! i m. 3 I ri g INSTRUCTIVE TALES, FOR YOUNG PERSONS, INTENDED TO AMUSE AND INFORM THE YOUTHFUL MIND, COMPRISING, LASCELLS; OR, THE YOUNG SOLDIER. LELAND; OR, THE WANDERINGS OF YOUTHFUL ROMANCE. A NEW EDITION. LONDON: PRINTED FOR JOSEPH WHITE, 48, RATCLIFF HIGHWAY, 1828. LASCELLS- OR THE YOUNG SOLDIER, -> ($y degrees, she recovered sufficient self-possession to inspect the contents of the last sad testimony of the tender concern ever manifested forherbyCapt.Lascells. It was found to contain a legal instrument, by which he conveyed to her a small property he had enjoyed from the age of eighteen, independently of his father; a letter to that nobleman ; and another to herself, explaining the contents and object of the first, and conjuring her, by every tender recollection of their short-lived happiness, to over come grief, and still, were it only for the sake of his intreaties, to be happy. Heavily did the widowed Matilda sigh over expressions, calculated by their very soothings to increase her sense of the irreparable loss she had sustained. Her first care was to obey the deceased in all that she was im mediately capable of rendering obe dience; and she therefore directly dispatched, by a proper messenger, the letter to Lord Lascells. The performance of this slight, but as she considered it, sacred duty, led her to reflect in what way she could best fulfil the remaining desires of the epistles ; for to fulfil them, should it be found in any degree possible, she 8 was determined. With the feeling of hopeless grief, that takes pleasure only in its own indulgence, she consi dered that her now sole prospect of any thing resembling happiness, was in silently pondering upon the virtues and the affection of him who was for ever sundered from her, in some re tired spot, where few would be found to witness, and none to reprove the melancholy to which she was bent to resign herself. Under the influence of such re solves, she became the occupant of the cottage already more than once alluded to ; having, by the advice of a friend, sold the property bequeathed to her for an annuity, from the amount of which she hoped to derive at least 9 the necessaries of life for herself and one servant-girl; and to find an occa sional solace from afflictive thoughts in the society of an amiable couple, a clergyman and his wife, who also re sided near the Blue- Bell Wood, and with whom from early life she had been acquainted. After a residence here of some months, she became the parent of the hero of our tale. This circumstance first gave bitterness to the recollec tion, that she had as yet received no answer to her husband's letter to Lord Lascells; for one chief object of that epistle, she knew, w^as, to pre vail with his lordship to become at least the protector of that innocent pledge of his Matilda's affection. 10 which his fondness anticipated would become the loved image in her arms of himself. Lord Lascells, it was now pretty apparent, intended not to acknowledge his son's offspring; and a mother's natural regard taught her to lament the seemingly inevitable loss to her darling child, of those distinc tions of rank and fortune, to which by birth he was entitled. Thinking that duty to this child required it of her, she then took a step, to which no other considerations could possibly have become an inducement : she se conded the letter of Captain Lascells to the grandfather of her boy, by one, couched in the most appropriate and respectful terms, from herself. To this last letter she received an 11 answer, but from his Lordship's se cretary, not himself. In the haughti est and coldest style, it informed her of Lord Lascells' fixed determination not to believe that his deceased son could ever have so disgraced himself, as to marry one so greatly his inferior in rank : it alluded to the Captain's letter as a well- executed and artful forgery, the hopes of the writer of which would certainly be frustrated ; and ended by the insolent advice, not to give farther trouble to his Lordship on the subject, as all such applications would in future remain unanswered. Matilda clasped the then smiling in fant to her bosom, when she had read this unfeeling and insulting epistle; 12 knd mentally vowed, that never, even at his own earnest request, should that grandsire call him a Lascells ; trusting to render him an equally honourable and more useful character in life, by bringing him up in ignorance that a noblemim was his progenitor, than if she should inspire him with hopes of fortune or grandeur so little likely to be realised. In pursuance of this resolve, she adopted, as her son in creased in years, the plainest style of dress that was consistent with a taste ful neatness; she accustomed herself and him to nearly constant employ ment, occupying the hours that she did not devote to furnishing him with the elements of a plain education, in the humble labours of the dairy and II the spinning- wheel; and, almost from his very infancy, she was perpetually striving to impress upon his mind y that to the exertions of his hands he must in after-life alone look for the means to maintain himself. Young Herbert, therefore, became, as he advanced in years, little other than the plain country boy, in know ledge of the world, and the general range of his ideas; although the assi duous cultivation of his mind by his fond mother, and the constant pre sence of her example, gave a refine ment to his manners not often the attendant of a completely rural education. It was easily to be per ceived too, that his notions on several points were elevated above those of VOL. i. c 14 the rustic lads who were his common playfellows ; that in courage he was greatly their superior, and equally so in nobleness of spirit, and a seemingly innate sense of what was honour able both in sentiment and practice. But with all this, the mistakes of his inexperience, and the follies of his wilfulness, were sadly numerous; and gave far too frequent pain, as has been noticed, to one of the best of parents. In fine, he was a compound of bravery, generosity, honour, rash ness, and folly; and few were the actions of his youth, that could not be plainly traced to this mixture in him of these various but by no means opposite qualities. CHAf. II. IT was a fine morning in June, and young Lascells and his mother were taking a walk together, which had been deprived indeed of its novelty by repetition, but which no familiarity with its natural beauties could en tirely divest of their charms. This walk combined a portion of the Blue-Bell Wood with that of another, separated from the first only by a road, called the Lady's Chapel Wood, in the centre of which stand the ruins of an old chapel, dedicated in Popish times to the Virgin Mary a circum stance from which it derives its name, c 2 16 Through the Lady's Chapel Wood also runs the clear and beautiful stream of the river Wensbech ; and the spot, taken altogether, has many claims to be considered in the light of a more than commonly beautiful and romantic wilderness. In the course of the walk we mention, the follow ing dialogue took place between our hero and his mother. HERBERT. What a strange-looking old ruin is this Lady's Chapel, mother! It al ways makes me feel I can't tell how, when I look at it.- Only I often think I should like to see many such curious old buildings, in other places, I mean places a great way off, perhaps where there may be a great many 17 more of them, and many other curious things, such as we never see nor hear of in these woods, that we've walked in already these hundred times. MRS. LASCELLS. Yes, my love, but such sights are only seen by travellers HERBERT. Then I should like to be a traveller, mother. MRS. LASCELLS. My dear boy, travellers often pay dearly for the knowledge they acquire of what is curious in other countries, at the same time that they are neg lecting to obtain a more useful ac quaintance with things, quite as curi ous and interesting perhaps, that are close to their own doors, at home, c 3 18 I hope, as you will be entirely without the means to become a traveller, that you are disposed to be more wise; and really I cannot blame your curi osity in regard to this singular ruin, the history of which, I doubt not, would prove as instructive as that of many an one, which English tourists have thought it worth their while to write large books about, merely be cause they are to be found in places far distant from w r here they them selves were born. I shall be quite ready to tell you all I know respecting this Chapel; which of course you are aware is a religious foundation; and HERBERT. O, but my dear mother! indeed it is not exactly that no, not about 19 religious foundations that I want to know. I want to to not to walk always in the Blue-Bell Wood, and the Lady's Chapel Wood, and then home, and next day in the woods again. I think I should like at this very moment to be to be MRS. LASCELLS. Yes, any where, I suppose, but at your mother's side, Herbert. HERBERT. O, no, 110; indeed I did not think at all about being away from you, mother. I only meant that now does'nt it seem very foolish? but, indeed, I could'nt tell you in words, at least not just now, what I meant. Mrs. Lascells sighed deeply. She 20 had long before witnessed too many symptoms of that buoyant, sanguine, and aspiring spirit, that possessed her son, to feel at ease when she contrasted it with the path in life, to which her narrow circumstances would render it necessary that he should be confined. The sentiments he had just expressed infinitely strengthened her fears : for the next five minutes of their walk, during which both were silent, she found herself next only to completely mi serable. Herbert also, during the same period, looked greatly more serious than usual: at length he re sumed the conversation thus. HERBERT. Did not my father travel a good deal, mother? 21 MRS. LASCELLS Not much not much [This was said with a rapid but half-choked utterance; as the early fate of Captain Lascells, preventing in a great degree his acquisition of the species of knowledge for which he too had so ardently panted, arose to her memory, and filled her eyes with uncontrollable tears.] HERBERT. There ! now have I asked the very question, that I have been all this while resolving not to ask. And I have made you cry too, as you always have done, when I have talked about my father. Well! what shall I say next? Something just as stupid, 1 dare say. Heigho! this travelling 22 now ! Well, but, dear mother, there must be some people who do not travel just for curiosity sake: for instance, soldiers. Really, I have often thought how much I should like to be a soldier! [At these words Mrs. Lascells became pale as death. She grasped almost wildly the youth's arm ; looked at him as if she would have seen into his soul; and, had not a fresh flood of tears came to her relief, would probably have fainted. Herbert's exclamations at sight of her distress, were passionately fervid.] HERBERT. Mother! dearest mother! what have I said? Do not look so at me: speak to me. Are you ill? What 23 shall 1 do for you? Where shall I run for help ? Mother ! mother ! what can have made you thus? MRS. LASCELLS. O ! my child ! I can scarcely even now think it an illusion, that I saw your father, bleeding, dying, in the field of battle ! And you too to talk of being a soldier! I conjure you, if you value my peace, my life, never again mention in my ears that dread ful subject. HERBERT. O, I will not, my dear mother; never! never! and so now be quite well again directly. I would not be a soldier, to make you look as you did, just now, though but for a moment, no, not for a thousand worlds. 24 MRS. LASCELLS. Well, Herbert, let us return; and say no more about it. HERBERT. That I will not , mother; for I can not bear to see you thus. And yet, to think now, that because a soldier is just talked of, you should make so certain of his being killed in battle directly! Well then, suppose now, only suppose, there should be soldiers wanted, only to wear red coats and accoutrements, and travel about, and march to the fife and drum, and see sights, and never to go away from their country to fight at all, would you mind my being such a soldier as that? MRS. LASCELLS. You almost make me smile. Her- 25 bert, in spite of my melancholy thoughts. Such would be strange soldiers! Yes, I think I may safely promise you, that you may be a sol dier whenever you can be oiie without danger. o HERBERT. And you will promise me that, then? How I should enjoy now for such soldiers to be raised, and for me to pay you a visit by surprise in my regi mentals, while you laughed yourself at being so tricked into consenting to it. MRS. LASCELLS. You are a rattling fellow, Herbert. What a pity it seems, that the world will not permit such light hearts to continue happy! VOL. I. D 26 HERBERT* Well, but mother, now I come to think of it, it does seem strange, as you say, to talk of soldiers and no danger. Besides I really think there must be something like a pleasure in danger after all at least I am much mistaken if I have not sometimes found a pleasure in it. For instance, now; you know, mother, the row of poplars, on one side of the church yard, that are so high they overlook the tower of the church itself. Well, I have been to the top of the tower, and seen a fine prospect to be sure, but that was all : but I did not feel myself animated, and delighted, and I can scarce tell you how at all in comparison as I have felt when 27 1 have climbed nearly to the top of one of those poplars, and there looked down upon the church, while I swung this way and that way with the slender bough MRS. LASCELLS. Good heavens! is it possible? HERBERT. O, yes; and I see at once, Mother, you think there might have been some danger in that. MRS. LASCELLS. O, Herbert! Herbert! how does every day thus bring me some new proof of your unthinking rashness ! HERBERT. Nay, now, mother, surely that was not so very, very rash. D 2 28 MRS. LASCELLS. That I could but cure you of this way of thinking! O, Herbert, that I could but see you confine your thoughts and undertakings to your station in life! HERBERT. Well, mother, you will excuse my saying so, but, really, I cannot perceive what my climbing up a poplar-tree has to do with con fining my thoughts to my station in life. MRS. LASCELLS. That observation would have been extremely rude, Herbert, if its man ner had not been so perfectly re spectful. I will therefore explain myself so far as to say, that I think 29 the country-boy, who seeks danger for the love of it, though but in the most trifling actions, does attempt to soar above the sphere which an all- wise Providence has allotted him. But let us drop the subject; and, before we go home this morning, pay a visit to our kind friends at the rec tory. As they now proceeded in the di rection named, silence was maintained by both mother and son during the remainder of the way. To the worthy Rector, Mrs. Lascells took an oppor tunity to unburthen her mind, as she had often before done, relative to the too evident symptoms of his father's only failings in her eyes, that appeared in Herbert. The good man confessed D 3 30 that he knew not how to advise her in the matter; and could only counsel her to commit her anxieties to the supreme director of all things. At the same time, he commended her care to keep the youth in ignorance of the nobility of his descent, at least until such time as a prospect should appear of his recovering the dues of his birth and rank ; and acknowledged that the most effectual way to hinder his thoughts from taking an elevation not consonant with his circumstances, seemed to be to continue employing him in rural affairs, and frequently re-impressing it upon his mind, that he was born to live and think like an individual, whose occupation was to be labour, and whose lot obscurity. 31 After some conversation on general subjects, to which Herbert was ad mitted, having returned from a con trived ramble in the garden with the clergyman's lady, the mother and son took leave, and returned through the Blue-Bell Wood to their own simple and retired cottage. CHAP. Ill, SOMETHING more than a twelve month had elapsed from the date of the conversation we have related, when the unusual length of time that Herbert was one day gone to Mor- peth, (as he had sometimes before done, by Mrs. Lascell's permission, occasionally at least to vary the scene of his existence,) began to inspire his mother with alarm. Evening came, and he had started considerably be fore noon, and still he was not return ed. As usual, in her troubles and perplexities, Mrs. Lascells now flew to the Rector, to impart her fears, and 33 obtain counsel ; leaving strict instruc tions with her servant to send Herbert after her immediately he should arrive. The Rector was not willing to see anything extraordinary in the boy's protracted absence, and cautioned Mrs. Lascells against the premature indulgence of her maternal terrors. But when night was actually come, and without the appearance of Her bert, he began fully to participate in the anxiety he had at first condemned ; and, after at length escorting the lady to her abode, remained with her till a late hour, with the kind view of sup porting her spirits, and keeping alive hope in her breast, at least as long as he should find it possible to do so. Finally, however, he was obliged to 34 c6nfess the improbability of her son's return that night, and with an afflicted spirit he himself took the way to the rectory. The anguish of suspense endured by Mrs. Lascells, on this, in her sleepless night, it must be unneces sary for us to attempt to describe. It will suffice to inform the reader, that pretty early the following morning, the carrier from Morpeth brought a letter from Herbert, which the charms of a fresh can with an unexpected acquaintance, at a little inn by the road-side, had prevented his deliver ing, as he had solemnly engaged to do, to the youth, on the afternoon of the preceding day. This letter Mrs. Lascells tore open with agitated haste, and read precisely as follows. 35 Morpeth, 12 at noon* DEAREST MOTHER, I have this day availed myself of the promise you gave me nearly a year back in the Lady's Chapel Wood. I am a Soldier, with out danger of having to fight for my bread; or rather, I believe I should say, I am going, for a little while, to play at soldiers. The Recruiting Sergeant for a regiment in the Army of Reserve, with whom I have just entered myself, has explained it all to me, so that I have not been at all rash in what I have done, you may depend upon me. The Army of Reserve, you must know, has been planned for the purpose of getting together a number 36 of young men, and enterprising lads, who are never to fight without the French come; and the French, you know, are such cowards, that they are certain never to come at all. So as I happen to be tall and strong, the Ser geant took me to be eighteen at least, and said that I should do for one ; and finely I have cheated him in it to be sure. And we are never to leave England, or at least only to go to Ireland if we are wanted there, and that will only be like going to a diffe rent part of our own country. I should have just come home to tell you all about it, only the Sergeant said there would not be time, and that as I had your promise to let me be such a soldier as I am going to be, 37 that would be sufficient. And he tells me he has no doubt I shall soon be made a Sergeant like himself; and a Sergeant, he says, is a gentleman; and though you know, mother, you have often told me I had no prospect in life but that of labouring with my hands, I hope you will acknowledge yourself mistaken, when you hear that I have a prospect of being a ser geant and a gentleman. And I sup pose you will hardly know me in my regimentals, when I call upon you in a fortnight's time; for we are only going to Carlisle now, and I shall have liberty then to come and see you, and very often in future too, for as I told you before, we are hardly to be real soldiers, but only an Army of Reserve. I, E 38 So till I see you again, believe me to remain, Dearest Mother, Your dutiful & affectionate Son y HERBERT LASCELLS. P. S. An Army of Reserve means, I believe, an army that is to supply the regular soldiers with fresh troops when they are wanted : but then no one is obliged to become a regular soldier without he chooses it, that is, without he volunteers, and then he gets a great deal of money besides, which they call his bounty. If I were a volunteer, you may be certain I should send you all my bounty directly; for of course I shall have no occasion for money now I am to be kept and cloth ed at the expense of the government. and so many pounds might be of some service to you I daresay. But you may be sure / shall not volunteer, since the remembrance of how you looked in the Lady's Chapel Wood, when I only talked of being a fighting soldier, will be quite sufficient to pre vent my thinking of that. Though I own I should have liked to be a soldier in earnest, if it had not been so very, very disagreeable to you. Farewell, dearest mother, till this day fortnight. Again and again af fectionately, yours, HERBERT LASCELLS. Mrs. Lascell's consternation on the perusal of this letter may be readily supposed. She instantly communi- E 2 40 cated it to the Rector; and that worthy gentleman wanted not to be urged immediately to set out for Morpeth, to see if, upon application to a magistrate there with whom he r was acquainted, any steps could be employed for the immediate restora tion of our youth. He had little doubt, as he informed Mrs. L., that Herbert might easily be recovered by the authority of his friend, if the proper methods could be taken be fore he was formerly entered at Carlisle; and only regretted that, owing to the carrier's delay, time had been given for the military party to gain so greatly the start of the pur suit that should immediately be made. He however assured the lady of his 41 most strenuous exertions, and left her in a state of mind more endurable by far than the agony of uncertainty and suspense, into which she had been at first thrown by the non- appearance from Morpeth of her beloved son. Meanwhile, Herbert, with the Ser geant, and one or two other recruits, were pursuing their way to Carlisle. Their road had at first laid over that wild and solitary tract, which extends between Morpeth and Hexham. However, the walk was enlivened by the beauty of the day, the gay discourse of the Sergeant, and the bright dreams of our youth, that ere long he too would be seen E 3 42 wearing a non-commissioned officer's sash and sword. Their first resting-place was a little pot-house by the road-side, in front of which hung from a branch of an old oak the sign of the King's Head. Beneath the tree were benches, and a sturdy table, at which the travellers needed no invitation to seat them selves. Bread and cheese, and ale, were called for by the Sergeant, who generously intimated that he would be answerable for all expenses; and, as the repast proceeded, so ably did he exert those powers of good-hu moured and entertaining small-talk, seasoned with descriptions of the feli city of the soldier's life, with which he had at first prevailed over our hero's 43 ready credulity, that Herbert thought he had never before met with so en gaging a companion. It is true, his opinion in this respect a little altered, when, on suddenly missing a recruit from his side, our Sergeant, in his first fears that the man had escaped, poured forth such a volley of oaths and horrid imprecations, that Herbert was thunderstruck, and then first began to perceive in himself some symptoms of repentance for having engaged in so wild an expedition. Reflections of a nature not very agreeable, occupied him till the party reached a rising ground, not very distant from the spot where they had halted ; when arrived at which, Her bert involuntarily looked behind him, 44 and saw far off the high country near Morpeth, and made no doubt that the clumps of contiguous trees were the Blue-Bell and Lady's Chapel Woods. The sight seemed to effect a sudden and thorough revolution in his ideas ; for he instantly would have given up all the golden pros pects he had indulged, to have been once more with his mother in the cottage by the wood-side. But re gret, he felt, came too late ; and he summoned up his spirits to proceed, apparently as light-hearted as before, with his companions. But the Sergeant had not failed to notice the change that had taken place in his young charge ; and both on account of it, and of his fears that 45 pursuit would very probably be made after the youth, he urged the party to expedition on their route. Accord ingly they descended at a quick pace the other side of the hill, towards Hexham; which town, as it was so late in the day when they left Mor- peth, they did not however reach till several hours after dark. At Hexham, their accommodations for the night were but indifferent; but this, and all other such disagreeable in cidents, Herbert was of a disposition to make little account of. Rising pretty early the next morning, they had travelled a considerable distance before noon; and, pursuing their walk after dinner with unabated energy, the heat of the afternoon soon began 46 to render repose extremely desirable. The Sergeant therefore proposed, that they should retire for a while to the shade of a little coppice by the road-side; and if they could there get a nap, he said, it would so refresh them that they could more than make up for their lost time in the cool of the evening. All took their leader's advice, and laid themselves down under the trees. It was not long before Herbert alone remained awake, thought preventing his so speedily composing himself as his companions. As he lay, he could easily perceive whatever occurred upon the road, although the foliage was thick enough to screen him and his comrades from the observation of 47 all passengers. The sound of wheels arrested his attention; and immedi ately afterwards a single-horse chaise passed in the direction he was pur suing, in which were seated two gen tlemen, one of whom he knew to be his mother's friend, the Rector. This startled him exceedingly, as he could not conceive the object of the journey of at least one of the parties ; and yet a certain uneasy feel ing at the circumstance prevented his issuing from the coppice to accost them. The fact was, that the Rector was accompanied by his friend the Magistrate of Morpeth; the latter having readily offered his personal services, and the use of his chaise, to assist in the recovery of our vouthr 48 But owing to the wood's enveloping the military party at this unlucky moment, and to other equally un fortunate events, the object of these kind friends of Mrs. Lascells was defeated, as will be seen in the sequel. On the fourth night from their set ting out, having about noon of this day passed the wild black heaths near the Roman Wall, and entered the County of Cumberland, they reached the place of their destination, Car lisle. The Sergeant lost no time in passing Herbert and the other re cruits through the necessary forms; this ceremony taking place early on the day following their arrival. Next day, our hero obtained his uniform, and began to learn his military duty; 49 and when he returned to his quarters at evening, it was not, we will under take to say, with absolute displeasure, that he heard the compliments of his landlady on his handsome appear ance, or observed the confirmation of her testimony presented by a large glass which was suspended in her parlour. Meanwhile, the Sergeant congratulated himself on having brought the regiment a recruit so creditable to his skill in that service ; and indeed was greatly disposed to wonder at his own good luck, in not having had the prize snatched out of his hands by the interposition of the lad's friends. Yet neither had the efforts of those friends been wanting. The Rector, I. F 50 and his associate in the pursuit of Herbert, had easily traced his steps to Hexham; and though they had obtained no intelligence of him much beyond that town, owing to the Ser geant's party taking their repose in the wood, as we have related, they had resolved to proceed even to Car lisle, thinking it possible that by some chance they had passed the youth upon the road, and that at any rate they should be able to take measures at that place to prevent his actual entry into the army. But, owing to information they afterwards received, relative to ano ther recruiting sergeant and his party, whom they erroneously concluded to be those they were in quest of, they 51 directly made the best of their way upon the road to Appleby ; and not discovering their mistake till they arrived at that town, the opportunity of achieving their object was lost irrecoverably. Ultimately, the good Rector returned to Mrs. Lascells without having effected his purpose, to her utter grief and dismay ; while Herbert was encountering the mingled impressions produced upon his mind by scenes, faces, and a manner of life entirely strange, and, before many days had been spent in Carlisle, was betrayed into a step he had neither intended nor anticipated as a possi bility. But his further history will most properly be pursued in our next following chapter. F 2 CHAP. IV. THE first time Herbert appeared upon parade, he went through his evolutions so greatly to the satisfac tion of his officers, that he received unusual praises; whilst his uncom monly good figure, and open martial air, created an universal impression in his favour. The Sergeant too continued to ply him with flatteries ; for, as it now began to appear, he had a still further design upon our youth, and this was to get him to volunteer from the Army of Reserve to the troops of the line. With this design, he was continu- 53 ally lamenting in his presence that so fine a lad should be deprived of the opportunity of making a figure in the world ; adding that in the King's ser vice he would infallibly be promoted before he was many weeks older, and that a young fellow better calculated to do honour to his Majesty's troops, and shine as an officer, he had never had the luck to clap eyes on. All this, however, produced nothing in Her bert, but the wish that his engage ments to his mother had left him free to follow the dictates of his inclina tion: he constantly replied, that no body had ever a greater desire to follow the profession so strongly re commended, and that he himself believed he should soon rise in the F 3 54 regular army ; but, at the same time, that duty to a parent, and the obli gation of his promises, forbade it. The Sergeant would either affect to laugh at these scruples, or endeavour to prevail with him by arguments against them; but he had the morti fication to find that his efforts of every kind were without avail, and that his only resource was in a plan, which in such cases has but too generally proved successful. Ten days had now transpired since their leaving Morpeth, and the mor row would bring that, upon which, agreeably to the Sergeant's specious promises, our hero was to be allowed leave to set out from Carlisle to visit his mother. The Sergeant, at the time he made this promise, well knew that it would not be in his power to keep it ; but as the youth still dreamt of nothing else than its exact per formance, his deceiver became the more earnest to dispatch his designs, since the discovery of his duplicity w r ould no doubt overturn all his influ ence with Herbert. On the morning of the day at which we are arrived, therefore, meeting the youth upon his customary walk after parade, under the Castle walls, he accosted him in his usual gay, good-humoured style, and, after a few general re marks, ended by inviting him to meet a few brother non-commissioned offi cers at his lodgings to supper. Her bert frankly accepted an offer, that 56 apparently at least was so frankly made, being chiefly flattered by the idea of finding himself alone, of all the privates of the regiment, considered company for his superiors in mili tary rank. At the appointed hour he reached the Sergeant's lodgings, and found the non-commissioned officers al luded to already arrived. He was received with distinguished signs of welcome, and could not perceive that he was looked upon by any one pre sent in the light of an inferior. The supper was substantial, the ale exhi larating, the company merry, and all the talk about the pleasures and per petual variety of the soldier's life. The meal ended ; pipes and grog 57 were produced. Herbert refused to smoke, having never taken a pipe into his lips in his life ; which how ever he did not choose to say, think ing perhaps the confession would be derogatory to his dignity as a sup posed stripling of eighteen. The grog he did not so steadily object to partaking of; and its effects, uniting with that of the ale, were soon pretty apparent in one so totally unac customed to strong liquors of any kind. Need we enlarge in our description of this scene? The result was that which takes place in the case of nearly all raw recruits situated as was Herbert : drinking was continued to a late hour ; the youth was completely 58 overcome by it, and by the fumes of the tobacco from his companions; and in a state almost of stupefaction gave his consent to volunteer for the s service. At the usual time next morning, and before the effects of the liquor had subsided, he was led to be sworn in, and receive his bounty; after the performance of which ceremonies, his gay comrades left him to reflect upon all the conse quences at his leisure. Scarcely conscious of what had occurred, Herbert staggered home to his quarters, and needing no induce ment after setting up all night to throw himself upon his bed, was soon sunk in the most profound repose. Jle knew not exactly how long he 59 had slept; but he was awakened by the roll of the drum for evening parade, and in the first confusion of his senses was unconscious whether he was at Morpeth or Carlisle, at military quarters or in the Blue-Bell Wood. The reality forced itself upon his mind with the jingle of his bounty money, as he first turned and then sat upright on his bed : he sat for the few following seconds, while the loud roll of the drum still continued, an image of blank despair. His fond mother, the cottage of his nativity, the woods whose pleasant walks he had so recently despised, all rushed upon his memory, connected with the idea that he was parted from them, perhaps, for ever. 60 In the bitterness of self-reproach, he next remembered his so solemn engagements to the most affectionate of parents, not to take the very step into which he had allowed himself to be seduced; and, for the first time, he seriously felt remorse for having quit ted Morpeth without obtaining his mothers consent. In fact, his con duct in this instance now first pre sented itself to him in its true light, as a most imprudent, unwarrantable, and undutiful proceeding, to which the conversation with his parent in the Lady's Chapel Wood afforded so very slight a sanction, that he wondered how he had ever been led to conceive of it as any sanction at all. The glimpse he had had of the V worthy Rector on the road then re curred to his fancy, and he directly saw that the only object of that good man's journey must have been his restoration to the arms of his mo ther. The affliction doubtless en dured by his mother herself during his absence was next contemplated, and oh ! with how much agony ! He was actually in tears when the false Sergeant entered his apartment, and in a tone of sharpness which Herbert had never before noticed in him, asked if he could not hear the drum? Herbert looked at him at first with some surprise; but this harshness had a better effect ilpon him than would the most opposite conduct; it seemed the signal for I. G 62 him to summon up his fortitude, and he was, however young, of that lofty tone of character, which could best enable him to obey the call. With out speaking, therefore, he again looked at the Sergeant with dignity, through the tears which he attempted not either to wipe away or to conceal, while he evinced by action his imme diate readiness to accompany him. The expression of his countenance was that of a high and generous spirit, betrayed into conduct it repented by the arts of a mean and little one ; its sorrow seemed purposely retained for reproach to its betrayer; its forti tude told him that it could bear the worst, however unprepared. The Sergeant himself appeared struck, 63 and even touched by something like remorse, at the noble bearing of the young recruit; and muttering, that the muster-roll of the regiment to which Herbert now belonged, with his name included, would be called in a few minutes, but that he (the Serjeant) would procure his excuse, as he had only entered that morning, he was about to depart alone. But Herbert manfully told him, that he was as ready to pass muster as him self, and they hastened together to the Castle- Yard. Herbert answered with the most cool composure to his name, and went through his part on parade with the steady promptitude of a veteran. After their exercise, the command to o 2 64 form squares by companies gave an emotion to the whole regiment; as this evolution was never performed but for the purpose of hearing gene ral orders, either for a march, or in relation to some matter of consider able military importance. The orders were read, and were found to contain peremptory instructions for every man to prepare himself to leave Carlisle at day-light next morning ! Thus, before he had completed his sixteenth year, was Herbert Lascells, as a consequence of a single indis cretion, a momentary forgetfulness of the deference due from a son to a parent, engaged for life to a profesr sion, of the real difficulties and hard- ships of which he Jiad not an idea, 65 about, as it appeared, immediately to enter into the full career of his future employments, it might be, in another and distant country! Reader! be ware! The errors of Herbert were not of a common kind. They sprung, it is true, from a seemingly inborn disposition to rashness and impru dent enterprise; but it was his in genuous and unsuspicious nature, that at Morpeth first afforded the wily Sergeant a handle wherewith to convert them to his purposes. Her bert had no tendencies towards the sickly sensibilities, and feverish rest- lestnesses, of what is commonly called romance; his proneness to ac tion arose from the native energies of a vigorous mind, and a frame as G 3 66 vigorously constituted. Beware, then, reader, whatever be your sta tion in life, lest, if ever situated like Herbert, your conduct should be as blameworthy, and yourself unprovi^ ded with as good excuses for it lest its effects should be as severe, and your fortitude unequal like him to sustain them. CHAP- V. HERBERT spent the brief hours allotted him for preparation, in penning an epistle to his mother, most penitentially informing her of his having been surprised into be coming a regular soldier, and inclosing his bounty money for her use. But his letter was much more than this. When contrasted with that received from Morpeth, it seemed at first im possible that it should have been penned by the same writer. Instead of the childish tone, the simple cre dulity, elation, and extravagance of hope, so manifest in the first, it exhi- 68 bited a strong sense of having acted wrongfully, together with the sin- cerest sorrow for having become a source of affliction to his parent, and the firmest resolves bravely to bear all the consequences that should at tach to his own person. It was can did, manly, sensible, and resigned; appearing the language of one, to whom less than a fortnight's experi ence, followed by self-repentance, had singularly given the wisdom which is not always reaped from years. In fine, this letter gave all the balm to the wounded spirit of his mother, that it was at the moment capable of receiving; for having, since the Rec tor's return without her son, given herself up to despair, fearing his 69 . death, or even worse, the assurance that he was still alive, to whatever dangers about to be exposed, impart ed something like a feeling of com fort. The steadiness of character, that ran throughout the epistle, could not fail also most pleasingly to sur prise her; and in spite of herself, the prospect painted by Herbert of his returning home, and that ere very long, with honour and promotion, seemed to rise before her like a vision of happiness for the future. And as, though her son informed her of his immediate departure from Carlisle, probably for the Continent, it was out of his power to state the actual place of his destination, it immediately ap peared that all farther efforts used 1 70 for his recovery, must, from the un certainty in what quarter to employ them, be fruitless: and this convic tion gave her a resolution derived, like Herbert's, from necessity, to look forward with resignation to whatever might henceforth be his fate, The regiment, at the hour arrang ed, was equipped, and took the road to the coast. Here transports were in readiness to receive them, and the whole embarked, with a fair wind, for Portsmouth; where they were to land, and be re-shipped, for what part of the world they w r ere not as yet in formed. During this comparatively short voyage, Herbert had sufficient experience of what it was to be con fined within a very small space, 71 which there was no escape, with pro* ifligate and abandoned men, and i coarse, if not vicious women. He ^learned what it was besides, to lounge away long and weary days on a ship's deck in the same society, and to sleep at night in darkness and noisome air, amidst numbers of such, below. But he bore these inconveniences with the temper of a martyr, thinking them a just punishment for his treatment of so excellent a mother, and only long ing to be able to lose the sense of what he now suffered in the services of the ' tented field. 5 On arriving at Portsmouth, the soldiers were marched to Hilsea Bar racks, near that town ; and many days had not here elapsed, before young 72 Lascells, whose superiority to the general run of private soldiers, had very early become apparent, was pro moted to the rank of Corporal. A few days afterwards, the company to which he was attached, was embarked on board an East Indiaman; and the remainder of the regiment being dis tributed in other vessels, the whole set sail for the East Indies. With a depression of spirits, Her bert found himself unable to subdue, he seated himself on the forecastle of the Indiaman, and continued there for several hours, a prey to his melan choly reflections. He had found time just prior to his embarkation, to send a third letter to Mrs. Lascells, appri sing her of the quarter of the globe to - 73 which he was to be dispatched ; and his thoughts continued for some time in unison with the subject-matter of his epistle, and the person to whom it was addressed. On the last account alone, we need not wonder that they were tinged with an uncontroullable sadness. The passage through the Needles, which are high pointed rocks near the coast of the Isle of Wight, and the views of that lovely island itself which appeared from the deck of the vessel, gave a little relief to the general turn of his contemplations. For some time the ship traversed the waves so close under the island, that he could count the trees nearest the waters edge, and could trace the i. H 74 windings of the lanes and hedges. But when the trees, the buildings, and the shores of Old England gradu ally receded from his sight when the thought arose, that he might now be viewing for the last time the coun try of his birth, the land that contain ed all that was dear to him tears forced their way to his eyes in spite of his most heroic resolutions. We pass over the particulars of this voyage, which lasted five months, but was attended with nothing re markable. At the end of that time, the ship anchored in Diamond Har bour, which is no other than one of the mouths of the great Indian river Ganges; and the regiment immedi ately proceeded in boats up the stream 75 to Calcutta. The transition to these boats from the unwholesome close ness of the ship, was extremely agreeable to Herbert, notwithstand ing the heat of the climate, to which all were necessarily much exposed upon their passage. Calcutta was found by several to be a much handsomer and more spacious town than they had expected to meet with out of England ; and Fort Wil liam, in which the regiment was sta tioned, is really a series of noble buildings and fortifications, all of white stone, and containing several fine squares, decorated with gravelled walks and rows of trees. Native servants here attend all Europeans; so that even the private English sol- H 2 76 dier is in many respects a gentleman in comparison with his situation in his own country. As for Herbert, being very shortly raised to a Ser- geanfs Post, he enjoyed a proportio nate share of these advantages; and his birth, or lodging, was fitted out in what he deemed a handsome manner; containing, amongst other articles after the manner of the coun try, a set of varnished and splendidly gilt chairs; a table of sesoo wood, which resembles our mahogany; and a carved and ornamented bedstead of the same material, hung with the finest white muslin curtains. After some little time spent in a manner that was only wanting in activity to complete Herbert's satis* 77 faction, the regiment was ordered to Dinapore, an European station upon the Ganges, about six hundred miles above Calcutta. This expedition was to be performed in large boats, thatch ed over for the accommodation of the men, and they were expected to arrive at the place of their destination in about four weeks. Accordingly, they set out, and proceeded a certain number of miles every day; after which, all were allowed to scatter themselves over the country, at their discretion, provided that they return ed by a stated hour in the evening. Herbert had many opportunities on these occasions, of observing the very primitive manners and customs of the inoffensive but superstitious Hindoos; H 3 78 as well as of remarking the most curious natural productions of the country. Among the latter, he in cluded the various kind of palm trees, known by their long and slender shafts, crowned with tufts of broad and glossy leaves ; the bamboo, which in appear ance somewhat resembles the English willow; and the mangoe, which pro duces an extremely fine fruit, and bears a blossom that scents the air with a perfume, reminding him of that of the primroses growing on the hedge-banks round his native woods. The Barracks atDinapore are regu lar and handsome buildings of white stone, consisting of two large squares, which contain most convenient ranges of apartments for the officers, and 79 long and spacious halls, in which the private soldiers and non-commis sioned officers are lodged with the greatest comfort; the latter enjoying the advantage of possessing what are called the corner births, which they have the means of rendering quite private. The buildings are all of a single story, and have many high and arched windows, fitted up, on account of the heat of the climate, not with glass, but green lattice-work. The areas of the squares, and the walks surrounding them, are kept extreme ly neat ; so that every thing in the way of external appearance, and in ternal convenience, is provided for the European soldier at this station. The soldiers were indeed uncom- 80 monly pleased with these barracks, after their long confinement to the thatched boats; and Herbert not less so than the rest. In his birth at Dinapore, he lived with even more magnificence than at Calcutta; and his good mother, doubtless, would have smiled, had she been able to observe our hero seated at his meals, and practising some little airs of state, while his black man stood officiously behind him, keeping off the flies with a fan, or chowry, as it is called in that country. To observe the varieties of the place, he occasionally crossed by a little bridge in rear of the Barracks to the Bazar, or Black Town, inha bited by people who obtain their sub- 81 sistence by providing the soldiers with provisions and other necessary articles". This town forms a striking contrast to the habitations of the Europeans, as it consists entirely of mud huts, without either windows or chimnies, ranged in little narrow streets, in the midst of which are stalls covered with a variety of wares, such as pottery, fruits and vegetables, brass vessels, chintzes and muslin, painted umbrellas for the sun, curious shoes, beads, trinkets, &c. Near the Bazar, are a few larger and better houses, some occupied by rich natives, and others by English gentlemen; and the gardens and open spaces around are planted with the luxuriant trees peculiar to the climate. 82 At last, this state of indolent repose was exchanged for what young Las- cells infinitely preferred, namely, ac tive service. War broke out in India, several of the native princes rising in arms against the English government, and the troops at Dinapore were ordered to join their countrymen in all haste. And now Herbert had an opportunity of exhibiting to advan tage, and in their appropriate sphere, the high and daring qualities with which Nature had invested him ; but which, in his present situation, sur rounded by luxurious softness, en dangered by youth, and unprotected by parental guardianship, a little more inaction might have urged to vicious pursuits. 83 We will not follow him through his various campaigns in India, except to relate his successive and rapid pro motions in the army. After the very first battle, his gallantry and good conduct having been particularly re marked by the Governor who was present, he was made an Ensign on the field. Shortly afterwards he be came Lieutenant, and then Captain; and just previously to the termination of the war, was raised to the command of a regiment. All this occurred be fore he was quite of age; although, as already remarked, he looked several years older than in reality he was. But we must quit him for a short time, to return to Mrs. Lascells, in her cottage by the Blue-BellWootL CHAP. VI. SUCCESSIVE returns of the India fleet had not failed regularly to bring Mrs. Lascells letters from her son. But the last fleet had brought no tidings from Herbert; owing, though the lady was unacquainted with the fact, to the circumstance of his having been engaged in active hostilities with the enemy, in the interior of the country, when it sailed. The dread that he had fallen in battle, like his father, or by the fatal diseases of the climate, immediately therefore took possession of her mind ; and she was a long time inconsolable for his sup- 85 posed loss. The good Rector in vain attempted to convince her that her fears were unreasonable, or at least premature; her husband's fate had left an impression on her mind, that made an early death appear but the natural consequence of the military profession, and she could not be per suaded to indulge a hope of ever more seeing her beloved child. One fine summer evening, just as the sun was setting behind the hills, the Rector and his lady were sitting beside her near her cottage door, and endeavouring to revive hope in her almost totally despairing breast. As they conversed, the shade of a tall figure suddenly flitted across the casement, and the figure itself, ha- J. i 86 bited in a long blue military coat, and a slouched hat, drawn far over the face as if for concealment, as hastily was presented at the open door. The ladies mutually exhibited some symptoms of alarm ; which the stranger perceiving, with the excla mation of " Mother!" he directly pulled of his disguise, and discovered to all the robust and finely- formed person, in full military uniform, of Colonel Lascells. Mrs. Lascells fainted, in her first emotions of joy and surprise; but, being speedily recovered, awoke to all the happiness of the fond mother, delighted with the endearing em braces of her darling son. The mutual explanations that took place, 87 and the felicity manifested in the countenances of all, we need not describe. The congratulations of the Rector and his lady were as ardent as they were sincere ; and a full hour was spent in continued expressions of the satisfaction and enjoyment experienced by all present. When the warmth of these first emotions had somewhat subsided, the conversation naturally turned upon the intentions of Colonel Las- cells, relative to his future pursuits in life. He replied: "I love my profes sion, and have neither wish, nor de sign, under existing circumstances, to quit it. Could I indeed see my mother placed in that rank of life, i 2 88 and surrounded with that affluence, which I have learnt are but her rights, I should think it my duty, for her sake, and in consideration of my having become a soldier contrary to her expressed wishes, to leave the army now that I find myself again in my native country, and devote the rest of my days, as a too easy penance for my fault, to her happiness at home. But since Providence appears to have thrown me in the path, by pursuing which I shall probably acquire fortune, and perhaps personal nobility, in lieu of that nobility of birth of our title to which we seem to be deprived, I hold it equally my duty not to pause in my career, at least until I have provided an honourable competence 89 for the future years of the parent, to whose affection I owe so much." Tears of tenderness and joy, mixed however with the apprehension of again losing her son, started into the eyes of Mrs. Lascells. " O, my Her bert!" she exclaimed, " could I but prevail with you never, never more to quit our Northumbrian woods, your mother, and the country of your birth ! Be assured that I am content with my present station, and shall be completely happy while blest with the knowledge of your safety. But, if you again seek the dangers of the soldier's life ! O, Herbert, will you then suffer your mother throughout her existence to be the prey to the anxieties she must feel, while any dear I 3 90 to her are daily exposing themselves to unheard-of hardships, to disease, to wounds, to death? " Could I but see you in the pos session of your clues, my dearest mother, I would not/' replied the Colonel. " A bargain! and I am witness;" good-humouredly exclaimed the Rec tor: " who knows even yet what may happen?" And as he spoke, a chaise and four was seen descending the road down the hill-side, with the speed almost of light, and it rivetted the attention of all until it stopped directly opposite the cottage-door. Before the party could recover from their surprise, a gentleman, dressed in black, darted from the 91 vehicle, and enquired for Mrs, Lascells. She tremulously informed him that she was the person he had named. The stranger bowed. " You will excuse my abruptness," he said, " but the business upon which 1 am come is important, and requires dispatch. I am executor under the will of the late Lord Lascells" but, pausing, he continued, " perhaps you had re ceived no intelligence of his lord ship's death?" Mrs. Lascells faintly (for a thousand mingled sensations rushed at once upon her) replied, that she had not. The stranger again bowed. " Ma dam," he went on, " it is then my duty in the first place to apprise you 92 of that circumstance; and next to state, that his eldest son having died on his travels abroad, his lordship has bequeathed his property, upon proof made that you are the lawful widow of his second son, also deceased, to the celebrated Colonel Lascells, whose exploits in India have rendered him so famous, (these are the words of the will, my dear madam,) upon proof also made that the said Colonel Lascells is the legitimate descendant of his said second son." " I have documents to prove both in my possession," cried the Rector, starting from his chair, while Mrs. Lascells, overcome by her emotions, sunk to her's. "And," continued the warm-hearted gentleman, "most hap- 93 pily, Colonel Lascells is now present, to hear from your mouth of his good fortune." The Colonel rose. The legal gen tleman, for such it now sufficiently appeared he was, bowed infinitely more profoundly than before. " My Lord" said he, " I shall execute the remaining duties imposed upon me, whenever I am honoured with your lordship's commands." The first impulse of Lord Lascells, for this title we also must now give our hero, was most tenderly to em brace his mother, and assure her that the promise he had but just made her, under such little expectation of what had since happened, should be sa credly observed. As soon as a toler^ 94 able degree of calmness again pos sessed the party, they all proceeded to the Rectory, where the documents mentioned by the good clergyman were produced, to the entire satis faction of the late Lord Lascells' executor, and not less so, it may be presumed, to that of all present be sides. And it was agreed, before the company separated for the night, that all should proceed, on the day fol lowing, to make the final arrange ments, at Lascells Castle. Let the reader conceive of Lascells Castle, then, as the future residence of Herbert, Lord Lascells, and his mother. By years of desert, crowned with glory, he had amply compensated for the leading error of his youth ; and 95 both he and Mrs. Lascells were, as [they deserved to be, through their [future lives, as happy as perhaps it is ever permitted mortals to become in this world. And it was 110 incon siderable addition to the felicity of both, that Lord Lascells, soon after he was put in possession of his title, married a young lady of equal rank, and of singular beauty and accom plishments; while their children in herited the virtues, not less than the wealth, of their parents, and were universally admired and beloved in that part of Scotland where they resided. LELAND: OR THE WANDERINGS OF YOUTHFUL ROMANCE. -..- CHAP. I. " How can you tell me Romances are hurtful reading sir?" said the young Augustus one morning to his Tutor, when the latter, upon enter ing the study, found his pupil busy over the 4 Mysteries of Udolpho,' instead of the problem in Euclid, the solution of which should by that time have been ready. " Look, sir," con tinued the youthful enthusiast, " ut I. K 98 this fine passage, so full of senti ment and devotion, describing the feelings of , produced by the tranquil beauty of a summer's evening!" " Look at your Euclid, sir," was Mr. Mason's reply. But seeing the tears start into his pupil's eyes at this reproof " My dear Augustus," said the perhaps too indulgent Tutor, " should I once more pardon your inattention to my orders, and forgetfulness of your appointed lessons, may I trust that it will be for the last time? Augustus was silent; it is to be feared from pride ; his eyes still wan dered to the half-open page of his favourite * Mysteries,' though his 99 hand was extended to the detested Euclid. " Shew me the passage you are so charmed with," said Mr. Mason, kindly. Augustus eagerly pointed to it. " Sentiment and devotion!" re^ peated the Tutor, when he had perused it: " the consequence, as you truly observe, of our heroine's witnessing the beauties of a fine summer's evening: and I find re^ flections very similar upon a fine morning. Pray, my young friend, have you been able to discover a rainy night, or a foggy morning, in the whole volume?" Augustus stared. " And yet," continued Mr. M f K 2 100 " though we rarely find bad weather in romances, this work-day world, as it has been called, of ours, abounds with it: arid sentiment is as rational, and devotional feelings as proper, I should imagine, in rain as in sun shine." The Tutor paused: but no obser vation escaping from his pupil, for in truth this reasoning was of a nature to which his mind was too little ac customed, he proceeded: " You are in your thirteenth year, Augustus Leland. You have think ing powers, and talents for expres sing yourself, somewhat beyond your age ; together with abilities for study, adequate to the acquisition of almost any species of learning, Yet, owing 101 to your not having followed that course of study my experience enabled me to point out you, your mind is ex cited, heated, rather than improved, by what it has acquired; and is in danger, indeed, of being debased, and ruined, through the pernicious luxury of romance-reading. The youth was now, though not with the best possible grace, again recurring to his Euclid ; but, with a good-natured smile, Mr. Mason pre vented him. " No, turn to your admired description in the romance," said this gentleman: " we will make that the subject of this morning's lesson." Augustus complied, though with a look of still greater surprise than before. K 3 102 " 1 have observed," said Mr. M., taking up the book, " that the reli gion of romances consists almost en tirely in the mere indulgence of our natural feelings, aroused by obser vation of a fine prospect, or the glories of the rising and setting sun. Yet such feelings, my dear Augustus, experience has shewn us, are power less to sustain us in the actual prac tice of our religious duties, and, when indulged beyond their rational and just bounds, but little conducive to our after peace." Augustus now spoke, and some what abruptly : nay, he so far forgot himself as to reply by some rather pert observations, in defence of his fa vourite authors ; observations, evinc- 103 ing far too much confidence in his own judgment, and too little deference for that of his Tutor. These Mr. Mason very properly reprehended. " I have endeavoured, sir," said he, his countenance assuming an ex pression of severity, " observing the species of reading to which unfortu nately you are so much attached, to warn you betimes, and lead you from the flowery path of fancy and over-refined feeling, into the high road of well settled principle. I re gret exceedingly to say, that hitherto my efforts have been as ill seconded by parental authority, as unimproved by your obedience. But, for the future, depend on me, no exertions shall be wanting on my part, by 104 means of a strict enforcement of those studies to which you are fool ishly so averse, to moderate your conceits and high-flown feelings, while I would strengthen and exalt your principles." So saying, Mr. Mason left our hero (a hero literally in his own opinion) to meditate on what had passed, un til the hour when study would next require their meeting. CHAP. II. FROM a sentence which escaped Mr. Mason at nearly the close of the last chapter, it may be conjectured that his authority over young Au gustus was not remarkably well esta blished; a circumstance for which it now becomes our duty to account, as well as to narrate some particulars in the previous history of the youth, of importance to the proper understand ing of his present character and fu ture adventures. Leland was the only son of a doat- ing mother, who had been left, soon after the birth of a younger female 106 child, in the state of widowhood. Unhappily, therefore, he never had known the kind severity of a father's care; and his errors had not been checked, because not properly un derstood, by his all-indulgent mater nal parent. The family seat w r as the remnant of an ancient castle, situated on the banks of the meandering Wye : it had formerly been a place of strength, and the predecessors of the Lelands had exercised within it the amplest baronial sway: the moat which had once surrounded it could be distinctly traced, and vestiges of a draw-bridge and portcullis were yet visible at the principal entrance. Add to these circumstance, that the country around w r as retired, thickly 107 wooded, and almost without a neigh- bourhood; and the only associates of the youth, his mother, sister, pre ceptor, and their few domestics ; and ! the growth of his earliest and strong est propensities will scarcely excite wonder. It must be recorded too, that the nearest town, that of L could boast an established Circula ting Library, to which Mrs. Leland was a regular subscriber, and was as Tegular supplied with box-loads of its contaminating trash. The vo lumes thus periodically received, Augustus was allowed to peruse without prohibition or restraint, to the neglect of every serious employ ment, and in opposition to the re peated remonstrances of his accom plished and conscientious Tutor. 108 True it is, Mrs. L. had never the remotest intention of filling with hurtful and ungovernable notions the bosom of her darling son. She esti mated romance-reading by her own experience of its effects; and could not be made to believe, that what was to her the mere amusement of a solitary hour, could possibly become the source of danger to any mind, however young, or however diffe rently constituted. Faithful to this idea, she insisted that Leland's evi dently increasing irritability of feeling, his restlessness, and seeming anxi eties about he knew not what, were all the consequences of the dry les sons of Mr. Mason; and would con stantly end her rather frequent ha rangues upon the subject, by asking 109 Augustus, if present, whether he had yet read < The Hermit of the Grot/ 6 The Black Knight and the Demon/ or < The Secrets of Kenelm Tower?' It had long required the exertion of the Preceptor's utmost prudence and address, to prevent an open rupture with the mother, w r hile ad ministering the instructions required of him to the son. Weary at length of this incessant contest with the maternal authority, and foreseeing the ruin of his pupil from the farther indulgence of his fatal habits, Mr. M. now resolved to obtain Mrs. Le- land's support of that system of in struction he had acquainted Augus tus with his determination to enforce, or otherwise to give up his employ- I. L 110 ment. For this purpose, he waited on Mrs. L. the following morning in the breakfast parlour, when the dia logue we here repeat took place be tween them. After a few general observations upon indifferent subjects, and upon education, " I am sorry, Madam," commenced the Tutor, " to inform you that Augustus disappoints me much, by the slow progress he makes in the studies likely to be most useful to him." " Bless me! Mr. Mason, why, my dear boy is accounted a prodigy by all who know him that is, whenever he is in spirits to unbend from that pensive way of his, which I must own is not always becoming to him." Ill " He knows sufficient, Madam, to be able to talk upon many subjects which he does not really understand ; and it would not surprise me to find that such a youth should have the dexterity to astonish the illiterate, at the very time that he must be pitied by the sagacious and well-informed." " O! now I understand you, Sir. You would have the boy quite moped to death as he partly is already by learning Geometry, and Algebra, and Mechanics, and such low stuff. As to all which, I must however once more beg it to be understood, that 1 consider a sort of polite smattering amply sufficient for him." " But, Mrs. Leland, a polite smat tering in Mathematics, and the Sci- L 2 112 ences, will not cure him of those defects of character, which a tolera ble proficiency in those studies would have a powerful tendency to remove. And, Madam" " And, Sir, I do entreat that you will not addle the lad's brains, nor damp his sweet sensibility, nor de stroy his exquisite taste, by forcing him to pursuits that are not conge nial to him. My boy has genius, sir; and the most charming talent for invention." Mr. Mason shook his head. " Nay," resumed the lady, " it was but the other evening I caught him myself, in one of his musing fits, composing extempore, and reciting aloud looking all the while at the 113 moon then over the ruined turret a tale of a valorous knight, and a fair lady confined in the Gothic keep of an old castle, that would have done honour to the writer of the < Fay of the Rock' herself. And, to speak plainly, Mr. Mason, 1 would not have this enchanting talent of his discou raged, for the sake of all the sciences your wisdom may be able to teach him." " Then, Madam, though most un willingly I speak it, my duty compels me to apprise you, that, since 1 can not submit to bear the responsibility for consequences which I predict, while you deprive me of the neces sary power to obviate them, I must L 3 114 decline the farther superintendence of your son's education." " Sir! Mr. Mason! can you mean" - The lady was unable to proceed ; for she was even more hurt than surprised at this unexpected declaration. " Will you allow me, my dear, Mrs. Leland," said Mr. M., " to inquire whether you intend literally to follow his dying father's injunctions, in put ting Augustus to some honourable trade?" - " That his father's oldest friend, that you, who have been a second father to him, should at last think of deserting us" almost sobbed out Mrs. Leland. " Pardon me, my good Madam. 115 Your serious answer to my question may prove the means to effect a re moval of those obstacles, that other wise must prevent my continuance with you." " His father certainly desired it: and distressing as it is to reflect, that my boy in that case will be the first to disgrace his noble ancestry" " To disgrace!" repeated Mr. Mason. " Yes, alas!" said Mrs. L., I fear the continued impoverishment of our estate for you know, my friend, it has been impoverished by successive generations must compel Augustus to find some means of retrieving our finances, or else that he will one day see an aged mother, and helpless 11G sister, surrounded by the bitterest evils of poverty and distress.' 5 " Then, surely, my dear Madam" " But pray," interrupted Mrs. Le- land, " do not inform the dear boy as yet that he is designed for trade: for, young as he is-, he shews such a charming pride in his ancestors, and has such delicate feelings with re gard to all the dirty interests of com merce, that it would certainly break his heart. Let us stay till he is a little older, Mr. Mason, and then' " And then it may be too late. Let me once more conjure you, Mrs. Leland, to crush his destructive pro pensities in the bud. For, depend upon it, corruption lies at the root of romance: and the very same susrep- 117 tibility of disposition, which may at first lead to the love of the amiable and the good, the world will despise for its simplicity, ensnare through its openness, and finally prevert to the sensuality to which it is so easily seduced, unfortified as it generally is by humility or prudence, and but too commonly captivated by the first alluring vice presenting itself under the external form of virtue." Mrs. Leland attempted, but in vain, to convince Mr. M. that no such dis astrous consequences could possibly ensue in the case of a youth of so sweet, so amiable a disposition as her Augustus. The Tutor was im* moveable; and, rather than part with a preceptor of such acknowledged 118 worth, and one who had besides evinced much affection for her son, the lady at last agreed, that, in the future conduct of his education, she would not interfere with Mr. Mason's plan; but would actually, if Mr. M. desired it, forbid the farther indul gence of the youth's rooted passion for romances. CHAP. ill. THE next morning, when Mr. Ma son required of Leland his customary task, once more was he pained to find (notwithstanding that the pupil contrived to conceal, as he imagined, a volume of the ' Black Banner,' on the entrance of his Tutor) that ro mance had either prevented or totally supplanted study. With a sternness in his countenance Leland had never before witnessed there, the justly offended preceptor, taking him by the hand, instantly led him to his chamber. " Remain there till your lesson is completed, sir," said Mr. 120 Mason, and immediately left him; at the same time securing the door on the outside. Astonishment and confusion for a moment entirely overwhelmed Au gustus; but rage quickly took the place of those emotions ; for now, for thq first time in his life, he beheld himself the subject of active coercion. He flew violently to the door; but, as it was composed of solid oak, and its lock of no ordinary strength, it re sisted of course his most strenuous efforts to force it. Swelling with resentment, for a few minutes he paced the room with the strut of a monarch in tragedy: then again he assaulted the door; and again the antique oak repelled his puny efforts. 121 Words cannot paint his fury! At length, after once more traversing the room, and hurling, with a fierce look, his Euclid (author of his woes !) at the massy frame which held him prisoner, he sat down, thinking it might be possible to plan some me thod of escape. But, for the means of effecting this the window was two stories from the ground : and his apartment, however ancient, was unprovided with a trap-door, leading through mysterious passages to a subterra neous vault, or a sliding pannel, open ing upon a concealed corridore, and conveying, by a winding staircase, to some secret outlet. In vain did he rack his brains for precedents of any I. M 122 Rolando, Rinaldo, or Orlando, who had ever leapt from a casement at the height of near forty feet from terra firma; and the conviction was irre sistibly forced upon him, that the most doughty hero of them all, who should have attempted so dangerous a feat, would, in all human probabi lity, have broken either his legs or his neck. Stung with the bitterest vexation, he sat some time pondering how to act. Suddenly casting his eyes to wards a half- open closet, he perceived a stout and apparently long rope. A rope-ladder! he triumphantly ex claimed; and wondered that this so noted expedient in all cases of forlorn prisoners had not before occurred to 123 him. Eagerly did he lower it from the window, and found that it would nearly though not quite reach the lawn beneath. Still, all this by no means corres ponded with his ideas of a rope-lad der; and he was rather confused at perceiving the difficulties that would attend his descent by such a convey ance. However, he magnanimously secured one end of the rope to the bed-post, (no fastening of a more dig nified nature presenting itself;) placed a chair by the window; mounted it; surveyed the distance to the bottom; twisted his hands in the rope; sus pended one leg from his elevated situation; and finding a sensation resembling a whirling of the brain M 2 124 rapidly overcoming him hastily drew it back again. This circumstance had nearly over set his glowing heroics: he calmly seated himself on the bed-side. But, soon reviving, all the horrors as he had learned to deem them, of im mured solitude, recurred to his dis tempered imagination. He dwelt upon the triumph of defeating the plans of his tyrant, as in thought he called his too gentle Tutor: he pic tured to himself the agitation and alarm that would pervade the castle upon the discovery of his absence, (for he had already determined to lurk within the neighbouring wood till night-fall;) and, full of the con sequence he expected would for ever 125 attach to him, could he but summon Resolution to achieve the enterprise, he once more ascended to the win dow; and (will it be believed?) his important vanity did then enable him, though trembling every joint, and pale as the midnight spectres he had so often read of, to descend, by suc cessively untwisting and retwisting his fingers in the rope, and resting his feet upon every slight projection by the way, as far as the window im mediately beneath his own. But this as he was dangling past, too much occupied with his own fears to notice w r ho was standing within, a shriek struck like the knell of death upon his ear, and at the same moment he felt the rope descending with the M 3 126 rapidity of lightning. Convinced that it had either broken or become unfastened above, he gave a shriek in concert, terror unloosed his hold, and he fell senseless to the ground. Acute pain, for he had dislocated an ancle, recovered him just in time to witness his mother, tutor, sister, and the domestics of the household, rushing all together to the spot. " Augustus! child!" franticly ex claimed Mrs. Leland, " how could you think of so rash an attempt he's killed! he's killed!" she cried in the utmost terror, seeing that he lay motionless, his face concealed in the high grass, upon the ground. " Be calm, 1 intreat you, Madam," said Mr, Mason, lifting a hand of the terror* 127 stricken youth, and observing the burning blush that prevailed even over the hue of affright upon his cheek; "people do not often die of shame." " But pray, sir, how did this happen?" he enquired of Augus tus : " I do not recollect any problem in Euclid, elucidating the methods of perpendicular descent from a second- story window." " I no, sir it's not in Euclid, but that is the rope broke" stam mered out the youth; so confounded by his mortification, pain, and terror, that he scarcely knew what he said. " The rope!" said Mr. Mason, affect ing now for the first time to notice it, and discovering that it must be strongly secured above, since he tried 128 in vain to pull it from the window; " the rope broke!" " La! no, sir," cried the servant- girl, \vho at this moment bustled into the circle, " the rope's not broke: for as I happened to be in the next chamber, and heard a monstratious noise in young master's room, I made bold to turn the lock, and there I seed the rope tied to the bed-post, and the bedstead pulled all the way from the furder corner of the room right up to the window!" At this, Mr. Mason could not for bear smiling; the servants tittered; and little Emily laughed outright. " I did so scream," she cried, " when 1 saw brother's legs hanging, I couldiit tell how, outside the win- 129 dow: yet I could hardly help laugh ing* either, to see him clinging to the rope, just like our old tabby- cat!" The titter among the servants here became a general roar, which Mrs. Leland silenced by a frown; but at ' the same time could not herself avoid saying, " silly, silly child!" During all this while, the little would-be hero had stirred neither hand or foot, nor uttered a syllable, as he lay ; nor could his mother's most pressing iriireaties prevail with him to attempt to rise. " Harkee, young gentleman," at length said Mr. Mason, " you are at liberty to prolong your folly to any extent you may think proper: it can hurt nobody but yourself. But, be- 130 fore we leave you, let me give you this little piece of advice. Should you ever again think of escaping from a two-pair of stairs window by means of a rope and a bed-post, remember that it was the increased momentum acquired by your body, when arrived at a certain depth, which had the effect of drawing the bedstead to the window after you: a principle in MECHANICS this, which, as you have more than once heard me explain it, might have prevented your causeless fright and fall, had romances permit ted your paying me the attention necessary to enable you to recollect it." So saying, Mr. Mason walked into the castle : and the servants having, 131 by his mother's orders, forced Le- land upon his legs, the hurt he had received by the fall was then dis covered. As he was unable to sup port himself, a sort of bier was constructed of the crossed arms of the domestics: and, with Mrs. Le- land in tears, and an expression of grief mingled with comic wonder in the countenance of Emily, the little cavalcade followed slowly the steps of the Tutor. A surgeon being sent for, the ancle was set im mediately upon his arrival: but Le- land's recovery from the consequen ces of his heroism, cost him several day's confinement, not merely in his chamber, but in bed. V CHAP. IV. THOUGH really concerned at the rather serious termination of LelantTs exploit, Mr. Mason felt inclined to hope that the best effects might result from it. He communicated these hopes to Mrs. Leland; but that lady seemed rather disposed to reflect on the severity of the Tutor, as the cause of her son's disaster, than to allow that the disaster itself had any connection with the youth's turn for romance. A little conversation which she had the next day with Augustus, however, materially contributed to alter her sentiments in this respect. 133 Approaching his bedside to make her customary enquiries, she was at first pleased to observe that he an swered with a degree almost of viva city; for, since his accident, he had hitherto maintained a sullen silence, when she spoke, or made her, and indeed every one else, replies equally ungracious and ungrateful. The truth was, that during the hour previous to this visit, having had an interval of bodily ease, but finding it impossible to divert his thoughts from his recent disgrace, Leland had been working up his feelings to the highest pitch of exasperation, not with himself, for his own frantic absurdities, but with his Tutor, for that gentleman's at tempts to cure him of them ; and he I. N 134 was now eager to give vent to all the reproaches on the worthy man, which the bitterness of his spirit inspired him with. Mrs. Leland listened for some little time in astonishment, and scarcely without a smile, to the vehement ex clamations of " brute!" " monster!" " barbarian!" with which he loaded his kind corrector. She then made some attempts to moderate the trans ports of his resentment: and even entered upon a sort of half-defence of Mr. Mason; though she had not the prudence entirely to conceal her chagrin at the Preceptor's unexpected activity in the system of discipline he had commenced under her sanction. " Consider, my dear child," said 135 she, " that Mr. Mason certainly ought to have been obliged in the first instance, in regard to the lesson he set you. And really, I think, it would have been easier for you, with the abilities you possess, to have ap plied yourself seriously to it when he first locked you in, and thus have re gained your liberty in a short time by completing it, than to have had re course to such a very, very violent step as getting out of your window. You have surely great reason to be thankful that the consequences were no worse, as you must be sensible they might have been, " I cannot much longer endure his tyranny," said Augustus, who had paid but little attention to Mrs. Le* N 2 136 land's remarks; " and you know, mother, if Osric, in the ' Abbey of St. CJair,' had not escaped from the cruelties of the monk Egbert, his preceptor, by means of the spiral stairs so happily discovered by him - cut, as you remember, in the interior of the immense walls of his prison he would never have been able to achieve the deliverance of his be loved Elfrida, nor yet to obtain such noble vengeance on his other ene mies, by the midnight burning of their strong-hold, the Castle of the Wizard's Glen." " Is it possible, child!" cried Mrs. Leland, now first perceiving his practical application of her admired authors; " that you could seriously 137 set yourself to imitate the nonsense that one reads in a book?" " Nonsense!" repeated Augustus, equally surprised in his turn; " nay mother, hav'nt you over and over again told me, that the whole story was actually divine?" " Yes!" said his mother, as the real state of her son's mind now dawned upon her own; and, cast ing a sorrowful look upon the youth, she left the room to conceal her tears : for knowing no medium in her conclusions, she was now ready to believe, not merely that his imagina tion w r as infected, but that his reason ing powers were disturbed, by the fantastic visions of romance. N 3 133 As for Leland, though, at a former period, the sentiments his mother had just advanced would have had their proper weight with him, yet now, so infatuated was he become, surprise at the seeming alteration in her opi nions was quickly changed into a feeling of contempt : yes, my young reader! pause while you reflect, that romance had, even at this early pe riod, brought her victim to an unre served indulgence in contempt for the admonitions of a parent! CHAP. V. ON Leland's complete recovery from the effects of his un-romantic accident, his mother, convinced but too late of the mischiefs to be appre hended from the farther cultivation of his darling propensities, began heartily to co-operate with Mr. Ma son in his endeavours to work a thorough reformation. The Tutor was now even positively charged to omit no species of study, or restraint, that might conduce to this end ; and Leland, for the first time, found no refuge from his tasks, or the inflicter of them, in the arms of his mother. 140 Meantime, the youth's abstraction of manner increased daily : and his only solace became that of wander ing, after he had finished his lessons, through the woods that surrounded the domain of his fathers, while in imagination he conjured up their spirits, to behold and redress his wrongs. In these rambles, he was speedily known and noticed by the peasants whose cottages were nearest to his home ; and not a few of them would stare with astonishment, as they witnessed his heroic strut, his sudden starts and pauses, or his up lifted hands while solemnly invoking the manes of his progenitors. Neither did this kind of observa tion altogether displease him: 011 the 141 contrary, it flattered his pride to observe their silent Bonder as he passed. And it cannot excite sur prise, that the pleasure he thus learn ed to take in this self-exhibition, soon added affectation to his other follies; though it might have gone nigh to cure him of that contempti ble weakness, had he heard the loud laugh of the simple cottagers, that inevitably followed his departure. When at home, the honest and un concealed mirth of the little Emily, at his various extravagancies, not a little added to his discontent and dis quiet: and every day his walks be came longer and more frequent. Neither did Mr. Mason entirely dis courage these perambulations, though 142 he took proper care that a romance should never be their companion ; for he thought air and exercise necessary to his pupil, after the rather severe studies to which it was now thought expedient to subject him, in order to divert his mind from more baneful pursuits. But in spite of this kind attention to the health of Augustus, he was observed to grow paler and more sickly, and his dejection of spirits to increase. These symptoms were viewed by Mr. Mason with real though concealed alarm; but by Mrs. Leland with such distress, that she had begun to repent her con currence with the recently-adopted measures of the Preceptor, when a 143 new folly on the part of her son once mere induced her to give them her entire approbation. Leland was one day walking in the most unfrequented part of the woods, when, on turning an angle of the path, he suddenly observed, at the distance of a few paces, the rude and squalid tent of a family of gipsies; who, with a large iron kettle suspended over a wood-fire before them, ap peared to be preparing themselves a repast. A man, rather advanced in years, was attending the kettle ; while his son, a lad about Leland's own age, stood, with a vacant yet sly look, idly by; and a woman, with a child at her back, seemed to be gathering sticks a few yards farther on, to add 144 to the nearly exhausted embers on the turf. Strange to tell, though Leland might be said to have heard of gipsies in the course of his life, he was totally unacquainted with their character as common pilferers from every neigh bourhood visited by them, and their ordinary means of obtaining the ne cessaries of life. In fact, he knew nothing, either of men or things, beyond the precincts of his mother's estate, and those exaggerated des criptions in his favourite authors, which alone had ever interested his imagination; for his unconquerable reserve had prevented those inqui ries, as becoming as they are natural to youth, which would have proved 145 the sources of much valuable infor mation. As he approached, he could not help betraying in his countenance marks of surprise, mingled with alarm. Having never before seen any of this singular race, his romantic fancy in stantly painted them as beings super natural and unearthly: and it should be noticed, that though these wan derers had been some weeks resi dent in the vicinity, arid had com mitted many thefts from the castle grounds, they had hitherto studi ously avoided Augustus, whenever he had ignorantly approached them in his walks, judging him to be the young heir of the domain, and fear ing that by his means they might be i. o 146 discovered, and forced to migrate earlier than suited their intentions. But, having that morning accidentally met with a servant-girl of Mrs. Le- land's, from whom, in return for foretelling her no small share of fu ture splendour, they had obtained, along with a silver sixpence, some insight into the several characters of the family, they were resolved to ac cost our hero on his next appearance, and had scarcely matured a plan, of no good import to the youth, when he appeared to their wishes. On seeing him, the man, though apparently inattentive to every thing but the kettle before him, gave a sort of cough, accompanied with a mean ing look, (both unobserved by Au- 147 gustus,) which aroused the woman's attention. Yet she continued her occupation of gathering sticks, till Leland, having passed the man in silence, was immediately opposite to her; when, approaching him, she de manded in a mysterious manner, if she should tell his fortune? Startled at the question, and struck with her wild appearance, which re minded him of the Weird Sisters he had read of in a Scottish romance, he stood a moment hesitatingly : then, with great sagacity, as he thought, and with an important voice, asked if she could describe the present; " for if so," continued he, " I may believe your prophecy of the future.- Who I?" o 2 148 " An heir, a prisoner, and a slave!" replied the woman, in a solemn tone. Leland was thunderstruck. " But," resumed the gipsey, taking his hand, and attentively examining it, " you will escape the tyrant. Be resolute; and this day will give you liberty." Astonished beyond measure, Au gustus, after a pause, eagerly en quired her meaning? " We," returned the woman, glanc ing her eye at her seemingly inatten tive husband, and the arch-looking youth at his side, " we want no castles, and read no books. We are happy: but you!" " I am indeed wretched!" said he, pathetically. 149 It need not surprise the reader, whom we spare the farther partir culars of this extraordinary converr sation, that its result was a deter mination on the part of Leland to accompany these gipsies, he scarce knew whither, and certainly he knew not why. But there was a something wild, singular, and, to say all in a word, romantic, about this adven ture; and though he did not entirely credit the woman's pretensions to prophetic powers, he found it im^ possible to resist their fascination. Before he could have time to re pent of his resolution, the tent was struck, the moveables secured upon the back of an ass that had been browsing on thistles under the hedge, o 3 150 and the party commenced their jour ney through the wood ; the artful hag contriving to keep our hero in talk, while the man, who had not yet spoken a word, walked on gloomily before, and a settled leer w r as on the countenance of the urchin. About sunset, a circuitous route having been purposely chosen by their leader, they reached the open country. The shades of evening be gan now rapidly to deepen: and that depression of the spirits, which, after an eventful day, sometimes seizes on the mind, infected by the gloom of twilight scenery, began to have a sensible effect upon Leland; whose animated apostrophes to liberty, and praises of pedestrian exertion, had 151 before gradually sunk into a pro found silence. The gipsey- woman now more than once advanced to the man in front, and addressed him in a few low words, to which he replied by indis tinct mutterings: a feeling of dread stole fast upon the mind of our hero : the darkness was every moment in creasing. He was just revolving in his mind the comforts of his snug, warm bed-chamber, and recoiling in horror from the thought of the miserable covert borne by the ass before him, when the man suddenly turned, and seized Leland by the coat ; and, in spite of his shrieks and resistance, speedily divested him of that and his other garments; while 152 the woman stood as on the watch at a little distance, and the gipsey-boy looked on, and grinned and laughed outright alternately. During the perr formance of which atrocious act, the man's features, though they altered not for a moment from the composed and savage gloom they expressed ha bitually, appeared to our youth dis torted with the malignant passions of a fiend, and conveyed an impression, which he judged would never be effaced from his memory. Having thus effected their purpose, some rags, which in fact formed a cast-off suit of the gipsey-boy 's, were thrown to the horror-stricken Augustus ; and the woman having by this time pro ceeded on her way to some distance, 153 the boy jumped upon the ass's back, the man seized hold of the bridle of the animal, giving the clothes just forcibly taken in charge to his son, ' and the whole party, favoured by the darkness, were out of sight in a few seconds of time. What was the situation, and what the feelings, of Augustus! The con sciousness that he had been duped, excited his rage ; the conviction that to his own credulous folly his mis fortune was chiefly to be attributed, filled him with shame and mortifica tion; the darkness and loneliness of the strange spot at which he found himself, inspired him with terror; cold, nakedness, hunger, and bo dily weariness, united to afflict him. 154 The anguish of his mind was be trayed by his loud and bitter lamen tations, which none were near to compassionate, and the tears of dis tress and self-remorse fell plentifully' from his cheeks. Miserable as was his plight from the loss of his own garments, it was long before he could prevail with himself to assume those of the dirty gipsey-boy. But he at length found it absolutely necessary to pro tect in some degree his shivering limbs from the night-air; and the moon now rising, inspired him with the hope of being able to retrace his way to the Castle. He now clothed himself therefore with rags, which in the morning he would have spurned 155 from his path; and found them at least impart a feeling more agreeable than that of a total want of apparel. Painfully did he begin his way toward the home, whose neighbour hood he had so causelessly quitted ; and more and more doubtful did he become as he advanced, of his being again able to reach it. He with the utmost difficulty recognised the ob jects he had passed in the day-time, both from the different light, and the opposite position, in which they now appeared to him. His perplexity in creased when he found it necessary to re-enter the woods ; and his terrors were not slight as he passed under the dark arms of the lofty trees. The wood-cat, the fox, and the va- 156 rious lesser animals, which in our happy country are the only beasts that prowl nightly for their prey, were abroad; but the motions and voices of these were sufficient to give affright to one, whose habits had rendered him scarcely conscious that such animals existed. To add to his distress, he found it totally impossible to continue in the mazy path pursued by the unprincipled wanderers when escorting him in the contrary direction, and was obliged in consequence to guess at the track he ought now to follow. So intricate and deceptive were the few beaten ways under the trees, that, after toiling nearly two hours, forcing a passage through innumerable brakes, 157 thai nearly tore from off him his rem nants of clothes, and at last dis covering an outlet, he became imme- ^diately sensible that he had not made the slightest real progress, having emerged from the wood at the dis tance of a few yards only from where, after leaving the gipsies, he hud entered it ! This appeared the climax of his woes. Overcome with the fatigue of exertions so apparently fruitless, he threw himself upon a bank, and again gave vent to a torrent of tears. At that moment he could have relin quished all farther effort in despair; but then the alternative that pre- 'sented itself, that of remaining all night upon the shelterless spot where i. P 158 .he now was, appeared so forlorn and comfortless, that he could by n'o means readily embrace it. At last he resolved, cost him what labour it might, to pursue the boundary of the wood, in the direction which he knew must conduct him towards the Castle, and not again intrust himself to its paths ; and, regretting that this idea had not earlier occurred to him, he once more set forward. In pursuing the resolution now formed, he was obliged to quit the road very shortly afterwards, and cross a stile into the fields that fol lowed the irregular outline of the wood. As he proceeded, a path that had for some time accompanied him, terminated in a narrow lane, whose 159 direction, be was instantly conscious, was the reverse of that he ought to take. To continue along the margin of the trees, it became necessary 'therefore to clamber over a hedge, and surmount every other obstacle of the like nature that might occur on the way. Little as he was equal to such undertakings, after the fatigues he had already undergone, he felt it indispensable to his reaching home that night that he should attempt them; and, after some moments of hesitation, began to execute the task. Had the wretched apparel that he could scarce keep together on his limbs been of the most opposite des cription, it must have suffered greatly from the wearer's putting its texture p 2 160 to so severe a proof: what then very shortly became the state of that $f Augustus? Long ere he reached ,341 angle of the wood, from whicfi h could faintly descry the castle-turrets 1 standing in darkness beneath the waning moonlight, it was torn almost literally to ribbands ; and became of course so accessible to the night air, that the youth doubtless owed it to the extraordinary bodily exertions fc > was making, that he did not after wards fatally suffer from the cold. At length, when he was well nigh exhausted with his toils, and the night was nearly become the dawn ing of another day, the gates of the Castle stood before him; and the fair, in the garb of a beggar-boy, in I* 161 the cast-off tatters, now yet more tattered, of a gipsey-child, at an hour so unseasonable, was to demand ad- !mittance! Clie only light was visible at any window of the abode, and that window | looked from the chamber of his mo ther. It told Leland that a parent had been counting the hours, in little ."V^ss than distraction no doubt, till his Uppearance. It aroused emotions in his bosom toward that fond parent, which not all the sufferings of his situation, not all the shame he felt at the recollection of the circum stances under which he must again appear before her, could deprive of their just tone of gratitude. Some portion of the selfishness of romantic p 3 162 feeling had vanished, for a time at least, from the effect of the past day's adventures ; and real affliction in his own person had made him more* capable of valuing the anxiety of another on his account. He knocked with a feeble and tremulous hand; but, in the stillness of the hour, the sound loudly rever berated in the Castle hall, and th: