it was ready, and the bedding well aired,
she desired them to inform her, and in the
meantime to bring some refreshments and
wine for the gentleman.

Rose afterwards returned to calm the
agitated mind of her guest, and disclosed
to him immediately that he had no reasonable
motive for alarm. She acquainted
him at the same time with the steps she
had taken for his entire security, and the
preventive measures she had observed
with the domestics for his safety, on whose
unshaken fidelity she could rely.

“You were ever all sweetness and
goodness,”
replied Eustace, “and my
heart has acknowledged it, though it did not C8r 39
not appear so. I should not have had
courage to attempt coming here, if the
highest opinion of you did not inhabit my
breast. Methought I heard a gentle voice
pronounce the benevolent words, ‘no revenge!’
This consideration made me hazard
sheltering myself in your deep retreat
from society for a short period, far
from the pomps and vanities of this wicked
world.”

“You are not quite a despairing swain,
with all your misfortunes,”
observed Jane;
“perhaps your afflictions will teach you
philosophy, and you will not be so often
out of humour as you used to be.”

“I know I was plaguy sulky and peevish,”
rejoined Eustace; “but it proceeded
from reflecting on the approaching loss of
my agreeable walks and pleasant chats
with you and your sister. I assure you,
in truth and sincerity, that any place with
you both, and without you, is not the same
happy and enviable spot.”

“I agree with you on that point, Mr. Eustace,” C8v 40
Eustace
,”
said Jane: “men are poor
wretched creatures without females, whose
enchanting society animates the stupid
mortals.”

The conversation was now interrupted
by Robin, with refreshments for their
guest, which he very much required, having
travelled all that day without food of
any description. After partaking of this
repast, he appeared strengthened and refreshed,
though the wound in his arm was
painful. Rose desired to examine it, as
she had a healing ointment to apply to
slight hurts. It was in defending himself
against a robber that he was wounded,
though not dangerously. Miss Douglas
humanely washed his wound, and then
placed on it the mollifying balsam, which
cooled and softened the inflamed arm.
She then summoned Robin to attend Mr.
Eustace
to the secret chamber, which she
had now appropriated, she told him, solely
for his use, to conceal him effectually from
observation, and that he might rest in peace, C9r 41
peace, assured of being securely guarded
from unpleasant intrusion.

When he was gone, Jane observed to
her sister that she was too condescending
to that ill-natured man, who had treated
her lately with unvarying insolence.—
“He ought to have been turned from the
door,”
she continued, “for his impertinence.
I am convinced he is a mass of deceit,
and has a mean soul to come cringing
and praising (because he is in distress) the
woman he before constantly insulted. If
he really admired you, as he now pretends,
he would have conducted himself better.
In adversity he can behave correctly, but
depend on it, in prosperity he will be as
gross and ill-tempered as ever.”

“I am of Miss Jane’s opinion,” said
Louise, “and should get rid of him as
soon as possible.”

“I agree with you in thinking his professions
quite insincere; but am delighted
at having an opportunity of returning
good for evil. Perhaps, when he reviews and C9v 42
and reflects on my humane conduct, it
may incline him to repent and become
more amiable. I am always an advocate
for mercy; I would wish my errors to be
forgiven, and am in consequence lenient
to the failings of others.”

Jane and Louise both laughed at her,
but this did not prevent Rose from feeling
happy at having performed a disinterested
good action, which seemed in
some degree to console and mitigate other
disappointments. Lady Morrington came
early for Louise, who had previously made
a visit with Jane and her sister to the prisoner
Eustace. They supplied him with
books, materials for writing, and all they
could devise to amuse, recommending him
likewise to ascend the turret stairs, and
walk about the different rooms the tower
contained. From the upper apartments
he could discover whoever approached the
building, and when any strangers appeared,
they advised him then to retreat to his
secret asylum. His dejected looks, his sickly C10r 43
sickly and poverty-struck appearance,
melted the tender heart of the feeling
Rose. Even Jane and Louise, whose bosoms
were steeled against him, began to
commiserate the unfortunate Eustace, and
in compassion for his present sufferings,
strove to forget his former haughty insolence.
When not walking through the
various apartments in the turret, he was
engaged in reading, or writing numberless
letters on business, which Rose promised
to get conveyed for him to the post: but
he never quitted that part of the mansion,
or ventured beyond the confines of his
secure retreat, the friendly turret.

In the afternoon Courtenay arrived. He
had watched the return of lady Morrington
and mademoiselle de Rimont, and
knowing that the coast was now clear at
Treharne, he set off for that place with all
possible expedition; eager was he to prosecute
his designs on the ill-fated unsuspicious
Rose, who never would have suspected
him. It was the information Louise communicated C10v 44
communicated that opened her eyes for
the first time; and but for her friendly
warning voice, she might probably have
been plunged still deeper in misery.

Courtenay wished to subjugate her to
his power, before his intended marriage
with Miss Manson, which he flattered
himself would not reach Miss Douglas’s
ear, as she now lived so retired in consequence
of the general’s absence. He had
considered that if he was united to a rich
woman, who did not interest his feelings,
he could with her wealth support magnificently
the woman he loved. But obtain
her he must, before he married, or it would
be impossible, he knew, to gain her, from
her rectitude of principle, afterwards.

Most fortunately, as he erroneously
thought, when he came to Treharne he
found the lovely object of his guilty passion
alone in the drawing-room. Jane
was gone out to take a walk, Rose being
too much indisposed to accompany her.
Courtenay entered with a countenance of happiness C11r 45
happiness and animation, and an elastic
step, as all his designs were apparently
prosperous. However, her serious air,
and her eyes red with weeping, as she had
indulged her grief in solitude, now her sister
was absent, alarmed and damped his
spirits.—“I am afraid you are not well,”
he exclaimed, and offered to clasp her in
his arms; but she repulsed him indignantly,
saying—“This is going beyond
the bounds of friendship, captain Courtenay.”

“Friendship!” he replied with emotion;
“that is a cold word. I deceived myself
then in supposing you allowed me
your love? Did you not own you regarded
me well enough to brave adversity? I
assure you, my love, you have never been
absent from my thoughts, and I wish you
to share my fate, good or bad. Repeat
what I desire ardently to hear again.
Would you not like to have me for your
husband?”

“You do not mean what you say,” rejoinedjoined C11v 46
Rose; “I am too poor to be your
wife; you are solicitous to gain a large
fortune.”

Courtenay started; guilt was in his
countenance; he rose from his seat, looked
confused, paced the room, and did not answer
for several minutes. At length he
mildly articulated—“How can you talk
so?—am I not poor myself?”

“Then you should never have addressed
me, nor artfully won my affection by
assiduous attention and professions of regard,
when you intended to wed another.
I have been too well educated to be your
mistress, and disgrace my family. My father
and brother are brave and honourable,
and would resent your base conduct
if they knew it; but no consideration
should cause me to endanger their valued
lives, or even yours, faithless and cruel as
you are.”

“You are quite a Pamela,” said Courtenay,
attempting to assume a careless air;
but his convulsed face and embarrassed manner C12r 47
manner proved he was quite confounded,
with all his assurance. “’Tis false that I
am going to be married. Who told you
I was? What is the name of the lady?”

“I shall not divulge who told me; but
the name of the lady is Manson, the rich
heiress.”

“It’s false as hell!” ejaculated Courtenay,
exasperated to fury: “blisters on the
tongue who said it! I am not going to
be married. Do you think I would come
and see you if I were?”

His manner was so natural as he spoke,
that Rose would have doubted the truth
of what she had heard, had not the authority
been so good; but as it was impossible
to doubt, it only made his falsehood
appear more glaring.

“Once I judged you had more honour
than to have done so,”
replied Rose; “but
that is past. I have the best testimony for
the reality of my assertions, and therefore
for both our sakes it is better that we meet
no more. I will not deny that I faithfully loved C12v 48
loved you, and my inclination would have
influenced me never to have forsaken you.
For this reason I wish you well, and shall
be tempted to think, if you had not been
in such narrow and distressed circumstances,
you would have acted more honourably;
but that we meet no more I
insist, as it can answer no good purpose.”

“But I will come and see you, if I
think proper,”
said Courtenay, with vehemence;
“you cannot prevent me.”

“I shall order the servants never to admit
you, if you oblige me to act thus by
intruding. Do not force me to such an
exposure, for the affianced husband of another
shall never be encouraged by me.”

And with these words she rushed from the
room, to conceal the heart-wounding emotion
that almost overpowered her.

Rose retreated to her own apartment,
and locking herself in, yielded to the
piercing anguish that oppressed her. Bitter
tears relieved the agonizing sensations
that rent her bosom at this final separation from D1r 49
from a man she fondly loved, though she
no longer esteemed him. Reason may
calm, but has no power to directly remove
the first impression and burst of grief at
the loss of what we value highly—time
must co-operate with reason’s gentle admonitions,
to effect a perfect cure.

Rose heard the groom lead out Courtenay’s
horses, and his loved voice speaking
to the man and Robin. Blinded nearly
with her tears, she yet approached the
window to take a last look of his beloved
form, so fatal to her repose. Hastily she
snatched a glance, fearful he might turn
his head and see her looking after him;
then clasping her hands in agony, she
threw herself almost fainting on the bed.
She listened to the sound of his horse’s
feet as he galloped off, which she would
never again hear, and then wept incessantly
for an hour.—“Alas!” she exclaimed,
“I have lost him for ever! I shall see him
no more; or if I do, it will be as the husband
of Miss Manson.”
Vol. II. D When D1v 50

When the first bitterness of her sorrow
was insensibly alleviated, and her agonized
mind more tranquil, Rose got up, and
looking in the glass, was shocked at her
appearance. Her head was very giddy;
and when she attempted to adjust her
hair and dress, her hands trembled so much,
that the attempt was not attended with
great success.

Jane returned from her walk, and was
informed that captain Courtenay had visited
Treharne. Not finding her sister below,
she sought for her up stairs; and after
searching some time, found her in their
apartment, looking so ill and woe-begone,
that she was struck with deep concern, as
the hardest heart must have been softened
at the affecting alteration she presented.—
“How can you be such an idiot,” exclaimed
Jane, “as to mourn that worthless
deceitful wretch? You should reflect
you have had a fortunate escape in not
being either his wife or his victim. Procure
a new lover quickly—that is the only way D2r 51
way to effectually console yourself for the
loss of the old one. Here is Eustace now,
would just have come in proper time, had
he not been such a needy creature; he
seems to have repented his conduct, and
looks so tenderly, and speaks so handsomely
of you, that I begin to forgive him
for what has passed. I have just been informed
by Polly Wizzle, whom I met
when I walked out, that he is the next
heir to a very large estate; I skilfully drew
from her a great deal of intelligence respecting
him, as she has not the least suspicion
of his being our guest, or any knowledge
of what has happened. But really
I do not advise you to sport that doleful
face to Eustace, unless you mean to cure
him of all inclination in your favour.
Avoid him to-day, and put on your best
looks to visit him to-morrow, and then I
think there will be some chance of your
being Mrs. Eustace, instead of Mrs. Courtenay.
But you must wait first for the old D2 relation’s D2v 52
relation’s death, and you are young enough
to wait.”

Rose smiled at her good-natured efforts
to divert her; but that smile was like a
faint gleam of sunshine on a wintry day.
She felt, however, grateful for Jane’s endeavour
to entertain and prevent her mind
from dwelling on the recollection of
Courtenay’s disingenuous behaviour. But
the remembrance of him to whom she had
been tenderly and disinterestedly attached
could not be immediately obliterated,
notwithstanding all his guilt to her. That
heart must be unstable and insipid that
can renounce its attachments with unfeeling
ease.

When Rose visited Eustace again, Jane
was with her, and looked significantly at
her sister when she perceived the respectful
tenderness with which he accosted her.
Depressed as Rose was, she could hardly
refrain from laughing when she remembered
the ridiculous remarks of Jane respectingspecting D3r 53
Eustace. In the course of conversation,
he mentioned that when the
bailiffs came in pursuit of him, he was at
a friend’s near Warwick Castle, who had
a fine house with a park and large lake,
in which they rowed about frequently.
He was enjoying himself very happily,
when the disturbers of his felicity arrived,
and inquired for him at this pleasant residence.
Suspecting from the description
they were sheriff’s officers, he desired his
friend (to whom he disclosed his situation)
to put them on a wrong scent, and set off
with the utmost celerity; but with all his
precaution was traced by them within a
few miles of Treharne. Finding himself
in its vicinity, it suddenly occurred to him
to ask shelter from the general, not knowing
he was absent, as it was a place to
which his persecutor could not easily have
access.—“Be persuaded, Miss Douglas,”
he continued, “that while life is permitted
to me, neither you or any branch of your
family shall have just cause to repent of the D3 step D3v 54
step you have taken in sheltering me; nor
can your parents censure you for being
humane. My heart is ready to render
you affectionate kindness, and when fortune
no longer frowns, my hand will be
open to serve you and your family, as far
as human means, and a sincere attention
to your and their interest, will allow. I
shall say no more on the subject at present
—guess the rest, and experience shall
demonstrate that gratitude has made me
what I profess to be, sincerely devoted to
you and them.”

“I have heard that Warwick Castle is
a most beautiful place,”
said Jane; “did
you see it?”

“I did,” replied Eustace, “and admired
the entrance to the Castle through a road
cut out of the rock, with ivy growing up
it. The porter’s lodge is composed of a
single tower; in it were shewn, when I was
there, a great many curious things that
formerly belonged to Guy earl of Warwick.
His sword and spear were larger than D4r 55
than any other man could use; I doubt
whether his horse’s armour would fit the
largest of the cart-horse kind. There was
also the tusk of a wild boar which he killed,
and the rib of a dun cow, in that day
the terror of the country, and twice as big
as any one of the common size. The inside
of the Castle is large and well furnished.
After seeing the Castle, I went
to the church, which is called the Warwick
Chapel
, and has several fine monuments;
the one of Richard Beauchamp, of
brass gilt and marble, is particularly so.
In returning from Warwick, I passed a
gentleman’s seat called Guy’s Cliff, where
this famous man resided; the stables are
cut out of the rock. Half a mile from the
road we saw Kenilworth Castle, which is
a ruin, one of the finest in England. You
recollect, undoubtedly, it was inhabited by
the earl of Leicester, who gave a grand
entertainment to queen Elizabeth.”

“I remember reading in some book a
very amusing account of it,”
rejoined Rose; “but D4v 56
“but seeing the place itself gives one a
better idea of its beauties than any description,
however exact.”

“I should like to attend you and Miss
Jane
to Warwick Castle, and all the spots
I have just mentioned; but cruel destiny
sends me far away. I have been advised to
go abroad for some time, that I may avoid
all danger from creditors till my affairs are
arranged.”

“The advice of your friends is excellent,”
observed Rose, “and I approve your
intention of being guided by it. When
you feel secure from molestation, in a foreign
country, you can then study the
best plan for extricating yourself from your
difficulties.”

“It is, however, a painful sensation to
be forced to quit one’s native land,”
replied
Eustace, “perhaps never to see it
again, and every being that is dear to our
breasts. Had I not been loaded with care
since I came here, I should not have had
a frown on my brow, but ate, drank, slept well, D5r 57
well, and had no anxiety, for the society I
like always imparts happiness most perfect
to me. I never had any real enjoyment
of your company before; I only saw
you now and then for a short period, and
consequently could not be so well acquainted
with your dispositions.”

Rose and Jane endeavoured to reconcile
him to the necessity of quitting England,
and, soothed by their representation
and kindness, he became less averse to it.

Robin was sent every morning to Exeter
with messages, commissions, or letters for
Mr. Eustace, and to other places frequently
for him, which often quite fatigued the
old man.

Eustace had business of moment to settle
before the final arrangement of his affairs,
and not having money to pay for
messengers, which he confessed to Miss
Douglas
when he borrowed a small sum
of her, occasioned much additional trouble
as well as expence at Treharne, as a separate
table was also provided for him every D5 day. D5v 58
day. He remained a fortnight longer,
during which period they declined, on his
account, visiting Mrs. Fane, fearful the
servants should make any blunder and
inadvertently betray him in their absence,
as several strange rough-looking men had
lately made inquiries after him at their
house.

Some days previous to his departure,
when his business was nearly settled, he
told Rose, before her sister, that his gratitude
would never cease, and that if she
would condescend to accept his hand and
accompany him to a foreign country, he
could maintain her there, though not
in England. Eustace added, that he
would be her servant, till she got another
abroad, as he could not take one with them,
as nothing is to be told to servants, who,
unless old and faithful attendants, are always
fond of chatting, which would spoil
his plan of retreat from his own country,
and the retirement in which he wished for
a year or two to live.—“I propose this,” continued D6r 59
continued Eustace, “that you may not
doubt the sincerity of my grateful attachment
to you; and I only mention it on
condition your mother approves my proposals.”

“Rose must be stark staring mad to
think of it,”
exclaimed Jane; “and how
can she have my mother’s sentiments on
the subject, when you set out so soon?”

“I dared not hope for success, when I
offered myself to Miss Douglas; but I
wished, by so doing, to prove I would risk
all for her, as a wife in travelling is an encumbrance,
though a pleasing one.”

“I thank you for the compliment you
have paid me,”
replied Rose, “but I assure
you I have not the least wish to
marry at present; and even if I had, I
would not be so imprudent as to encumber
you with more expence in your embarrassed
situation.”

“If you are disengaged when I return,”
said Eustace, “I shall hope to be
favourably received. Miss Jane may D6 laugh D6v 60
laugh and be severe,”
said Eustace, smiling,
“but I don’t care a farthing—no, not
a farthing rushlight, for all the venom such
a little vixen can eject. I love you with
the purest love, and if I clearly escape
from the ruffians who wished to lay their
delectable paws on me, I trust that persecution
itself will be weary of tormenting
one poor individual. I did intend,”
continued
Eustace, “to have purchased some
trinket, to present as a little offering of
grateful regard, but I have been prevented.
It would have been hardly worth
your notice, yet knowing the goodness of
your heart, I felt you would take the
will for the deed, and believe my kind
intention, that if more valuable it would
be more gratifying to me. It is with pain
I touch on the subject; I can therefore
say no more now, except that I shall feel
like a fish out of water when I leave you,
to make use of an inelegant phrase, though
it expresses my meaning.”

“Why did you make promises that you D7r 61
you could not perform?”
exclaimed Jane,
“and all this preamble when you had nothing
to give. Better to be silent.”

“For shame, Jane! do not hurt the feelings
of Mr. Eustace by such remarks.”

“Don’t tease yourself, Rose—his feelings
are like mine, not easily wounded.”

“I hope, in some fortunate hour,” rejoined
Eustace, “to stand clear of Miss
Jane’s
dark insinuations relative to not
keeping my promise. All that I have
ever said I will fulfil—all my promises I
will perform. Did you ever, Miss Jane,
hear the following lines against evil
speaking? ‘Oh, social beings! honour’d with a tongue, Ne’er use a means so great to ends so wrong; Wise to improve, or innocent to please, With studious caution shun the dire disease; So happiness shall flow from friend to friend, And speech not deviate from its first great end, Which nature, for your general good design’d, Gave as a key t’ unlock the generous mind.’”

“Very good and appropriate,” observed Rose; D7v 62
Rose; “I wish that every person may be
guided by these excellent sentiments.”

“And now I flatter myself,” continued
Eustace, smiling, “that ill-natured Miss
Jane
, having heard what I have to say in
my defence, will judge more favourably.
In a very few years, perhaps months, I
shall inherit a large estate from a relation,
who is considerably advanced in age, and
in a critical state of health, impaired by
frequent indispositions. Then,”
he exclaimed,
with apparent enthusiastic ardour,
“I will prove my gratitude to Miss Douglas,
who, though not rich herself, befriended
me in the trying season of misfortune,
when all had forsaken me—the woman
who pretended to love me, friends, relations
—all. Here I found a refuge, when
no other roof would shelter me. May
Heaven grant that the time shall arrive
when we separate in life no more!”

Rose thanked him for the good opinion
he entertained of her, for the confidence
he reposed, and also for his intention of returningturning D8r 63
threefold the benefits he had received;
yet she could not inwardly attach
much value or importance to his professions,
from having been lately so cruelly
deceived in one to whom she attributed
every virtue that could adorn the human
mind, whose understanding she had respected,
whose courage she had admired,
and whose good sense she had highly
esteemed. Miss Douglas was not eager
to believe asseverations made in the moment
of calamity, and said but little to his
protestations that his entire confidence
should be placed in her, and the transactions
of his future life reposed wholly in
the faithful depository of her friendly bosom.
For his own sake she wished he
might be sincere, and seriously reform, and
if he did evince gratitude, would prove he
had some goodness of heart.

Eustace left them late at night, and
Rose and her sister were again solitary,
with only the servants, in the ancient and
extensive mansion at Treharne.

Chap D8v 64

Chapter III.

“A weary lot is thine, fair maid, A weary lot is thine, To pull the thorn thy brew to braid, And press the rue for wine.” Collection of Songs.

“I cannot imagine what is the matter
with me,”
said Rose, just before they retired
to rest, the night after Eustace quitted
Treharne; “I feel uncommonly stupid
and heavy, and seem to have no energy.”

“It is caused,” replied Jane, “by
having fretted yourself till you are weak
and ill, and I recommend you to yield no
longer to despondence.”

“You cannot reproach me with any
weakness to-day, as I have employed every
moment, that my mind might not have
leisure to dwell on unpleasant retrospection.
I must be sensible if I did not occasionally D9r 65
occasionally feel unhappy at so recently
discovering that the being I thought possessed
perfection was perfidious and inhuman.”

“We will not enter on that topic now,”
exclaimed Jane, “or we shall be dreaming
about the perfidy of mankind; and I
wish to go to sleep with a pleasing impression
that I may have agreeable dreams.”

As Jane spoke, her sister’s eyes imperceptibly
closed, and overcome with resistless
drowsiness, she hurried off her clothes,
and sunk immediately into a profound
slumber. Yet her rest was not calm, but
frequently disturbed with horrible dreams:
sometimes she was carried over tremendous
precipices, from which she often fell,
and awoke with the shock, but only to
sink directly into the same uneasy repose,
and dream of encountering robbers and
murderers.

The morning was far advanced, and the
beams of a winter sun darted its rays
through the casements, when Rose awaked again D9v 66
again with a violent pain in her head. She
did not know the time, as Kamira always
called them at eight, when they had not
been up at an unusually late hour; but
she was determined to rise now, as she
considered it would be of benefit to her
headache.—“Jane,” said she, “I am very
unwell, and that is the reason, I suppose,
I was so dull when I went to sleep.”

No answer being returned, Rose put
back the curtains of her bed to see if her
sister still slept, and perceived that she was
risen before her. Concluding from this
circumstance, which was quite unusual,
that the morning was very far advanced,
she hastily arose, and quickly dressing herself,
repaired to the breakfast-room. Here
she did not, as she expected, find her, and
there was no appearance of her having
breakfasted, or any preparation for that
meal.

Rose now summoned Kamira, and inquired
if her sister had breakfasted? The
Esquimaux replied in the negative, and that D10r 67
that she was gone, she told her, to take a
walk, and desired previously that Miss
Douglas
might not be disturbed, as she
was indisposed. To conceal her surprise
was difficult, as Jane never walked so
early; but she kept secret her astonishment
in her own breast. The day, however, wore
away, and Jane did not return; Rose could
no longer therefore disguise the uneasiness
that oppressed her. The servants were
good and faithful, and by confiding her
anxiety, which she did, respecting her sister,
to them, she hoped to remove it, as
they might, by cautiously inquiring, discover
where she was.

Robin, who observed how deeply his
young lady was agitated, begged her to be
calm, at least till night, as Miss Jane would
probably return then.—“Perhaps she
has,”
said the old man, “when she walked
out, met with some acquaintance, who
has persuaded her to accompany them
home.”

“I will hope it is so,” said Rose, “though D10v 68
“though a thousand fears assail me, as I
think something was given me to drink
last night, to make me sleep more than
usual; and her desiring me not to be
called in the morning has a suspicious appearance.”

“Ey, sure!” cried Dolly, “I hope that
none of the ghostesses have carried dear
Miss Janie off; I was afeard summut terrible
was going to be; we did not hear all
those noises for nought. Methinks Kamira
and I had better walk about and see
as how we may light upon finding young
Missy.”

Rose approved this plan suggested by
Dolly, but cautioned her and Kamira not
to hint to any person whatever that her
sister had clandestinely disappeared, as it
would have a strange effect and give occasion
for scandal; for detraction is always
busy in injuring the reputation of every
one on the most trifling foundation.

“We will be as still as mice,” replied
Dolly.

“And D11r 69

“And me,” cried Kamira, “me say nothing;
me heart-broke, me no find Miss
Jane
. My poor massee, my poor missee,
what they do, they come home, they find
no child?”
and the tears streamed down
her cheeks as she spoke.

The ardent feeling and fidelity of Kamira
was the greatest consolation Miss
Douglas
now possessed, and in hers and
Dolly’s absence, it is impossible for language
to do justice to the racking torture
that convulsed her mind. At every noise
she ran to the windows or door, elated
with the hope of her sister’s return, but
only more keenly to feel the disappointment.
Her heart palpitated with every
sound, and it required the utmost exertion
to prevent her spirits from sinking
into gloomy despair. She gazed till her
eyes ached, on the silver waters of the
river, ruffled by the bleak winds that loudly
roared, and bowed down the leafless
trees, whitened with hoar frost. The
faint gleam of the sun was now obscured by D11v 70
by dark clouds; cold and comfortless was
the prospect, and a hazy fog began to rise,
and diffuse a still greater gloom. The
poor birds flew to the drawing-room windows,
to peck the crumbs she placed there
in winter for them, and the robin and little
wren were her constant visitors. When
the ground was covered with snow, the
blackbird, thrush, and various other feathered
inhabitants of the sky, flew to partake
of her bounty.

Dolly and Kamira came back at sunset,
without any intelligence of Miss Jane, and
when the day was quite closed in, Rose found
herself more disconsolate and lonely than
ever, without her companion, her sister,
that she loved. It was a stormy night;
showers of hail rattled against the casements
and startled her, as she was nervous
and feverish from the excessive agitation
of spirits she had suffered. Sharp and cutting
winds shrilly resounded through the
antique structure, and caused strange
sounds, reviving the expectation that her sister D12r 71
sister was returned, and thus more acutely
depressing her hopes. Neither the servants
or Rose retired till a later hour, that
they might be ready to receive Miss Jane
if she returned: but vainly did they expect
her. When her sister entered their
room, and looked at the vacant bed, her
heart swelled almost to suffocation—the
agonies she felt were indescribable. Sometimes
she feared that Jane had fallen into
the river, and then other images of horror
presented themselves, till, exhausted with
misery and the deepest affliction, Rose
wept herself to sleep.

The next day, Miss Douglas recalled
to her remembrance how dull her sister
had been for some time, which was (as she
then remarked) quite foreign to her natural
character. These observations made
her apprehensive that her flight was premeditated,
and she shuddered lest any
unworthy reason should have prompted
her to forsake her paternal roof. The uncertainty
she was in relative to her sister’s fate D12v 72
fate added a keener sting to the sorrows
that pierced her bosom. She likewise recollected
Jane’s aversion latterly to the old
family mansion, their residence, which appeared
as if she had one more agreeable in
view.

In the afternoon, as Rose was mournfully
seated, reading to divert her sad reflections,
Robin entered with a note, which,
he said, a countryman had left, and would
not wait for an answer. At the sight of
her sister’s handwriting, she was ready to
faint with joy, as it convinced her she was
living. Eagerly she tore it open, anxious
to receive some comfort to relieve her agonized
mind. Jane mentioned in her letter,
that she was concerned to have added
to her uneasiness by quitting her secretly,
but circumstances of infinite importance
had imperatively obliged her to act with
apparent want of feeling; that she wished
to inform her she was well, and not far off,
and if Rose would meet her at twelve the
following morning, in the wood at the back of E1r 73
of Treharne, near the rustic seat, she would
then impart, for her satisfaction, the events
that had occasioned her mysterious conduct.

The affectionate disposition that was peculiar
to the character of Miss Douglas
made her rejoice at learning that no fatal
accident had happened to Jane—she lived,
and that was comfort inexpressible; every
other sorrow, but that of losing her for
ever in this world, could be endured. The
servants were told to make no additional
search, as she had received intelligence
that was satisfactory. Impatiently did she
look forward to the moment appointed,
though anxiety mingled with the delight
of meeting her. Every hour was an age
till the time arrived for her repairing to
Treharne wood, to meet her lamented
sister.

The sun shone brightly, with more than
usual splendour, when Rose commenced
her walk to the rustic seat. Its golden
beams glittered on the evergreens, whose Vol. II. E verdant E1v 74
verdant leaves were unshaken by the
piercing blast that whistled through the
wood, where luxuriantly flourished the
laurel, with large dark berries, the fir-tree,
pine, and gloomy yew. The green and
variegated holly and mountain-ash, with
their scarlet berries, formed a gay and
pleasing contrast to the deep green of the
bay-tree and ivy. The severity of the cold
was unfelt by Rose, who walked very fast,
and the silence of the woodland scene was
only interrupted by the fluttering of the
mistletoe-thrush, who feeds in winter on
the white berries of this plant, that grew
on the ash and apple-trees with which
Treharne wood abounded.

Rose waited a quarter of an hour at the
place of rendezvous with agitation and impatience.
At last Jane appeared, slowly
advancing towards her. Rose burst into
tears when they met, and perceived, with
grief, Jane’s pale and altered countenance,
which betrayed the conflicting passions she
had suffered since they parted.

“If E2r 75

“If I had thought you would have been
so foolish,”
exclaimed Jane, “I should have
avoided meeting you, and will quit you
this instant, if you do not compose yourself.”

Rose trembled; she could not for some
minutes articulate; but when the painful
emotion subsided, and allowed her to speak,
she asked Jane the meaning of her removal
from her home, and requested, with the
most endearing affection, that she would
return with her to Treharne.

“That is not in my power now,” replied
Jane, mournfully; “I am no longer my
own mistress―I am married.”

“Thank Heaven!” cried Rose, with
transport. “I dreaded something―
be not offended; but from the secrecy of
your departure, I shuddered lest you were
lost to yourself. Think what I have suffered
from the fear you had sacrificed your
all—your purity of mind; and horror seized
me, as the apprehension tortured my
breast that you had persuaded to seal E2 your E2v 76
your own misery, for I was convinced
much artifice must have been employed to
make you act wrong. But why keep
your marriage a secret?”

“My husband will not allow me to disclose
our union, for some reason, to which
I am a stranger. It is too late to retract;
I have given myself a master, and I am
forced to obey. Oh, Rose! had I followed
your advice, which I despised, I should
not have been thus miserable. It is Mrs.
Pryce
that has been my destruction. To
divert myself, I weakly embraced every
opportunity of going to see her, contrary
to your persuasion, and unknown to you
and my mother. Her artifice is powerful,
and her influence so great, that she gained
a forcible ascendancy over me. Two gentlemen
were constantly at her cottage
when I visited her by appointment; and
one of them, colonel Guilford, who was
in the meridian of life, paid me the most
assiduous and distinguished attention.
His flattery was so delicately and judiciouslyly E3r 77
applied, that although I did not admire
his person, by degrees I got entangled with
him in a love affair; yet I would not,
though I gave him encouragement, positively
engage myself, as I really was not
partial to him as a lover. In fact, I should
never have noticed colonel Guilford, had
he not contrived to flatter my vanity so
ingeniously, and with such fascination,
that he governed me against my inclination.
Time passed, and every thing went
on quietly, till by some chance (of which
I am ignorant) the colonel gained information
of the assiduities and admiration of
the count de Fontenai and the marquis de
Monclair
. I suspect indeed now, that
Mrs. Pryce, to whom I imparted all that
occurred in confidence, betrayed me, as I
had mentioned how much the count and
marquis admired me, for it is impossible
to imagine any other method by which he
could gain this intelligence.
In one of our stolen interviews, colonel
Guilford
repeated what we had heard, E3 and E3v 78
and pretended to be frantic at my encouraging
any other admirer, saying he would
wash his hands in the blood of that man
who dared address me. The colonel added,
that if I did not consent to marry him
in a few days, he would destroy me, and
afterwards blow out his own brains. I
was terrified into compliance, and consented
to meet him in three days at Mrs.
Pryce’s
, to listen to what he had further
to say on the subject; for I really fancied
he loved me to distraction, and would execute
his horrible design if I refused his
hand.
Most unfortunate was the moment
when I entered that false woman’s house.
I called there again, according to my engagement
with Guilford, and found him
with his friend, sir George Tracey, and
Mrs. Pryce, seated at table. After an
early dinner, with an elegant dessert, and
a profusion of different costly wines, of
which they made me partake, I am of
opinion that some intoxicating ingredient was E4r 79
was poured into the wine, for I only, with
great persuasion, drank two glasses, yet
felt giddy and stupid after drinking them.
Sir George and Mrs. Pryce soon after
quitted the room, and Guilford then accosted
me with the most winning tenderness.
When he perceived his arts had
taken effect, he mentioned that a clergyman
was in the house, and that he had
procured a special licence, which would
make me his for ever. A heavy stupor
enchained my senses, caused by the drug
infused into the wine; I was scarcely sensible
of what I did, and influenced by terror
(as the fear of some horrible catastrophe,
if I refused, overwhelmed me), in an evil
hour I consented to unite my destiny with
colonel Guilford’s. Sir George officiated
as my father, and Mrs. Pryce, who was
the instigator of this imprudent marriage,
witnessed it. Guilford appeared enraptured
with my compliance, and apparently
adored me, which reconciled me then
to my imprudence. We met occasionally E4 at E4v 80
at Mrs. Pryce’s, and he always evinced
the most ardent affection. Our union was
concealed, on account of a wealthy relation,
who wished him to marry a rich
lady with a title, and he considered it prudent
to keep it a secret till his death, to
which measure I assented.
A circumstance, however, that would
have been interesting, had my parents’ approbation
sanctioned my marriage, obliged
me to take some step to avoid my situation
being known. To my extreme surprise,
instead of rejoicing at an event which
I have been told is pleasing to most men
who are attached to their wives, he was
quite out of humour. It was useless for
him to be discontented; he had no alternative,
and conveyed me, on the morning
I was missed, to a small house about ten
miles off. Previously, he gave me some
opium to put in your wine and water the
preceding night. Colonel Guilford soothed
me, by promising to wait on you the
same day himself, and acquaint you with my E5r 81
my being his wife, while, at the period of
this disclosure, he should also solicit your
secrecy: but he contrived to delay his intention,
and seemed to evade calling on
you, which made me very uneasy, and resolve
the intelligence should be no more
postponed, as suspense on such an occasion
might be of serious injury in your delicate
state of health; you would perhaps conjecture
some dangerous accident had happened,
fatal to my life, and I determined
to discover all to you.

I wished likewise to ask your advice
how to conduct myself respecting my father
and mother. Should I acquaint them
with my indiscretion in writing, or defer
it till they return from Scotland, or keep
them in ignorance of my fate? Guilford
insists on my marriage being concealed
from them; and should he find I have disobeyed
him, I tremble at the consequence,
from the violence of his temper (too much
like my own), which is already depressed
and less turbulent, from meeting with a E5 spirit E5v 82
spirit still more untractable.”
Here Jane
sighed, and thus continued:—“It is my
wish not to irritate him, as I fear his passions
vented on me may injure the little
unfortunate being that I feel I shall love,
and will not, I hope, suffer from the imprudence
of its mother. It will always,
however, remind me of my imprudent
weakness, and want of confidence in you
and my parents. I see too plainly now,
that acting wrong brings its own punishment.
I used to ridicule your ‘preachments,’
as I styled them; but I regret. I
have not been more attentive to your admonitions.
But the moments fly too rapidly;
I must quit you, though with reluctance,
and will by letter inform you
how I go on.

Mrs. Pryce is at present detestable to
me. From discoveries I have made, it is
evident she has gained pecuniary advantages
by leading me into the snares Guilford
laid for my ruin. I have not time
to explain any thing more; it must be deferredferred E6r 83
till we meet again. However, in the
meantime, do not be afflicted, as you have
no cause for self-reproach, and your sorrows
will, I doubt not, terminate happily, and you
will rejoice at what you now lament.”

Jane ceased her narration, and Rose,
who had been almost petrified with concern
while she was speaking, now rallied
her spirits, that her sister might not perceive
how much she was agitated on her
account. Having made her promise to
write frequently, and acquaint her if she
was well and happy, Rose kissed, and
then embracing her, attended Jane, now
Mrs. Guilford, to the postchaise that waited
at the edge of the wood.

Rose gazed at the chaise that conveyed
her off till it was no longer discernible,
and returned home, lonely, dejected, and
unhappy. She felt that her sister had
stamped her own misery, by an indiscreet
marriage, unapproved by their father and
mother, and she was bewildered, in considering
how to act in the best manner for E6 hers E6v 84
hers and her parents’ happiness. Yet, melancholy
as she was, Rose felt considerable
relief at knowing Jane’s real destiny, as no
tortures can be so painful as the pangs the
mind endures that suffers the torments of
suspense, when we picture to ourselves
yet greater evils than have truly occurred.
Another gleam of comfort was, that Jane
had not disgraced her family; she had
been imprudent, but not criminal, and her
interesting critical situation appeared to
have had the fortunate consequence of
rendering her more steady, and made her
seriously reflect on her misconduct. Rose
liked her sister’s vivacity when it was restrained
within proper bounds, but when
she transgressed them, and wounded the
feelings of others thoughtlessly, it often
inflicted severe pain, which inclined her
to wish that Jane had more sensibility.

When Rose reached the mansion, Mrs.
Fane
had been there half-an-hour waiting
for her. That lady, who had a great deal
of penetration, discovered from her altered countenance, E7r 85
countenance, no longer blooming with
health and animation, that something very
particular had happened to distress her.
Hardly dared she ask Rose the cause of her
pensive look, from a forebodement that
some serious calamity had happened. This
lady loved her friend, Mrs. Douglas, with
the most sincere affection, and the prospect
of any affliction befalling her or any
of her family would have caused her the
deepest sorrow. Mrs. Fane inquired after
Miss Jane Douglas, as she was absent, and
the perturbation with which Rose answered
that she was well, but not at home,
convinced her that all was not right.

“Your expressive countenance, my dear
Miss Douglas,”
said Mrs. Fane, addressing
her in the benevolent tone of sympathy
and pity, “is not adapted for disguise, and
tells me that some disastrous occurrence
has plunged you into anxiety: place confidence
in me, and my experience may be
of service, while sacred shall be the events
you confide.”

Rose E7v 86

Rose hesitated for a few minutes, as it
was not her secret only, but her sister’s;
otherwise, from the frankness of her character,
she would instantly have disclosed all.

The struggle in her bosom soon, however,
terminated, when she reflected how
much she at present required a discreet
and discerning friend. Without further
hesitation, Rose now revealed, with candour
and artlessly, her unexpected grief at
being deprived so alarmingly of her sister’s
society, at a period, too, when the consolation
of a companion was most required.
Yet this deprivation she could have borne
with resignation, had she been assured of
her happiness; but she had, alas! reason
to fear, that by her want of duty, and desertion
of her, she had ascertained her own
infelicity.

Mrs. Fane listened to this simple narrative
with the softest commiseration, and
soothed her wounded feelings by infusing
the balm of pleasing expectation, that the
whole affair would end better than she had E8r 87
had dared hope. This friendly and discerning
lady advised her to defer, till it
was inevitable, acquainting the general
and Mrs. Douglas with Jane’s elopement.
A precipitate avowal of her clandestine
marriage, as they were at a distance, would
poignantly afflict them, and irritate the
general, which would add an additional
pang to her mother’s woes. Many alleviating
circumstances might intervene before
their return to Devonshire; and Mrs.
Fane
promised, by relating herself to Mrs.
Douglas
what had passed since her departure,
to spare Rose the painful disclosure.
This promise made her less miserable,
and the agreeable conversation of this
amiable woman contributed to compose
and enliven her spirits.

Mrs. Fane remained with her three
hours, and in that interval, when they
ceased speaking on unpleasant subjects,
endeavoured successfully to divert her by
describing scenes in London, and relating
anecdotes of different characters, quite new to E8v 88
to Rose. When that lady left her, she
had the satisfaction of perceiving she was
cheerful and composed, and pleased with
her intention of visiting her in a day or two.
The consoling hopes inspired by Mrs.
Fane
partly restored the native gaiety of
Rose Douglas. No trifling cause had
power to ruffle the serenity of her temper;
naturally cheerful, the even sweetness and
vivacity of her disposition diffused delight
around, and often animated and infused
good-humour and sprightliness into the
sullen and morose

The coldness of the night was unfelt, as
Rose, seated at work after tea in the library,
where a glowing fire brightly blazed,
sweetly sung to beguile her thoughts from
recurring to any recollection that would
disturb the tranquillity enjoyed at this peaceful
moment by her innocent mind. Nature
seemed to sleep; all was hushed, and not a
sound, except the warblings of her own
voice, broke on the ear. Transitory, however,
was the undisturbed silence of this quiet E9r 89
quiet scene; approaching footsteps dissolved
the serene stillness that reigned
without interruption.

The door opened, and Robin ushered
in a gentleman, whom he announced as
the friend of captain Felix Douglas.
Though Felix was only an ensign, the
servants and country people generally
styled him the captain. Miss Douglas
rose from her seat, and eagerly advanced
to the gentleman, delighted to see any one
who was intimate with her brother, and
brought intelligence of him so deservedly
beloved by her. Robin retired just as
she was addressing the stranger with the
usual compliments on such an occasion,
and requesting him to approach the fire.

The stranger answered not, but stood
immovable and irresolute, till the retreating
steps of Robin were unheard. Amazement
at such unexpected behaviour astonished
Rose, but before she had time to
recover from the wonder that seized and
perplexed her, the stranger hastily threw off E9v 90
off the plaid cloak and fur cap which disguised
him, and discovered to her astonished
sight the figure of her perfidious
lover, Courtenay.

A light wig covered his black hair, and
a pair of brown mustachios, painted on his
upper lip, disfigured and altered him so
effectually, that it was impossible to find
out the diguisement immediately. Rose
shrieked aloud, but Robin was too far off
to hear her, as he was very deaf.

Courtenay clasped her to his bosom, and
asked if he had not counterfeited well to
deceive her and the old man? adding,
that it was a proof how much he loved, to
take so much trouble only to see her.

Indignant, Rose struggled to free herself;
but he held her fast, notwithstanding
all her efforts and remonstrances. Finding
that opposition would not move him,
Rose now descended to entreaties. Pathetically
and with tears, she implored
him to release her, and at length gained
her point. But Courtenay would not restorestore E10r 91
her to liberty till he had first insisted
on her listening attentively to him. Unmindful
of this stipulation, Rose was no
sooner released than she flew to the bell,
which Courtenay prevented her reaching,
being aware of this circumstance.

He instantly uttered the most horrible
imprecations, and threatened that the consequence
should be seriously fatal if she
again made the attempt. Rose submitted,
from knowing that the kitchen was
at too great a distance for her screams to
be audible, and she yielded from necessity.

Courtenay now proceeded, with an eloquence
that might have prevailed in a
nobler cause, to supplicate her to be his
mistress privately. His embarrassed finances,
and the debts he had contracted,
would not suffer him, he observed, to
marry at a period so critical, but that in
the course of a twelvemonth his income
would be augmented; he could then have
the happiness of offering himself and fortune
to her, though the ardour of his passion E10v 92
passion would not brook delay till that
time, as another might in the interim deprive
him of her he only loved. The
match that was to have taken place between
him and Miss Manson had, he asserted,
been broken off, from his superior
attachment to her, and he was resolved no
consideration should influence him to wed
another woman—he was hers and only
hers for life, and if she would indulge him
by being his, on his own terms, for a short
time, he could visit her at her father’s till
fortune was his friend, and he could call
her his own in the face of the world.

Rose mildly deprecated a proposal she
considered as insulting to a female educated
in virtuous principles. Finding she
persevered in rejecting gently, but with
firmness, his vicious propositions, his rage
became ungovernable.—“Do you think,”
he cried, with an expression of fury that
made her shudder—“do you think I will
sacrifice all my brilliant prospects for love
and you? No! you shall be mine on what terms E11r 93
terms I think proper;”
and as he thundered
out these words, with the countenance
of a demon, he struck her several
blows so severely, that they appeared as if
they would annihilate and crush her slight
and fragile form, shaped with unequalled
symmetry.

Seeing her shrink from him with horror,
he roughly grasped her arms till the
coarse pressure bruised them, then seized
her hand so tightly, that he grazed the
skin, and the blood gushed out. Terrified
to agony, and writhing with pain, Rose
was quite desperate, as she thought herself
in the power of a madman; she now exerted
all her strength, and springing suddenly
and forcibly from him, reached the
bell, which she rang violently, feeling her
life endangered.

To hear their young lady ring the bell
with such violence was so unusual, that
Robin and Kamira were quite frightened,
as they remembered a stranger was with
her, and had been told stories of robbers introducing E11v 94
introducing themselves into a house with
some plausible tale. The faithful Indian
would accompany him to the library, to
assist in defending her dear Miss Rose, if
necessary.

Courtenay gnashed his teeth and grinded
them with a ferocious glance when
they entered, which gave him a fiend-like
look, not resembling any thing human
Rose had ever beheld. Inwardly she returned
thanks to Heaven, who had rescued
her from the power of this barbarian, in
whose face, distorted with brutal anger
and unmanly vice, she could not trace the
soft, smiling, insinuating being who had
won her regard.

A moment had scarcely elapsed since
the bell loudly sounded, for Robin and
Kamira had ran instead of walked from
the kitchen, so much did they respect and
love Miss Rose, and feel alarmed, from
the fear of any harm happening to their
excellent young lady. Both servants stood
aghast when they perceived captain Courtenay,nay, E12r 95
as they knew him notwithstanding
his mustachios, and Robin was surprised
at finding a gentleman in the library so
different from the one he had introduced,
and that he had described to Kamira,
which filled her with wonder. Miss
Douglas
desired Kamira to remain in the
library, and told Robin to attend captain
Courtenay
to the hall-door, and then ferry
him over the river. With a gloomy, sullen
air, Courtenay put the wig in his
pocket, placed his fur cap on his head,
and throwing on the plaid cloak, walked
away without speaking. He was so much
disconcerted that he had lost all that artful
self-command that generally distinguished
him, and made him succeed in his impure
wicked designs

When Rose heard Robin return from
escorting him to the other side of the river,
a weight appeared taken off her mind.
She told him to securely fasten every door,
and particularly that one at the back of the E12v 96
the house, by which she discovered he had
entered. Robin had attributed his coming
that way to his being a stranger, and had not
entertained the least suspicion; but Miss
Douglas
cautioned him to be more careful
in future, and never suffer any one to enter
by that back passage at night. When
Robin was dismissed, Rose shewed Kamira
the bruises on her arms, which were
very painful and frightfully swelled; one
hand was very much lacerated and bleeding,
to which she made Kamira apply the
ointment that had cured the wound Eustace
had received in defending himself.

Kamira bathed the bruises with hot
vinegar, and as she gently rubbed them,
washed the marks of savage violence with
the tears of fidelity and real sensibility.
The ideas of revenge in which she had
been educated mingled with her sorrow
for her mistress; anger flashed in her fine
black eyes as she ceased to weep.—“I
should like to dip my hands in his heart’s blood,” F1r 97
blood,”
she exclaimed; “me kill tiger-
hearted man if he come here again—me
lay him head low, and scalp him.”

Ill as Rose felt, she could scarce refrain
from smiling, as a word from her made
her as gentle as a lamb, though she talked
so furiously; for gratitude was the first
sentiment that influenced the American
Indian’s
grateful breast, and to obey her
benefactors the chief wish of her ardent
soul.—“But have I not taught you, Kamira,”
said Rose, “when I instructed you
in our religion, that we must forgive our
enemies, and do good to those who treat
us cruelly? I hope I shall never see captain
Courtenay
again, but I do not wish
to revenge myself on him.”

“Ah! me remember all about forgive
enemies, that very true; but you did not
say that Bible told you we was to forgive
friends, only enemies. Now captain
Courtenay
be a friend, he say he love you.
No, no, God does not say we forgive
friends that’s treacherous, as a serpent in Vol. II. F the F1v 98
the woods—like a rattlesnake. No, no,
Miss Rose, Kamira right.”

Rose found it impossible to persuade
Kamira to think differently, and she
ceased to combat her opinions. The
appearance of Courtenay, and his unparalleled
and unpardonable insults and
barbarity, had again disturbed her returning
tranquillity: yet amidst all the anguish
that oppressed her, she had one gratifying
source of consolation, the unshaken
rectitude and faithful zeal of her domestics,
that no money could bribe—no temptation
allure, to betray her to Courtenay
by willingly admitting him. Since he
had thus artfully intruded himself, she
never suffered herself to be alone, as she
thought it most prudent to be prepared
for the worst events, though she did not
anticipate what was alarming.

Again she repeated her caution to Robin,
to avoid letting any strangers enter at
the back-door after day had closed. She
likewise desired him never to introduce any F2r 99
any person he was unacquainted with till
he had inquired their name and business,
and then, unless Kamira or Dolly was
with her, to remain in the apartment till
she requested him to go, as Dolly was her
companion when Kamira was unavoidably
absent.

Kamira was the only person to whom
she had resolution to disclose the infamous
and brutal conduct of captain Courtenay,
and the horror he had inspired her with,
as she erroneously thought such treatment
degraded her. It was insupportable to
her feelings that any one should know she
had been so grossly insulted by such unequivocal
offers, to make her hateful to
herself, and contemptible in the eyes of her
friends. She had often heard others censured
very illiberally for making disclosures
of this description, and unavoidable
compulsion only would make her
willing to unbosom herself, except to her
mother or sister.

Courtenay was indeed a villain, and she F2 wept F2v 100
wept at the reflection that he had ever
been valued by her: yet with all his
crimes, she wished that his own upbraiding
conscience would be his punishment,
and that none of her relations might imbrue
their hands in his guilty blood. Were
she to make his brutality known, she was
assured her father or brother would avenge
her cause, and the severest sufferings she
would rather encounter than be the innocent
occasion of risking lives so beloved
and precious. Even the laws of her country
would protect her, if he presumed to
molest her any more, as from the barbarous
assault she had personally sustained,
she could with justice assert her life was
threatened. To add to her horror, he had
several times exclaimed, during their last
fatal interview—“Oh, if I had but an opportunity
—if I had but a favourable opportunity
of having you completely in my
power!”
The truth was, his vanity flattered
itself that so tenderly did she love him
that he could never offend beyond forgiveness,giveness, F3r 101
and that she would pardon the
most brutal outrage. But with his understanding,
he should have recollected
that continual ill usage weakens the
strongest attachment, and a constant repetition
of offences exhausts the most affectionate
disposition, and insensibly produces
indifference.

Kamira rubbed Miss Douglas’s bruises
till they were better, and her hand soon
healed, though the marks of the violent
treatment she had suffered remained for a
long time, and the deep black, blue, and
discoloured bruises looked very disagreeable
when her arms were uncovered. The
faithful Indian was always inventing something
to amuse her: when Miss Rose
smiled, she was gay, and if she looked
pensive, her dark countenance assumed the
same serious expression. Kamira recollected
all the dances of her native country, which
she often performed now, to the infinite
entertainment of Rose, especially when
she attempted to teach Dolly to accompanyF3 pany F3v 102
her in the same uncouth movements,
and which she easily acquired under
the tuition of the active Indian. At
another time she would sing American
songs to divert her, and the following
Rose was particularly pleased with:—

“American Song. Where the tall fir-tree lofty waves, Where dark green woods abound, Sweet on its lowly fruitful stalk Are ripe ground-applesA sweet berry. found. The dew-berry in verdant shade Reclines its blushing head, The partridge, cranberry beside, The whortle’s purple bed. Beneath a drooping birch, whose trunk Wild fragrant flower twine, The young, the gallant Esquimaux Did sad in thought recline. He thinks upon his absent love, Who dwells yon groves among, America’s bright dark-ey’d maid, And thus for her he sung:— “More F4r 103 ‘More soft,’ he cried, ‘than curlew’s down, Light as its rapid wing, Like the wood-strawberry thy cheek, When I thy praises sing. For thee I’ll climb the mountain rocks, I’ll pierce the deer so fleet; His spoils, with rich and sable furs, I’ll prostrate at thy feet. The red, the white, the azure bead, Shall bind thy glossy hair; Gay plumage on thy brows shall float, Encircling beauty rare.’ How true he lov’d, how nobly fought, The Indian youths will tell; With his brave blood he seal’d his faith For her he lov’d too well. Soft as the stream which gently glides along, Bright as the silver sun’s transcendant light, As artless as the shepherd’s rustic song Pure as the mountain snow’s unsullied white. Bless’d is that Pow’r to whose superior care So fair a pattern for her sex is given; And doubly bless’d the man ordain’d to share Her love—the just reward of kind indulgent Heaven.” Robinson.

Though the worthless oppress, and the F4 unfeeling F4v 104
unfeeling wound, the gentle, pure, and
guiltless breast, yet will its serenity revive
when the soothing recollection occurs, that
the injuries and insults they have sustained
are unmerited. Miss Douglas reflected
with resignation that the past could not
be prevented, and it would be unreasonable
to grieve for what was now irremediable.
Her health was indeed impaired,
but her mind was strong and tranquil, as
not a shadow of self-reproach disturbed its
peace. She was not necessitated to feign
illness, when Mrs. Fane called, as she really
felt indisposed; otherwise she must
have made some excuse for constantly
wearing a large shawl to hide her discoloured
arms, as long sleeves were not
in fashion then. The appearance of the
injurious treatment she had suffered would
have excited suspicion, and obliged her to
explain to that lady the disagreeable occurrence
that had shaken her delicate constitution.
This she wished to avoid, if
possible; she remembered that she had loved F5r 105
loved him, and that tender memorial inclined
her generously to be anxious his
reputation should not be disgraced.

When Rose was sufficiently recovered
to walk in the garden, she requested Kamira
would prepare to accompany her,
and went up stairs to put on her walking
dress. It was severely cold, but she considered
that the air and exercise would
refresh and strengthen her. They walked
briskly till the snow, which had threatened
a heavy fall, began to descend very
fast, and hurried them towards the house,
on account of Rose, who Kamira feared
might get cold; had the Indian been
alone, she would have preferred remaining
in the garden, as she was delighted to walk
in the snow. A voice exclaimed, as they
were hastening forward—“Stop!” They
turned their heads to look round, at this
exclamation, and imagine the consternation
of Rose, and indignant fury of Kamira,
at beholding Courtenay!

F5 At F5v 106

At the sight of her daring persecutor,
Miss Douglas was so appalled and thunderstruck
that she stood immovable for a
minute, the pale statue of woe. But Kamira
roused her from her stupor—“Fly,
Miss Rose!”
the faithful creature cried—
“fly! he shall not follow you; I will die
first.”

Recalled to recollection, Rose fled at
these words with all the swiftness her
trembling limbs would allow, while Kamira
engaged his attention, and prevented
his approaching her; but unfortunately,
just as she reached her residence,
a loose stone came in contact with
her foot, and her steps being unsteady,
flung her on the ground. The violence
of the fall, the exertion of running in her
weak state, united with the horror of
seeing him, all contributed to deprive her
of sense; and when Kamira hastened to
raise her up, she discovered Rose had fainted.
“My dear mistress,” she exclaimed, wringing F6r 107
wringing her hands, “you be dead—you
be gone where no wicked cruel man torment
you more!”

Courtenay approached, but the Indian
gave him such a violent blow on the stomach
that he staggered; the colour fled
from his face, and he was obliged to support
himself against a tree and take breath.
Yet faulty as he was, he had a great deal
of courage, and a blow could not intimidate
him. When he was recovered, he
advanced again, but in a posture of defence,
at the moment that Kamira had
lifted Rose from the ground.—“Curse
you! begone!”
cried the Indian.

“Be calm, Kamira,” said Courtenay; “I
am not come now to injure your young
lady, but to take leave of her, and beg her
forgiveness for my ill conduct, of which I
seriously repent, and never will offend, or
enter her presence any more after this parting
interview. Let me assist you in carrying
Miss Douglas into the house.”

It was only in defence of those she F6 loved, F6v 108
loved, who demanded her gratitude, and
to revenge them, that Kamira’s passions
were furious and ungovernable—on every
other occasion she was mild and docile:
her understanding was naturally good,
which made her reflect, that although she
possessed great bodily strength, it could
not equal Courtenay’s, and she had no
offensive weapon to defend Miss Douglas
with, which would have put her more on
an equality with him. These reflections
influenced her to desist from opposing him
any more, but she would not permit him
to assist her in bearing the insensible Rose
into the mansion. As the faithful Kamira
bore the inanimate form in her arms to
the library, she reflected with deep regret
that Robin was absent on a message, and
Dolly engaged in a distant part of the
house.

Courtenay had followed them to the library,
where Kamira placed her lovely burthen
on the sofa, and then began weeping
and lamenting over her, sometimes in brokenken F7r 109
English, and at other moments in the
language of her native country. Perceiving
that she did not evince any symptoms
of returning life, the poor Indian was quite
frantic, as she thought her beloved mistress
was really dead, and groaned and shrieked
in the most dreadful manner. While she
thus bemoaned herself, and beat her breast
and forehead, instead of endeavouring by
any application to restore her senses (from
ignorance), Courtenay flew to procure water,
and meeting Dolly, who had heard
Kamira’s shrieks, obtained some hartshorn
also. By the application of the hartshorn
and water, Rose gave evident signs of returning
animation, and gently sighed.
Kamira was now as mad with joy as before
wild with sorrow, and they were
forced to tell her, her mistress would die, if
she was not calm, to make her the least
composed. The large shawl which enveloped
the beautiful form of Rose Douglas
had fallen off, and Courtenay beheld with
contrition and shame the discoloured impressionpression F7v 110
on her white arms, which was the
consequence of his vicious and intemperate
passion.

Kamira, now that her dear mistress was
nearly recovered, grossly insulted and reviled
him, which he supported calmly without
resentment, knowing he deserved it.
Before she was quite sensible of his being
in the room, he retreated into a closet, that
the sudden sight of him might not cause
her to relapse into insensibility. Previously
he entreated Dolly and Kamira to
prepare her for speaking to him, as, whatever
might be the event, he was resolved
to obtain her forgiveness, and would not
depart without it. Kamira could not endure
to look at him—he was abhorrent to
her sight; she thirsted for revenge, and
her eyes flashed fire when she gazed at
him; yet she had the good sense to submit
to what he had proposed, as there was no
alternative. When Rose was happily quite
restored, and had drank a glass of wine,
the Indian mentioned that Courtenay was in F8r 111
in the room, and what he had desired her
to say. An involuntary tremor pervaded
her whole frame, and before she had power
to articulate, Courtenay advanced from his
concealment, and threw himself at her feet.

The melancholy expression of his countenance,
pale with emotion, and the repentance
he evinced, softened her terror.
Resentment, therefore, that was never long
an inmate of her forgiving bosom, entirely
vanished. In a convulsed and faltering
voice he implored her pardon for a brutality
of behaviour that he could never forgive
himself for, which proceeded from
excess of fondness and the dread of losing
her for ever, that had nearly turned his
brain, and in the vehement fury of his
passion he had acted like a madman.

“Curse your heart!” said Kamira, in an
angry tone; “you say you fond Miss
Rose
, you use her so ill, and go marry in
few days, you perfidy man! Me no tell
her, but me know all about you marriage; me F8v 112
me no like make Miss Rose unhappy by
tell her.”

“Do not be in a passion, Kamira,” exclaimed
Miss Douglas; “it afflicts me to
hear you pronounce such improper words
—it is quite swearing. The greatest affection
for me cannot excuse it, and I shall
be seriously displeased if you ever repeat
them.”

Kamira hung down her head abashed,
and replied, she would not offend any
more

“But oh, Courtenay!” continued Rose,
“how can you be so inhuman, so cruel,
and insulting, as to intrude on my quiet
when you are shortly going to be married?
It is unprecedented—it is barbarous.”

Courtenay looked affected, insensible
and audacious as he generally was. He
answered not, but walked to the window,
as if looking at the snow, which continued
to fall in thick and numerous flakes.—
“What am I to do?” he exclaimed, avertinging F9r 113
his face to hide his confusion, “what
am I to do, Rose, when I am so much in
debt? Will you forgive all that has offended
you?”

“I will, on condition that you never enter
here again,”
rejoined Rose: “but I
need not request that favour, for your own
good sense will represent the impropriety
of coming to see me after you are married.”

“You may imagine what I feel,” said
Courtenay, “though I cannot express it.
Can I survive the thought of not seeing
you? No! I must come, if I am married.
I shall remember the happy moments we
have enjoyed together: wherever I go,
whatever I do, your lovely image will be
engraved on my heart.”

“Those hours are past,” replied Rose,
“never to return;” and as she spoke, tears
trickled down her blushing cheeks, like
the dew-drops on the bosom of the eglantine.
“You must fly from me—fly for ever.”

“Oh, Heavens!” he exclaimed, “it is
like separating soul from body.”

“Linger F9v 114

“Linger no longer, Courtenay—let us
part now as friends, and for ever. Here
is my hand and sincere forgiveness—and
take your last farewell.”

“If I am to bid you, dearest object of
my affection, adieu, let me then give you
the only evidence that remains of my love
and esteem—allow me once more to press
those lips I have so frequently had the
happiness to touch, and to gaze at those
beautiful eyes soon to be hid from me for
ever, and that I have often admired for
their expressive tenderness.”

As he pronounced these words, Courtenay
caught her suddenly in his arms, embraced
and kissed her; then, without
daring to look at her again, hurried away
before she had recovered from the emotion
his behaviour caused. He was gone with
the rapidity of lightning, though the snow
fell fast, the wind howled, and showers of
hail clattered against the windows.

An involuntary sigh escaped Rose; she
had once tenderly loved him with all the enthusiasm F10r 115
enthusiasm of an artless ardent mind, and
while she regretted he had proved himself
worthless, she yet felt the trial severe
that gave him to another. To reconcile
herself to her loss, she recalled his endeavours
to make her vicious and to corrupt
her mind, and that to marry a man with
so vile a disposition would be to devote
her life to wretchedness. Rose consoled
herself with the idea that his union with
Miss Manson would protect her from
his importunities, as notwithstanding his
boasting that he would visit her, she considered
that he must value his reputation
as a married man too highly to endanger
it by shewing her attention, more particularly
as his intended wife had great
expectations from a wealthy father, who
would be displeased if he was attentive to
any other woman than his daughter.

These just reflections calmed her perturbed
spirits, and enabled her to support
with more fortitude than she would otherwise
have done the additional tests of virtuetue F10v 116
she had yet to encounter. A few days
after their last meeting, the Fairfield village-bells
rang a loud and merry peal.
This cheerful sound was soon accompanied
by the addition of a band of music,
striking up, at a short distance from Treharne,
the most gay and lively tunes. The
musicians passed through the valley, and
continued to play as they ascended the
hills, which had a very pleasing effect.—
“What can all this merriment and rejoicing
be for?”
said Rose to Kamira.
“Go, if you please, and ask Dolly, for she
generally knows all the news in the neighbourhood,
and even as far as Fairfield.”

Kamira left the room, and was absent a
very long time. At last she returned,
but with an altered countenance, as if she
had received disagreeable intelligence, and
Rose, not observing the alteration, exclaimed
“Have you heard, Kamira, the
occasion of this unexpected gaiety? It is
not usual for us to have music in this retired
spot.”

“Me F11r 117

“Me wish me never heard such ugly
music,”
replied Kamira. “It cuts Esquimaux’s
heart to tell you, but you must
know it. It is because of that big monster,
that villain Courtenay’s wedding,
that they make that noise. You tell me
no curse any body, but though I no
speak, I curse him in my heart.”

Rose turned very pale, and before she
could answer, Dolly came into the room
quite out of breath, so eager was she to
speak.—“Only to think, Miss Rose!”
said she, “I have seen one of lord Morrington’s
footmen, and he had got such a
beauty of a large bridecake, all covered
with sugar, as white as the driven snow,
which he brought from Exeter; and he
says there’s to be two more, still bigger,
to be cut up, and sent to all captain
Courtenay’s
friends. I dares to say as
how you will have a large bit sent you.
I am sure he ought, as he has been here
visiting so much. He was married early
this morning, and it was such a grand wedding! F11v 118
wedding! and there’s to be a great company
to dinner at lord Morrington’s. It is
a fine day for them. ‘Happy is the bride
that the sun shines on,’
as the saying is.”

Dolly might have talked for ever without
any interruption from Miss Douglas,
who was too much overcome with painful
emotion to converse. Though she was
prepared for this event, she did not meet
it with the tranquillity she had hoped.
The shock, though softened, was severe.
Wicked as he was, she had once truly loved
him, as an amiable character, for his vices
were veiled from her. Successful in his
villany, fortune now smiled on him, and
overwhelmed her with its frowns. Even
her sister, to whom she could have confided
her feelings, and been consoled by
her, was absent and unhappy, as every
letter she received informed her; and in
one of them she appeared so discontented
with her present situation, that she advised
Rose never to marry. The reflection,
that she did not deserve the acrid draught F12r 119
draught Courtenay had made her drink
alone sweetened its bitterness. The account
of his marriage, though expected,
renewed all the cruel sensations she had
banished, and, agonized, she knelt down
and prayed to Heaven to be enabled to
sustain, with more calmness, the anguish
that oppressed her.

Her mind became gradually serene after
this fervid and pious address to the
supreme and beneficent Being, who, if
they are deserted by every earthly friend,
never forsakes the victims of sorrow that
confide in him. The gloom that depressed
Rose dispersed: she recollected that her
sorrows were unmixed with guilt, and
though now dejected and unhappy, they
would be transient, because her conscience
was clear—while it remained unspotted,
she could endure adversity and injustice
with courage and resignation. A sigh
sometimes heaved her pure bosom, and a
tear would fall; yet she exerted herself to
support her calamities with patience and humility. F12v 120
humility. The keenest disappointments
are soothed and mitigated by patience,
which enables us to cheerfully submit to
our misfortunes, and by resignation lessens
them. To the benevolent Creator
of the universe she daily addressed her
prayers, who watches over us with parental
care, and causes every turbulent emotion
to cease. Thus, she regained her natural
vivacity and contentment, and supporting
with composure this difficult trial,
was prepared for every vicissitude she
might experience. Constant employment
likewise assisted to divert her thoughts
from pensive inquietude.

A few days after Courtenay’s nuptials
had taken place, Rose had received a letter
from, Louise de Rimont, saying she
had not been to visit her and her sister,
as it would have pained her to impart the
news of the approaching marriage. She
was undecided how to act, and feared, if
she came, and concealed the painful circumstances,
they might accuse her of duplicity;plicity; G1r 121
but now that the event must be
known to them, she was anxious to visit
Treharne, as they were to quit the Castle
in a few days; but her ladyship, who had
been very ill-humoured ever since Courtenay’s
wedding, would not allow her to
come, to her great chagrin.—“However,”
continued Louise, “one consoling idea
reconciles me to quitting the country
without seeing you, which is, that we are
to return to Morrington very early in the
spring, when I hope to meet you very
often. The general and Mrs. Douglas
will, I flatter myself, be returned by that
time, and Mrs. Douglas is so great a favourite
of her ladyship’s, that she can
easily persuade her to let us frequently
see each other.”

Rose directly answered this letter, and
regretted in her epistle that she had not
seen her friend before her departure. She
was concerned that Louise had staid
away, that she might not witness her sufferings
at the intelligence of the union Vol. II. G that G1v 122
that was to be celebrated at the Castle.
The consciousness that she had not merited
Courtenay’s deception and perfidiousness
had strengthened her to support his base
desertion with more fortitude than she
imagined she possessed. But, on this
heart-wounding subject, she should in future
be for ever silent, and requested
Louise would never again mention his
name to her. Rose added, that she should
now look eagerly forward to spring, as it
was to restore her to her agreeable society.

As Rose was writing, she reflected on
the consolations friendship offered, and
how soothing was its balm. Our deepest
sorrows seem to lose their sting when
communicated to a faithful friend.

Peace was once more an inmate at Treharne,
and tranquillity reigned undisturbed.
Mrs. Fane continued her kind
and friendly visits, which were always
pleasing to Miss Douglas, who revered and
esteemed her. This lady had made various
inquiries respecting colonel Guilford, but G2r 123
but had not yet been able to obtain any
satisfactory information relative to him or
his connexions.

Jane had lately made her sister one
visit, and sympathized in all the vexations
that afflicted her, and from which
she was at present recovered. To visit
her in return, Mrs. Guilford did not solicit
her sister, as she confessed she had
discovered another trait of an unpleasant
nature in her husband’s character, which
was extreme parsimony in every thing
that related to those who lived with him,
though often extravagant in what contributed
to his gratification solely. Visitors
of any description at his house he did not
approve, as he considered them too expensive.
Jane looked melancholy, and apparently
mournfully, repented the step she
had taken in estranging herself from her
paternal mansion. To see her sighing for
a home she once contemned and ridiculed,
assisted to make Rose resigned to her lot, G2 and G2v 124
and never to repine at whatever might
be destined for her to endure.

Miss Herbert, who had been at Bath,
was now returned. She told Rose that
she thought the town magnificently handsome,
and the country around beautiful.
Altogether she liked the place very much,
and if place alone was necessary to happiness,
she considered it would be an enchanting
residence; but she confessed she did not
like any large town but London, nor did she
think the air pure. Miss Herbert added,
that she was with her father at a boarding-house,
which was quite new and pleasant
to her, as the boarders only met at
dinner, and she was entertained beyond
expression. Before she left Bath, their
number was reduced to a Scotch doctor,
with a cunning face and excellent temper,
and his wife, a fat, broad, comic, good-natured
woman. Their droll stories almost
killed her with laughing, and she thought
Rose would be much amused with the
novelty of a boarding-house.

Rose G3r 125

Rose said she should like it of all things,
and Miss Herbert observed, that when
she went to Bath again she would ask
the general and Mrs. Douglas to allow
Rose to accompany her. This proposal
was very pleasing and flattering, and she
expressed her gratitude to Mary Herbert
for her kind intention. Mary likewise
brought intelligence of the departure of
the Morrington family for the metropolis.
She did not express any surprise at Jane’s
absence, as there was nothing uncommon
in her going on a visit; yet she lamented
the dulness her friend Rose must feel at
being left alone in that great house.

Rose particularly admired, in such a
lovely girl as Mary Herbert, her indifference
to her own beauty. She had a tame
pigeon, of which she was exceedingly
fond, and was caressing it one day, as she
stood with Miss Douglas on the mount
in the garden at Treharne, from whence
they could be seen by any one passing
by. Some ladies and gentlemen on horsebackG3 back G3v 126
rode near at that instant, and, attracted
by the striking loveliness of Mary,
exclaimed—“What a pretty creature!”
for she looked the emblem of innoncence
with the white pigeon.

Instead of thinking it was herself that
was the object of admiration, as many
vain persons would have done, she supposed
it was a compliment to her favourite,
and turning with an animated face
to Rose, that made her beauty more dazzling,
said, in a voice of delight—“You
see how my pigeon is admired.”

This unaffected unconsciousness of her
charms quite pleased Miss Douglas, and
made her appear, in her opinion, still more
beautiful, as, although she knew she was
handsome, she was indifferent about it,
and placed no value on her personal attractions.

Rose had one unspeakable source of
satisfaction, as every letter she received
from Scotland informed her of the improved
health of both her parents. The air G4r 127
air was so pure, though cold, at the residence
of sir James Douglas, that, notwithstanding
the anxiety Mrs. Douglas
suffered at being separated from her children,
her health was much amended.

Sir James continued in the same state,
but was grown very fond of his brother, to
whom he had already made several handsome
presents. He talked, if he recovered,
of having his nieces on a visit to Towie
Craigs
, as well as his brother and wife.

Mrs. Douglas observed, that this dreary
habitation would then become most cheerful
to her. If enlivened by the presence
of the dear objects of her maternal affection,
it was of little consequence to her
where she lived, while those she loved
were with her.

The pleasure of seeing Mary Herbert
was, one morning when she called, seriously
damped by hearing she was going
to London, and came then to take leave
of her friend Rose. To console her for
the deprivation of her society, she promisedG4 mised G4v 128
to write frequently, and Rose, who
was very partial to painting likenesses
and drawing, took a sketch of her, and
drew Mary, in the character of Innocence,
with a lamb. The resemblance was striking,
and the picture looked so lovely and
artless, that they were both pleased with
it.—“I hope, my loved Mary,” said Rose,
“that you will ever retain that interesting
artlessness of disposition I so much admire.
I tremble for fear the world should
alter it, as you are now going to be introduced,
for the first time, into its intoxicating
vortex of pleasures. You smile at
my apprehension of danger, but it is my
mother who has infused this dread into
my mind. She has told me, that she has
often known characters, who appeared
perfectly amiable, quite corrupted by mixing
in society, where, amidst a variety of
beings, an unamiable one has gained an
improper influence over the artless disposition
unacquainted with mankind, and
caused them to imbibe their sentiments, till G5r 129
till the original character was lost and
could not be traced.”

“They must have little stability who
can alter thus,”
replied Mary: “but I shall
never change—I shall always love you
with the truest affection.”

“It would make me very miserable if
you did forget me,”
said Rose, “as constancy
in every thing is my motto. I am
not easily captivated, but when once I
take a liking to a person, I am attached to
them for ever, unless they use me very
ill indeed. But I am older than you, and
my character is therefore more fixed.”

“Trust to my regard,” Mary rejoined;
and with an affectionate embrace they
parted.

G5 Chap- G5v 130

Chapter IV.

“But drops of curdl’d gore reveal’d His doom, by secret murder seal’d.” V.

Spring now returned with all its verdant
charms, and the health and spirits of
Rose appeared to revive with this delightful
season. Though she saw but few
people, yet all she did see congratulated
her on her improved looks. Mrs. Fane
felt infinite satisfaction at beholding her
again blooming with the brilliant lustre
of beauty that used to distinguish her, before
affliction robbed her cheek of its
roseate tint. All the early flowers disclosed
their gay blossoms, and the fragrant
hawthorn perfumed the air with its
snowy bloom. Many trees and shrubs
were attired in their robes of green; and
the Siberian crab, the peach, almond, and apple-tree G6r 131
apple-tree, put forth their red, white, and
pink blossoms.

Rose watched the industrious bee, as
it sipped the honeyed sweetness from the
odoriferous blooming plants, and listened
to their drowsy hum as they frolicked
from flower to flower with busy wing.

The mild warmth in the middle of the
day allowed her to visit her hermitage,
and remain there a short time, while she
tied up nosegays to diffuse fragrance, and
ornament the drawing-room and library.

In the hermitage she likewise kept
some greenhouse plants, as the situation
was warm and sheltered; and in the grove
near it she was entertained by the warbling
of various tuneful birds, who sung
harmoniously among the trees. The
cheerful note of the cuckoo often broke
on the ear, and told that summer was approaching.

Since the loss of her sister and companion,
Rose had made Kamira sleep constantlyG6 stantly G6v 132
in her apartment, where they had
been undisturbed, till one night soon after
she received her mother’s last letter. It
was midnight, and the gloomy stillness that
always reigns then was interrupted by
the same loud noises and confused voices
that had before banished rest. The heavy
trampling of horses as formerly was also
heard; but the sound soon died away.
Kamira was very much alarmed, but her
mistress was perfectly tranquil. Since she
had last been disturbed by these nocturnal
visitors, Rose had experienced so much
real sorrow, that she could not think of
making imaginary evils, as nothing seriously
dangerous or disagreeable had been
the consequence of the noises that molested
them. However, she exerted herself
to calm the terrors that overwhelmed the
Indian, who said, that sometimes when
she passed near the cellars in the evening,
at the bottom of the tower where Mr.
Eustace
was concealed, she heard strange and G7r 133
and frightful sounds. It was only from
the fear of making her young lady uneasy,
that she had not mentioned it till now.

“Do not agitate yourself, Kamira,” said
Miss Douglas; “you see how composed
I am. To-morrow we will explore and
examine the cellars: I am angry with myself
for not having thought of it before,
and then all this mystery would be explained.
In my opinion, it is caused by
water-rats, who are very numerous in the
lower part of the house; Robin and Dolly
have informed me that they walk quite
tamely about the kitchen; it is not surprising,
when you recollect that we are close
to the river, and have a moat on one side.”

“If there be great many rats,” replied
Kamira, “we hunt them with Ponto, for
he kills rats and vermin of all kinds; it will
be a good chase—make sport; you like to
see it, Miss Rose; me set him on.”

“Indeed I do not wish to be of your rat-
hunting party; but Robin, you, and Dolly, may G7v 134
may amuse yourselves, should we discover
a great many, if you like.”

Delighted with this permission, Kamira
fell fast asleep; Rose soon followed her
example, and her slumbers were unruffled
as her spotless soul was serene.

From the period of Courtenay’s marriage,
her mind had imperceptibly regained its
composure. The certainty of one’s fate,
however heartrending, is better than being
in a state of suspense: when every thing
is decided and cannot be revoked, the good
and patient disposition will slowly recover
its energy. Had he been estimable, the
recollection of his worth would have added
poignancy to the pang of losing him;
but now that she remembered his treachery,
his cruelty, the memory of his fascinating
manners faded away, and only the recollection
of his vices remained. It is true, he
had expressed contrition for his savage behaviour,
and she had forgiven him; yet it
was impossible for her to forget such barbarousbarous G8r 135
usage, and she felt grateful that she
had escaped the most severe of all misfortunes,
a worthless husband. It was happiness
to reflect that she was no longer subject
to his sudden intrusion and insults,
whenever the whim seized him to visit
her: protected by his marriage from being
the object of his caprice, all her native
cheerfulness was restored, and her mind recovered
its elasticity.

When night again arrived, which was
the time appointed by Rose for visiting
the cellars, Kamira eagerly reminded her
of her promise. Miss Douglas told the Indian
to procure a lanthorn, and place a candle
in it, as the damp of the unexplored
vaults might extinguish the light. Kamira
soon returned with the lanthorn, and
they proceeded to that part of the building
Eustace had inhabited. They descended
some old broken stone steps near the tower,
at the bottom of which was a worm-eaten
wooden door. This had never been opened
since the general’s residence at Treharne Hall, G8v 136
Hall
, as they made use of some large convenient
cellars, situated on the opposite
side of the mansion, near the kitchens.
Rose lifted a rusty latch, and pushing it
with her utmost strength, the door gave
way, and they entered a cellar, filled with
ancient implements and weapons of war;
two suits of armour, corroded with rust,
lay on the ground, near ensigns-armorial
of the Treharne family; and in one corner,
in a heap, were deposited broken swords,
old guns, and pikes.

“They appeared formerly to think more
of fighting than drinking, by the contents
of this cellar,”
observed Rose, “as here are
neither casks, barrels, or bottles, to hold
liquor.”

“Me suppose we shall see them further
on,”
replied Kamira, “for there is a low
door opposite.”

They went forward, and attempted to
unclose it; but it resisted their efforts. Kamira
now exerted every nerve to succeed,
and pushing forcibly against it, assisted by Rose, G9r 137
Rose, it fell off its hinges to the floor with
a tremendous crash. They were quite
startled, and breathless with the exertion
for some minutes. On examining the
door, they discovered that it had been
propped behind with some heavy lumber,
being quite worn off its hinges, and without
a fastening. This vault was small, and
empty of every thing except a sailor’s
jacket, quite new, and a straw hat, such as
seamen wear.

“I am quite surprised,” exclaimed Rose,
“at finding the door secured withinside,
and a modern jacket and hat lying on
the ground; it is very mysterious: but let
us go on, if we can discover any method
of proceeding, though I perceive no outlet
in this place.”

Kamira looked cautiously round, and
being very quicksighted, advanced to some
rubbish piled up, and removing it hastily,
a trapdoor met their view. They raised
it with ease, and discovered half-a-dozen
stairs, which they stepped down, and found they G9v 138
they conducted to a long narrow passage,
which bore evident traces of people having
passed lately through, from several trifles
dropped by the way. It was so low in
several places, that they were obliged to
creep on their hands and knees. They
conjectured that it extended very far, as
they were quite fatigued when they reached
the end, and would not have continued
to advanced, had not a glimmering light at
the extremity tempted them to go on.

The passage likewise grew gradually
wider as they approached the latter part,
allowed them to walk upright, till they
gained a door half open. They peeped
through, as it was ajar, and to their inexpressible
astonishment beheld a solid marble
table, on which a lamp was placed, that
disclosed to their amazed sight a large cavern,
the extent of which the faint light
of the lamp did not permit them to see.
All was still and silent as the deep recesses
of a tomb; and as they neither saw or
heard the footstep or voice of a living creature, G10r 139
creature, curiosity enticed them to go forward,
and trembling they entered the cavern.
The sides and top of this cave appeared
composed of rock and grey slate;
part of it was covered with short fine moss,
and seemed very dry; yet that side where
the table stood, and was evidently inhabited,
was lined with matting of a very
thick texture. In one corner was a screen,
which they removed, and found it concealed
a small bedchamber, scooped out
of the rock, and furnished with every comfort,
as if a person of a superior description
slept in it.

In a distant part of the cave they observed
three doors, which they were preparing
to unclose one after the other, when
a loud whistle, followed by the discharge
of a gun very near, terrified them so much,
that they instantly desisted, and retreated
to the passage. They gently shut the
door they had found open after them, and
returned back much quicker than they
advanced towards the cave. Overcome with G10v 140
with terror, they darted through the two
cellars, rather than walked, and after fastening
the door at the bottom of the stairs
as well as they could, they eagerly ascended
the broken staircase, and felt relieved
from the fear that agonized them. Their
terrors were softened, yet they could not
feel in perfect security, as they were convinced
that the cavern which communicated
with Treharne Hall was inhabited.
It was consequently a very alarming consideration,
that whoever lived in it had it
in their power to enter the mansion whenever
they judged proper.

“The noises we have heard frequently,”
said Rose to the Indian, “are now explained.
As the persons who have caused
these sounds do not commit any robbery,
or injure us in the most trifling degree, I
am convinced it is intended to inspire us
with the idea of the house being haunted,
that every suspicion may be lulled,
though it is impossible to guess what may
be the motives for such behaviour.”

“You G11r 141

“You should have the cellar-door, Miss
Rose
, well barricaded up by a carpenter
directly, and then the people in the cavern
cannot come in when it pleases them.”

“You shall tell Robin to go for one
early to-morrow morning, which will place
us more in security from intrusion. I
wish my father and mother were returned,
that I might consult with them in
what manner to act for the best. Perhaps
there may be some secret relating to the
cavern, connected with our family, of
which I am ignorant. At all events, I
think it will be most prudent to conceal
from Robin and Dolly the discovery we
have made, as should they be frightened
at hearing that the subterraneous vaults
have inhabitants, they may not like to remain
with us, and it will be difficult to obtain
two servants equally good, and on
whose fidelity I could rely; nor should I
have courage to remain with only you in
this lonely building.”

Kamira acquiesced, as she was generally of G11v 142
of the same opinion as Miss Douglas.
Robin was dispatched by the first dawn of
morning for a carpenter, and by the following
night the cellar-door was strongly
secured, in such a manner as must take
many hours to force an entrance by that
inlet. Rose and Kamira felt quite happy
at having shut out their nightly intruders,
as whoever it was that molested them
could not now easily come into the house.
They invented a plausible excuse to Robin
and Dolly, for having the cellar-door
mended and fastened up, and it was not
difficult to impose on them, as they were
simplicity itself.

A few days after they had discovered
the cavern, Rose walked with Kamira to
the wood, where she had once met Jane
since her marriage. A profusion of wild
flowers scented the vernal gale, and the
embowering trees sheltered them from the
ardent beams of the sun. Many birds
were busily engaged constructing their
nests, while others, who had completed theirs G12r 143
theirs a long time, and deposited their eggs,
were seated on them, to hatch their little
progeny. Rose hoped that the boys would
not disturb those harmless birds, who did
a great deal of good, by feeding on the
insects. However, Kamira was quite
childish, for she would have pillaged all the
nests they met with for the sake of the eggs,
having been accustomed in America to go
out a bird-nesting; and it was with great
difficulty Rose could make her desist.

Followed by Kamira, she had just reached
the most distant and retired part of the
wood, where the underwood was very
thick on each side the path, when they
found themselves surrounded by a party
of ill-looking men, who roughly seized hold
of them. They both shrieked, till a pistol
was presented by one of the ruffians, who
said, if they screamed again, or spoke, he
would shoot them instantly dead. Rose
immediately desired Kamira to be silent,
and not attempt resistance, as it would answer
no purpose. Two men were stationeded G12v 144
on each side of them, and rather dragged
than led them to the border of Treharne
wood. Here the wicket-gate that
conducted to the road was ready opened,
and a shabby old coach with two horses
waiting outside the wood, with the blinds
all drawn up.

The men lifted them into the carriage,
and then got in after, and thus were they
completely secured, with two ruffians to
guard them on either side. Kamira gazed
anxiously at her mistress, who was opposite,
and, unable any longer to resist speaking,
turned to the most gentle-looking of
the men, and exclaimed—“Why you take
us away? women do no harm; we no hurt
you; we give you great deal money you
let us go: wontwon’t you, Miss Rose? you give
them money they no make us prisoner?”

“Hold your jaw,” said one of the most
ferocious of the ruffians, whose thick, black,
bushy eyebrows hung over his eyes, as
the other did not answer—“D―n you!
none of your outlandish palaver! neither you H1r 145
you nor your mistress will come over us
with your gibberish.”

Poor Kamira, accustomed now for many
years to the voice of kindness only, was
petrified, and spoke no more. The horses
went very fast, and, from the time they
were travelling, Rose supposed, as the coach
stopped, they had journeyed three or four
miles. When the door of the carriage was
opened, her surprise was great at finding
they were on the sea-beach. Seaweeds
were scattered over the sand, thrown up
by the foaming billows, and it was apparently
a lonely desolate spot. The men
did not allow her time to look about; but
taking her from the coach, hurried her
along between them as before, till they arrived
at an old ruinous-looking house, built
under a rock, at a short distance from the
dreary shore.

As they hastened forward with her, Miss
Douglas
looked back to see if Kamira was
following with the other ruffians, but perceived
no appearance of her or the men, Vol. II. H and H1v 146
and concluded she was detained in the
coach. On entering the ruinous house,
they dragged her hastily up stairs to the
first floor, pushed her into a back-room,
and then locked her in. This room was
lighted by a sky-light, and as she could not
discern any thing, she was left to ruminate
uninterruptedly on what could be the
cause of her being carried off with her servant
in this extraordinary manner.

Had Kamira been suffered to accompany
her, she would have felt less unhappy;
but deprived of her company, she was almost
distracted, fearful of any severe calamity
happening to her faithful and affectionate
attendant, who she knew would
be as miserable on her account.

In this melancholy place, Rose remained
an hour, unable to refrain from weeping,
more from the apprehension of losing her
dear Indian, than from her own misfortunes,
when a gentle footstep coming up
the stairs attracted her attention. The
door soon after was unlocked, and a decent- looking H2r 147
looking woman, though very dirty, entered,
and dropped a respectful curtsey.
Nervous and intimidated, from the terror
she had encountered, Rose started, and
uttered an exclamation of fear, when the
woman came in.

“Don’t be scared, Miss,” said she,
“though I can’t wonder at your being so
timbersome in this dull room. But I’ve
come to put you where you will na be
so dismal;”
and with these words she conducted
her into a front room with a bed
in it, that faced the sea.

As the woman seemed very talkative,
Rose ventured to ask if she had seen any
thing of a young woman, her servant?

The woman answered very sharply, that
she knew nothing of such a young woman,
and going directly out of the room,
shut the door violently, and locked it.

Rose perceived she had committed an
error in questioning her, who was certainly
an accomplice with whoever confined
her. The woman’s countenance was H2 the H2v 148
the most expressive of deceit she had
ever noticed. Though not an old woman,
it was covered with wrinkles, and quite
puckered up about the eyes when she
smiled, which gave her a very deceitful
look. Rose conjectured, that since she
was good-natured and respectful on other
subjects, this cross-grained behaviour was
assumed, to inform her it would be useless
to ask questions, and to desist in future.

The sun glittered on the blue-green
waves, and she descried a vessel in the
offing, from which a boat was sent, and
was advancing to the shore. Fishermen’s
nets were spread out to dry on the grass
near the house, which made her suspect
that her present habitation was the residence
of fishermen. The beach seemed a
very good one for walking, and the sea,
opening into the land, formed a commodious
sheltered bay. At each extremity
of the beach, lofty cliffs and rocks upreared
their craggy heads. The white seagullgull H3r 149
hovered over the jutting cliffs and
crags, and flew backwards and forwards
with airy wing across the swelling billows.

When the boat she had seen quitting
the vessel approached the shore, the men
in it soon after landed, and Rose watched
them till they drew near the ruinous
house and entered it. Among them she
observed the four ruffians who had carried
her and Kamira off. The quietness
that prevailed throughout this lonesome
abode was now vanished. An hour elapsed,
and she concluded they had been
feasting and drinking, as their voices
were raised to the highest point. The
brandy and juniper-berry now circulated
through their veins, and seemed very
operative, as they laughed aloud, and
sung, or rather roared out, the most noisy
songs.

About six o’clock the woman again
visited her, and appeared as if her good-
humour had also been heightened by a H3 cheerful H3v 150
cheerful glass. With a low curtsey she
said—“If it is agreeable, Miss, I will
come and drink a cup of tea with you, as
you must want some refreshment all these
hours. I seldom drinks tea so late, but
I have been very busy to-day, as our men
have been fishing all this blessed day at
t’other part of the coast, and as they
wanted their dinner, I’ve been forced to
cook it. I keeps no sarvant now. I have
had a great many, but they all turned
out so bad that I had rather do the work
myself. When my husband, master Naylor,
is at home, then he will tend and help
me a bit, when he is in the humour for
it. I always calls him master Naylor,
because we’ve two prentice-boys to larn
to be fishermen, and if I called him by
his Christian name, John, they would be
calling him so too, and that would not be
respectful; so he always calls me Mrs.
Naylor
, and I always calls him master
Naylor
. There’s nothing like pretty behaviour.”

“You H4r 151

“You behave very properly,” replied
Miss Douglas, who perceived she was one
of those kind of women who would talk
for ever of herself, and encouraged her
therefore to go on, as she was too much
out of spirits to converse with any one,
even if they were very agreeable.

“I wish I had never been married,”
continued Mrs. Naylor, as she poured out
the tea. “I had my fortune told when I
was single, and the fortuneteller said I
was to marry a rich gentleman, but, instead
of that, I met with this one. I was
happier in sarvice, when I lived with a
good lady, a clargyman’s wife, who was
so fond of me. She always told me to
take care of my teeth, for I had very good
teeth then.”

“You have a fine set now,” replied
Rose, who could not help thinking what
a burlesque it was on vanity to hear this
dirty fishwoman talking of herself with
egregious conceit. She could not imagine H4 how H4v 152
how any sensible person was ever so
weak as to be vain, when this ridiculous
woman, without any pretension, and not
even clean, entertained such a favourable
opinion of herself.

“Then you do say I have good teeth
now, Miss?”
rejoined Mrs. Naylor, with a
delighted voice (for she wished them all
the time to be praised); “but I am so hurt,
being afraid I shall lose one soon. I had
a nice rosy colour too once, and my mistress
used to tell me to be careful of the
men. My master, though she was such
a good lady, went astray with others, and
would with me, but I said to him—‘No,
no, sir, my mistress is too good a lady
for me to listen to you; I love her too
well for that.’”

“I admire your principles,” observed
Miss Douglas, “and you were very right
not to betray a good mistress.”

“Ah, Miss, I was so clean and neat
then! I did not carry about fish, as I often do H5r 153
do now and work hard. I was so particular
then, I had even my Sunday garters
and Sunday pins.”

At this speech, Rose mentally said—
“You are much altered since that time.”

Again Mrs. Naylor began the subject
of her teeth.—“I take great pains with
them, Miss; I clean my teeth with soot
and all kinds of things, and wash myself
thoroughly two or three times in the
course of the summer with scented soap,
such as ladies use, and rose-water I distil
myself.”

Rose was astonished to hear a woman,
most uncommonly dirty, and in a station
exceedingly inferior, boast of using perfumed
soap, when she seemed even niggardly
of the commonest and cheapest.
She was convinced, from this circumstance,
she did not speak a word of truth,
and detected her very shortly in many
other falsehoods, which gave her a vile
opinion of her.

When tea was over, Mrs. Naylor appearedH5 peared H5v 154
to quit her guest with reluctance,
never having before met with any one
who listened so patiently to the ebullition
of her vanity. When she was gone
down stairs, Rose tried to open the window,
thinking, when it was quite dark, to
escape, when all was hushed at midnight,
that way; but, to her disappointment, it
was strongly nailed down. She remarked
that the house became as quiet after dark
as before, and conjectured that the men
were gone out.

The wind now began to howl loudly,
the night was obscure, and the melancholy
roaring of the waves, dashing against the
shore, diffused the deepest gloom, while
the mournful scream of the sea-birds inspired
pensive ideas, and seemed to presage
horrible events. Rain poured down
in torrents, and the blast blew so strong
and loud, that Rose lamented the fate of
the poor seamen who were doomed to encounter
the pitiless storm. About eleven
o’clock, when the tempest raged with redoubleddoubled H6r 155
fury, she heard signal guns fired,
as if some ship was in distress, and likely
to be wrecked, as from the sound of the
fire-arms the vessel was apparently at a
short distance from the bay.

Two hours passed away, and at near
one o’clock a great bustle and confusion
appeared to take place in the house, and
she heard many people running up and
down stairs. Soon after, Mrs. Naylor
came in with clean sheets to put on the
bed, saying—“Bless your dear soul, Miss!
I have been so busy that I quite forgot
you till now, begging your pardon.”

Rose perceived instantly that she was
very much intoxicated, and begged her
not to trouble herself to make the bed, as
she should only lie down outside, without
undressing. In fact, she had an invincible
repugnance to repose in such a
dirty uncomfortable place, and did not,
till quite exhausted, recline on it.

Worn out with anxiety, she fell fast
asleep, and slept soundly till it was very H6 late H6v 156
late in the morning, and Mrs. Naylor entered
with breakfast. She made many
apologies for not coming before, being occupied
with getting master Naylor’s and
the men’s breakfasts, who were gone out
to fish with their nets and fishing-tackle.

“It has been a stormy night,” said
Rose; “I am afraid, Mrs. Naylor, some
ships have been wrecked, and many poor
creatures have suffered—either lost their
lives or their property.”

“We call shipwrecks our harvest,” replied
Mrs. Naylor: “it is an ill wind that
blows nobody good. We get many good
things by them,”
and she winked her eye
as she spoke, adding—“the sea throws
up many valuable articles.”

Rose was horror-struck, but she said no
more, from directly suspecting that Mrs.
Naylor
and her husband were those description
of people that plunder wrecks,
and steal the property of the unfortunate
beings the waves have spared. Even the
lives of those who were shipwrecked, if they H7r 157
they had riches, were often sacrificed by
these miscreants for the sake of their money
or jewels, and buried in the sand, as
she had frequently heard related.

The fury of the tempest was abated,
but the weather continued stormy. Sometimes
the waves swelled mountains high,
and roughly beat against the shore, and
dashing to a prodigious height among the
rocks, spread their white foam around in
snowy showers. Rose enjoyed this dismal
scene; it was more in unison with
her wounded mind than a glaring sunshine,
that, while it cheered the face of
nature, would have appeared to mock her
woes. Several vessels she perceived at a
distance seemed to be struggling with the
agitated green billows, and suggested to
her feeling heart how many dangers the
intrepid sailor has to encounter, consigned
frequently, after all his sufferings, to a
premature and watery grave.

Mrs. Naylor returned for the tea-things,
and began talking immediately of her shape, H7v 158
shape, saying she wished she was as good
a figure as Miss Douglas, on purpose that
she might praise the symmetry of her
form. She was actually very well shaped,
had not the slovenliness of her appearance
disguised her; and Rose pretended to admire
her figure as the best she had ever
seen, complimenting her at the same time
so highly, that with all her cunning she
was quite thrown off her guard. Rose
would not have flattered her vanity, had
she not been in her power, for she abhorred
the shadow of deceit; but on such occasion,
when she expected, by praising her,
to find means of escaping, she hoped it was
excusable.

Intoxicated with the incense of flattery,
Mrs. Naylor was reluctant to quit her; she
was never tired of hearing herself complimented,
nor of being the subject of her
own conversation. Inadvertently, as they
were conversing, she disclosed that they
were alone together in the house, and soon
after quitted the room with the tea-tray. Giddy H8r 159
Giddy with the adulation she had received,
that flattered her voracious self-love, Mrs.
Naylor
neglected to lock the door after
her. Rose observed this, but waited a
quarter of an hour to see if she recollected
the circumstance. Finding she did not
remember the omission, she considered
that this would be an excellent opportunity
to try to escape. Rose put on her
bonnet and shawl, and gently opening the
door, crept down the stairs as softly as possible.
She moved with so much gentleness,
that Mrs. Naylor did not hear her,
though she was standing at the front-door
that led to the beach, with her back towards
her.

There was no escape that way, but perceiving
another door open on the side,
Rose stole out, and found herself in a long
narrow passage between two rocks, and a
large stone rolled at the end. Here she
perceived no chance of getting out of danger,
and stood ruminated what she should do, H8v 160
do, when suddenly she saw the great stone
move, and the men who had waylaid and
taken her from the wood advanced from
behind it.—“Ho! ho!” one of these men
directly called out—“so you want to run
away, I suppose? We will make you rest
quiet, so come with us;”
and with these
words they dragged her through a door
that was behind the stone, which was raised
by a mechanical power, though a great
weight, yet not so heavy as it appeared.

Rose made no opposition, and they
ceased to force her along, while three of
them walked first, whom she followed, and
one walked behind her. They proceeded
onwards among dismal hollow places and
dreary dens, only lighted by fissures in the
rocks, till they reached an opening which
conducted to a cavern, resembling the subterraneous
cave near Treharne.

Here she beheld a lady and gentleman
seated, in earnest discourse. The lady
turned round at the noise of their entrance, frowned, H9r 161
frowned, and looking ferociously at the
men, exclaimed—“Why did you bring
her to this place?”

The ruffians replied, in a grumbling tone
of voice, that she was going to escape, and
knowing no other secret habitation where
she would be in security till she was fetched,
had conducted her to the cavern—“But
by good luck,”
they continued, “she will
be off for good to-night, and we shall have
no more to do with her skittish ladyship.”

“T’other’s safe enough,” cried one of
them, grinning.

Rose shuddered at this last speech, as
she thought her poor Kamira had resisted
and been killed. Nearly fainting at the
idea, she glanced at that moment at the
lady, as she leaned against the side of the
cavern, and discovered, to her extreme
astonishment, that this lady was her old
acquaintance, Mrs. Pryce. This discovery
at first delighted her, as seeing any one
she knew, however worthless and disagreeable,
revived hope, and might lead, she flattered H9v 162
flattered herself, ultimately to her release
from the hands of these terrific ruffians.
But these pleasing expectations vanished,
when she reflected on her familiarity with
such low wicked men. However, though
she looked more forbidding and morose
than she used to do, Rose summoned courage
to address this woman, and asked her
to have the goodness to explain why she
had been carried off and confined.

“You will know to-night,” replied Mrs.
Price
, with a diabolical smile, “and you
must bridle your curiosity till then. I do
not wish to have any thing to say to you:
your sister has often told me,”
added this
woman, with a demoniac expression of
countenance, “that I was not a favourite
of yours; you cannot hope, therefore, assistance
from a person you disliked, and I
assure you there is no love lost between
us.”

Rose made no answer, as she perceived
she was inflexible; and turning to the
gentleman, attempted to soften him. She entreated H10r 163
entreated in the most moving accents that
he would restore her to liberty, and while
she was addressing him, the ruffians retired.
A cold shivering apparently shook
his frame while she was speaking, his arms
were folded, and he then pulled his large
hat over his face, to shade it more effectually,
that she might not clearly discern
his features.

After a silence of a moment, he waved
his hand for her to be gone, in a manner
expressive of disapprobation. Rose could
only distinguish, from the lamp burning
in the cavern, that he was fair, and something
in the lower part of his face seemed
familiar to her. He now rose from his
seat, and motioning to his companion, they
both left her. Rose remarked that he was
very tall, and limped as he walked; a loose
cloak enwrapped his majestic figure, and
though he did not listen to her with commiseration,
there was something in his
appearance that interested her against her
better judgment. She gazed after him, and H10v 164
and noticed that before he quitted the cavern,
he turned round to look at her again.

Rose remained till evening without refreshment
in this dismal cavern; she had
tried the doors at each outlet, and found
them strongly fastened, and could with
difficulty avoid giving way to despair.
Another tempest, she imagined, had arisen,
as the wind whistled through the clefts
and chasms in the rocks, and she heard
peals of thunder loud and awfully resounding
with appalling crash. Nearly
sinking into despondency, she trembled
for fear the lightning should split the rocks
that the cavern was hewn out of, and, buried
in the ruins, her fate become for ever
unknown to her beloved relations—no
parent’s tear bedew her humble grave, or
affectionate brother mourn a sister that
tenderly loved him. She might even, she
reflected, innocent as she was, be condemned,
and her flight considered as voluntary.
While these reflections occupied
her mind, anxiety and want of food for so many H11r 165
many hours made her extremely ill. She
felt sick and was nearly fainting, when
one of the doors unexpectedly opened.
The fresh air admitted by the door revived
her, and she beheld the most good-natured
looking of the men who had carried her
off enter.

He placed his finger on his lip, as a sign
for her to be silent, and approaching near,
whispered to her—“If you will solemnly
swear never to divulge what has passed to
any person whatsoever, nor disclose the secret
of the cavern near Treharne Hall, you
have discovered, I will restore you safe to
your home. But mind, first religiously
swear you will not betray me—swear, and
you shall be rescued from further horrors
now awaiting if you remain, and I will
release you directly.”

Glad to escape on any terms, Rose took
the oath he required, and then requested
him to give her, if he could, some slight
refreshment, as she was quite exhausted.
The man took some bread, cheese, and a bottle H11v 166
bottle of beer, out of a cupboard in the cavern,
and having eat and drank a little,
she was quite refreshed. The man now
desired her to follow him; they went down
the passage by which she had entered the
cavern a little distance, then turning up
on the left side, it conducted them into an
extensive hollow recess, scooped, like the
cavern, out of the solid rock.

But language is weak to portray the
harrowed sensations of horror and terror
that overwhelmed the ill-fated Rose, when
shuddering she beheld the stiffened murdered
corse of some unfortunate foreigner,
extended on the ground! By his dress he
appeared to be a Moor or Turk; his turban
had fallen off, and revealed to her horrorstruck
sight many deep and bloody gashes
on his head, which, contrasted with the pale
hue of death his face displayed, looked so
ghastly and dreadful, that all her fortitude
now utterly forsook her at this grim sanguinary
spectacle. Supposing, with probability,
that she was conducted here to fall H12r 167
fall another victim by the murderous arm
of her companion, she gave one piercing
shriek, and fell insensible beside the bloodstained
body of the breathless stranger.

Chapter V.

“The false and cunning would allure thee, And win thee only to betray; I would not, lady, so secure thee, Nor wear thy favours for a day.” Robinson.

When Rose recovered from her swoon,
she found herself on the ground, and her
head supported by the man whom she had
unjustly suspected of intending her destruction.
The pale horrible form of the
murdered foreigner had disappeared, and
she was almost tempted to fancy that the
shocking sight she had witnessed was a delusive
dream. Her companion said nothing
respecting the mangled corse, but told her there H12v 168
there was no time to be lost, if she wished
to leave this dreary abode. She must
instantly, he added, exert herself, if she
desired to quit her prison, and pointed,
as he hastily spoke, to some steps cut in
the stony sides of this recess, by which they
could ascend to the top. All her courage
now returned, from eagerness to get out of
this den of murder and desolation. Supported
by the man, she quickly mounted
the steps, and on reaching the roof of this
hollow recess, her companion lifted a trapdoor,
and led her from it into a small
woody copse. He threw some brambles
over the opening through which they had
passed, and conducted her a few yards to
where a horse was tied to a tree. The
man untied the horse, and mounting her,
in silence, behind him, rode off with great
speed till they arrived at Treharne Wood.

He now dismounted, assisted her to
alight, and fastening his horse to the paling,
attended her on foot through the wood,
where she easily traced vestiges of the violentlent I1r 169
storm. Some of the trees were torn
up by the roots, and broken branches
strewed the ground, which was so soft and
wet, that her shoes were quite soaked with
the damp; and it was so slippery that she
would have several times fallen down, had
she not held by the strong arm of her companion.
When they had got clear of the
wood, the man proceeded with her to the
river side, and loudly sounded the bugle
for her.—“I leave you now in safety,
young lady,”
said he; “but remember the
oath you have taken as sacred. If you are
false to what you have sworn, the consequence
will be fatal, not only to yourself
but all your family.”

Rose offered him money, which he refused,
and promised to be faithful and secret
to what he had made her swear. When
she had repeated this, the man was gone in
an instant, with such rapidity, that when
she looked round directly after, she could
not perceive him.

Vol. II. I No I1v 170

No lights appeared in any part of the
house; all was dark and gloomy, and she
began to be very impatient, as she was
weary and wet, at not perceiving any person
make their appearance, it being some
time since she announced her arrival by
the usual signal. Again she sounded the
bugle with her utmost force, which might
have been heard at a great distance, and
soon after one of the first floor windows
cautiously opened, and three heads looked
out together. Imagine her joy when she
distinguished the voice of her faithful Kamira
speaking to Robin, who directly after
asked Miss Douglas what she wanted.
Eagerly she informed them who she was,
though the tone of her voice would have
been sufficient to declare that it was their
dear young lady. Immediately after she
could hear Kamira, in delighted accents
expressing her pleasure, and sooner than
she could have expected, Robin and the
Indian had brought the boat to the bankside,side, I2r 171
and quickly conducted her to her beloved
home, which she valued the more
from having been rudely torn from it.

But the gladness that exhilarated the
heart of Kamira, and was felt by the other
servants at the restoration of their mistress,
was abated as they observed how alarmingly
ill she looked. When they expressed
their sorrow, she requested them not to
be uneasy, as she should, she hoped, very
shortly recover her health, now that she
was inexpressibly happy at reaching Treharne
in safety, and having so unexpectedly
restored to her her valuable attendant.
Rose now desired them to prepare
tea, and while she was waiting for it, could
not avoid reflecting that it is only by the
privation of our comforts that we are sensible
of their real value. Never would she
have enjoyed so much, she was convinced,
the cleanliness of every thing that surrounded
her, had she not been confined in
the dirty residence of Mrs. Naylor.

When Rose was left alone with Kamira,I2 ra, I2v 172
she requested to be acquainted with
the circumstances of her escape from the
power of the ruffians. Kamira replied,
that directly after they had conveyed her
mistress to the ruinous house, they took
her from the carriage, and leading her to
the sea-side, placed her in a boat, which
rowed to a vessel at anchor, where they
carried her on board. As evening advanced,
the vessel approached the shore,
and when it was quite night, anchored very
near the land. All day they detained Kamira
below deck, and during the storm
which raged so furiously; but when the
tempest was in some degree lulled, she
entreated them to let her go on deck for a
little fresh air, as she felt very ill, from
being confined so many hours in a small
cabin. Elevated with the liquor they had
been plentifully drinking, they were in
tolerable good-humour, and granted her
request. A thought had suggested itself
to her mind when she asked this favour,
that made her hope to effectually escape. She I3r 173
She could swim exceedingly well, having
been accustomed from her earliest youth
to practise swimming, which made her resolve,
if she had an opportunity, to throw
herself overboard, and by this means gain
the shore.

Soon after Kamira got on deck, the
crew went again below to supper, leaving
only a lad on deck, who was seated on the
floor, and was dozing as he sat. A strong
rope was fastened to the side of the ship,
which she noticed with satisfaction. The
boy in a short interval fell fast asleep, and
the men were merrily carousing, when
Kamira gently pulled off her upper garments,
that they might not incumber her
in the design she meditated. Throwing
them into the water, she now let herself
down into the sea by the rope, and in a
few minutes swam safely to land. that
a woman could swim was unsuspected by
these wretches, which had thrown them
completely off their guard. Kamira now
walked with the greatest expedition up the I3 road I3v 174
road that led from the desolate beach,
drenched with rain, and almost beat down
with the wind, as the storm commenced
again with redoubled fury. She was nearly
undressed, and the few clothes she had on
were wet with the salt-water; but she
heeded not the raging tempest, nor her
uncomfortable state, from the rapture she
felt at being freed from the clutches of the
monsters who had made her a prisoner.

About a mile from the coast she was
overtaken by a countryman, who pitied
her, when she told him she had been robbed
and stripped by thieves. He was
going near Treharne, and humanely offered
her shelter in his covered cart. Having
conveyed her within a few yards of the
house, he drove off, and Kamira reached
the Hall in security. Old Robin and
Dolly were enraptured at the sight of her,
being unable to guess the cause of their
having disappeared; he was afraid to quit
the mansion with only Dolly in it, or to
inform Miss Douglas’s friends of what had happened, I4r 175
happened, as he was ignorant, till Kamira’s
return, whether their absence was voluntary
or otherwise. Mrs. Fane had called
on the day of their unwilling departure to
the sea-side, and being told that Miss
Douglas
was gone to take a walk, would
not come in, but left a kind message for
her; and no other visitors had been since.

Rose now entreated that Robin, Kamira,
and Dolly, would preserve an inviolable
secrecy respecting all that had occurred
these three last days; urgent reasons, she
told them, obliged her to solicit them to
be silent on the subject, as it was not only
her own life that would be endangered, if
the events that had lately taken place were
known publicly. They all promised to
faithfully retain the secret, in consideration
of their own safety, as well as hers,
though they were so faithfully attached to
her, that they would have saved her life at
the expence of theirs, had it been required.

It was a long time before Rose recovered
from the effect of the disagreeable impressionI4 pression I4v 176
caused by the horrid spectacle she
had beheld, and from the excessive perturbation
she had suffered. Every sudden
noise made her start and tremble violently;
it was, however, a soothing consolation,
that she could converse with Kamira
on the mysterious incidents that had happened.
When the conversation turned
on the circumstance of their being borne
away to the dreary beach, they were both
of opinion that the ruffians subsisted by
robberies of every description, and plundering
the vessels wrecked on the coast;
that they did not scruple murder, when
any considerable booty was in view, she
was convinced, from the mangled dead
body she had seen in the rocky recess, and
she was grateful to Providence that had
benignly rescued them from the hands of
these sanguinary unprincipled assassins.
Rose likewise suspected that there was
some inlet from the cavern near the sea,
to the one she had discovered communicated
with Treharne Hall. Various conjecturesjectures I5r 177
perplexed her; and, quite bewildered
with endeavouring to explain the mystery,
she found she must trust to time to
develop it. She concluded, on reasonable
grounds, that the ruffians were instigated
and employed by another person to force
her away, for some motive she could not
penetrate. The appearance of Mrs. Pryce
with the unknown gentleman, who looked
superior and elegant, notwithstanding his
disguise, heightened her suspicion.

Mrs. Fane, when she visited Rose, was
surprised and concerned at seeing her again
looking exceedingly ill, which she attributed
to a violent cold she had really
caught in walking through the damp wood.
She was glad to make this excuse, as she
could not, consistent with her promise or
secrecy, confide what had passed—at least
she was undecided how to act till she had
consulted her father and mother, and was
resolved to remain passive till she could
have the advantage of their judgment and
advice.

I5 Apprehensive I5v 178

Apprehensive of any additional attempts
to ensnare and carry her off, she
never walked out, if only in the garden,
without Robin accompanying her, as well
as Kamira. Instead of walking as frequently
as formerly, she went an airing in
Mrs. Fane’s carriage, and visited that lady
often, accepting her kind invitations more
than she had hitherto done, as she felt secure
when rambling in her garden and
grounds. Mrs. Fane was much gratified
with her constant visits, and she had the
satisfaction of pleasing her worthy old
friend, and feeling herself protected and
amused.

But an event that now happened was a
source of the truest gratification; it renewed
her vivacity, and was the sweetest
balm to heal her wounded breast. This
was a letter from her brother, to whom
she was so ardently attached, in which he
informed her he had just landed from Ireland,
and would be at Treharne in a few
days. The expectation of seeing him was a consolation I6r 179
a consolation for all her sufferings. Felix
even mentioned the evening and hour he
intended to arrive, and have the happiness
of embracing his sisters; adding, that he
had heard from his mother all the particulars
of hers and his father’s residence, for
so long a period, at Towie Craigs. The delight
of Rose at the prospect of meeting
her dear brother, who had been absent for
such a length of time, is almost indescribable.
Unaccustomed for some months to
the emotions of joy, the pleasing estranged
sensations quite agitated her.

Every hour appeared an age till the day
arrived, at whose close that loved brother
was to appear. As the evening and time
approached, each moment seemed to move
on leaden wings. It was a fine calm night,
when Rose stood at the hall-door in anxious
expectation. The moon gently rose
over the hills, and irradiated with its beams
the ancient turrets of Treharne Hall, and
silver waters of the river that washed its
walls. Undisturbed, the stream smoothly I6 glided I6v 180
glided, reflecting the bright orb of the brilliant
luminary; the sky was spangled with
innumerable stars; and Rose admired,
though her mind was occupied, the luminous
sparkling bodies that shone in the
nocturnal scene: by their soft light she
listened to the tuneful sweet modulation
of the nightingale, whose harmonious warblings
were distinctly heard. In the solitary
grove near the hermitage, she had frequently
been entertained in summer with
this enchanting evening songstress, who
frequented sequestered coppices and shady
spots.

The pleasing anxiety that agitated her
was soon removed, by the sound of carriage-wheels
rattling at a little distance,
which announced the approach of Felix.
Robin was waiting on the other side of
the river in readiness to attend him, and
soon did the postchaise appear in sight.
It stopped near the banks of the river, and
with unutterable joy she saw her brother,
dressed in regimentals, spring from the carriage. I7r 181
carriage. He then waited a moment, till
a gentleman got out with his assistance,
who leaned upon his arm for support, as if
he was ill. Felix now appeared to desire
Robin to bear him up on the other side,
and between them he was placed in the
boat, leaving the postillion with the luggage,
till Robin could return to help him
to bring it over. When they entered,
where Rose stood eager to receive them,
she flew to embrace her brother, who affectionately
returned her testimonies of regard
with fraternal affection. The stranger
kept back, leaning on Robin, till the first
emotion of joy at meeting after so long an
interval had subsided; and Felix, turning
to him, said—“Forgive me, if in the delight
of seeing my sister, I have neglected
you for an instant.—Rose,”
he continued,
“I must now entreat your immediate care
and attention for this gentleman, whom I
have had the good fortune to rescue from
a gang of wretches, who have wounded
him, but I hope not dangerously.”

Rose I7v 182

Rose now looked at the stranger, who
bowed to her, and apologized for her inattention
to him, from being so much engaged
with the pleasure of seeing her brother.
He looked very pale and exhausted,
and she requested he would accompany
her to the drawing-room, where he could
recline on a sofa, till an apartment was prepared,
and have any assistance or relief he
required or wished. Leaning on Robin
and Felix, he attended her, and placing
the cushions of the sofa in such a manner
as would allow him to repose with ease and
comfort, he gladly rested his weakened
frame, feeling very faint, from having lost
a great deal of the vital stream of life.

Felix left the room, and Rose being disengaged,
was now at leisure to contemplate
the stranger. Never had she viewed any
one with equal admiration and interest.
He was tall, and finely proportioned, with
a face of manly beauty, and about five or
six-and-twenty years of age. Rose was so
much interested with his appearance, that she I8r 183
she could not avoid stealing a look at him
whenever she could do it unperceived, and
though, if his mind equalled his person,
he must be perfection itself. He was
dressed in the regimentals of an officer of
the Guards, and his two epaulets proved
he was of no inferior rank. The wounds
he had received were in his shoulder and
breast, and the stains on his white waistcoat
and pantaloons were evident traces of
the injuries he had received. Rose asked
if he would not wish to retire to rest,
as he should occupy her brother’s apartment,
which was ready, and another could
be arranged for him? but he thanked her
in a faint voice, and declined her kind and
polite offer, saying, he would rather wait
where he was, till he had seen the surgeon
Mr. Douglas had been so good as to dispatch
his servant for before their arrival,
and wished him to examine his wounds.

Felix now returned, and related to his
sister the particulars of his rencontre with
this gentleman, whom he styled sir Eglamourmour I8v 184
Delavalle
. Within a mile of Treharne,
as he was driving on rapidly, with
his servant (a soldier of his regiment) in the
postchaise with him, they perceived, by the
light of the moon, a very unequal combat.
Sir Eglamour, with two privates, and three
or four other men, were bravely defending
themselves against a party of at least
twenty sailors, and ill-looking fellows.
Felix was well armed with a sword and
loaded pistols, and his man had likewise
another pair charged. With more courage
than prudence, as the affray was so
disproportionate, he ordered the postboy
to stop, and jumping out, ranged himself
with his man on the side of his brother-
officer, whose military dress prejudiced
him in his favour. When the rascals,
who had the advantage in numbers, perceived
that their opponents had additional
support, though small, they cowardly
fled, after Felix and his servant had discharged
their pistols.

When the villains had taken their flight very I9r 185
very expeditiously, Felix addressed the
officer, and finding he was wounded, begged
to be allowed to accommodate him
with a place in the postchaise, and that he
would also partake of the hospitality the
home he was going to afforded. The
officer, who was delighted with the intrepidity
of Felix, whose courageous interference
had most probably saved his life,
wished to be acquainted with him, and
was also happy to receive so speedy an
accommodation, as there was neither house
or cottage near the spot where they had
been engaged; he therefore accepted his
proposal with gratitude, and Felix dispatched
his own servant directly, on sir
Eglamour’s
horse, for a surgeon.

As they travelled slowly, Felix was informed
by his companion that the men
who had retreated on his appearance to assist
him and his party, were smugglers,
and considered as very daring characters.
They were proceeding to one of their places
of rendezvous, with a considerable quantitytity I9v 186
of contraband goods, when they
unexpectedly encountered three customhouse-officers,
who had the imprudence
to order the smugglers to surrender themselves
and property. It was an indiscretion
nearly allied to madness, as their opponents
were much more than double their
number, and not inclined to give themselves
up to the punishment of the law,
as they belonged to the same gang who
had some time before murdered two excise
and one customhouse-officer. Hitherto
they had eluded the vigilance of
justice, and had nearly overpowered these
indiscreet men, when sir Eglamour, who
was stationed with part of the Coldstream
Guards
at Exeter, happened to pass by,
with two of his soldiers, and knowing one
of the men who were engaged against the
smugglers, came forward, attended by his
soldiers, in defence of the weakest party:
but valour and skill in all likelihood would
have availed them little, had not Felix and
his servant appeared and saved them from becoming I10r 187
becoming victims to the power of these
atrocious, lawless wretches. The smugglers
were apprehensive, as their enemies’
numbers were increased, though in a trifling
degree, that one of them might alarm
the country, and bring down a large body
of people against them, which would have
fatal consequences: this consideration occasioned
their giving up the contest, and
flying from the scene of action. Felix
added, that Robin had been telling him
that a band of these desperate fellows had
infested the neighbourhood for some years,
nor could the magistrates ever discover
where they concealed themselves, or been
able to secure one of them, notwithstanding
the most diligent search had been
made; he was therefore of opinion, that
sir Eglamour and himself had fortunately
escaped from such successful ruffians.

Mr. Addison the surgeon now arrived.
He was a skilful man, and resided at a large
village about two miles and-a-half from
Treharne, which being nearer than Exeter, Brown, I10v 188
Brown, Mr. Douglas’s servant, had very
properly requested his attendance, as the
delay would be greater if he proceeded to
the city for another professional gentleman.
Felix and his sister, who were both more
interested in favour of their guest than
they had ever been for any other stranger,
now heard, with the highest satisfaction,
that his wounds were not dangerous. Mr.
Addison
, however, recommended that, sir
Eglamour
should not be removed from
Treharne for a week at least, as he was inclined
to be feverish, though slightly
wounded, and very much enfeebled from
the loss of blood.

When sir Eglamour had retired, Felix
eagerly asked why he had not see Jane,
what was the reason, and if she was up
stairs ill? Rose felt great pain at being
reduced to the cruel necessity of acquainting
her brother with the distressing circumstances,
relative to her sister, that had
occurred, yet softened, as much as possible,
her imprudence: but all her amiable precautioncaution I11r 189
did not prevent him from thinking
she had acted incorrectly, and he discerned
much to blame in her conduct.

“Indiscreet girl!” he exclaimed; “I always
predicted your fate, from the extreme
levity and perverseness of your disposition:
yet do I not the less lament the
misery that I am assured you have entailed
on yourself, and the uneasiness you
will cause my father and mother. But I
hope with you, Rose, that her afflictions
may have a good effect, by amending her
temper. When she finds most characters
in the world very different from her fond
indulgent parents, it will probably induce
her to correct her errors.”

“I am convinced,” replied Rose, “that
the indifference of colonel Guilford, which
is in my opinion even worse than jealousy
or severity, will cause a surprising revolution
in her character. Jane possesses natural
good sense, which will influence her
to reform and improve. Had she married
happily and prosperously, instead of correctingrecting I11v 190
her errors, she would perhaps have
indulged them, till they became too deeply
rooted for amendment; I trust, therefore,
my dear brother, that when you see her,
you will be affectionate, and not make any
unkind remarks: but I need not say this,
as your good heart has dictated the propriety
of being lenient to the failings of so
near and dear a relation.”

Felix assured her he was not the least
inclined to be harsh, and only regretted
that Jane had sought such an unhappy
destiny. He proposed going to see her
very shortly, and desired Rose would write
to acquaint her with his arrival. Colonel
Guilford’s
dislike to visitors he did not
think worthy of attention, observing, that
it would give Jane consequence in his
eyes, when he found that her relations did
not desert her, though she had not consulted
them respecting her marriage, and
that she had a spirited brother to defend
her, if ill used. Rose admired her brother’s
animation while he was speaking, and I12r 191
and the manly energy he displayed, and
felt herself transformed to a different being,
now that she enjoyed the consolation of
his society and protection. It seemed as
if no danger could approach, while he resided
with her.

During the period that sir Eglamour was
a resident of Treharne, Rose imparted to
her brother the various events that had
happened since their parents were in Scotland.
The only incident she concealed
from him was Courtenay’s perfidy and attachment.
Previous, however, to this confidence,
she made him promise that whatever
she entrusted to him should remain a
secret. He sympathized in her terror and
anxiety, when she described her dreadful
adventure in the subterraneous abode.
For what purpose they had borne her to
the cavern, and by whom employed, he
could not imagine. The only part of the
mystery he thought he could penetrate
was, that there existed a connexion between
the smugglers who had wounded sir I12v 192
sir Eglamour, and the ruffians who conveyed
her to the ruinous house. He likewise
suspected that there was some subterraneous
passage that connected the cavern
at Treharne with the one nearer the sea.

Felix and Rose, while they lamented
the accident that had caused sir Eglamour’s
wounds and sufferings, could not
avoid at the same time rejoicing that this
unfortunate circumstance had introduced
him to their acquaintance. United to a
manly beauty that is rarely seen, he possessed
the finest understanding, with the
most exquisite refinement of manners, and
pleasing address. Though so uncommonly
handsome, he did not appear to place the
least value on his personal attractions. He
was lively, humane, and the bravest among
those distinguished for courage. His disposition
and that of Felix were very similar,
and they directly formed one of those
ardent friendships, produced in feeling and
kind hearts in early life, with all the unsophisticated
warmth of noble minds. No cold K1r 193
cold suspicion, the growth of advanced
years, prevented them from enjoying the
glow of partiality and esteem with all its
pleasing ardour.

On the third day after his reception at
the Hall, sir Eglamour left his apartment,
and passed the succeeding hours in the society
of Felix and his sister. They tasted
together those delightful moments, which
sometimes occur in existence, though not
frequently, and are like gleams of brightest
sunshine. They are remembered as
instants of happiness, that have glided
without alloy, like a blissful dream. Rose
was captivated with sir Eglamour, from
the first evening she beheld him, and the
object of her admiration received the same
impression in her favour. Though writhing
with acute pain, he thought, as he
gazed on her perfect form, that she was
the most lovely woman he had ever seen.
Every additional hour that he passed in
her company heightened the prepossession.
He discovered that her manners were Vol. II. K charming K1v 194
charming and fascinating, and her disposition
as estimable as her person was beautiful.
Each day they admired and mutually
esteemed the character and perfections
that distinguished the other, and in
one little week became truly and ardently
attached.

But perfect felicity is too transient in
general, and by its loss we feel severely
the deprivation we have sustained. Endeared
to each other with the fondest affection,
they viewed the expiration of this
eventful week with real regret. Their
new-born attachment made them keenly
feel the bitterness of separation. They
were conscious of the ardent regard that
glowed in either faithful bosom, though
neither of them had pronounced the word
“I love.” Sir Eglamour had not acquired
resolution to make a declaration of his sincere
affection, and offer himself for her acceptance;
but he resolved, when he returned
to Exeter, to disclose his sentiments in
a letter. When he was on the point of leaving K2r 195
leaving Treharne, Felix said he should
accompany him to his lodgings, and visit
him afterwards in a few days, as he should
be anxious to know how his health was;
and if it continued to improve, Rose added
that she hoped they should soon have
the pleasure of seeing him again.

Sir Eglamour looked expressively at
her, and replied—“I must lose all recollection
of what is most pleasing and interesting
in existence, if you do not see me
very shortly at your door.”

Rose blushed, and attended him and
her brother to the hall, as they were going
off, when he uttered those last words. She
stood on the steps gazing after them, till
they entered the postchaise; and while she
admired the graceful figure of her lover,
could not help thinking that two such
elegant handsome young men were seldom
seen together. Sir Eglamour kissed
his hand to her from the window of the
carriage, and Rose returned into the house K2 quite K2v 196
quite dejected. The hopes and fears that
agitate the mind of those who really love
assailed her by turns. He was gone to a
place where there was a great number of
pretty women, who might banish the remembrance
of her. That he was much
interested and pleased with her, she had,
without vanity, important reasons to believe,
from several little incidents that
had taken place, and unequivocally discovered
his passion.

But all these anxious doubts and fears
that tormented Rose were quickly removed
by a letter from sir Eglamour the
following day. How soothing were his
professions of unerring regard, and that his
love was not a transitory flame, but as
steady as it was passionate, being enkindled
not only by the beauty, but worth of
its object! After this frank avowal of his
attachment, he concluded by candidly offering
himself as her future protector, observing,
that he should rely on the gentlenessness K3r 197
and sensibility of her nature, to spare
him the misery of being long in a state of
uncertainty with respect to her sentiments.

Rose loved him too well (whose excellence
she considered as unrivalled) to keep
him a moment in suspense, and answered
his letter immediately. With a frankness
like his own, she confessed her predilection,
and that she should be perfectly happy
to unite her destiny with his, with the approbation
of her father and mother. If
their consent was obtained, and their union
should be effected, Rose ingenuously
avowed that she should feel the utmost solicitude
to promote his happiness, and it
would be her study, by complying with
his wishes, to make him never regret that
he had chosen her for his wife. When
she had finished this letter, she dispatched
it by Brown to sir Eglamour, and then
prepared to accompany Felix on a visit to
Jane, who was apprized the day before of
their intention. With that habitual consideration
for the feelings of others that K3 distinguished K3v 198
distinguished Rose, she had thought it
right to inform her sister they were coming,
to avoid her being surprised, as she
feared it might agitate her in her interesting
critical situation.

Felix and Rose set off on horseback,
and the road which conducted to the residence
of Jane was quite new to them.
They had to ascend very steep hills in the
beginning of their ride, which commanded
delightful picturesque views, when they
gained their summits. The ground afterwards
became more level, and they rode
through shady lanes, where the wild rose
blushed in the hedges, and scented the
air. In the meadows the haymakers were
actively employed, and the fragrant perfume
of the new-mown hay was wafted
to them by the gentle breeze that played
among the foliage of the embowering trees.
They had some difficulty in finding the
way that led to Hemeridge Cottage, where
Mrs. Guilford resided, when they were
within two miles of it, as the villagers who K4r 199
who lived in the nearest hamlet were ignorant
of such a place being in the neighbourhood.
As they were making further
inquiries, a labourer luckily overheard
them, who had worked in the colonel’s
garden, and directed them to enter a wood
half-a-mile further, which conducted to
the spot.

Having reached the place he had pointed
out, they entered a path cut through the
trees, which winding continually, brought
them, after riding a mile and a half, to a
low building in the cottage style. It had
no upper apartments, all the rooms being
on the ground-floor. Impenetrable thickets
and tall trees enclosed the garden, in
the middle of which it stood, on all sides,
excepting the entrance to it, which made
the cottage appear as if to be shut out from
every living creature. From being built
so exceedingly low, it had the appearance
as if it was sunk beneath the branching
oaks, lofty elms, and thick-leaved ash and
sycamores, that flourished luxuriantly near. K4 They K4v 200
They rang the bell, which was answered
by a young woman whose countenance
was expressive of anxiety. Having asked
for Mrs. Guilford, they were informed
she was extremely ill. This made them
the more eager to see her, and, instantly
alighting, Felix fastened the horses to the
gate, and as they hastily entered the garden,
told the servant they were Mrs. Guilford’s
relations.

Felix remained in a small parlour while
Rose was conducted to her sister’s apartment.

Jane was seated in an arm-chair, with
an old woman near her, who looked like
a nurse. The moment Rose entered, she
got up, curtsied respectfully, and left the
chamber, saying, as she went out—“You
will ring when you want me, ma’am.”

Hardly could Rose command her agonized
feelings at the sight of her altered
sister, and it required the strongest mental
efforts to conceal her anguish. She
trembled for her life when she saw her look K5r 201
look so pale and wan. Her round rosy
cheeks, colourless now, were fallen in, and
her lips were blue, instead of being like
coral, as they used to be before she was
married. The redness of her eyes shewed
she had been weeping, and her whole
countenance was haggard and mournful.

When the old woman was out of hearing,
Jane said–“I have scarcely strength
to speak, I feel so very ill; but it is a
great comfort to me to see you, for I do
not think we shall meet again―I feel
as if I had not long to live.―That good
woman who has left us is my nurse―
From what she says, I expect hourly to
be confined.―That I can outlive the
event, I fear, is not possible.―If my
child survives its guilty mother―I bequeath
it to your care――Supply my
place when I am gone―lost for ever.”

Here loud sobs interrupted her; her
head fell back, and nearly fainting, she
could not then articulate another word.
Rose gave her a glass of water, which K5 revived K5v 202
revived her, and though inexpressibly
wretched at witnessing this affecting scene,
she conquered her feelings, and assumed a
look of cheerfulness.—“Do not yield to
low spirits, my dear Jane,”
she exclaimed;
“it is quite common, I have heard, to be
dejected and nervous, situated as you are.
I do not feel the least uneasiness on your
account.”

“Oh, Rose, you do not know the cause.
I was very well and cheerful till yesterday
―then I received my death-blow.
―I have hardly courage or strength to
mention it―but it is necessary you
should know it―however painful the
disclosure.”

Here Jane’s breath grew very short;
she sighed deeply, while her sister implored
her not to speak any more at present
on the subject, as it agitated her too
much.

After a silence of some minutes, Jane
would proceed, notwithstanding her sister’s
entreaties that she would not awaken any K6r 203
any painful recollections. Jane informed
Rose, that Mrs. Pryce had lately been
very frequent in her visits, though she
discouraged them as much as she possibly
could without being uncivil. Yesterday,
when she came, she conversed without
restraint, in an unchaste and improper
manner, and betrayed so gross a neglect
of elegant decency, to which Mrs. Guilford
had always been accustomed, that it
was quite offensive to her feelings, and
she gently expressed her disapprobation
of this kind of conversation. Mrs. Pryce
was quite enraged that one so much
younger should dare to disapprove any
thing she said, and with the countenance
of a fury marched up to her with her fist
doubled, which she shook at her, and with
an eye of such malignity, that the impression
could never be forgotten; though
a light blue, her eyes were inflamed to
that degree with rage, that they glared
like a vivid fire. She made use of language
the most opprobrious and vulgar K6 (which K6v 204
(which it would be impossible for her to
repeat), and then said, with a sneering
laugh, she need not pique herself on her
virtue and propriety, as she was only colonel
Guilford’s
mistress, making use of a
very coarse expression at the same time.
“He has a wife,” added Mrs. Pryce,
“that he is honourably married to.”

This heart-rending discovery, united to
the horror she experienced at being stigmatized
by the disgraceful epithet Mrs.
Pryce
had bestowed on her, had so severe
an effect, that she was instantly seized
with violent hysteric fits. These produced
symptoms very alarming, and the
maid, who was a good sort of girl, being
uneasy at seeing her suffer, sent directly
for the nurse, who had this morning ordered
the doctor to be summoned.

Confirmed in effrontery and wickedness,
Mrs. Pryce evinced not the least
concern at the consequence of her merciless
and unfeminine attack upon this poor
young creature, in her critical state of health, K7r 205
health, but hurried away, fearful of being
blamed.

Had colonel Guilford been at home,
she would not have presumed to insult
her, for though churlish and violent in his
conduct to her himself, he would not
have allowed this depraved abandoned
woman to triumph over and treat her
with insolence. Unfortunately, the colonel
had been absent several days on particular
business, which he expected would
detain him some weeks longer, and of
this circumstance, with which she was
acquainted, she had taken advantage, like
a worthless being as she was, to trample
upon the depressed unoffending Jane.
Her intention was to completely corrupt
the victim of her arts, and by detaching
her from colonel Guilford, gain some pecuniary
profit by persuading her to elope
with another gentleman who had seen
and admired her, when she was recovered
from her confinement. Foiled in her attempts,
from the good and correct educationcation K7v 206
she had received, and superior society
she had associated with, Mrs. Pryce’s
indignation knew no bounds, and she was
exasperated to distraction to find that Jane
had an aversion to low and improper conversation.
She resolved, in revenge, to
mortify her, and too effectually succeeded.

The internal sufferings of Rose, as her
sister related these cruel events, were agonizing
and deeply wounded; her mental
exertions were great to conceal the anguish
that overwhelmed her.

Jane’s mind seemed relieved by the communication
she had made, which was a
feeble alleviation of her sorrow, and summoning
all her resolution, she addressed
her in an assumed voice of cheerfulness,
saying—“I congratulate you on not being
married to a worthless character; you
would have been always miserable, since
such a disgrace to her sex as Mrs. Pryce
is on the list of his intimate friends. As
soon as your health is restored, as you are
now free, you can return home, and I shall have K8r 207
have my companion again; the infant can
be put out to nurse, and as this unhappy
affair is only known to a few persons, it
need not be mentioned that you have been
married. You are not to be censured for
having been deceived; colonel Guilford and
Mrs. Pryce are the guilty beings: they imposed
on your innocence and inexperience
by fraudulently mocking you with a false
marriage. The undeserved treachery you
have encountered, and the insults you have
sustained, only make me love you the more.
This artful imposition is a disgrace to them
and none to you: no longer shall you be
subjected to the tyranny of Guilford, or
the insolence of his depraved companions.
But I must go and dismiss my brother, and
tell him I shall remain here all night—But
will you not see him before he goes?”

Jane declined an interview with Felix,
not having courage at present to behold
a brother, who, she was conscious, must
inwardly disapprove her imprudence, which
had led to unhappiness, not only to herself,
but to her relations. She appeared already K8v 208
already revived by her sister’s kindness,
who went and imparted to Felix, in a concise
manner, every thing that had occurred.
He shared in the affliction which
Jane’s recital had mentally caused Rose,
but approved of all his favourite sister had
done and intended. In compliance with
her wish, he returned home immediately,
without seeing Jane, and escaped the painful
sensations such a meeting would have
occasioned.

As the experienced nurse had predicted,
Jane, about twelve o’clock at night, introduced
a fine little girl into the world,
without her life being endangered. Rose
felt indescribable joy at this fortunate termination
of an event that she had dreaded,
from her being previously so ill and dejected.
As she gazed with affection at the
pretty chubby little babe, she could not
help wishing, from the melancholy circumstance
of its birth, that it had been a boy,
as it would be shielded from many dangers
that await a female, and more easily provided K9r 209
provided for. But her sister was well, and
that consideration consoled her mind, and
would not suffer her to feel a regret on
any other subject. On the following evening
she returned to Treharne, to communicate
the good news to her brother, and
consult with him, as it was necessary to
procure a confidential person to take the
charge immediately of her sister’s infant.
Felix was much pleased to hear that all
their anxiety respecting Jane’s health was
removed; and when Rose suggested to
him that dame Brownson would be an excellent
person, she thought, to have the
care of the child, as she was a good woman,
he was quite delighted with the
idea, and proposed a walk to her cottage
the next morning.

When they arrived, according to their
engagement, at the dame’s cottage the following
day, they found her quite hearty,
blowing the fire to make the pot boil
against her husband came home to dinner.
After expressing her joy at seeing them both, K9v 210
both, but particularly Mr. Douglas, who
had been absent so long, she hung up the
bellows carefully, saying—“It will bring
ill-luck if I leave them on a chair or the
table, and there’s no occasion for that, for
there’s bad luck enough to be met with
without seeking it.”

They smiled at her superstition, and
she continued—“The days are nice and
long now, young folks; I always goes, and
so does my master now, to bed by daylight.
You know the saying is, ‘Lady-day, at night, Put the candle out of sight.’”

“I never heard that saying before,” replied
Rose.

“Why, Miss, no doubt there’s many a
queer old woman’s saying as you have
never heard. But I be sorry to see you
look so peaking and poorly; you don’t
look like yourself. Howsomever, I be
glad to see Mr. Douglas look so handsome,
stout, and tall; why be sure, he’s as fresh as K10r 211
as the flowers in May. But how comes it
Miss Jane is not with you? She’s always
healthy and merry as a grig; the black
cow has not trod on her heel yet.”

“She is not very well,” replied Rose,
“but she will come and see you when she
is recovered;”
and Miss Douglas then proceeded
to inform the dame she was come
to visit her on very particular business.
A friend of hers, whom she was very fond
of, had died in childbirth, and consigned
the new-born infant to her care; from
respect to her deceased friend, she wished
to place it with some person of whom she
had a high opinion, who would be careful
it should not be neglected, and treat it
with tenderness. When she came to reflect,
she considered that Mrs. Brownson
was exactly the worthy kind of woman in
whose hands she should like to place the
child, and she resolved to apply to her.
Rose continued, that it was not to occasion
her any additional fatigue, as she
would pay for the dame’s keeping another maid, K10v 212
maid, besides the girl who now managed
the dairy, and did the household work; it
would be therefore an amusement for her
to superintend the management of the
infant.

Dame Brownson said she should have
been happy to oblige her, even if what she
proposed had not been agreeable; but she
assured her she was delighted at the
thought of having the little babe; it would
be an entertainment, and pass away many
a dull hour. Her master (meaning her
husband) was very fond of those young
things: when they had children of their
own, he was always playing with them;
but now they were all dead and gone long
ago, or she might have had a grandchild
to dandle on her knee; and she wiped a
tear from her aged eyes as she spoke.

Felix and Rose respected her sorrows,
as they reflected it must be heart-breaking,
after the trouble, expence, and anxiety
of rearing children, to be deprived of
them, and childless, when the ravages of time K11r 213
time have made them require their affection
and support to soften their declining
years. Rose agreed to bring or send the
infant to her in a few days, and felt her
mind quite relieved at having arranged
the reception of the infant to her satisfaction,
where she knew the greatest attention
would be paid to its infantine wants.

Felix rode every other day to inquire
after Jane, who continued exceedingly
well; it was the balm of sisterly kindness,
and unbosoming herself to her, that soothed
the acute miseries that had oppressed
her heart, and threatened her existence.
All this period Rose enjoyed not only the
sweet reflection of having by humanity
and tenderness saved her sister’s life, and
acted with the strictest principle towards
her, but the pure and blissful happiness
of receiving daily the most pleasing and
affectionate letters from sir Eglamour. She
relied with implicit faith on his attachment;
and the felicity of being beloved by
the most estimable, the most perfect of men, K11v 214
men, would have fully compensated, she
thought, for years of anguish.

By this frequent and interesting interchange
of their sentiments, which was flattering
to their love and wishes, they softened
the tediousness of absence, as they were
not to meet till Rose had placed her sister’s
child in the hands of dame Brownson.
On the morning appointed, Rose drove to
Hemeridge Cottage in a postchaise, to
fetch the infant, and was much affected at
perceiving that Jane poignantly suffered
the severest pain at parting from her child.
Though it wounded Rose to witness her
affliction, she was gratified at discovering
she possessed so much affection and feeling.
Rose endeavoured to console and
reconcile her to this separation, by observing
what a pleasant walk it would be for
them to dame Brownson’s cottage, and
how gratifying it would be to watch the
little infant’s improvement. Sometimes
she should request the dame to bring it to
them, and it would be so pleasant to have it K12r 215
it for a whole day! Rose perceived the
tear of maternal regard glisten in her sister’s
eye as she spoke, and warmly entreated
Jane to set off for Treharne as soon as
she was well enough to undertake the journey,
as she was fearful it would not be in
her power to visit her again.

The innocent babe was now placed in
the arms of Rose, who kissed it with affectionate
regard; more attached to the
child from the misfortune of its birth, she
resolved that the tenderest care should be
taken of it. It slept soundly during the
journey from Hemeridge to the dame’s residence,
and when she reached her clean
and pleasant abode, she resigned the infant
with confidence to her care.

The only abatement to the happiness Rose
experienced at this period, was the lengthened
absence of her valued parents; had
they been restored to her, she would have
tasted the most exquisite felicity. Her
brother, that she tenderly loved, was with
her; she expected soon to enjoy the society of K12v 216
of her sister, much improved by adversity;
and the man she would have chosen from
a thousand others, superior in fortune, she
was shortly to have the delight of seeing.
That he was deserving her attachment,
who loved her with the truest tenderness,
was a sweet, a delightful reflection. In
goodness and every excellence that ennobles
the human heart, his character shone
conspicuously; securely could she confide
in him, who preferred her prosperity and
tranquillity to his own, so truly did he
love her.

To her friend Mrs. Fane she had disclosed
in confidence every thing that had
lately passed relative to her sister, as she
was acquainted with the commencement
of this unfortunate affair. Mrs. Fane quite
approved her conduct and management
respecting the infant, and said she should
herself sometimes go and see it. To receive
her approbation was infinitely flattering,
as she esteemed and admired her
mother’s worthy old friend. But emotions of L1r 217
of a different description now agitated the
affectionate bosom of Rose Douglas. The
moment appointed by sir Eglamour in his
last letter for their interview approached;
her heart palpitated with mingled sensations
of pleasure and confusion, at the prospect
of her expected happiness.

The fine bloom that usually glowed in
the cheeks of Rose, when sorrow had not
stolen it away, was not a little heightened
when sir Eglamour’s curricle appeared in
sight, driven by his footman. It stopped
opposite the mansion, and from the drawing-room
window, where she was standing,
she observed with satisfaction, that he
did not get out with that languor and
feeble manner which she had remarked
with concern when he left Treharne. He
caught her gazing at him, and nodded
and smiled with a happy animated expression.

Sir Eglamour was much improved in
his looks since they last met: he was always
handsome and engaging, even when Vol. II. L indisposed, L1v 218
indisposed, but returning health added to
his personal attractions, and made him
more impressively captivating. Their mutual
felicity seemed to irradiate their countenances,
and made them appear more
lovely than ever. Seldom did a form so
graceful and handsome as sir Eglamour’s
meet the sight, or such a beautiful elegant
girl as Rose charm the admiring eye.

Sir Eglamour assured her that he had
impatiently anticipated this blissful moment:
had he been pre-engaged when he
first knew her, and not allowed to love,
the kind attentions he had received, her
politeness and pleasing manners, would
have spoilt him for enduring to live
alone. To call it living, was wrong—
breathing only, he would allow it was—a
mere respiration, and nothing more. The
day after he had parted from her he knew
not how to describe—in a word, it was ennui
from morning till night.

Sir Eglamour then alluded to their future
union, and mentioned his fervent wishes L2r 219
wishes to be soon allowed, by the dearest
and nearest of all ties, to be enabled to
constantly watch over her happiness.

Rose replied, that she should be very
reluctant for that event to take place, unless
it was sanctioned by the presence of
either her father or mother. It was sufficient
for her merely to hint at the disposition
of her mind and inclinations, for him
to assent to whatever she chose to dictate,
who he judged could never err; no
one, he affirmed, in the language of sincerity,
was more desirous to promote her
views of happiness and prosperity, and the
certainty of effecting her felicity would
give him heartfelt delight. It was true,
he added, that his friendship and love appeared
to be yet in embryo, but he hoped,
that with lengthened days his wishes
would put forth white blossoms, and yield
delicious fruit. “You smile at my flowery
description just now, and that is what I
am solicitous always to create in your sweet L2 countenance: L2v 220
countenance: may I never be the cause of
a frown clouding that open brow!”

Thus, in expressions of tender and sincere
attachment on the part of sir Eglamour,
and in confiding truth and real affectionate
sentiments, breathed by the ingenuous
artless Rose, did their hours glide
in pure and unalterable bliss; they separated
with regret, and met again with
ineffable pleasure, continually discovering
in the other some new virtue or captivating
quality, that rendered their regard inextinguishable.
On those days when sir
Eglamour’s
duty as an officer prevented
him from visiting “the object of his every
thought,”
the most impassioned and tender
letters passed between them, and relieved
the tediousness of absence; they
looked forward with impatience and anxiety
for the time that was to unite them,
never more, they hoped, to separate. The
high opinion they entertained of each
other convinced them that when the first delirium L3r 221
delirium of love had subsided, the most
unshaken friendship would continue to
unite their hearts in indissoluble bonds.

Chapter VI.

“If tenderness touch’d her, the dark of her eye At once took a darker, a heavenlier dye, From the depth of whose shadow, like holy revealings From innermost shrines, came the light of her feelings. Then her mirth—oh! ’twas sportive as ever took wing From the heart with a burst, like the wild bird in spring.” T. Moore.

When Jane was sufficiently recovered to
quit Hemeridge Cottage, she wrote a letter
to colonel Guilford previous to her departure.
In this letter she informed him
of the discovery Mrs. Pryce had grossly
made of the cruel deception that had been
practised to ruin her peace for ever. To
see him any more, was not consistent,
she said, with her ideas of rectitude; he L3 would L3v 222
would be surprised to hear her say this,
who had acted giddily and with imprudence,
but the moral precepts inculcated
from her earliest youth had not been forgotten.
She might be thoughtless, but
never willingly would she be criminal, and
the most distant thought of continuing to
reside with a married man thrilled her
mind with unspeakable horror. She had
been heedless, unsteady, and violent, but
her severe misfortunes, she hoped, would
correct her errors. Though she would not
reproach him, she wished that the intelligence
of his having another wife had been
imparted to her in a manner less insolent
and disgusting than the indelicate method
Mrs. Pryce took to undeceive her. The
only favour she now requested was, that
he would allow her an annual sum for the
support of her child. If he conducted
himself with liberality in this respect, she
should never evince any resentment, but
let all that had passed between them be
buried in oblivion; she would try to forgetget L4r 223
that she had considered herself as a
married woman, and hoped that very few
persons would be acquainted with that
unfortunate circumstance.

Having sent off this letter, and arranged
every thing for her little journey, she entered
the postchaise, and in two hours and
a half arrived at the paternal mansion, from
which she had voluntarily banished herself,
and been ever since a stranger to tranquillity.
Rose received her with a cheerful
and animated face, expressive of pleasure,
and Kamira jumped and danced
about her with unaffected joy.—“Poor
Miss Jane look very ill,”
exclaimed the
faithful Indian; “but me make her some
good stuff, some nice jelly, make her
plump, and laugh and sing, and get good
sweetheart, like Miss Rose. Oh! such a
handsome beauty gentleman! his eyes shine
like sunbeams on the water; he tall as the
fir-tree in the woods of my country. You
like him, Miss Jane; he’s got heart like L4 your L4v 224
your sister, very good, very sweet indeed
—you must see him soon.”

Jane smiled at this rhapsody of Kamira’s;
she looked at Rose, not having heard
her mention this new lover, and her blushes
confirmed the truth of what Kamira had
said. Rose now conducted her to a small
room, which she had fitted up for her when
she wrote word she was coming, and wished
to be quite retired and not see any company.
It commanded a delightful view,
and was more comfortable, from being
comparatively small to the other large,
lofty, old-fashioned apartments. Jane was
much pleased with her sister’s attention,
and rallied her on the new admirer Kamira
had talked of, observing that she was
rejoiced another lover had succeeded in
making her forget the unworthy Courtenay.

Rose now related to her without disguise
the disagreeable event that had introduced
sir Eglamour to her, which had fortunately L5r 225
fortunately terminated well, and his subsequent
attachment to her, which she had
encouraged, from knowing him to be the
most estimable of men. She likewise solicited
Jane to allow him to see her, and
consider her as a friend; his society would
amuse, as she intended, under the plea of
ill-health, to excuse herself from receiving
any visitors but Mrs. Fane.

Though Jane persisted in being secluded
from society, Rose at length persuaded
her to suffer sir Eglamour to be
admitted to her retirement, as she wished
him to entertain a friendship for her sister.
As Jane viewed him with interest, she
could not do otherwise than own, that in
this instance Rose had displayed exquisite
taste and discernment. The striking attraction
of his fine person, his mental endowments,
and winning manners, quite enchanted
her.

Felix informed them that he had seen
very severe service as an officer. The
character he had lately heard of sir Eglamour,L5 mour, L5v 226
from several distinguished military
men, was, that he possessed boldness and
intrepidity in the greatest dangers; to
this he joined an invincible patience and
firmness in supporting excessive fatigue,
and a settled resolution to die sword in
hand, rather than be vanquished, as his
constancy and bravery in battle surpassed
the courage of most men. To hear the
praise of the man she loved, and which he
justly merited, was music to the ear of
Rose, who could listen for hours to
her brother, when he spoke of him.

Sir Eglamour traced, in the emaciated
form and faded face of Jane Douglas, the
evident remains of beauty. He thought
she must have been very lovely before
illness had impaired her charms, and dimmed
their lustre. Yet handsome, as he
imagined she formerly was, she did not
appear to him to have ever been so beautiful
and engaging as his gentle Rose. He
felt convinced, that if indisposition was to
reduce her to a shadow of her former self, the L6r 227
the goodness that beamed in her expressive
countenance, and the knowledge of
her excellent disposition, would always endear
her to him.

Jane did not envy her sister’s happiness,
but reproached herself for having lost all
hope of being truly valued by a worthy
character, when she witnessed the sincere
looks, and ardent expressions of pure and
real love that passed between sir Eglamour
and Rose. These lovers seemed only to
breathe for each other; every object and
scene was pleasing to them, because viewed
through the perspective glass of genuine
love, which embellishes the dullest
prospect, the most insipid company.

When Jane was alone in her retreat, she
would exclaim with bitter agony—“Had I
not imprudently sacrificed myself, I might
have been happy, like my sister, with some
amiable man who truly loved me, and not
the deserted wretched dupe of a dissolute
libertine, and, what is still more afflicting,
a married man. Alas! how shall I have L6r courage L6v 228
courage to meet my father and mother?
Though they are strangers to my folly,
yet the consciousness of my weakness will
make me tremble before them.”

Thus constantly blaming herself, and
nourishing her grief in solitude, which
made her dejected and unhappy, her health
became gradually undermined. She never
walked out, except to dame Brownson’s
cottage, to visit her child, which only
made her more miserable, as she dared not
indulge her wish to caress it, with all the
ardour she secretly felt. The good dame
was thunderstruck at perceiving such an
alteration in the lively Miss Jane, who was
grown quite serious, and shaking her head,
observed that she did not like to see such
a change in a young person; it seemed as
if they had been crossed in love, and she
hoped no false-hearted gentleman had been
deceiving her.

Rose evaded the subject, by saying it
was a dangerous illness that had caused
her sister to be so different from what she used L7r 229
used to be, and that her spirits would revive
when her health was restored.

This explanation appeared very natural,
as she was grown exceedingly thin, and a
hollow cough shook her wasted frame.
The dame sometimes brought the infant
to Treharne, and remained with it the
whole day; then did Jane enjoy all the
luxury of woe: shut up with it in her solitary
apartment, she desired her sister not
to interrupt her, that she might enjoy the
pleasure of caressing and playing with her
infant undisturbedly. Rose indulged her,
and respecting her maternal affection, was
careful she should not be molested; but
had she known that while she fondled the
innocent creature, she wept bitterly, and
bathed its cherub face with her tears, she
would not have suffered her to be uninterrupted.
When the baby slept, she continued
to lament over it, almost in a state
of distraction, though she concealed her
perturbation directly her sister appeared,
fearful she would deprive her of this painfulful L7v 230
consolation, if she knew the emotion it
created.

Mrs. Fane had left the country soon
after Jane’s return, on a visit to one of her
children in London. Had she seen her
thus gradually wasting, she would have
pointed out to her brother and sister the
alarming alteration, who from being with
her constantly, did not perceive the melancholy
change. The return of Felix to Treharne
had restored it to part of its usual
gaiety, though not quite so cheerful as
when the general and his lady were there,
and Jane formed one of the party. To all
inquiries respecting her, the answer was,
that she had been for some time indisposed,
and continued quite an invalid.

The Morrington family were returned,
and brought down with them, on another
visit, the count de Fontenai. Felix called
on lord Morrington, and was introduced
to the count, who visited Treharne a few
days afterwards. He was apparently much
disappointed at not seeing Miss Jane, and anxiously L8r 231
anxiously inquired of Miss Douglas after
her health. When he was informed she
was ill, he evinced a sensibility that pleased
and interested her, which made Rose suspect
that he actually felt a real attachment
to her sister. From this observation, she
was determined to do all in her power,
when Jane was a little recovered, to persuade
her to have an interview with De
Fontenai
, and give him encouragement,
as he was a man of superior rank and fortune;
and from the feeling he displayed, it
was evident his heart was not defective.

The count was not deficient in understanding,
though guilty of many follies,
and foppish, as most young Frenchmen
are, from their extreme vivacity, and are
rarely the least rational till more than
thirty. Rose expressed to Jane the good
opinion she entertained of him, and her
suspicion of his ardent regard for her.
From the favourable manner in which she
listened to the encomiums bestowed on the
count, Rose hoped that in time she might be L8v 232
be persuaded to see him; if he truly loved
her, she imagined that he would not be
the less attached, when informed of her
having been deceived by a false marriage,
as her ideas were too noble and correct to
think of practising any deception, should
he make Jane a regular offer of his hand.

Jane now informed her sister, that she
had observed, ever since lady Morrington’s
return, the figure of a gentleman, whose
form resembled the count’s, walking every
day near the Hall, and looking all over it,
as if he wished to catch a glance of some
person; and from what Rose had just mentioned,
she thought it was indeed De Fontenai,
who walked by with the hope of
seeing her by chance at the window.

Miss Wizzle and her worthy brother
Jerry, accompanied by doctor Owen, came
to pay their respects almost directly after
they were informed of Mr. Felix Douglas
being arrived at Treharne. To add to the
group assembled that morning in the drawing-room,
were sir Henry Arundel, Miss Herbert L9r 233
Herbert
, who had lately returned into the
country, and sir Eglamour.

“Most accomplished and charming girl!”
said doctor Owen, walking up immediately
to Rose, when he entered, “daughter
of most delightful parents, sister of the
Graces, and now of Mars also (meaning
Felix, because he was an officer), how I
regret that I am not a nabob, a rich sultan,
or the grand seignior himself—and
young too, that I might lay my turban,
beset with valuable jewels, at your feet,
and pour all my store into your lap!”

“I would do more,” observed sir Eglamour,
who discovered instantly all the eccentricity
and absurdity of his character,
which amused him highly—“I should
like to travel with her brother Mars to
Peru, and ransack the mines there, for
this lovely creature, her sister Grace, and
amiable parents. Mars and myself would,
I will venture to suppose, be satisfied with
a small portion of riches ourselves, if so
highly blessed as to contribute all we could L9v 234
could to the happiness of those we love
and honour.”

“I am sorry, Miss” said the good but
formal Jerry, “that I am confined, or rather
chained by the leg to the apothecary’s
shop; therefore, though I wish, I cannot
pretend to do all these gentlemen talk
of; I must leave it wholly to your brother
Mars to accomplish with sir Eglamour
our ardent desires. They have full liberty
to traverse this rich, great globe, and to
demand their portion of the spoils fortune
may kindly throw in their way. You and
yours, my dear Miss, will no doubt share
with Mars and sir Eglamour not a small
part of their good fortune, which, with two
other blessings, health and contentment,
may you ever be happy!”

“Really, brother,” exclaimed Polly
Wizzle
, “I think you are not very polite,
no more than doctor Owen, to make Miss
Douglas
the principal subject of conversation
(if she is your favourite), and neglecting
another lady that is present.”

“I admire L10r 235

“I admire him for it,” said Miss Herbert;
“it proves he is the most constant
of the constant. Do not be uneasy, for I
am not in the least jealous.”

“How much like a true woman, my
sister likes to turn the tables on me!”
replied
Jerry. “When she is engrossed with
any one who is the object of her admiration,
she is deaf, blind, and insensible to
all that passes. I believe you are enamoured
of that gentleman opposite (meaning
sir Henry Arundel), and that is the
reason you do not know what you are
talking about. But I must reprimand
you, and tell you, you are deficient in politeness
yourself, having never once asked
after poor Miss Jane.”

“Time and patience are sovereign remedies,”
rejoined Polly, “for such a young
girl, and to them I consign her without
uneasiness. This fine weather will, I have
hopes, do some miracle for her.—Pray,
Miss Herbert, may I ask how you liked
London this season?”

“For L10v 236

“For some time after I arrived, very
few people were in town, which made it
rather triste. Afterwards, when they all
assembled, it became almost too hot for
crowded rooms; and I assure you, I rejoice
to get into the country after the fatigue
of a London spring.”

“I should like to have a peep at some
of your fashionable dresses,”
exclaimed
Polly, with animation: “quite stylish
they certainly must be.”

“You would be disappointed, I fear,”
said Mary Herbert, smiling; “I have
brought very few offerings for the shrine
of vanity. If the sight of them is not unacceptable,
I shall be happy to shew them
to you at any time.”

“Thank you, Miss Herbert: if I lived
near, I should be much obliged by your
kind offer; I am sorry you live so far off.”

“Miss Herbert is too much favoured
by nature to require a great deal of ornament,”
observed Felix. “I always think
a very fine dress disguises a pretty woman.”

“The L11r 237

“The mantuamakers and milliners
would not approve your sentiments,”
said
Mary, “and the balls would look very
dull if the ladies were plainly attired. Lady
Morrington
gave a magnificent ball when
she was in town; I liked it much, and
though I hardly knew a man in the room,
had partners innumerable, and very good
ones.”

“And lovers too, no doubt?”

“No adorers, I assure you, they are in
great scarcity; indeed, I am almost persuaded
I shall be an old maid, and wear
the willow, in spite of the number of husbands
the world has given me.”

“Then you will break some tender lovesick
swain’s vulnerable heart, I am convinced.”

“Hearts are tough things, not easily
broke. I was at an assembly likewise, of
a relation’s of Mrs. Fane, whose house is
elegantly furnished; lady Morrington I
met there, who looked very handsome.”

Rose smiled, and Mary Herbert continuedtinued L11v 238
“You are amused, because you
recollect that your sister Jane and I could
never agree on the formidable subject of
beauty; it has often been the subject of
those little disagreements, which a tear
from one side, and a smile from the other,
constantly made up.”

“May we never meet with worse in our
pilgrimage here, Miss!”
exclaimed Jerry.
“You must allow me to be of my little
merry Miss Jane’s opinion: I do not think
lady Morrington has much pretension to
personal attraction.”

“I’ll mention some ladies to you,”
replied Miss Herbert, “that will please
your taste, however fastidious. If they
were in town, nobody could be compared
to them, or so much admired—I mean
Miss Douglas and her sister.”

Rose blushed, when sir Henry and Mr.
Jerry
said she had undoubtedly been assured
they would both agree with her
on that point, and endeavoured to change
the conversation, which soon turned on a rural L12r 239
rural entertainment lord Morrington intended
to give the following week. Felix
and his sisters were invited, but Rose declined
going, as her sister was ill; yet Jane
and herself persuaded their brother to be of
the party, as his pleasures and enjoyments
were a source of gratification to them.

Sir Henry Arundel was now a frequent
visitor. He always admired Miss Douglas,
and thinking she was disengaged, allowed
his passion and admiration for her to imperceptibly
increase: it was nourished by
continual interviews, which he obtained
under the pretext of visiting her brother,
to whom he was very attentive. Rose was
delighted to perceive his growing friendship
for Felix, knowing that he might be
of service in procuring promotion in the
army for her brother, as his connexions
were high in rank, and had great interest
with persons who could serve him.

The increasing indisposition of Jane
daily grew more evident, and became at
length perceptible to her brother and sister.ter. L12v 240
It poisoned the happiness Rose would
otherwise have enjoyed, as a letter received
from her mother for the first time created
a hope of her and her father’s speedy return.
At the period of her writing, sir
James
was taken more alarmingly and
dangerously ill. Jane had never received
any answer to the letter which she had
written to colonel Guilford, and this circumstance
both surprised and afflicted her.
Her sister had proposed devoting half of
the sum allowed them yearly by the general
for their clothes and pocket-money,
to the support of the child, which joined
together, would be sufficient for its maintenance
while an infant; yet she could not
endure the reflection of depriving Rose of
the money she required to appear as a lady,
though she had assured her, that with strict
economy she could manage extremely
well. From Guilford’s continued silence,
Jane concluded that, tired of her, he was
glad to get rid of an expensive encumbrance,
and this cruel thought, by increasinging M1r 241
her indisposition, slowly injured her
constitution.

The little babe had been christened and
named Caroline, after their mother. Rose
had it more frequently brought to Treharne,
with the hope of gratifying and
amusing her sister, not suspecting that the
sight of it added to her anguish. It daily
improved in health and beauty, being carefully
nursed, under the watchful eye of
dame Brownson, who doted on it, as well
as the honest miller, her husband. Rose
grew every day more attached to the infant,
and parted from it with reluctance.
It was a perfect model of infantine loveliness,
and so good-tempered, that it scarcely
ever cried. Rose sketched a little drawing
of it, which she gave to Jane, who
said, as she received it—“I wish I had
died at her age; then I should have been
innocent and happy.”

Rose shuddered.—“I cannot regret,”
she replied, “that you did not die at Caroline’s
age, for then I should have missed Vol. II. M much M1v 242
much happiness, which your society affords,
and I trust, dear Jane, we may both
live to enjoy more pleasure together.”

Sir Eglamour, who was very fond of
children, tossed and danced it about continually,
being particularly interested for the
pretty Caroline, as he understood it was
the orphan child of a friend that Rose valued.
He was quite enlivened, when the
intelligence of the general and his lady’s
expectation of soon returning was communicated
to him; it inspired the sweet
hope that he would soon have it in his
power to call his lovely friend his own.
With the anxiety of a mind truly attached,
he was apprehensive that if their marriage
did not speedily take place, some unforeseen
event might deprive him of the
dear object of his faithful regard. If the
battalion of his regiment to which he belonged
should unexpectedly be ordered
abroad, he trembled to leave her, unless
their fates were united. He beheld her
admired and loved, even by those of the highest M2r 243
highest rank and fortune, which made him
miserable, till she was irrevocably his.
Devoid of vanity, he was not conscious
that all those who caused him an uneasy
moment were considerably inferior to him
in every respect, and that he had no cause
to doubt her fidelity, who considered him
superior to the whole world, and whose
faith the greatest temptations could not
shake or alter.

Sir Eglamour had lately been deprived
of the felicity of seeing her as often as he
wished, from being engaged on a troublesome
and disagreeable duty. Very great
depredations had been committed in the
neighbourhood, and by the sea-side; houses
and cottages had been plundered, and several
travellers robbed and wounded. Suspicion
was directed to a gang of smugglers,
that had infested the sea-shore and adjacent
places for many years. Sir Eglamour
and his soldiers were employed in watching
and scouring the country for some
miles round, in search of them. Not one M2 of M2v 244
of them had ever been apprehended, and
the party which sir Eglamour commanded
was ordered to be augmented by government,
and to be active in their exertions
to discover the haunts and retreat of these
desperate marauders.

These smugglers were reckoned the
most vigilant and daring band that had
ever been known. It was reported that
they were so ferocious and sanguinary,
that not one of them would be taken without
a furious resistance, which made Rose
very unhappy, fearful any accident might
happen to her lover, as the wretches lay in
ambush, and fired, without being found
out, very frequently at the soldiers.

One day, when Felix was absent at
Morrington Castle, and sir Eglamour engaged
in this perilous duty, which had detained
him from her for some time, Rose
was conversing with Jane, in her retired
apartment, in nearly as melancholy a mood
as herself. It is true, she heard every day
from her lover by his servant; but only a few M3r 245
few hurried lines, that poorly compensated
for the loss of his beloved and captivating
society, and did not reconcile her to the
dangers he was likely to encounter.

Their gloomy conversation was interrupted
by Kamira, who gave Miss Douglas
a note, saying, the gentleman who delivered
it waited in the library for an answer.
Imagine her astonishment, when
she perused the note, to find it was from
colonel Guilford, who said he wished to
have the honour of speaking to her, as he
was afraid, if he had asked incautiously for
her sister first, it would have alarmed her,
as he understood, with sorrow, that she
was not in good health. As Rose perused
this, she felt indescribable horror at the
idea of beholding the man who had been
the cause of Jane’s severe sufferings, and
perhaps eventually her destroyer. Very
reluctantly she arose to go and meet him.
Absorbed in her own melancholy reflections,
Jane did not notice her sister’s trepidation,M3 dation, M3v 246
who, with slow and reluctant steps,
reached the library.

Here she found a person, apparently in
the meridian of life, neither handsome or
ugly, who had a gentlemanly air. He
apologized politely for intruding, after the
deception he had been guilty of, which he
knew was exceedingly reprehensible; but
he hoped she would allow (after an explanation)
that he was not so much to blame
as she had probably hitherto thought.
Rose begged him to be seated, saying, she
should be happy to hear any justifiable extenuation
of a conduct that she feared
would prove fatal to her sister; and as she
pronounced these words, she could not refrain
from shedding involuntary tears,
overcome with excessive depression at seeing
the man who had irreparably injured
poor Jane, and entailed affliction on herself
and family.

He changed countenance, and betrayed
deep emotion at perceiving how much she was M4r 247
was affected, and faltered out, that it would
agonize him to hear that her sister’s life
was endangered. Rose sighed, and said
she hoped not, though she could not repress
the acuteness of her feelings when
she beheld a striking alteration for the
worse every day.

“For Heaven’s sake let me go to her!”
he exclaimed. “Perhaps, when she learns
I repent that I have ruined her peace, she
may forgive me, and it may sooth her to
think I am not so black a villain as I have
appeared.”

Rose secretly flattered herself, that an
interview with him might be advantageous
to Jane, recollecting that she had pined
and mourned, not only for having been
ungenerously deceived, but at his cruel and
unfeeling neglect of her and his child.
Though she detested the sight of this perfidious
man, Rose desired colonel Guilford
to remain in the library till she sent for
him, as she was going to prepare her sister
for the interview he requested.

M4 Rose M4v 248

Rose flew hastily to Jane’s apartment, and
by gentle degrees communicated who was
in the house, and wished to see her. In
the weakened state of her health, this information
had at first an alarming effect, and
hysteric fits shook her fragile form; but
when she recovered, and her agitation was
a little subsided, she consented to see the
author of her ruin.

Rose now dispatched Kamira for colonel
Guilford
, and he was introduced in a
few minutes into the presence of the
young unfortunate creature he had barbarously
injured. Her complexion was
transparent with illness; the blue veins
were distinctly seen in her white temples,
and the most beautiful hectic bloom tinted
her cheek—it was too brilliant for health;
and her large dark-blue eyes, where the
tear of sensibility still glistened, were like
violets glittering with the early dew of
morning.

His frame shook with unutterable sensations
of remorse, at viewing the dreadfulful M5r 249
change, that had occasioned an alteration
in her personal appearance that must
touch every feeling mind; and neither of
them could articulate for some minutes.
When he had recovered fortitude and recollection,
he thus addressed her—“I acknowledge
my behaviour to you has been
very criminal; but I hope you will consider
it as some excuse, that when I was
very young, and quite a soldier of fortune,
I became thoughtlessly entangled with
some worthless brother-officers, who led
me into great dissipation and extravagance.
I was so deeply involved in debt, that I
married a woman of large fortune, much
older than myself, to extricate me from
these severe difficulties. We never lived
happily together, and have been separated
many years. Considering myself, for so
long a period, as a single man, I yielded
imprudently to the impression you made
on me; but I should never have imposed
a pretended marriage on you, had it not
been from the persuasions of Mrs. Pryce, M5 whom M5v 250
whom I liberally paid for her advice and
assistance in this guilty affair. It may be
truly observed, that when a woman is vicious
and unworthy, she conducts herself
with more depravity than the most abandoned
man. I have known her a long
time as the mistress of a particular friend
of mine; and though she committed that
error, I really did not judge her with severity,
nor imagine she was so wicked.
It irritates me to madness, to reflect that
she had dared to so grossly insult you.”

Jane now related to him every particular
of Mrs. Pryce’s insolence and vulgarity,
which she could not clearly and minutely
explain in a letter. This diffuse and
shocking detail of her brutality, which
might have been attended with more fatal
consequences in her then interesting situation,
apparently overwhelmed him with
horror and grief. He assured Jane, while
he expressed his deep concern for what
had passed, that if he became a widower,
and she would deign to accept him, it would M6r 251
would be the whole study of his future
life to make her happy. He likewise, as
an excuse for his ill-temper and violence
when they resided together, confessed that
it proceeded from the gnawings of his conscience,
that constantly reproached him
for the base part he was acting, which
made him churlish and passionate, though
he was severely to be condemned for venting
his discontent and irascible humour
on his innocent victim.

To this penitent confession Jane made
no reply, but began talking of their infant.
Colonel Guilford said he should
very much like to see it, and Jane then
shewed him the picture Rose had painted
of Caroline. He was enraptured with the
infant beauty, and repeatedly kissed it,
entreating, as the greatest favour, that she
would make a copy of it for him. Miss
Douglas
promised she would, and informed
him where Caroline was at nurse, that
he might go and visit his child, as a relation
of its deceased parents. He mentionedM6 ed M6v 252
also, that he should pay the dame for
the expence of the infant being under her
care, which relieved Jane from a great
deal of anxiety.

After more interesting conversation, he
proposed, in the most pleasing and insinuating
manner, that Jane should return
to Hemeridge Cottage, as he thought the
change of air and scene would be of service,
in her critical state of health. She
could there, without any restraint, walk
about the garden and wood, nor fear being
observed by any of her acquaintance,
and he would visit her daily, merely as a
friend, nothing more, as he should not feel
an hour’s peace of mind till her health was
re-established. At Hemeridge he could
frequently take her out an airing in a carriage,
and fetch little Caroline to entertain
her, which would contribute effectually,
he considered, to her complete recovery.

Jane was evidently inclined to comply
with this proposal of colonel Guilford’s,
had not her sister looked expressively at her, M7r 253
her, with a glance that evinced her disapprobation.
Then turning to Guilford,
Rose thus addressed him—“I shall undoubtedly
incur your displeasure for interfering;
but that I must risk, and entreat,
if you have the least attachment and regard
for my sister’s happiness, to refrain
from persuading her to again place herself
under your protection. Your proposition
would ultimately lead to it; be friends,
therefore, at a distance, and do not entangle
yourselves in a situation that will only
end in misery. Should any change occur,
and you find yourself free, you will then
be at liberty to make amends for past misconduct,
and I shall feel delighted to acknowledge
you as a relation. I have a
right to disclose my sentiments, from having
been a severe sufferer in this unfortunate
affair, and from loving Jane sincerely.
This affection makes me solicitous to shield
her from additional misfortune, by not allowing
her, if possible, to commit a second
fault. The first error, caused by inexperiencerience M7v 254
and giddiness, is to be forgiven; but
if she errs again, wilfully and willingly, I
must disclaim her as a sister, and, however
painful, renounce her for ever.”

Colonel Guilford calmly endured her
remonstrances, which she did not expect.
He knew that her observations were just,
and that it would be of little avail to oppose
them at that moment, as Jane was
evidently inclined then to be governed by
her sister’s opinion. He soon after took
an affectionate farewell of Jane, to the
great relief of Rose, who, though she had
summoned courage to address him, was
frightened mentally at what she had said.
She dreaded Guilford’s anger; but her sister’s
virtue and peace were at stake—the
tranquillity and honour of the whole family,
and this gave her resolution, though
trembling, to brace the fury her spirited
behaviour might excite; but, fortunately,
his composure agreeably disappointed her.

Jane thanked her sister for having saved
her, by her sensible interposition, from greater M8r 255
greater evil than she had yet known, adding,
that if she had been persuaded by
Guilford to act erroneously again, she
would have been guilty without an excuse,
and erred with her eyes open. It
was mere want of thought, she observed,
that made her at first not object to his proposal,
which, on reflection, she considered
as exceedingly artful, and was intended,
she suspected, to plunge her into the abyss
of guilt, from which she had happily been
rescued. Jane concluded with saying,
that she wished always in future to be
guided by Rose, and was determined on
every occasion to consult her, as she should
ever distrust her own judgment. From
the period of her interview with Guilford,
her spirits daily grew better, though her
health continued very precarious, from the
shock her constitution had encountered.
It was a consolation to Jane, to discover
that she was not despised or neglected by
the man in whom she had placed unlimiteded M8v 256
confidence, and that he resented and
abhorred the low brutality of Mrs. Pryce.

The native gaiety that distinguished the
disposition of Rose was now restored and
exhilarated by the renewed cheerfulness
of her sister. She had persuaded Jane to
accompany her to the drawing-room, where
the windows commanded a view of whoever
approached the house. No visitors
could enter without being ferried over,
and she would have time to retreat, if any
person called that she did not wish to see.
Rose was conversing, with her usual
sprightliness, as she sat working at one of
the windows, till all at once she ceased
speaking. Jane asked her a question, to
which she did not reply, but starting up,
suddenly exclaimed—“He is come!” and
ran directly out of the room.

Jane approached the window to discover
the cause of this agitation, and smiled
at perceiving sir Eglamour alight from his
horse, which was an explanation of her precipitate M9r 257
precipitate departure and unexpected perturbation.
That she might not interrupt
their felicity, Jane hastily retired, conscious
that the presence of a third person
is gladly dispensed with, when two lovers
have been separated a long time—at least
what appears to them a tedious interval,
when they are sincerely attached. Two
hours she remained alone, without seeing
or hearing any thing of her sister. Tired
of reading and playing on her lute, she
began to wish for her company, as she was
seldom, when at home, so long absent, even
if engaged with the object of her most
tender affection.

While these reflections occupied her
mind, she heard her sister’s well-known
footsteps on the stairs. Rose entered—
but how changed! Vanished was the enlivened
countenance, expressive of purest
happiness and vivacity; her blooming face
was white as the Parian marble, and her
eyes swoln with weeping.—“Few and transient,”
thought Jane, “are the moments of M9v 258
of enjoyment! My sister is destined to feel
they are indeed fleeting.”
Instead of articulating
a single word, she threw herself
on the sofa, and wept anew; then sobbed
as if her heart would break.

“What is the cause of this sorrow?”
asked, Jane, who had never seen her so
suddenly and violently affected before.

“Oh, Jane! he’s gone! he’s torn from
me!—the best, the handsomest, the most
noble and affectionate of men!”

“Whom do you mean?” replied Jane.
“I am astonished to hear you, who have
talked so much about fortitude and resignation,
behave in this vehement incoherent
manner. You betray more weakness
than I could have imagined. This is but
a poor example for me: it is easy, I perceive,
to preach and give advice, when our
feelings are not concerned.”

Jane spoke thus harshly, on purpose to
rouse her from her excessive grief. It
appeared to have an effect, for Rose immediately
dried her tears, and exclaimed, “Whom M10r 259
“Whom could I mean but sir Eglamour?
Do I love another?”

“Once you did—you wept bitterly for
Courtenay’s loss.”

“Was he good, like him I am now attached
to?—would he have sacrificed any
thing for me?—No! but sir Eglamour
would devote his existence—would disgrace
himself—would sacrifice his honour,
brave and virtuous as he is, to please me,
though his character, his integrity, are
dearer to him than life.”

Jane was delighted to think that, by an
appearance of ill-nature and severity, she
had dispelled the agonizing sensations of
anguish that overwhelmed her sister.
When she was restored to composure, she
confessed that the intelligence of sir Eglamour’s
being ordered to embark with
his battalion for Holland in a few days
was the occasion of her frantic sorrow, as
she pictured to herself the dangers he
might have to encounter, which would
perhaps deprive her of him for ever. That agonizing M10v 260
agonizing reflection made her nearly distracted.
Rose added, that in the midst
of her grief Felix entered. Though he
scolded her very much for yielding to
sadness, and having so little resolution,
which made her unworthy to be a soldier’s
wife, he kindly insisted that sir Eglamour
should reside at Treharne during the short
time he was to remain at Exeter, before
he set off on his intended expedition.

In consequence of this invitation from
Felix, sir Eglamour was gone to the city to
make the proper arrangements, and order
what was requisite. In the evening he was
to return to Treharne, where he would
continue till the morning he commenced
his march to the place of embarkation.

Rose concluded with observing, that
the kindness of Felix in inviting her
lover to their house was a balsam to her
wounded bosom.

It was now that Jane assumed the
painful office of comforter to Rose, and
administered that soothing consolation she M11r 261
she had received from her in the moment
of distress. She mingled the tears of sympathy
with her when she wept the approaching
loss of her beloved and excellent
sir Eglamour. Jane represented to
her that this expedition to the coast of
Holland, in which sir Eglamour was engaged,
and ordered to embark with the
rest of the troops, would probably remain
there only two or three months. This
consoling suggestion, which inspired the
hope that he would soon be restored to
her, was the greatest relief to her affectionate
and ardent mind.

Three days did sir Eglamour pass entirely
at Treharne. Too soon did those
delicious hours glide away like an enchanting
dream, though shaded with sad
regret, when occasionally the recollection
obtruded in their moments of exquisite
happiness, that they were shortly to part.
While the lovers were together, it seemed
as if misfortune dared not approach them;
but on the morning of the fourth day, when M11v 262
when sir Eglamour was to quit her as
early as five o’clock, all their felicity vanished,
while the remembrance of the
blissful days they had enjoyed heightened
the pangs of separation; yet each concealed
their sufferings, to avoid increasing the
misery the other felt.

Rose was dressed at four o’clock, and
had breakfast prepared for her lover to
refresh him before he began his march;
but neither of them could eat.

Felix conversed cheerfully on a variety
of indifferent subjects, to divert them from
thinking of their situation. His sister
knew his kind nature, and courageously
checked the convulsive grief that inwardly
rent her agitated bosom; but she would
not trust herself to speak, fearful that her
faltering voice would shake sir Eglamour’s
fortitude. When he was to set out, she
would walk with him and Felix to the
spot where he was to join his men; it
was about a mile from Treharne, by the
side of a road that was on their march, where M12r 263
where his servant waited for him with his
horse.

Before they reached this place of destination,
Miss Douglas heard at a distance
the sound of the drums and other instruments
of martial music. She turned very
pale at these signals, which gave notice of
their approaching separation, and unable,
if she remained longer with her lover, to
suppress the keenness of her feelings, she
told him she should not proceed any farther.
They snatched a hasty embrace,
and not daring to venture a second look
at each other, sir Eglamour pursued his
route with Felix, and Rose returned to
Treharne with Kamira, who had followed
them when they left home, according to
her young lady’s desire.

When they arrived at their ancient
abode, Jane was waiting to receive them,
being anxious to learn how her sister had
supported this trying scene. Rose reclined
her head on her shoulder, and for
the first time indulged her sorrow, weepinging M12v 264
and lamenting the deprivation of her
amiable lover with all the luxury of unfeigned
woe and sincerity of a truly-attached
heart.

Kamira now related to Miss Jane Douglas
with what fortitude and calmness Rose
had behaved, that she might not unman
and afflict sir Eglamour with the sight of
her distress.

Jane praised her for this exemplary behaviour
in the most energetic terms. She
admired a conduct so devoid of selfishness,
that from regard for him conquered the
anguish that oppressed her.

Felix came back in an hour, and likewise
applauded the command over her
feelings, which had spared sir Eglamour
a severe conflict and many torturing sensations.
Her brother also commended the
spirit and sentiments of an Irishwoman,
one of the soldiers’ wives, who, as she
took leave of her husband, exhorted him
to behave bravely for the credit of his
king and country, saying, she would ratherther N1r 265
hear he was dead, than learn that he
had behaved cowardly. Sir Eglamour
and his brother-officers praised her as she
merited, and the soldiers cheered her as
she went off.

Several days had elapsed since the departure
of sir Eglamour, when about twelve
o’clock one night, the moon shone bright
and clear, and all the family at Treharne
Hall
having retired early to rest, were buried
in the arms of sleep. At this period,
when silence and tranquillity reigned undisturbed,
the wheels of a postchaise, at
some distance, were distinctly heard, from
the stillness of the night, rattling rapidly
along. The chaise was driven with swiftness
till it reached the banks of the little
river that meandered till it flowed near
and washed the walls of the old mansion
where Felix and his sisters at present
calmly reposed.

Mrs. Douglas was in this postchaise,
with Mr. Moncrief, a Scotch gentleman, Vol. II. N a particular N1v 266
a particular friend of the general’s, who
being obliged to remain at Edinburgh,
had confided his lady to the care of this
friend. They both arrived, much fatigued,
opposite the habitation of Mrs. Douglas,
from which she had been so long banished.

Eagerly she desired the postillion to
stop, as her heart beat high with rapture
to think she should soon behold her loved
children, and enfold them in her maternal
embrace: but too transitory was this
sweet emotion; consternation, horror, and
affliction, overwhelmed her, when she
viewed aghast, by the light of the moon,
which caused every surrounding object to
be plainly seen, a volume of smoke arising
from that wing of Treharne Hall that
was generally uninhabited. Mrs. Douglas
uttered an affecting cry of anguish and
terror, and while Mr. Moncrief looked at
her with mingled pity and concern, that
side of the building became enveloped in flames, N2r 267
flames, which burst out from the windows.

The conflagration appeared to be spreading
rapidly, and threatened destruction to
the whole edifice, while the red reflection
in the horizon announced that the mansion
was on fire.

Mr. Moncrief implored Mrs. Douglas
to remain in the postchaise. He told the
postillion to alarm the neighbourhood
and procure assistance, for which he should
be well rewarded, and then loudly himself
sounded the bugle. This done, he got
into the boat, and rowing to the Hall
steps, rang the door-bell with violence.
Ponto barked furiously, and these combined
sounds quickly succeeded in rousing
and alarming the family.

Mrs. Douglas heard the piercing shrieks
of her daughters. It was a relief they
were awakened, and would not perish in
the flames, as their apartments were considerably
distant from the wing of the structure N2v 268
structure where the fire commenced,
which appeared to be making greater devastation
than it really had.

End of Vol. II.

J. Darling Leadenhall-Street.