$^^^mm. yr^^. UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY ATURBANA-CHAMPAIGN B00K3TACKS '0'U^ y/fjJ^N^/^ Ma-vey ^^ it!^ O N . ;k TtJF. 36,Ivr T,AN 1 TMIE ' ' I'/i TBJC ^ "^ teing the y^^ ^A/ A(^/l^ yk^l ,X^&^U^M^^ BE COTTAGE Or^ TBT. ClIFT ■??/k" A'/JAe7-ess of the 2Iysterioi/s Marriage, Fajmlju To^i7^dts. Orphan Boi/. F"BLISffED BY G ATRTITE. 26. IVY 'LANE. LC^: B^TH STREET. BRISTOL. & QUEEN" s^CJARE.L- TiV. PISHERS DAUGHTER, ASD THE FORTUNES OF AIjFRED. Beini; the sequel to that so greatly admired and popular TFork, odltled, C5e Cottage en i^t Cliff, OR A SEA-SIDE STORY. BY -MRS. CATHERINE G. WARD, Aulhcreis nf—^Jysl€r^nus Marring c—Fumily Portraits— (Jiphan Bvy- " Age had not queuchV! the open truth And fiery vebeir.ence ol youth, Fonvard'and frolic glee was there, The uitl to do, the suul to dare. The sparkling glance soon blown to fire, Of hast}f love or headlong ire ; His limbs were cast in manly mould, For hardy sport's and contest bold." aontjon ; PUBLISHED BY G. VIRTUE, 2C, 1VV-LA^-E. PATERNOSTER -p. 0\|-; EATFI-STREET, FRISIOL; AND QUEEN-SQUARE, LlVKilPOOL. 1824. OXFORD : rRINTED BY BAlVrLKTT AND HINTOM. THE FISHER'S DAUGHTER. I CHAPTER L 81 •* Poor chikl of danger, nulling! of the stonn, '"^ Sad v\ere the woes that wreck'd thy manly form ; « Rocks, waves, and winds thy shattered bark delay, "* Thy heart was sad, thy home \va< far away ; V But hope can still her moonlight vigiU keep, And *injf to charm the spirU of the deep." It may be recollected that at the period when Cap- tain Singleton returned once more in peace and safety to take possession of his favourite and beloved retreat, ^ The Cottage 6n the Cliff;' when, after the suc9eeding events which had marked with fearful doubts and soul-torturing suspense, the heroic mind, but gentle heart of the lovely Agatha, and gloomy scenes had given place to a total reverse of prospects in her so long adverse fortune; when the bright beaming sun of happiness shone full upon her, by giving her to the arms of a faithful and an adoring lover, in the person of her so newly discovered cousin. Lord Montague Montault ; it may be remembered that it was then the generous intention of the Fisher Blust, to provide for the fortunes of the c:entle Alfred, and those also of THE FISHER S DAUGHTER. the bold, aspiring, and spirited, intrepid Wolf, as soon as they had finally completed their respective studies at the seminary in which he had placed them, in the vicinity of Cromer, a few weeks only after they had so providentially escaped from the perils of the shipwreck, which had laid all besides them in a watery grave. And it was not long after the nuptials of the Lady Agatha Braganza and Lord Montague had been solemnized in the village church at Cromer, that Wolf and Alfred returned to Herring Dale, the house of their protector, so improved in person, and so cultivated in mind and manners, that little now could be discerned of the poor shipwrecked boys, who had formerly excited the pity and compassionate attention of the humane and hos- j)itable inhabitants of Cromer, when the rough gale threw them on their coast in the fearful night of the storm ; and to none more than to the fisher himself was this alteration and improvement in his adopted sons perceptible ; who, surveying them from head to foot, the very moment that they alighted from the chaise and crossed the threshold of Herring Dale, with that look of unsophisticated nature and feeling which he was at all times remarkable for, and shaking the hand of each with no very gentle pressure, loudly vo- ciferated — " Shiver my topsails if ever I saw two such young giants in all my born days ! why lads, thee be grown out of all knowledge for certain sure." " Except the knowledge of being known to one at least, sir, who does not appear to have lost sight of us, if we may judge of his kindness at the present mo- ment," uttered Alfred, returniug the warm i)ressu!e THE FISHER S DAUGHTER. 5 of his protector's hand with eyes moistened with a tear, (the genuine offspring of heartfelt gratitude,) while his foster-brother Wolf, experienced the same sensation, although he did not express it in a similar way, but exclaimed — "Yes sir; we can do any thing now to serve yon, we are no longer boys ; Alfred is not so delicate and chicken-hearted as he used to be, and I am as stout as a lion." '^ And as fierce as a turkey-cock," cried the fisher, viewing the fine formed and athletic limbs of Wolf, as he stood before him with unspeakable delight and sa- tisfaction, while he replenished his pipe with tobacco, " Well lads, be*st thee hungry ? I warrant me thee canst make shift to eat a slice of roast beef, and a thumping piece of plum pudding, before thee goest to roost ; but I say, lads, does not thee wonder what is become of the best piece of furniture at Herring Dale ? look about my lads, and see if thee dost not miss something as I do now?" It was evident both to Alfred and Wolf, that in uttering these words, the fisher had some difficulty in suppressing a painful, and to him involuntary sensation, and that a sigh was broke in suffocating smoke, be- fore he added, " But it be all for the best, I do suppose it be all for the best. Shiver my topsails ! grieving's a folly, as the old song says ; but my Jess was the pride of my eyes, and the comfort of my heart, and thtc wert both mortal fond of thy sister Jessy, wast not thee, lads }" Neither Wolf or Alfred could immediately reply to their kind protector, for but one thought actually pos- b THE FISHER S DAUGHTER. sessod their imagination, and that thought was that the lovely gentle Jessy had followed her sister Olive to an untimely grave, and was no more ; for they did not behold hei- there, who was ever wont to welcome their return to Herring Dale with smiles; and the manner of the fisher, so far from relieving them of their apprehensions, greatly added to their fear that he was now bereft of both his daughters ; and Alfred with much agitation replied : — ** Love our sister Jessy ? ah ! sir, who was there who could not love her ? but I hope — I — I — I — she is not — I hope dear Jessy is still the pride of your cyes^ and the comfort of your heart. You do not answer, my dear father. Alas ! you tremble and you turn pale ; is then Jessy dead ?" To which the fisher, with a whiff of his pipe which emitted volumes of smoke, immediately replied, — '^ Shiver ?ny topsails ! no, not dead, — no boy, not exactly that, — but she is married — and that's one and the same thing, you know ; — Jessy is married ! there- fore she is dead to me, and that's flat !" The manner of the fisher at this moment, would have excited the risibility of the gravest and most rigid philosopher; for suiting the action to the word, he struck his pipe against the edge of the table at which he was sitting, with such determined violence, that it was presently shivered into a thousand atoms ; and Wolf, in spite of his utmost efforts to prevent it, burst into a most immoderate fit of laughter. Not so, Alfred ; for Jessy was the subject and the cause of this intemperate warmth in the bosom of a fond fa- ther ; for which, although Alf-ed was inclined to make THK fisher's DAVGUTER. 7 even* reasonable and just excuse, yet he did not «ee why the sweet Jessy ahould be blamed for an act so natural, so chaste, and so honourable, as marriage ; and who, averting the fate of her unfortunate sister, had made choice of the only step that pmdence and delicacy could adopt in her situation ; but to whom was Jessy married ? Alfred had never seen any young man there, paying her any particular attention, since the unfortunate affair of poor Olive Blust, and Leon- tine Craftly ; and he was fearful of hazarding an en- quiry at this moment of the fisher, who did not ap- pear to be in the happiest disposition that was pos- sible, from a sudden recollection of former times; for the loss of his Jessy, contrasted with the loss of Oli^'e too, although far different was the nature of the one to the nature of the other, for Olive slept in the dark and mouldering tonjb, to which her imprudence and her folly had consigned her ; but Jessy reposed in the arms of a fond husband, — the just and merited reward of all her gentle virtues, her exemplary piety, and her filial duty to her father j and although the fisher could not reasonably confute this argument, still the loss of his Jessy \^'as a severe trial of his feelings, and of course at times had not the effect of either enlivening his spirits, or sweetening his temper ; in the mean while, Alfred felt that his protector expected both him and Wolf to say something on the subject of Jessy's marriage, and he exclaimed in answer to what the fisher had uttered — " Dear sir ; for heaven's sake cherish not thoughts so gloomy ; compare not marriage to death ! for if it were so, who would feel anxious to taste of its swoets ? 8 THE fisher's daughter. But may I venture to enquire who is so happy as to possess the inestimable treasure of my sister Jessy's heart and hand ?" "Why Sam Russell, to be sure 1" answered the fisher, whose petulence had now evaporated with the last whiff of his tobacco, " as honest a lad as ever broke bread, or heaved an anchor afloat. Shiver my topsails, if ever \ had doubted that, I would have twisted a rope's-yarn about his neck before he should have been the husband of my Jessy. T saw how mat- ters stood with poor Sam, and that he was down- hearted ; so one morning I just gave him a bit of a hint about that villian Craftly, ' Til have no shilly-shallying, Sam, says I ; what ought a man to do, when he loves a girl, and sees as plain as the nose on his face, that she loves him too ? That's a plain question, Sam, answer it.' Now it was a rummish kind of a thing to say this when Jessy was by, w^as'nt it ? she was standing close at my elbow, with her cheeks as red as a scarlet bean- flower, in full blossom. No matter, I am a rummish kind of a fellow myself; you know lads ! I don't like crooked paths aad bye-ways, when there is one plain down-right straight one for a man to steer his compass by, w^hen once he is sure of a woman's affections ! — So what does Sam do, but takes Jessy by the hand and leads her up to me, and then the coaxing slut threw both her pretty arms round my neck ; and Sam let the cat out of the bag, without any further preamble. Shiver my topsails, what could a father do that so loved his child, as I did Jessy ? ' God bless thee both,* cried I, and spliced their hands together. But the parson had to finish the rest of the ceremony, mind TH£ FISHER b DAUGHTER. \) that, though. Well, lads, Sam and Jessy were married the very next morning in our pretty little village church ; and there is an end of my story. Shiver my topsails, when we come to matrimony, it's time to leave off, beant it now ?" ^ " Dear Jessy ! none more truly rejoices in her hap- piness than I do," uttered Alfred, with a glistening tear, soft as the dew that the zephyr shakes from the leaves of roses, while Wolf, less the child of delicacy, but equally that of nature, sensibility, and feeling, expressed in bolder terms his regard for the lovely Jessy, and his approval of her choice in Sam Russel. . '^ Whom I always liked better than any who visited at Herring Dale," uttered he, " for though he had not so many fine sayings at his tongue's end as some of them, yet he had a better heart, and would not have been guilty of a mean or a dirty action, for the life of him." '' No, shiver my topsails if I would not take my Bible oath of that," cried the fisher, highly pleased with the manner in which Wolf had expressed his sentiments on the merits of Mr. Russel, which so well accorded with his own, that his spirits and good hu- mour now returned in fall hilarity ; and the supper being ready, the first dish was set on the table by poor old Alice, who rather hobbled than walked, on account of her increasing infirmities ; but who still retained her situation as house-keeper at Herring Dale, and whose services the fisher would not exchange for a younger one. Although Mrs. Russel had more than once hinted to her father, whenever she spent the day with him, (which was veiy frequently the case,) that 10 THE fisher's daughter. the advanced age of poor old Alice rendered her unfit for the management of the household affairs^ to which, chucking the old girl under the chin, he would hu- morously exclaim, " Shiver my topsails ! but thou hast a colt's tooth yet in thy head, hast not thee, Alley?'' which highly offended the ancient dame, who, shaking her head, always gave the retort courteous to her old master, with " May be so — may be so — but if I have gotten a colt's tooth in my head, I know. Master, that thou hast gotten a wag's tongue in thine ; — colt's tooth, forsooth ! well-a-day, I have not had a colt's tooth in my head these fifty years !" At sight of the youths, Alfred and Wolf, the poor old creature testified the greatest joy at seeing them so improved in looks and in stature, while thiey in return expressed the pleasure they felt in beholding her again. ^' Ah ! well-a-day ! but I am wearing away, my dear boys," uttered the old woman, " going — going; — down, as the saying is." — " Going to a fiddlestick's end," vociferated the fisher in his usual way, " thou hast been a going ever since I can remember thee, and art not gone yet, my old lass ! come, fill up a bumper of brandy, and drink to the health of these two boys !" " Aye, marry will I, master," said Alice, ^^ and that they may do well and prosper in the next long voyage they take over the high seas." " Ah ! it was indeed a prosperous gale which sent us hither," responded Alfred, " to share in the bless- ings of kindness, friendship, and hospitality, w^hich but for that wc never had known," THE .FISIJEr's DAUGHTKR. M '' It is a Providence, Master Alfred, that never deserts those who place entire confidence in its protection, and 'tis a bad wind that blows good to nobody, my dear boy, remember that," uttered the old woman, as she hobbled back again to attend to her duties in the kitchen, leav- ing the snug and happy party to enjoy themselves in the parlour without interruption ; and to partake of a meal, which, though it did not consist of refined de- licacies, was sufficiently luxurious to those who had never yet dreamt of luxuries, and therefore knew not the artificial want of them. For, what is a man, if his chief good and market of his time be but to sleep and feed ? " A beast, no more," saith the immortal bard : " Aud what is gaiety ? The iiiiioeeut is gay. The lark is gay, That dries his feathers, saturate with dew, Beneath the rosy cloud, while yet the heau>s Of day-spring overshoot his humble uest. The peasant too, a witness of his song. Himself a songster, is as gay as he. — But save me, oh save me From the gaiety of luxury." " Well, lads, thee shall see thy sister Jessy to-mor row," uttered the fisher, observing, that although Wolf did ample justice to the roast beef and plum puddiug, betrayed some impatience and even chagrin, the cause of which might be easily traced to its real source ; for during dinner Alfred had casually en- quired of his protector after the health of the Montault family, and that also of Captain Singleton ; and whc- 12 THE fisher's daughter. ther that gentleman still resided at the Cottage on the Cliff? to which the fisher replied with an air of the greatest indifference, in which however, it was evident that pique had some share — " ^iver my topsails ! if I can tell you any thing at all about them, except that there was a talk some time ago, that Lady Livinia was going to be married to a great lord, and that was thought to be a great match for her. But I never trouble my head any more about such fine gentry than they do about Peter Blust, who thinks himself as great a man as any of them."' A pause of some length ensued. The fisher began twirling his thumbs, a habit to which he was accus- tomed when any thing displeased him ; and Wolf, whose fine countenance had a richer glow of a roseate tint than when he had sat down, could no longer con- trol his impatient anxiety to learn some intelligence of his still tenderly and passionately beloved favourite, the lovely lady Agatha ^ and somewhat hastily pro- nounced — " And cannot you tell us any thing about our dear — I mean, sir, — that I should like to know — that is, I mean the" — Wolf hesitated — faultered — and coloured deeply ! and the fisher immediately vociferated, ** Curse me, if I know what you mean — ^you have made a good story of it — perhaps Alfred can help you out, for, shiver my topsails, if 1 know head or tail of what you are saying." This not only added to the embarrassment of poor Wolf, but increased his anxiety about the lady Agatha; and Alfred, w^ishing to relieve him without offending his protector, with great diffidence uttered, " I believe. THE FISHRR's daughter. 13 sir, 1 can pretty nearly guess at ray brother's thoughts, if you will permit me to reveal them. '^ Do so, lad/' cried the fisher^ who however had a pretty near guess at them himself, though willing to torment him a little, " do so Alfred,'' repeated hqi and almost ready to laugh, " for I love plain sailing ; it's much better than tacking about, youknow, at any time." '^ Why, sir, my brother is very naturally anxious to receive some intelligence respecting the lady Agatha, which is not to be wondered at when you consider how highly he has been honoured with her friendship, when we supposed her to be the daughter of Captain Singleton ; and since her exalted birth has been known to us even in the character of Lady Agatha Braganza, she has not been the less amiable in those engaging qualities of disposition and sweetness of mannei's that dignified her in the plain attire, yet lovely person of Agatha Singleton." *^ And had she kept to that name, and not known any other, shiver my topsails if I don't think she would have been all the better for it," uttered the fisher. " Wliat sir," cried Wolf, forgetting all but the lovely object in question, *' has matrimony made so great an alteration in Miss Agatha Singleton ?" on which en- quiry the fisher smiled. '^ Now that's a pretty question," uttered he, " shiver my topsails, if matrimony don't make some alteration in a woman, I should be glad to know what does ? Not that I have any fault to find so much with my once dear little darling, but 1 don't like her husband." Oh sir, and is it possible that any one can dislike Lord Montague Montault," cried Wolf, more asto 14 THE fisher's 3MUGHTF.R. iiished than ever at the asperity with which this was uttered by his protector. '' But I think it very possible, sir, though you may not," answered the fisher angrily; "and I will tell you why, to put you out of suspense, which sits so troublesome on you. I was the protector of Agatha Singleton when she had no other. Lord Montague Montault has forgotten that, and is teaching his wife to forget that too. This, sir, is what they call ingrati- tude all the world over 5 but if you can call it by any other name, pray do, for my satisfaction." Wolf was now not only astonished, but utterly con- founded at a communication so unpleasing, and so little expected. He could answer nothing in extenuation of the conduct of Lord Montault, if the assertion of his pi'otector was really true ; and he could not doubt his veracity on such an occasion ; yet what could be the motives for such extraordinary conduct in Lord Montault, who, before he had married his lovely cousin, exhibited so many amiable traits of a noble and ingenuous disposition. So generous too, and exalted in his sentiments, and appearing so un- conscious of his high birth, and splendid advantages of fortune, that he was beloved, nay adored, by all his father's tenantry on the rich domains belonging to the castle of Montault, and perfectly looked upon as a tutelary saint by the humble class of beings which re- ceived the most liberal marks of his bounty. And was it the least likely to be imagined, that the lovely angel who had so greatly honoured him with her hand and her heart, for which monarchs might have con- tended, could have had any influence in rendering him ./^ THE fisher's daughter. 15 less amiable than he was before. Such an idea was inadmissible. A connection with such a woman, and one too of so sacred and tender a nature, must have exalted a man to the most transporting tide of human bliss ; but it was utterly impossible that it could ever debase him. A marriage with so heavenly a creature, for it was not only the person of Agatha that was so femininely lovely, but that lovely person was reflected in a superior, and if possible, a fairer mind, which like the most transparent fountain, was pure as Dian's temple. Every thought was chaste and holy ; every action bespoke elegance, and every expression was dignified with a becoming graceful modesty ; and in the presence of her husband, on whom those gentle smiles beamed ever constant and radiant with good temper, he might very justly have exclaimed in the beautiful language of Milton, when Adam thus ex- presses his thoughts of Eve : — — — <* Yet, when I approach Her loveliness, so absolute she seems. And in herself complete, so well to know Her own, that what she wills to do or say Seems wisest, vjrtuousest, discretest, best. All higher knowledge in her presence falls Degraded : wisdom in discourse with her Looses discountenanced, and like folly shews ; Authority and reason o» her wait As one intended first, not after made. Occasionally; and to consummate all. Greatness of mind, and nobleness their seat Build in her loveliest, and ci'cate an awe About her, as a guard angelic placed." " And with siicii a woman, could mortal man ever taste of human woe. or know one bitter thought ? It is a moral impossibility," imagined Wolf, as he sat 16 THE fisher's daughter. mechanically tapping his knuckles on the table, musing and sighing at what the fisher had advanced about Lord Montague Montault ; and absolutely lost in profound meditation, he was unconscious that both Alfred and his protector, were not only observing him, but ac- tually amusing themselves in watching the progressive motions that he made, till suddenly he exclaimed, " No, with Lady Agatha no man could be unhappy I should think, for a moment !" At which Alfred and the fisher could no longer pre- serve gravity, but both from the same involuntary im- pulse (which neither could suppress) burst out into repeated peals of laughter, and, which was no sooner perceived by Wolf, than in the utmost confusion he uttered, glancing at Alfred with some symptom of displeasure — " I am ignorant of the cause of your mirth, Alfred, as much as I am to what I have been saying, or what I have been doing ; but I suppose it was something very ridiculous to make you laugh so." Alfred now endeavoured to look grave at this very serious speech of Wolf, for he had no intention of either wounding his feelings, or offending him, but in making this effort he happened to catch the eye of Mr. Blust, who was twirling his pipe about in the most whimsical manner that could be imagined ; and whose merry round face was at this present moment the very antidote to lany thing that was gloomy or melancholy ; and who in answer to what Wolf had said, loudly vociferated, " Yes, very ridiculous, that's true enough, for TU tell thee what thou hast been doing lad for this full quarter of an hour, while Alfred and THE fisher's daughter. If I have beeii looking at thee. You have been playine, usually called buttered cake, in this country. 32: THB fisher's daughter. which she placed before him ; and as no more was said by either party of the disaster which had befallen the spinning wheel, good humour and tranquillity once more took their peaceful and happy reign, long before the fisher had awakened from his drowsy slumbers, and had called lustily about him for the assistance of his trusty squire, who was also his valet de chambre ; for various were the capacities in which the unsophis- ticated and honest David served his worthy master. Although it must be owned Mr. Blust was at times as cross-grained as Alice, yet returning good hu- mour and exemplary acts of kindness, which spon- taneously arose from the fountain of a warm and ge- nerous heart, left no impression on that of a faithful servant, but gratitude and eternal fidelity to the in- terest of a beloved master ; for in the very height of the turbulence of the fisher's passion, he would fre- quently turn round, and fix his inflamed eyes on the broad, rosy, good natured face of Davy, and then burst out into the most involuntary and immoderate fit of laughter, while he exclaimed — " Shiver my topsails ! blow high, blow low, thee do always stick to one point of the compass ; and that be the truth of it." To which Davy, without once relaxing from the grave and quiet possession of his features, would reply— " Yes, master, I be a lad that do never carry false colours, thee may depend upon it." Which reply so generally pleased Mr. Blust, that a glass of grog was the flag of truce hoisted between them, till the next gale of wind happened to produce a hurricane, which S3 atfter a while subsided into a calm, as on former ooce- sions. Destined to pay a visit to his gentle Jessy on this morning, no frown mffled bis warm breath- ing and benevolent cast of features, on which nature had stamped so fair a mark of honest rusticity 5 for it was not cunning that gave to the countenance of Peter Blust the look of arch simplicity for Which it was so remarkable ; and it was not a knowledge of the world that was either the guide or the impulse of his actions. He was not versed in craft, except that which had guided his hand to the helm, when he had steered his adventurous bark on the bosom of the ocean. Therefore, from the sraile which was almost generally playing on his lip, little could be guessed of what was the natural temperature of his disposition or the tenor of his conduct. He was to be tried and to be known on a basis of a more substantial foundation, A clear transparent fountain will most certainly re- flect on its glossy and silvery surface shadows true to its fair and resplendent mirror — but can it display substances ? With equal truth and justice, can it pe- netrate the interior part as well as represent the ex- ternal ? Can it lift up the mysterious veil, and reveal to us the human heart, like unto the fair shadow that it reflects in its silver stream ? No ! human \irtues like the golden ore, lay concealed in hidden mines, till they are searched for, tried, and proved ; and thus both their quality and their excellence become known and valued according to the intrinsic merit that they pos- sess ; and of this description were the virtues, the nature, the character of the fisher Blust ! But to pro- ceed ; he had certainly arisen on this identical raornin^ 62 E 34 TriE fisher's DAUGHTER. in excellent spirits and in a fine tone of humour. ^ Shiver my topsails/* had not been repated once du- ring the operation of dressing, although David, who was standing behind his chair, often committed many nr.s takes and blunders in his awkward capacity of valet de chambre ; but there was some little petulance be- trayed in the face of the fisher when the new boots were drawing on, not being quite so easy as might be expected from the length of time they had been sea- soning with the smoked hams over the door of the pantry; and David, from the aspect on the curved brow of bis master, was apprehensive that a gale was <;oming on. Fortunately, however, these gloomy vestages disappeared, and the sunny rays of good hu- mour and smiling vivacity broke through the mist and dispersed it altogether by the time that he was com- pletely equipped for his journey ; and a glass of brandy taken as a preventive from the effects of cold, though, if the truth must be told, it was in the middle of June and a lovely summer's morning as ever peeped out of a heavenly azure sky. No matter, Peter was wise to remedy an evil while it was yet within his power ; and as folks are sometimes apt to catch cold in the summer season as well as the winter, the recourse to the brandy may be excused. Well, every thing was in train to expedite the jour- ney to the habitation of Mr. and Mrs. Russel. The horses were brought to the gateway, and old Bess, who knew the voice of her master, pricked up her ears, and betrayed as much impatience to be on the foot as he did. Where then were Alfred and Wolf all this time * THE fisher's daughter. 35 why, at their toilette, and were not dressed yet, al- though the fisher had vociferated for them loudly se- i^eral times. Five minutes more completely exhausted the patience of Peter, and " Shiver my topsails," was thundered out at last with a tremendous oath at the end of it, to the no small mortification of poor David, who muttered, — (as he hurried to their chamber to call them down,) — on meeting Wolf on the stair-case with Alfred close to his heels — " 'Tis too bad of you, young gentlemen, dang it, if it beant now. He was never in such a good humour in all his days, and now he be blowing a blast under the gateway louder than a boatswain's whistle, and shivering his topsails like fury. I thought how it would be when once he began to shiver the topsails. Its all over with him then, and how you'll catch it, dang it, you'll both catch it, and sweetly too, or my name's not Davy." By this time the fisher had mounted the back of his Rosinante, or in other words, vaulted into the saddle of old Bess, while, to make use of the phraseology of honest Davy, he was actually blowing a blast that rent the air with its violence ; and the first glance he got of his adopted sons, who very quickly got on the backs of their neighing steeds, was followed with — " Shiver my topsails, what in the devil's name do you keep me here waiting while you are dandifying yourselves off; and what do you look like now pray, with them thingembob collars up to your ears, for all the world just like stuck pigs ; and them jack-a-dandy coats, that puts me in mind of strait waistcoats. Shi- ver my topsails, if I had known that Billy Button the 3(1 FHB FISHER'S DAUGHTER. taylop was a going to make your new clothes after any such fashion as that, I would have sous'd him in the bottom of the fish pond. I tell thee what, lads, I want to see you look like men, and Billy Button has made you like a couple of monkeys. There's Davy can't help grinning at you any more than I can ; and if ever I catch Billy Button at any more such pranks as these, he shall never make another coat or pair of breeches for me so long as my name is Peter Blast.*' Laying the lash of his whip a little briskly over the ears of old Bess, the fisher galloped away, after having vented the whole of his passion on Billy Button the taylor, and the cut of his coats, that had made his adopted sons look like what was his aversion — the dandies 1 But in defence of the invectives bestowed by the fisher Blust on his taylor Billy Button, we must advance, that he had not done any such thing, and that Alfred and Wolf no more resembled dandies than Peter Blust did himself; and that the observation made on the ^ut of their clothes, which were only gentlemanly and modern, was merely made by Peter as a medium to vent his passion through, as well as a sort of punishment inflicted on their pride and youth- ful vanity, for having kept him so long waiting ; for he had no sooner got into the track that led to the habitation of his beloved Jessy, than he forgot both the cut of their coats, and the appellation he had be- stowed on them as resembling a couple of monkeys. Not so poor Alfred or Wolf, who had sustained a painful and mortifying trial of suppressed feelings, hard to be described ; for they were indeed no longer boys, but both experienced the feelings of men just entering THE FISHERS DAUGHTER. 37 into life with no natural protector that they coula claim as their own, and no paternal home in which a father's or a mother's smile could greet them with a welcome ; and as they cantered at a slow pace behind ihe fisher in order to recover their self-possession and to compose their surprized and mortified feelings, they mutually expressed the nature of their thoughts and sentiments to each other. Wolf, however, had too much spirit to repine, and the consoling reflection, that he might one day gain by the laurels of his pro- fessional career a future home to go to, veiy quickly dissipated the gloomy presage of the present moments. Not so Alfred ; his feelings were more refined and per- ceptible to the delicate touches of sensibility; and there was a chord in his heart that vibrated sensibly to the galling reflection, that he was only a dependant on the bounty of the fisher Blust, certainly far his in- ferior, though wealthy. Yet this consideration singly gave him but little respect in the estimation of Alfred. Nor was he blind to his defects ; one of which, though bound to him by the icy fetters of obligation, he could not tolerate. He was abstracted and silent therefore, when Wolf suddenly aroused him from the pensive meditation in which he was plunged, with the exclamation of — " What a paradise of sweets is Jessy's habitation surrounded by ; look Alfred, what an enchanting pros- pect of scenery is every where before us." To which Alfred thoughtfully replied — " Paradise of sweets ! would not the term wilderness of sweets, have been more appropriate, think you ? Paradise has nothing earthly in it ; here all is mortal 38 THK fisher's daughter. that we behold; and though sweet, it is fading; though lovely, it is perishable." " Well, all that 1 know," uttered Wolf; " but before they do perish, is that any reason why we should not enjoy them ? Were they not bestowed to be enjoyed ? Useless was the gift or the blessing so given, if they are not worthy of attention. But prithee, Alfred, don't look so melancholy, or begin to moralize in the middle of a wood." " The middle of a wood is the fittest place for mo- rality to dwell," responded Alfred, "where would you seek for it, in towns, in cities ? Alas ! with them it tarries not long, where folly sends it thence, and vise usurps the sway of sense, of delicacy, and of feeling." " Tush, nonsense ; we have as much morality as they had a century ago," cried Wolf, wishing to dis- sipate the gloom that was hanging 6ver the brow of his beloved brother; and to exchange those tears which yet glistened in his fine, clear, and intelligent blue eyes for smiles joyous and happy. ^* And yet we are as virtuous and as wise as our fore-fathers ; so a truce to your morality, Alfred. Come, let us brighten up, or the old boy will get into a passion again, and call us boors, as well as monkeys." " That he may and welcome," uttered Alfred with a struggled sigh ; " but it is out of his power to make us either. He is himself a boor at times ; but I for- bear to make any further comment on his behaviour to us this morning in the presence of his domestic, who was grinning at us. Such conduct was boorish enough ; but we owe him gratitude, and must bear with his folly — his caprice," THE fisher's daughter. S9 ^ Yet he is as warm-hearted a soul as ever breathed for all that/' uttered Wolf, " and I don't think that he would tread upon a worm unless he was in a passion ; and then — " " He would trample over it, nay, crush it to death," rejoined Alfred, with some asperity, " and then blame his passion for it afterwards. This may be called killing with kindness ; but it is rendering the means of life insupportable ; nay, an absolute pest to society while that passion lasts. I have thought that Olite Blust greatly resembled her father in this one particu- lar, her ungovernable passion ; but Jessy, in all the other excellent points of his disposition." ^' Yes, Olive certainly was in possession of the bane, but she was deficient in the antidote that could charm it away," rejoined Wolf; " but she sleeps in death; and the faults of the departed should ever rest in peace." " True, dear Wolf, your remark is just," answered Alfred, *^' it is impiety to rake up the ashes of the dead, recount their failings, or dwell on their imperfections, were they even numberless as the sands in the sea, or the leaves that strew the earth in autumn. It is im- piety to speak ill of them, — be their virtue only re- membered." By this time they had got close up to the side of the fisher, who exclaimed with not the slightest tone of displeasure in his countenance — " Well, my dear lads, how beest thee, now that we be come within a gun-shot of thy sister Jessy's snug little cottage there, among the trees ? Dost not see it, lads ! it's a good tightesh birth for Sam Russel, 40 TBE FI6UBR*S DAUG;fIT£ft. beant it ? he did not do a bad day's work when he married a Fisher's Daughter, did he ?" As this interrogatory was addressed more to Wolf than to Alfred, he replied — ^* No father, it was a happy day for Mr. Russel to call by so enviable a title as wife, so sweet a girl as Jessy." The fisher looked archly in the face of Wolf, who had uttered this with a warmth and energy of feeling which seemed involuntary, and exclaimed — ''And thee would not mind if thee had just such another as my Jessy, wouldst thee, lad V Wolf's face was in a flame in an instant. The question was unexpected, and certainly malapropos at the present moment, and he replied with some hesi- tation in his manner — " Who, me father ! — me marry? — that is laughable !'* — and Wolf affected what he did not feel, a propensity to mirthful pleasantry, and laughed heartily, which produced the following exclamation from Mr. Blust-^ " Why, what the devil are you laughing at ?" '* At matrimony, father?" responded Wolf. " The devil you are," rejoined the fisher, '' then I can tell you that matrimony is no laughing matter, but a rummish kind of a business when there are no shiners to keep the wolf from the door. Then folks get snappish, and love flies out of the window." Wolf now laughed in reality, while he added to the observation that his protector made, and with an al- most imperceptible sigh to himself, scarcely known— " That reminds me of the song that dear Miss Sin- gleton — , 1 mean, father, the song that the Lady THK TIJHER's IX^UOHTKR. 41 Agatha used to sing so enchantingly, — don*t you re- member ? — * Vouug love lived in a humble shed.* Yes, I am certain you do, for no one that ever heard dear Lady Agatha sing could ever forget it/' *' Avast there though. Master Wolf," uttered the fisher, looking earnestly at the fine large black spark- ling eyes of Wolf, whose cheeks had assumed a brighter glow by the repetition of a name so dear, so thrilling to his recollection ; " avast there," cried the fisher, ^' thee hast heard a bit of my mind about that busi- ness already, hast not thee, lad ? — but thee don't mind. Shiver my topsails ! thee would like to be fishing in troubled waters, after all I have said to thee about a certain person that shall be nameless.*' VV'olf felt an indignant sensation, which his proud and high spirited heart could not utterly repel, and Implied,—* *^ Good God ! sir, is it then a crime to repeat the name of Lady Agatha ? is it then sacrilege to dwell upon her perfections, her nameless graces, her gentle virtues, — must I then be silent in her praise ? she, the only woman that I ever but, be it so, — I will obey you sir, and mention the Lady Agatha no more ! I will be silent: — but if you, or any mortal breathing, were to tell me to forget her, proudly, indignantly, would I answer, A^o. Tear out my heart first ; when it ceases to beat, and its pulsation is no more, then, and only then, will Wolf forget Agatlia." The fisher, for a moment, w^s struck dumb with astonishment. On several occasions \^"olf had exhi- c2 F 42 THE fisher's daughter. bited an undaunted and vigorous manliness of cha- racter, extraordinary for his early years, when only a mere boy ; when first he came beneath the roof of the fisher he had evinced this admirable feature of disposition, and none more highly appreciated this quality in Wolf than the fisher Blust himself, who hated any thing that looked delicate or feminine in the male sex; for certainly it must be admitted that some gentlemen do exhibit, both in person and mind, a wom.an's fears, and a woman's affectation, all of which the boy Wolf was exempted from in the dis- cernment of his protector. But as he grew to man- hood, this energy had not decreased, and it never was more apparent than at this precise moment, when the name of a beloved object called it into action ; nor did it fail to make an indelible impression on the mind of Mr. Blust, although it occasioned a deep and heart- felt regret, that the affections of this fine, intrepid, and noble minded youth, were centred in an object who could never return the fervent passion with which her loveliness and worth had inspired his youthful breast, for she was a married woman ; and though it was evident that this passion was inspired long before she had given her hand to Lord Montague Montault, yet it was no less fatal if ever it should chance to become known to her husband, who per- fectly adored his young and lovely wife, and watched over her, it was probable, with a too fond and jealous eye ; at least such was the current report of the fa- shionable recorders of fashionable times and fashion- able marriages. But whether true or false, we must leave for the Lady Agatha herself to know ; whose THE fisher's daughter 43 roseate lips were ever sealed in silence on u husuand's faults, if faults in her eyes he had any ! But to return to the party on horseback, who were just before the door of Jessy's habitation ; notwith- standing which, the fisher, whose fear that Wolf was inspired with a dangerous, and certainly an improper passion for the Lady Agatha, and who seeing the firm spirit which was depicted in his countenance, and that nothing but the natural manliness of his character prevented him from shedding tears in declaring that he never more would repeat the name of the object of his adoration, could not forbear to offer him a word of consolatory advice, by way of a palliative for the severity of his before sharp rebuke, and exclaimed, backing his horse a little from the door, that they might not be overheard — " Shiver my topsails ! dost not thee droop lad, there be more women in the world than Agatha, though to be sure she was the sweetest little soul that ever breathed ; and to tell you a bit of a secret lad, I had half a mind to have married her myself,-though I were old enough to be her father." " And had Agatha half a mind to you, sir ?" uttered Wolf, reddenmg like scarlet at the bare supposition that such an event had ever been likely to have taken place, while she was under the fisher's protection. To which Peter laughing replied — " I never asked her ; though I had a mortal mind to it ; but that was before she turned out to be a great lady. But I say, don't ye fret, that's a good lad, don't ye fret, for when thee goes a soldiering thee wilt see 44 TUB fisher's daughter. plenty of lasses. There's no scarcity of women folks any where, thee knowest, lad.** " But I should think there was, sir," cried Wolf^ deeply sighing, " a prodigious scarcity of such women as resemble Agatha.'* The fisher could not reasonably deny the tnith of this assertion, and once more recommending Wolf to be cautious of mentioning the Lady Agatha in the pre- sence of Jessy or her husband, dashed with Old Bess over a high fence of hawthorn that skirted the way to the entrance of the residence of his beloved daughter, and giving a loud whistle very quickly brought both her and Samuel to the gate, with an exclamation pro- nounced by the lovely Jessy of — " Oh, my dear father, ten thousand welcomes !*' '* Look who I have brought along with me to see you Jess," uttered the fisher, smacking his whip over Wolf's shoulders, who was dismounting at the same instant, and whom both Jessy and her husband cor- dially received -, nor did they give Alfred a less warm welcome. " Dear Wolf — dear Alfred,*' alternately escaped from th€ lips of the sweet Jessy, who, hurrying them into the parlour, ordered breakfast to be immediately pre- pared, with some more substantial food than tea and' muffins for her dear father ; who having several times kissed his darling girl, began to survey her altered shape, (for Mrs. Russel evidently appeared to be in that happy state in which ^ women wish to be who love their lords,*) with peculiar satisfaction, and re- gardless of the presence of the young men, loudlv vc»^ cife rated — • THE fishbr's daughter. 45 " Shiver my topsails 1 I be glad to see thee so round and so plump my Jess ; and so I dare say be 3am Russelj — beant thee, Sam ? But 1 tell thee what Jess, if thee dost not bring forth a chopping boy, I shall be mortally vexed, that's all; but if it be a girl — shiver my topsails ! if I'll have any thing to do with it, it shan't have a single bright shiner from Peter Blust. Sam, come, let's see what sort of a bottle you keep in your locker ?'" A bottle of excellent brandy was instantly produced and set before Peter, with some pipes and tobacco, with which he immediately sat down without farther ceremony to regale himself, leaving his daughter at liberty to entertain her young visitors in what manner she liked best, and to enter into the most unreserved conversation together ; which was rendered extremely interesting on both sides, and in which Mr. Russel sometimes joined, whenever he had a moment to spare from his attendance on his father-in-law, who kept him in full employment with lighting of pipes, pouring out glasses of brandy, filling his tobacco box, and making of grog, to say nothing of being obliged to give him a long and accurate account of the success of the herring fishery along the coast ; in short Sam had but little leisure to pay attention to his young friends and old acquintances Wolf and Alfred, who, he remarked to Mr. Blust in a low voice, were prodigi- ously grown and wonderfully improved. '* Wolf in particular," observed Mr. Russel; " I think he is the finest young man I ever beheld." " Yes, he is a strapper, beant he Sam ?" uttered the fisher, ** and what do you think he is going to be, 46 THK fisher's daughter. why, shiver my topsails ! a lobster ; and Smockface (this elegant appellation was frequently given to Al- fred, on account of the uncommon fairness of his complexion, by his protector) is going to be a par- son." " A parson !" echoed Mr. Russel with involuntary surprise. ^^ Yes, shiver my topsails ! a parson," repeated Pe- ter, chuckling; ^' 1 say, Sam, the lad knows which side to butter his bread, don't he ?" Mr. Russel smiled at the remark, perfectly aware of its allusion. In the meanwhile, Jessy (breakfast being over) proposed a walk over the beautiful plan- tations which were contiguous to her pleasant, lovely, and sequestered abode ; which was immediately as- sented to by Wolf and Alfred, but positively declined by Mr. Blust, who swore he would not budge an inch to please the king. " But you may go and welcome, lads," uttered he, ** your legs are young, but my stumps are getting cranky; no matter, they will serve me mayhap till I am a sheer hulk, and then any body else may have them if they please." What was to be done ? — the fisher could not be left by himself; and his son in law was (of necessity) the most proper personage to stay and keep him company. This point being settled, the walking party sallied forth into the plantation. Jessy took an arm of each of her young companions, and the njost agreeable chit-chat between them ensued. " And so, dear Wolf, you are actually inclined to enter into the military service," cried Jessy, " well, I THE fisher's daughter. 47 don't wonder at the election you have made; indeed, 1 always thought when you were a boy, that you would be a soldier ; you were so courageous and spirited, to what other youth were of the same age." *^ Ah ! dear Jessy, but I am not so courageous in all things," uttered Wolf, observing that Jessy still wore on her right hand a ring given her by the Lady Agatha in the earliest days of their friendship, when at Herring Dale, and in which was enclosed some of her beautiful hair, the sight of which produced an in- voluntary sigh from the heart of the devoted youth ; ^vhile ]\Irs. Russel, perceiving on what object his eyes were fixed, though perfectly unconscious of the deep passion that her lovely friend had so early inspired in the heart of Wolf, whose attachment to the Lady Agatha she attributed to boyish gratitude, innocently exclaimed — " I perceive by your looking so earnestly at this ring, Wolf, that you remember it was the gift of my dear Agatha." To which Wolf answered with a sigh, " Ah, Jessy, those were happy days !" *^ Were they," cried Jessy, '^not so happy methinks as the present ones ; happy — how strangely you talk. Wolf! you surely cannot deem those days happy, which were a source of misery both to me and Agatha Singleton ; for still must I call her so, for by that name I loved her best." " And so did I, dear Jessy !" repeated Wolf, invo- luntarily, " ah I would to heaven she had known no other !" 4B THE fisher's daughter. Jessy now perceived the agitated look and flushed cheek of Wolf, and with some surprise answered, — " Nay, now you talk stranger still, for had she known no other name but Singleton, she would never have known that which nature gave her, or been restored to her father, and the Duke had yet remained ignorant of the existence of his lovely daughter." " I did not mean the name of her father," uttered Wolf indignantly. " Why what name then can you possibly mean ?" inquired the now astonished Jessy, " she has but one other, and that is the name of her husband. Wolf 1 Wolf! let me not suppose that — " Suppose what, dear Jessy," uttered Wolf. Alfred had walked on a few paces before, in order to look at a vessel which was sailing out of the har- bour, and was by this time out of the hearing of the conversation of his companions. And Jessy, looking full in the face of Wolf, softly murmured — " Let me not suppose that Wolf has any objection to the name of Lord Montague Montault, because he is the husband of Agatha Singleton." *' Jessy you have probed me deeply," uttered the agitated youth, though with a firm undaunted look, and decisive voice, ^^ yet I disdain to utter a falsehood; had your lovely friend another name, another title, it would still sound like the knell of departed happiness to the ear of Wolf, as that she bears does now. Oh I Jessy, sweet, gentle Jessy, inquire no farther into this mystery of my feelings, if yet a mystery it still appears to you. Agatha is married ! — and Wolf — is — an iso» THE fisher's daughter. 49 iatcd being, banished from her hearenly smiles. The Indian worships the sun's morning splendour, but Wolf, miserable Wolf, dare not worship the shrine which he adores ! Oh ! Jessy, Jessy !" and to the inexpressible heart-felt concern of Jessy, the agitated youth, at the conclusion of these words, burst into a convulsive flood of tears, which greatly relieved his oppressed heart. Ashamed however of betraying this weakness in the presence of a female, he apologized to Jessy for thus intruding his sorrows on her gentle heart. " In which they repose as securely as in your own, dear Wolf," uttered she. " Before this day you knew the disposition of Jessy, and have no fear that she will betray the secret of your heart." They were now seated on a bench, constructed by Samuel out of the trunk of an aged oak, which had fallen in the plantation, and it was removed to the garden for the convenience of I\Irs. Russel, whenever bhe was fatigued in pruning her plants and flowers, by her affectionate and attentive husband ; and when they arrived at the spot where it was, she persuaded Wolf to sit down, and endeavour to recover his wonted energy; but such was the surprize that the confession of Wolf had thrown her in by the avowel of his im- prudent passion for the Lady Agatha, that Jessy was actually in want of composure herself, though deter- njined not to let this opportunity which was afforded to her, by being alone with Welf, pass without giving him a necessary caution against cherishing so improper an attachment for the lovely wife of Lord a3 G 50 THE fisher's daughter. Montague Moritault, and addressed him in the follow ing manner: — *' Wolf, it is fortunate for you, that the object on whom you have so imprudently and rashly placed your affections, is unconscious of the passion with which she has inspired you.'* To which Wolf replied — "It may be imprudent, but you cannot call it rash, because I have loved her even when I was a boy, un- conscious by what name to distinguish the sentiments I felt towards her; it sprung in my heart spontane- ously, and that heart has bled for her ever since. It was a guiltless feeling; I cannot describe its sensation, still it was one of the most delightful I had ever ex- perienced. It did not deprive me of rest, for in my dreams it accompanied me in the form of Agatha Sin- gleton. When I read in any books that described the beauty and the innocence of angels, faultless as they were fair, I had Agatha Singleton immediately before me. There was not either an animate object, or ina- nimate one that was lovely to look upon, that did not remind me of her. When I have smelt to the frag- rance of the fresh new-blown flowers in the early morning, I thought they were as sweet as Agatha Singleton ; when I listened to the melody of the tune* ful nightingale, I imagined it was the silver-toned voice of Agatha Singleton. The moon, the stars, the glorious sun, all the bright firmament of the shining heavens, associated with some beautiful thought in- spired by the deep glow of love, I felt for Agatha Singleton ; and when at night I addressed the Deity of all created universe, one gentle prayer alone re- THE fisher's daughter. 51 served, I breathed for Agatha Singleton ! Does this seem like rash love, or sudden ? Oh, Jessy ! forbear to call it so. Forget Agatha Singleton ! — when, Jessy, the pale characters of death shall mark this altered cheek. Forget Agatha Singleton i — teach nie how sweet Jessy, unless you can teach me to forget my- self, for my soul's far dearer part is — Agatha Sin- gleton." " The wife of Lord Montague Montault !" uttered Jessy, in a tone of reprehension, though not unmoved by the beautiful and impressive manner in which Wolf had described his love for her accomplished friend; but it was not the intention of Jessy to let Wolf see how much he had affected her by it, it was her wish to inspire him with different sensations ; and she re- peated with peculiar and pointed expression, *^ a mar- ried wife, for whom you are thus expressing such passionate love, — for shame Wolf. 1 tremble at your temerity — for your safety ; should such a thought be breathed into the ear of a fond and doating husband, it would drive him to desperation — to madness. Lord Montague is already jealous of his lovely wife. Wolf beware of him." But the bloom which had rested only but a moment before on the cheeks of the spirited Wolf, suddenly changed to an ashy paleness, as he exclaimed — " Lord Montague jealous of his wife ! Of whom is he jealous? For God*s sake, pray, tell me!" Jessy was alarmed at the impetuous manner of Wolf, and insisted that he would be calm. '^ Why, so I will, if you will tell me of whom Lord Montague is jealous," uttered Wolf; " but while UBRARY 52 THE fisher's DAUGHTER. doubt remains, I am in torture." And Jessy very quickly replied — " He is jealous of no one earthly object, but of all who approach her. His lordship is addicted to jea- lousy, the most incurable of all passions that agitate the human breast." " Then Agatha is miserable," cried Wolf. " Ob, Jessy I that angelic lovely woman is doomed to per- petual misery, while ever she remains a wedded wife." Jessy was obliged to acknowledge that such was her fear for the happiness of her beloved friend. '^ Oh that marriages had never been invented," cried Wolf, '' or that they were rendered binding by certain restrictions. I would have every jealous husband and every jealous wife kicked to the devil." The manner and the look of Wolf as he uttered this, would have made it scarcely possible to have resisted laughter, if Jessy had been in a laughing mood ; but far other thoughts employed her mind, and her thoughts were now engrossed by the threatening evil which was impending over the head of Wolf, if he continued to cherish in his elevated heart a passion which would be destructive to his peace, as that which he professed to feel for the Lady Agatha. Meanwhile Wolf was enduring the most torturing suspense, to know precisely the real state of feelings which Lady Agatha was suffering, from this unhappy faihng in her husband, and how Jessy had arrived to this knowledge of their family concerns ; for the fisher had confessed that his daughter and Lady Agatha had never been oh terms of familiar intimacy since her marriage with Samuel Russel, for reasons as before stated, that Lord THE fisher's daughter. 53 Montague was proudly jealous of any object who had known his lovely wife in her humble and dependent situation, when she passed for the reputed daughter of Captain Singleton, and with him only would he permit her to hold any intercourse, or acknowledge any for- mer acquaintance 3 not that his lordship's doors were barred against Peter Blust, but on Jessy's marriage with Mr. Russel, whose former passion for Miss Sin- gleton Lord Montague had been no stranger to, he peremptorily forbid his lady from ever admitting Jessy and her to renew any intimacy. Astonished and pain- ed by an injunction so wounding to her feelings, Aga- tha wept in silence, but iaiplicitly obeyed her husband's stern commands ; but these tears never flowed in the presence of her lord ; while Jessy, surprised at the apparent cool reception she met with at Montault Castle, complained of it to her father, who, with a spirit highly creditable to his feelings, never himself entered the castle more, though often solicited by Lord Montague so to do. " No, shiver my topsails, if ever they catch me there again," said the fisher, after what Jessy, with tears in her lovely eyes, had related to him. "What, frown on my Jessy, that is as gentle and quiet as a lamb, only because she went civilly to enquire after the health of her old acquaintance Agatha Singleton, that her father took such care of, when she had nobody to take care of her at all ? Why, shiver my topsails, if this be the way that your great lords do pay their debts of gratitude, it may serve their turn in this world, but curse me if it will help them over the style in the next. Turn up their noses at my Jessy ! Wounds, 54 tRE fisher's daughter. but 1 wish I had been along-side of them, 1 would have let my lord know, and his servants too, which was the better man, if any of them had dared to offer any affront to my Jessy." This, and many more sentences escaped from the lips of the enraged fisher, in consequence of the coohjess with which Mrs. Russel had been treated at the castle of Montault; and he never afterwards forgave the offence, or would ever enter the castle more ; while the lovely wife of Lord Montf^ult mourned in silence and in secret the loss of the friendship of Mr. Blust, ber once kind and generous protector, and the society of her dear and gentle Jessy; and lamented that un- happy failing in the disposition of her husband, which, like an evil and malignant spirit, still haunted him in the form of jealousy, and banished repose even from the downy pillow, which was o'er canopied with smil- ing love and beauty. But what was to be done after marriage to remedy this evil ? The lovely Agatha was unconscious of this propensity in Lord Montague Mon- tault before he had her to the Hymenial altar, or most certainly she would have shunned the sacrifice that was preparing to shut her out from peace and happiness for ever. But the impervious veil that hides the book of fate, was not permitted to be withdrawn, to reveal the future destiny of this angelic creature. The hidden page lay concealed, when before the holy altar she re- signed her lovely hand, with her virgin heart, entirely to the possession of her lord, her husband. Lord Mon- tague Montault. Monarchs might have contended for, and owned themselves happy in such a prize; and so was Lord Montague Montault ; he was the most trans- THE fisher's daughter. 55 ported of husbands, when, on his bridal day, he was congratulated by all his friends, on the possession of the hand of Lady Agatha Braganza; and for a while, the lovely smile of his bewitching wife banished the demon that so perpetually haunted his repose, from a pillow crowned with love and roses. But scarcely had the honey moon which lighted him to love and to happiness in the arms of his adored Agatha, — scarce had it flown, when the spirit of jealousy again returned, to visit the tortured breast of her self- devoted victim. His lovely bride at first, unconscious of the approach of this dark fiend, knew not by what name to call the fits and starts and violent passions to which her lord very shortly became subject after their marriage; and it was never more apparent than when they were vi- sited by any of the gay circle of his mother's and sis- ter's fashionable acquaintance, where Agatha was the star of attraction ; she was followed, admired, adored — the idol of universal admiration. The duke her father was flattered by the praises bestowed on his lovely daughter, but they were petrifying, nay horrifying, to the jealous feelings of a doating husband. He grew captious — by turns melancholy and passionate — se« eluded himself from company — anc' secluded his wife also in dreary solitude : the eyes of Agatha were open — Lord Montague was jealous. ! Alas ! love's flattering and ecstatic dream was over. Each morn returned, but never more to witness returning happi- ness in the lovely bosom of Braganza's daughter. 56 THK FtStiBU-3 DAUGHTER. CHAPTER HI. •* From far came the ancient Britons, A gallant advent'rous train ; They hoisted their dragon banner. And shipp'd it over the main ; They voyaged with igenerous daring. And spirit so light and free ; They sail'd for the summer country". That's over the hazy sea. They braved the element's anger. The rage of water and fire. The gulphs that whirl to the centre. Volcanoes whose flames aspire ; And they steer'd through storm and tempest, Vet sung with chivalrous glee. The songs of the summer country, That's over the hazy sea.'* Jessy parted with Wolf without thinking it neces- sary to divulge to him by what means she had gained intelligence of the secret, that the Lady Agatha was rendered unhappy by her fatal marriage with Lord Montague Montault, because Jessy was bound by an oath never to reveal it ; not even to her father was Jessy permitted to unfold the mystic sorrows which lacerated the bosom of her lovely friend, for mystic they seemed to all who had any acquaintance with her. They could not account how a woman so exalted in birth, and who moved in such earthly THE fisher's daughter. 5? splendour, could ever feel a moment's uneasiness ; but this mystic veil was lifted up to the eyes of Jessy, who enjoyed a private intercourse with her unhappy friend; in her bosom had Agatha found means to impart her secret griefs — to her bosom had Agatha reposed the dread burthen which oppressed her overcharged heart. To Jessy only had she revealed the fatal cause why she was no longer happy, even with the man whom she loved dearest, for he was jealous of her, with no earthly cause to warrant his suspicions. Chaste as holy angels was the purity of Agatha; and though ap* proached with admiration, it was adulation that she courted not, and homage that she had never sought after. No one earthly being claimed her affections, save alone her wedded lord and husband ; her father indeed claimed his share in the heart of his only and beloved child, but that love was filial, and to him she could show it without fear. But there was another object who scarcely claimed it less than the Duke Braganza, and that was Captain Singleton, whose ill state of health she deeply felt, (for his constitution had been greatly impaired for some time.) What did not Agatha owe to him ? Could a whole life of gratitude repay him for that perilous hour when his arm was up- hfted to rescue both her and her hapless unfortunate mother from a watery grave ? What did she not owe to him, and to him only, for the kind the tender pro- tection he had afforded her through all her infant days, till she approached to the state of wom&nhood ? Was there a tie more sacred, a term too tender to be ap- plied to that pure and chaste intercourse of affection which had so locg subsisted between them ? surely not* ^S' THE FISHERS DAUGHTER^ Holy angels had witnessed the strong attachment of Agatha to her protector, who she believed was the author of her being, and to whom she had ever paid the filial duties of an affectionate daughter j and in the supposition that death had deprived her of him, she had wept and mourned his loss with the most uu- controlable grief and affection. Was it therefore likely that she could divest herself of this affection when he was so suddenly restored to her, or that because she found a father in the Duke of Braganza, that she was no longer to regard the protec- tor of her youthful years with the same warmth of sentiment that she had formerly done, when she ima- gined herself to be his daughter. Forbid it gratitude,, and forbid it common decency ! And after her mar- riage with Lord Montague Montault, the lovely Agatha became more strongly attached to the society of her foster father, and frequently passed whole days with him in his beloved Cottage on the Cliff, without any apparent objection being made by her husband to the tender and chaste intercourse which subsisted between them ; nay Lord Montague very often himself accom- panied her to visit the Captain, because it was proba- ble that the Captain, (save her own father,) was the only personage he could bear to gaze on the charms of his beautiful wife without betraying some symptoms of the approach of the green-eyed monster, who, in the words of the immortal bard, so often ' mocks the meat it feeds on ;*.^nd Lord Montague was certainly not jealous of Captain Singleton. Of a fine summer morning Lady Montault would order her carriage at an early hour, and in plain and simple attire, (such as THE fisher's daughter. 69 -she used to be habited in when she was called Miss Singleton,) take a ride over to the Cottage on the Cliif; at the same time that she presented some little token of respect^ or rather of affection for ber beloved foster father, such as a basket of fine choice fruit, fresh ga- •thered from the gardens of the Castle of Montault, some lovely game, or delicious flavoured fish ; in short, there was no delicacy thought of by Agatha, that she did not immediately procure and cany with her for the Captain, whenever she paid him a morning visit at the Cottage on the Cliff; and on some occasions, (but these were veiy seldom,) when she found the state of his health more languid than usual, she would insist on remaining his guest for th^ whole of the day, and the carriage would return home without her, but always accompanied with a short explanatory note to her husband, informing him of the cause of her ab- sence, which certainly met with no dissenting voice for some length of time from Lord Montague Mon- tault ; or if he felt any displeasure at the exemplary at- tention shewn by Agatha to the invalid Captain, his lordship was ashamed of avowing it, and therefore hci* frequent visits to the Cottage were suffered to pass in silence. In short, at the commencement they were rather conducive to the happiness of Lord Montague than otherwise; for at the Cottage Agatha could not be ^een by the gay and admiring throng that formed so large a circle of his mother's fashionable acquaintance in the Castle of Montault. She always went to see her foster father in a plain dress, whether it was morn- ing or evtning, which modestly concealed rather than -displayed the outward graces of her lovely form ; and 60 THE fisher's daughter. there she saw no one but the Captain and his au- cicnt domestic, who acted in the capacity of cook and housekeeper in the Cottage on the Cliff; and these for a while were consolatory reflections to the mind of a jealous husband. But how long did these reflections last ? Alas ! the period was fast approaching, when the consolation they had afforded him was no more; for the Captain's health grew worse, and his increas- ing dangerous symptoms made it necessary for the vi- sits of Agatha to be more frequently repeated, nor did she ever return home till a late hour. On the en- quiry of her lord as to the state in which she had left the invalid Captain, Agatha, whose lovely eyes were already swollen with weeping, once burst into a fresh and involuntary flood of tears, exclaiming — " Oh he is much worse, Montague, — indeed he is much worse than I have yet beheld him. The hectic fever which consumes his fine form, and alternately pales and flushes his once animated cheek, hourly in- creases, and wastes his bodily strength i yet how ener- getic still are his mental faculties— how firmly and mildly bears he all the infirmities with which it has pleased the gracious Heaven to afflict him. Oh, were it not impiety to murmur at its decrees, I could breathe a fervent prayer that this bitter cup might yet pass from his lips, and that many many years might be spared to my dear dear foster father; but that wish is vain, and that prayer is unavailing I" and fresh tears fell in torrents over the lovely face of Agatha, during which her husband was surveying her agitated looks with the most scrutinizing, and possibly jealous atten- tipn, while he exclaimed after a serious pause, i» THE fisher's daughter. 61 which it was evident he was endeavouring to suppress some emotions he had not the language to explain — *' But although it is impiety to murmur, it does not appear that you think it impiety to weep, my Agatha. Your tears have flowed abundantly for Captain Single- ton : — you could do no more tor your father, for your husband — probably — " The whole soul of Agatha was instantly aroused by this keenly cutting and unmerited reproach of her lord, for on no occasion since her marriage rites had been solemnized, or that she had been acknowledged as a daughter of the Duke of Braganza, had she neglected to perform her duty towards them, or did not mani- fest the most tender proofs of her unchanging love. And reproachfully she answered, — while yet a tear moist- ened her lovely cheek, and she rested her snowy hand on the shoulder of her indignant lord, while she yet cast a smile of ineffable sweetness towards him, the fascination of which immediately occasioned him to repent of having used any harsh expression to wound her feelings ; but it was too late to repair the mischief he had made, or the pain he had inflicted on her gentle sensitive bosom, too sensitive indeed of the intempe- rate warmth of her husband, when she thus replied — " Not shed tears for my father, nor for you, Mon- tague, were either of you suffering the same fatal disease as poor Captain Singleton. And is this the opinion you have so ungenerously formed of your Agatha ? What part of my conduct since 1 have been your wife, or have been acknowledged as the daughter ©f Braganza, has justified such cruel, such unjust sur- i«^^ 62 mises ? tell me, and I shall be satisfied ; but at the same instant permit me to declare, that whether l)cing your wife, or the duke's daughter, I am to cherish iu- . gratitude towards the protector of my early days, him whom I knew by no other name than father, and whose humanity alone preserved my mother and her child from an untimely grave; if you expect that I am to desert him in the hour of sickness, when the nies- senger of death is now hovering over his pillow, — Oh, Montague ! can you indeed think of your Agatha so unkindly? Should 1 not be the basest, the most un- worthy of human beings, were 1 to quit the dying bed of my foster father, and leave him to perish, without one friendly hand to close his dying eyelids? Say, did he leave my mother thus ? Did he not watch by that much wronged expiring sufferer, till the last spark of life was flown? and to whom did she consign her helpless infant ? why, even to him, but for whose care I should have perished too — and you bid me desert him! No, never! command your Agatha to do all but that, and she will most willingly and implicitly obey your commands; but 1 will never desert Captain Sin- gleton while ought of feeble life remains." Shame, contrition, compunction, and remorse, were visibly betrayed on the countenance of the penitent husband as he listened to the melodious accents of his angelic wife; her soul-speaking eloquence shone ra- diently in her dark expressive eyes, and the energy with which her soul was filled added a brighter glow to her complexion, pale in general, but now brilliant with the colour of nature's bloom. Never had she THE fisher's 1)AUGHTER. 63 seeiiied So lovely in the eyes of her still adoring hus- band, and falling nearly prostrate at her feet, he ex- claimed — ** Agatha, dearest Agatha, forgive me ! I know I am culpable in thus unnecessarily and cruelly inflicting pain on your genile feelings ; but forgive me Agatha, and I swear never to offend you more. Poor Single- ton, my heart bleeds for him ; and though I have thus hastily expressed myself, had I the wealth of worlds, and that wealth could restore him, I would part with it freely to be once more reinstated in the good opinion of my Agatha." " Ah, my lord ! restore yourself to your own good opinion, and it will require but little of your eloquence to restore you to mine," cried Agatha, gently attempt- ing to raise his drooping head which had fallen on her knee. In this situation they were suddenly sur- prised by the entrance of the Marchioness his mother, and Lady Lavinia his sister, and a loud and involuntary burst of immoderate laughter was the result of both ladies discovering the attitude of the newly married pair, while the Marchioness somewhat sneeringly ex- claimed — '' Well, 1 protest this is a prodigiously novel sight, a bride and bridegroom, after the honey moon is quite over, to be kneeling at each others feet like a fond shepherd and shepherdess. Lavinia, my love, don't you attempt to copy such an example for your en- trance to matrimony, for you will positively be laughed at when you become the bride of Lord Winstone, to see you performing the part of a couple of love-sick turtle doves, to the no small amusement of all your 64 THE fisher's daughter. acquaintance. But pray my dear Agatha, what has Montague done to offend you, that he must needs thus prostrate himself at your feet to sue for pardon and forgiveness? it is really the height of absurdity to see you both acting so ridiculously." So saying, the Marchioness seated herself in a chair, while both Lord and Lady Montague stood the further test of her ladyship's ironical pleasantry ; while at '.ength Agatha replied with a calm and dignified com- posure, and by no means regarding the contemptuous looks or manner of her mother-in-law, with whom, for divers causes, she had never been a favourite* " I really cannot give your ladyship a very expla- natory account of the scene which seems to afford both you and Lady Lavinia so much amusement, otherwise than by assuring you that Lord Montague had certainly said something to offend me, and that he chose himself the prostrate situation in which you found him to solicit my forgiveness, for the absurdity of which he is alone to blame, and not me.*' " Indeed, my love, and is that all ?" cried the Mar- chioness, laughing. " Well, the next time that he chooses to go down on his knees, pray send for an artist and have his likeness taken precisely in that po- sition, it will be so truly comic." " And yet there was more of the tragic than the comic muse which then inspired my feelings," uttered Lord Montague with a pensive sigh, and by no means either relishing his mother's sarcastic raillery, or en- tering into the spirit of her uncommon propensity to laughter; and perceiving him to be out of humour, her ladyship immediately dropt all further explanation THE FISHER*S DAUGHTER. 0B on the subject, observing that she had merely come out for a morning lounge to kill ennuie, as they expect- ed a large party to a late dinner, and if they were not better engaged, should be glad of their company. " Lord Winstone will be one of the number," added her ladyship ; " and as he is now generally knowTi to be the accepted lover of your sister, I wish you Montague to pay his lordship some attention." *^ And are not the attentions which he receives from vou and my father quite sufficient ?" cried Lord Mon- tague : ^' what need has he of mine ; or that I should so sedulously court his acquaintance, who never sought mine?'* " La, brother, what a savage you are this morning!" exclaimed Lady Lavinia, reddening like scarlet. *^ Aga- tha, what is the matter with him to make him so ill- natured ?" " Ah, do tell us who has been vexing the pretty dear !" uttered the Marchioness in a coaxing accent, and patting his lordship's cheek with her parasol ; '* but come my dear Montague to our splendid party, and we will soon contrive to charm away this sombre look of yours. There will be the Duke, and, as I told you be- fore, Lord Winstone, and that rattlebrain his friend, the handsome and elegant Sir George Cleveland, and half a dozen elegant creatures besides. You remember Sir George Cleveland, you know, who used to admire one of old Peter Blust's daughters, Agatha, the eldest, I believe, who happened to have that unfortunate af- fair with the young fisher that sent the poor girl so quietly to her grave : but now we talk of fishess, pray how is poor Singleton ? He is visited by one of our c 3 I 6G THE fisher's daughter. physiciitis, who told the Marquis the other day that he! is on his last legs, and dying of a consumption. Have you seen the Captain lately, Agatha?'* A question more malapropos could not have been demanded at the present moment, for it renewed the heart-felt grief of Agatha, while it reminded her of lord the pain he had so lately given to his lovely wife, who sighing deeply^ replied — *^ The intelligence which the physician communis cated to the Marquis is indeed too true, your ladyship. I saw the Captain yesterday evening, and there is little doubt, from the dangerous symptoms which he exhi- bits, that his disease, which is a confirmed consump- tion of the lungs, will shortly terminate fatally." *^ Dear me, how shocking !" exclaimed Lady La- vinia. " I liked the Captain very much^ he was really a very good sort of civil kind of a man, was not he Mamma?" *' Captain Singleton was, and is still a perfect gen- tleman/' uttered Agatha with some warmth, although the eyes of her husband were fixed on her with peculiar earnestness ; " a gentleman by birth, education, and manners, and that's a character as worthy of respect as the proudest peer of the realm." , ^'^Yes, the old gentleman is tolerable enough,*' cried the Marchioness : " the Marquis was highly pleased with his conversation the last time he visited the cas- tle, and gave orders that he should always be admitted whenever he left his home. Still I always thought the Captain singularly romantic in his disposition ; perhaps an affair of gallantry in his youthful days had given his mind this melancholy cast, which he could never af- THE fisher's daughter. 67 terwards divest himself of. Was it so Agatha ? Did you never hear that he was once crossed in love with a lady whose affections he could never obtain?" To which Agatha replied — " Yes, your ladyship, it was certainly no tale of fic- tion, for to the lady that he so passionately loved I was indebted for the instruction of my youth, and all the early lessons of piety that I ever knew. It w^as '.he Lady Matilda St. Ciair under whose eye I was educated, who was the Abbess of the Convent of the Holy Sisters. Captain Singleton was attached to this lovely lady before she arrived to this dignity, but after her taking the holy and irrecoverable vows, they were of course disunited for ever. It was the wreck of the peace, of the happiness, of poor Captain Single^ ton, and probably has progressively brought him to the state he is now reduced to." " But was there no cause assigned for the Lady Ma- tilda refusing him her hand ?" demanded the Marchio- ness. " If she really loved him, she had a bad taste to prefer the cold walls of a cloister's gloom, to the arms of her warm and passionate adorer." " And a bad heart too, I think," uttered Lord Mon- tague indignantly, ^^ to sport or trifle with the feelings of the man who loved her." *^ Oh believe not that her heart was capable of such inconstancy, such apostacy," exclaimed Agatha; " but she was compelled by the stern authority of her father to refuse the hand of Captain Singleton, or immediately wed another object that was hateful to her ; and of two evils she chose the least, and prayed to take the veil ; this wish was granted to hei', and the lovely Lady 68 THE fisher's DAUGHTERv Matilda shut herself out from the world for ever. At the decease of her unnatural parent she inherited his wealthy possessions, — she presented them to the holy sisterhood — and in succession became Ab» bess of the Convent herself. This is all I know of her history, but I can remember her well, and have often pictured to myself her pale beautiful face when I have looked at the paintings of angels; she was so tran- scendantly fair, so mild, so serene, so heavenly, nor do I doubt of her being now a cherub there/* " My dear creature, you will certainly make both Lavinia and I most prodigiously nervous if you talk in this horrifying manner," cried the Marchioness, look- ing at her watch, and yawning at the same time; " I protest 1 feel quite vapourish already." <' Then your ladyship had better go and try the effect of the vapours in the open air," uttered Lord Monta- gue, impatient for his mother to be gone, in the fear of her renewing the invitation to dinner, not liking the names of any of the party except the Duke Braganza ; but Sir George Cleveland was actually a name of terror to him, for he was certainly handsome, and a gay man of fashion, who admired every beautiful woman who happened to come within the pale of his acquaintance; Dor did he much admire his friend Lord Winstone, although he was shortly to lead his sister to the temple of Hymen ; for both had he heard extol the beauty of his Agatha when she was living under the roof of the fishor, and that to Lord Montague w^as sufficient ground for feeling prejudiced against them. At length the health of Captain Singleton became so alarmingly precarious, that the utmost danger was ap- THE fisher's daughter. (59 prehended by his medical attendants, who had ulti- mately consulted on his case, and as ultimately decided that he could not long survive the fatal disease which had baffled every eflfort of medicine. The deeply afflicted Agatha's heart shrunk at this intelligence, and true to the firm resolution she had adopted, never quitted him, while he unconscious of the fate which had been pronounced by the physicians, smiled in the veiy height of his most acute sufferings, and during one short interval from pain, flattered himself with the hope of speedy recovery, instead of hourly departure for that bourne, from whence no traveller returns to tell his passing tale to mortal ear ; and his uncon- sciousness of his danger was a fresh wound to his fos- ter daughter, who when he talked to her of projected plans which his intelligent and energetic mind had laid out for some improvement in the Cottage on the Cliff, her utmost fortitude could not conceal the agonized sensations she felt, when she reflected that long ere these improvements were effected in his beloved cot- tage, the head that suggested those plans would be laid low in the dust, and the tones of that beloved voice would be heard no more. Insupportably painful was the thought ; and as her snowy hand rested on his warm, feverish, and emaci- ated one, tears, which she had no power of restraining, fell over her beautiful face, and wetted his hand clasped in hers. It seemed to occasion a momentary surprise to the invalid, and being then relieved from pain, and calm and collected in his mental faculties, he demand- ed to know the cause of this sudden agitation. While the weeping Agatha sobbed out — 70 THE FISHBr's daughter. " Sudden I Oh no, my dearest father," for by this title she yet addressed Captain Singleton, " it is not sudden, I have been frequently visited by this dreadful and terrible feeling— ^a presage, a foreboding of I know not what— yet it haunts me perpetually, sleeping or waking it possesses my imagination, and I cannot get the better of my terrors, nor this sad fluttering at my heart." The expressive eyes of Agatha, which would have expressed every emotion of her soul, and there reveal- ed the nature of the fears she had been describing, did not meet those of the invalid Captain, for instantane- ously Agatha turned aside from the penetrating and scrutinizing glance with which he would have surveyed her, for still a slight hectic colouring passed over his cheek at the sight of her tears, and the manner in which she had been describing her sensations ; for he knew she must have powerful cause to have impelled her to dwell on so melancholy a subject 5 and he ex^ claimed — " Terrors, my dear Agatha ! forebodings and pre-- sages, and prophetic fears ! What mean you, my Aga- tha? you were never wont to be superstitious, and you must not encourage such wild phantasies now, or talk of fears that are prophetic ; my love, it is impiety to think thus. This is not the age ot prophecy ; the holy Scriptures have revealed them to us, and with that knowledge let us be content in silenct to adore them ; but to penetrate divine mysteries we cannot, and all human knowledge is vain that would profanely seek to know that which is forbidden to be revealed." Agatha preserved a solemn and profound silence THE fisher's daughter. /I while (he Captain was thus speaking; it was plain he had mistaken her meanini,', and that he imagined the terrors that she had been describing arose from some doubts and fears of a religious kind, which in her heart was so pure and so simple, that she had never once bewildered herself about it, but had implicitly and faithfully relied on its ordinations ; and not wishing that the invalid should cherish such a thought of her religious sentiments, after a pause, she answered him with a seraphic smile — '' My dear father, you are under a great mistake by supposing that I ever had but one unchanging thought of our holy and blessed religion, or that I did not firmly believe the sacred Scriptures to be connected with di- vine truths. No, I entertain no such fears, no such terrors as these ; it was other fears and other terrors that so agonized my heart, that so fearfully possessed my imagination." Agatha sighed deeply as she uttered these words^ but so far from the invalid even then guessing at the fatal terrors which her words and now her looks re* vealed, that he immediately smiled^ and glancing at her lovely shape, which had lately acquired a rotundity in it, wiiich never till this moment had caught his ob* servatlon so perceptibly, he exclaimed— ^' Ah, my dear child, I now begin to perceive all the terrors, presages, and forebodings that your imagination has been conjuring up to alarm you so needlessly; but they are perfectly ridiculous, ray dear creature, and you must exert every energy to arouse yourself from their dangerous influence. You are in that delicate state in which most young married women are, and instead 72 THE fisher's DAUGHTER. of being rejoiced at the approaching event of giving to your husband's arms a tender pledge of your mutual affection, nay very possibly a son and heir, I behold you in tears, and encouraging timid fears which are ultimately futile, and have no reality in them but your imagination ; indeed, my Agatha, it is wrong of you, and will be injurious to your health if you thus ind'Ulge in such groundless apprehensions." The Lady of Lord Montague was now silent, deter- mined to rather bear what she did not really merit, an accusation of want of courage in her present situation, than disclose to her dear foster father the nature of her feelings, or the opinion of the faculty respecting his dis- ease. Yet how necessary was this communication to an apparently dying man, though unconscious of his approaching end. Fallacious hope, how will ye flatter, and how will ye deceive I to the very last pulse of life thy airy pinions flutter around us ! and it was so with Captain Single- ton. Agatha could not impart to him the fatal intelli- gence received from the united consultations of the physicians ; she was a heroine in all but those delicate touches of sensibility, where one single chord broken, vibrates on the heart like an electric shock, that oft in earthquakes convulses the whole face of nature. She could not tell the Captain that he was dying, and if she had, the Captain himself would have smiled at her terrors ; and as there were peculiar days when he felt himself considerably better, (the truest and most melancholy test of this fatal disease,) and betrayed moreassing around her. " For Heaven's sake do not disturb Lady Montault/' uttered his lordship, " let us arrange these melancholy duties as quietly as possible ;" and on being shewn into the chamber which contained the lifeless body of Cap- tain Singleton^ he burst into a flood of tears. But not long was Agatha insensible of the loss she had sustained, for on opening her eyes she perceived Lord Montague sitting near her, and anxiously watch- ing every turn of her countenance ; but she immedi- ately guessed by the expression of his, that her dear foster father was no more, and in frantic accents de- manded, why they had not called her before life was extinct. *^ My dear lady, it was a moral impossibility to do that," cried the old woman, " for I had covered his face with a handkerchief when you left the room to lie down on the sofa, and when I returned again to lift it up, and raise the poor soul's head a little higher, I found he was gone to a better world." Uncontrolable was the grief of Agatha for several successive hours ; and with much difficulty Lord Mon- tague conveyed her home at a late hour. The next morning she was excessively indisposed, and the order of the physicians was to keep her ladyship as quiet and composed as possible, being at this period in the fifth month of her pregnancy ; and her lord fearful of the consequence, never quitted her bedside for r moment ; in short, Lord Montague was in all but one fatal propensity in his disposition^ the most exemplary THE fisher's daughter. 81 and most affectionate of husbands. He had loved Agatha in an humble station of life, comparatively to that to which she was afterwards raised on being theacknow- ledged daughter of the duke his uncle; and although he was proud of her exaltation, yet his love for her, had she still remained the reputed daughter of Captain Singleton, would have been as ardent as ever. Much alarmed therefore by her increasing indisposi- tion, he intreated the physicians to inform him if they thought that any dangerous consequences might ensue from the melancholy scene she had witnessed. To which they replied — *' None in the least, my lord; if Lady Montault is kept quiet, we pronounce that in a few days she will be perfectly recovered. A little fever is at present vi- sible from the effect of agitation, and that is all." Agatha was sometime before she answered the expectation of her physicians ; but her youthful con- stitution, never yet impaired, got the ascendency over the shock she had sustained ; and the assiduities of her fond and attentive husband, very soon brought her mind to a state of composure, and enabled her to tell him what had been the last requests of the dying Captain Singleton, with which he promised cheerfully to comply, whenevei it pleased Providence to give him either a son or a daughter. And in other respects, all directions in his last will and testament were punctually attended to by Lord Montague, which was thought necessary before the funeral obsequies should be per- formed. Accordingly a day was appointed for all persons concerned in it, and whose names were exprc!?sly 64 L 82 THE fisher's daughter. mentioned in the will of the deceas-ed, to meet at Mon- tault House, in order that it might be read in the pre- sence of those to whom Captain Singleton had bequeath- ed the most liberal proofs of his friendship, and testimonials of his warm and unchangeable affection. CHAPTER IV. " Here rests his head upon the lap of earth, A man to fortune and to fame unknown ; Fair science frown'd not on his humble birth, But melancholy mark'd him for her own. Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere. And heaven did a recompence as largely send ; He gave to njisery, (all he had,) a tear ; He g'aiued from heaven, (twas all he wished,) a friend.' Gray The death of Captain Singleton, though expected by some of the inhabitants of Cromer who were ac- customed to be admitted to his presence during the long and painful stages of his protracted illness, ex- cited, notwithstanding, a deep and almost universal sympathy the very moment that it became generally known, for never was a man more respected, or so deservedly lamented by those to whom he was known; ffor it is not always that a man is known by outward THE fisher's dacjghter. 83 actions,), but both the principles and the character of the Captain had been estabhshed and held in venera- tion ; nor \vere the more humble and poorer classes of |)eople in the neighbouring villages without a starting tear and a sorrowing sigh, when the bell of the church at Cromer tolled out heavily the sad and melancholy tidings that poor Captain Singleton was indeed num- bered with the dead. For to the poor he had been uni- formly kind ; and whenever his bounty had been soli- cited by any of the parishioners, his mite was always cheerfully bestowed. The several tradesmen too with whom lie transacted business, had found him equitably just in his dealings, and conscientiously punctual in Jiis payments. By some of the fastidious and illiberal minded he had been thought proud^ (for to what errors are not prejudiced persons prone ?) because it was cer- tainly true that he secluded himself from their society, and lived alone and retired in the Cottage on the Cliff; but surely pride was the least distinguishing feature in the character of the Captain ; for when on his solitary rambles on the beach, he might encounter the poor fishermen, or their wives, or their children, he would stop and give them the time of the day, and very fre- (juent'y this salutation was accompanied by some tri- fling mark of his liberality ; if this was pride, then how strangely had they miscalled urbanity, humanity, and feeling. It is true, however, that he had avoided all inter- course with the wealthy families, who for a short season only visited the coast, because, though wealthy, they were sometimes dangerous and improper connections, mere summer flies that sail with the stream of fashion, 84 THE fishrr's daughter, light, inconstant, and fickle, as the changing wind, or the colours of the rainbow ; and with such personages Captain Singleton was detenniiicd to hold no commu- nication, or tender them any friendship, for to them — "Ah, what was friendship but a name, A eharm that lulls to sleep, A shade that follows wealth and fame, And leaves the wretch to weep.** No, Captain Singleton sought for dearer ties, ana more sacred and congenial affections; in the bosom of retiring shades he did not feel solitary, for his books were his faithful, though silent companions ;. he could there converse with men, e ; if not, ask your own heart that do rightly know the feelings of a father." The amiable JMarquis was certainly at no loss to de- fine the expression of poor Peter's feelings, and most heartily sympathized in them, (for he had not beheld him since the unhappy catastrophe of his eldest daugh- ter,) but by no means wishing him to yield to gloomy retrospections, he filled out another bumper, and drank to the health and future prosperity of the fisher, with- out making any comment on the melancholy subject he had alluded to, in the dishonour and subsequent death of his daughter, which probably had not been so fresh in the recollection of fisher Blust, but for the melancholy occasion on which he had that morning been summoned to the mansion of Lord Montague Montault, which was, namely, the death of Captain Singleton ; and Peter having very feelingly apostro- phized to his memory, in a full glass of brandy, ex- claimed — ^' But it is no matter, my lord, every man must go when his time comes, and that is the truth of it, whe- ther he likes it or not, death stands upon no ceremo- nies. There is no court martial in the business, and no judging by majority, whether he is to whip off the hooks or not, is there my lord ?" c 4 M 90 THE fisher's daughter. " No, yoti are right thei'e, friend Peter," uttered the Marquis, with by no means an ironical expression of a truth, which the gravest and the wisest philosopher, could not controvert ; " the commander-in-chief in this case is absolute, and when he gives the mandate, none dare to disobey its immediate and imperative call. Poor Singleton, I was much affected with the intelli- gence of his death ; he was both a gentleman and a scholar." " And a Christian, and that is better than all be- sides,"" reiterated Peter, with his usual warmth and impetuosity of character, " What's your scholarship and your fine learning, I should be glad to know, if a n)an does not bear an upright heart about him? But as to the Captain, T do believe there was not a better man breathing ; and when I know that a man has done his duty that we see before ns lying a corpse, shiver my topsails if I don't think it every man's duty that is living to speak well of iiim." At this precise moment Lord Montague appeared to inform Mr. Biust that his presence was required, as being a party concerned in the will of the deceased Captain Singleton. At which Peter in much better spirits and humour than when he first encountered Lord Montague, ex- claimed — '^ But I wont go without your father, mind that, so come ^long my lord ; for if 1 should be after commit- ting some blunders with them ould queer looking law- yers, seeing I be a man of no great parts of learning, and all that, why your lordship mayhap n)ay put me to rights again." THE FISHKr's daughter. 91 With these words Peter actually linked his arm with that of the Marquis of Montault, before he was aware of his intention ; and in this situation, to the no small surprise, as well as the amusement of all present, en- tered the ante-chamber where all the witnesses were assembled; and the will being opened upon the table. and the Marquis and his companion being accommo- dated with seats, Mr. Willowby, the solicitor of Lord Montague Montault, began to read it aloud in the fol- lowing words : — to which the witnesses there pre- sent listened v.'ith the most serious and profound at- tention. Peter Blust offering no interruption, but quiefrly supplying himself every now and then with a fresh quid of tobacco, Mr. Willowby then began as fol- lows : — The Will. *^ I, Henry Charles Singleton, do declare and cer- tify, that this being my last will and testament, I give and bequeath to my dear and respected friend, Mr. Peter Blust, of Herring Dale, Cromer, the sum of one thousand pounds, to be paid in sterling monies, in consideration of the friendly services he hath tendered towards me, and also for his fatherly care and protection of the supposed Agatha Singleton, then my reputed daughter, but now the wife of Lord Montague Mon- tault, my whole and sole executor. And I bequeath to the sole heir and surviving daughter of the said Peter Blust, and wife of Samuel Russel, fi-he wont know whether she stands on her head or her heels. But I say, my lord, isn't this a mortal kind action for a man to do on his death bed, to help a couple of honest souls with a tightish bit of money, that couldn't help themselves ? and if the soul of Cap- tain Singleton is not gone aloft for the making of such a will as this, why, I think my lord, there's many ob- liged to sheer off below, that's all. God bless hini, and may his remains" — " Pray Mr. Blust, I entreat you to be quiet till the good company is dispersed," uttered Lord Montague, 04 THE fisher's daughter. extremely hurt at the constant interruptions whicli Peter had made, and the risibility he had excited on so solemn an occasion. Btit to his lordship's entreaties, Peter, with the utmost nonchalence, replied — " They may disperse and be . No, shiver my topsails if I am going to swear neither over the will of Captain Singleton ; but I tell you what, my lord, I will speak my mind if you were the king of England, and 1 do say, that though the Captain remembered some things, that you have quite forgotten them ; and that when I took Agatha Singleton under my roof, and became a father to her in the hour of distress, I did not expect that when you married her, my own child would have been turned from your doors. No, my lord, I did not expect any such thing, and I told you that I would tell you a bit of my mind befoie we part- ed, and so I have, so good morning to you;" and Peter immediately arose, flourishing his hat in his hand in the most whimsical manner that was possible, while reiterated but concealed bursts of laughter prevailed among his surrounding friends ; for Peter Blust had no enemies, every body liked him, for he was not only rich, but he was generous; and in the room here as- sembled, many, (least suspected,) had been indebted to the overflowing of Peter's purse. Of course they ^ere silent when he cast this reproach on the character of the noble lord ; and many there were who knew full well that he deserved it. Peter, however, after having uttered all that his hearc dictated, very quickly made his exit, telling his lord- ship that he need be in no hurry to pay Jessy or him the two thousand pounds. " No, were it twenty, my THli FISHER S DAUGHTER. l>0 lord/' cried Pt-ter, when he had retreated nearly to the door. '^ My Jessy does not want a thousand pounds more than her father does, though God bless the Cap- tain for. thinking of her; yet my girl does not want twenty thousand pounds if she chose to ask me for it^ though she was not deemed a proper companion for Miss Agatha Singleton after your lordship married her." The blood of Lord Montague iiow mounted to his cheek, and he most indignantly exclaimed — *' What do you mean Mr. Blust by this unprovoked insolence, and by calling Lady Montault so repeatedly Agatha Singleton ? Sir, she never was Agatha Sin gletou, and therefore that title does not belong to her." ^' Shiver my topsails then if 1 think she has changed it for a better in becoming your lordship's wife," cried the undaunted Peter j '' for you have made her turn her back on her old friends, and that's no credit to your lordship if you were the king of England." And with this complimentary speech Peter departed, leaving Lord Montague so enraged, or rather inflamed by passion, that he could hardly recover his self-pos- session to bid farewell to his friends whom he had in- vited to his house to be witnesses on this melancholy occasion. Peter's reproaches stung him to the heart, because he felt conscious that he had deserved them, and even his noble father reproved him for the ingrati- tude he had shown to the fisher's family since his mar- riage with his lovely cousin ; and no sooner had the party who had assembled there withdrawn themselves. 9G THE fisher's daughter. than the Marquis, highly dissatisfied with the conduct of his son, exclaimed — " Montague, you have been properly rebuked by the fisher Blust, and though I am your father, I certainly will not espouse your cause when 1 conceive that you are acting improperly; you should have softened ra- ther than have irritated the feelings of such a man, who is evidently piqued with the cool reception you have lately given to his family." " And do you imagine, my lord," uttered Lord Mon- tague indignantly, " that I am going tamely to endure the impertinence of such a boor, or that I should condescend to apologize to him for what manner I choose to conduct the establishment of my family? You cannot imagine that I will ever sanction the vi- sits of Mrs. Russel to Lady Montault, when it is well known that her husband once had the audacity to pay his addresses to my Agatha." ^' Well, and suppose he did," uttered the Marquis, *' there is no great danger of his paying his addresses to her now, I should presume; besides he was rejected by Agatha, who, being single then, was liable to be addressed by any man, in whose breast she might have inspired affection ; nor do 1 see any disgrace attached, much less any blame to be attributed to Mr. Russel, for making an honourable offer of his hand to an object whom he then considered to be his equal. It was paying the then sup})osed Miss Singleton the high- est mark of respect that man can shew to woman ; and I have no doubt that Agatha herself considered it so, though she did not think proper to accept of him. THE fisher's daughter. 9/ But admitting this circumstance, it is not a sufficient plea for the disrespect, nay absolute contempt you have shewn to the daughter of Mr. Blust, by not per- mitting your wife to renew her former intimacy with her. Mrs. Russel was certainly one of the most unex- ceptionable young women I ever beheld ; as a compa- nion for one of her own sex, a more lovely and inno- cent young creature there never was." '• That I acknowledge, my lord," cried Lord Mon- tague, half yielding to the arguments of his noble fa- ther ; " and had the sweet Jessy still retained the name of Blust, that is, had she not married Mr. Russel, I should always have most cordially received her at Montault House." " So you are to treat the poor girl with rudeness, and her father with contempt," reiterated the Marquis, " because she has married a deserving, honest, and in- dustrious young fellow, who makes her an excellent husband, besides inflicting a pang on the heart of your own wife, by being thought guilty of ingratitude to- wards those who were her former friends and protec- tors ? Montague, Montague, I am ashamed of you I" and the Marquis immediately arose to depart, and would certainly have quitted Montault House, under the impression of displeasure with his son, had not that son, deeply hurt by the reproaches of his noble father, and overwhelmed with a sense of shame, that he but too well merited them, elideavoured, by every palliative in his power, to excuse the want of propriety with which the Marquis had taxed him, declaring that he would in future atone for it to the family of the fisher, and endeavour to reconcile himself to the of- o b N 98 THE FISHER S DAUGHTER. fended Jessy as soon as the funeral obsequies of Cap- tain Singleton were over, and the agitation which the event had produced on the mind of his gentle Agatha had subsided ; but that in her present state he vras almost fearful of holding any long or particular conver- sation with her himself, apprehensive of occasioning the slightest return of her indisposition. '' Ah, poor girl ! there is not a doubt but she has suffered greatly in beholding the sufferings of an ob- ject who possessed such strong claims on her gratitude and affection," uttered the Marquis, " which on the part of poor Singleton was as mutual and sincere, an in- contestable proof of which he has evinced towards her to the last moment of his fleeting existence ; what no- bleness of character, what sensibility of heart, has be not exhibited by the bequests he has so generously bestowed on the fisher's family ; and what a compli- ment to Agatha, thus gratefully to remember, and me- ritoriously to reward her benefactors, for their kind- ness to the then supposed distressed orphan daughter of the deceased Captain Singleton. Worthy, excellent man, may his spirit now be receiving the ultimate return for the performance of kind and benevolent ac- tions !" The Marquis closed this affecting apostro- phe to the memory of the lamented Singleton, by suggesting to him the most proper arrangements for the funeral obsequies to be performed, and who were the most proper personages to attend on this melan- choly occasion. " Of course the fisher Blust, and the youths Alfred and Wolf, and even Mr. Russel must necessarily be invited," uttered the Marquis. THE fisher's daughter. 99 " Mr. Russel ?" demanded his lordship, reddeiiiug ]ike scarlet, ''• Is that necessary, my lord ?" To which the Marquis immediately replied — '' You might as well ask, Is the presence of the fisher Blust or any part of his family necessary ? to whom the deceased has bequeathed so considerable a part of his property, saving that which belongs to Agatha; and does not Mr. Russel now form a very principal member of the fisher's family, by becoming the husband of the fisher's daughter ? and being so, would it not be indelicate, nay pointedly insulting, to exclude him from the number of the funeral guests ?" Lord Montague, again ashamed of feeling a sensation he ought immediately to have dismissed on so solemn an occasion, admitted the propriety of the observation of his noble father, with respect to Mr. Russel; and ac- cordingly the ensuing morning, cards of invitation. to the funeral of Captain Singleton were immediately issued out from the Cottage on the Cliff, in which the most respectable personages in the town of Cromer, who had any transaction of business with the deceased, were desired to attend, also Mr. Peter Blust, his son- in-law Mr. Samuel Russel, and Wolf and Alfred, the adopted sons of the fisher, received due notice of the day for the interment of the remains of their departed friend. Mr. Blust, as having known the deceased under pe- culiar circumstances when first he came a stranger to the coast, the Marquis (to whom Lord Montague had deputed the sole management on this solemn occa- sion) considered the most proper personage to follow as a chief mourner with Lord Montague Montault, as 100 THB fisher's daughter. being the husband of the Lady Agatha, formerly the foster daughter of the deceased Captain Singleton; and this circumstance being well known to the inhabitants of Cromer, it was a necessary point of duty for Lord Montague to follow as chief mourner with Mr. Blust, whether his lordship thought it derogatory or not. Next were to follow the two youths, Wolf and Alfred, from the supposed similarity of their fate to that of Captain Singleton on the night of the tempest. Next were to follow Mr. Samuel Russel and the vvorthy Dr. Lessington, who had. been for succeeding months the chief medical attendant of the deceased, and on whose skill he had implicitly relied, from the first approaches of that fatal disease which had terminated his exist- ence, more than to the physicians who had occasion- ally been called in ; but Dr. Lessington, though one of the most clever men in his profession, had proved, as on a former occasion with the unfortunate daughter of Mr. Blust, that human means cannot preserve life, when he, the universal Disposer and Giver of it, thinks proper to take it away. Next followed some of the most respectable and principal inhabitants of the town Df Cromer. The Duke of Braganza, and the Marquis of Montault, followed in their respective carriages, all hung with black; and to these, several carriages fol- lowed, out of respect to the illustrious family of the Montaults, but who had first begged permission of the Marq- y STREK.. 3-»iSVOfc- THE FISHEK S DAUGHTER. 119 green mount, around which she had planted a variety of flowers of the most choice collection, and he trem- bled so excessively during this conversation concerning the Lady Agatha, that she almost repented having ut- tered so decidedly her opinion on the subject : soften- ing her voice therefore as much as possible from the tone of asperity it had assumed, she exclaimed — '' Dear Wolf, how deeply I regret that you compel me to adopt a style so foreign to my heart, as that of severity towards you, but indeed, indeed, 1 must not suffer you to cherish in your breast a passion that will destroy its repose. Hopeless, utterly hopeless — crimi- nal too 5 yes Woif, it is criminal now for you to pro- fess an attachment for the Lady Agatha more than gratitude or friendship warrants; she is now a wife. Wolf, and will shortly be a mother; her husband, Lord Montague Montault, has an infirmity of disposition, the most unhappy for himself, and most unfortunate for his lovely wife. Vou are no stranger to that infir- mity, for I have told you of it; it is jealousy, that hated, that dreaded, that implacable and relentless enemy to all domestic joys, and the very grave, it may be term- ed, as surely as it is the end of all connubial peace and happiness.'' " Jealousy, where no cause can be assigned for its impression, is madness, infatuation, and folly's ex- tremest point," uttered Wolf; '•' or rather the scorpion of the mind, whose venomous sting having once been instilled into it, poisons it for ever." " It is too fatal and incontestible a truth," answered Jessy, " for the happiness of my poor Agatha; but let J20 THE fisher's daughter. us now drop the subject, and you endeavour to think no more of it, and to remember Lady Agatha only in the character of the wife of Lord Montague Montault, not as the reputed daughter of Captain Singleton/' Wolf sighed deeply, and pressing the hand of Jessy, promised that he would fulfil her request, although he acknowledged that the task would be attended with immeasurable difficulty. ''Then there is a greater triumph in overcoming it," cried Jessy ; " but hush, here comes my father and Dr. Lessington towards us ; my husband too, and Al- fred following. I sent him with a summons to bring them all to tea, which is now ready in the blue par- lour." And immediately the fisher came within hail of Jessy, as he termed it, he vociferated — " Come Jess, give us some catlap/ (this was the ele- gant term which Peter always applied to the tea table,) " and let me be jogging home with the boys, before I get a little top heavy, for you must know that I want to. argufy the topic with them a bit about my going to- morrow morning to the Castle to speak to the Duke, as he is so kind as to say he'll do something for the lads, to set them a going in the world. I shan't say nothing more about my lady, though, shiver my top- sails, it will be a hard matter to make me forget her turning up her ladyship's nose at my Jessy: but we must forgive old grievances." " And bury animosities father," observed Jessy, with her usual sweetness. *^ I could forgive my enemies, liad their actions been ever so unkind ; and surely we THE FISHER S DAUGHTER. 121 would not shew less lenity towards those we call our friends. And so the Dake is really interested for Al- fred and Wolf? How I rejoice to hear it!" " And how somebody else will rejoice to hear it, though it may not be quite so satisfactory to the feel- ings of the rest of the noble family," cried Sam Rus- sel, winking very significantly to his father-in-law, who immediately joined him in a hearty laugh, which the fisher, whether it was seasonable or not season- able, always indulged himself with whenever occasion called it forth ; at the same time, (and having now seated himself without further ceremony next to Jessy at the tea-table in the blue room, to which they had all adjourned,) exclaiming in his usual high key — " Yes, my lady won't turn up her nose for nothing now, will she Sam ? Shiver my topsails, what will my lady say when she sees Alfred in a parson's gown, and Wolf with a red coat on his back." '^ I don't know what my lady will say," cried Dr. Lessington, " but I know that I shall say, God bless the Duke, with every vein in my heart ; nor have I the smallest doubt, but that one day he will be the leading star of the boy's fortunes." And so it proved — the doctor had predicted rightly : for the ensuing morning the fisher at an early hour went mounted on his fa- vourite Rosinante to the Castle of Montault, where, sending in his name, he was very quickly ushered into the presence of his Grace the Duke of Braganza, who had given previous instructions to his attendants to admit Mr. Blust the very instant that he should an- nounce his name , and so he was, when a conversation immediately commenced, somewhat rather awkwardly a 6 Q 122 THE fisher's daughter. on the part of Peter, respecting the establishment of his adopted sons. " I have interest both for the army and the church, Mr. Blust/* uttered the Duke, '^ and will use my en- deavours to forward it as soon as possible in favour of your two adopted sons, whom I must confer with pri- vately if you please. Have you brought them with you?" To which Peter replied, after being seated, and tak- ing a glass of wine at the pressing invitation of his Grace, though he would much sooner have preferred l)randy— "No, my Lord, I did not choose to take that liberty. I brought them no farther than the brow of the hill, where I left them at the sign of the Trumpeter, in the care of one Shelty Macawenson, who has kept that sign for these ten years, seeing that he had the good fortune to marry the landlord's daughter who kept the house before him ; but the old boy popt off the hooks, and Shelty popt into his place, because he happened to please the fancy of Miss Dolly Macshiners, who was a bit of an old maid, and had lost her market when Shelty married ; but shiver my topsails if I think she was any maid at all. No matter, it was not for Shelty to slight a good offer ; so he bundled into matrimony before one could say Jack Robinson, and has kept the sign of the Trumpeter ever since : and there's where I left the lads, till I made bold to come and speak to your honor, by your honor's commands to one Dr. Lessington, a worthy man, your honor, as ever broke the bread of life. He has had many bright shiners of me, and I never grudged to pay the- doctor his bills. THK fisher's daughter. 123 because I know that he did not want to fleece me ; so says I, Doctor, if ever you want a guinea, don't be ashamed of asking Peter Blust to lend you one; and I never say that to any man your honor, that I don't think has principle and honesty enough to return again whenever he has an opportunity/' ^' And there I applaud your discrimination," uttered the Duke, highly delighted with the unsophisticated manner of Peter, " A man is a fool to render assist- ance to the unworthy and the profligate, who only laugh at him for his credulity, and he loses hTs money in the bargain : but come, Mr. Blust, let us to the bu^ siness which brought you here. The elder of the youths whom you have adopted appears to be pos- sessed of requisites well suited to the profession he has made choice of; a bold, enterprising, and intrepid spirit, with courage to defend his rights, and those also of his sovereign and his country, with modesty to con- ceal his qualifications, which do but the more conspi- cuously make them shine forth, and with redoubled lustre, well suited to the soldier of war and fortune ; and such I am of opinion your young Wolf appears to be to all intents and purposes. He will never be one of your feather-bed soldiers, and therefore I promise in a very short time to give him the appointment of a cadet in the East India service, without the least trouble or in- convenience to you Mr. Blust, since on that occasion I will furnish the young adventurer with all that may be necessary for his expedition, and give him necessary instructions besides, that when he is promoted, which is not unlikely to be the case, he may know how to conduct himself with propriety, which should always distinguish 124 the manners of a British officer, a brave soldier, an honourable man, and a humane Christian. Now as to the younger youth, whose name I think is Alfred ?" " Yes, your Grace,*' answered Peter, " a comely lad, and as quiet as a church mouse; and that mayhap may be one reason why he do like to become one of the fraternity." The Duke smiled, but made no comment on Peter's broad, and by no means very delicate, observation ; at length, after a pause, his Grace exclaimed — ** Well, if his disposition and his habits are so retir- ed and so peaceable, I do not see that he can make choice of a profession so likely to conduce to his hap- piness and his comforts, for the church affords many that all men do not enjoy in the busier scenes of life. It is, however, one that if not supported with dignity, had better not be supported at all; for the slightest deviation of propriety in its holy calling, will be re- membered with severity, pointed at WMth the finger of scorn, and marked with the most indelible disgrace and infamy. It is a bright station, but the least cloud passing over it will dim its lustre and sully its purity. It is not confident abilities, or a brillancy of genius that will support it, without the aid of other requisites to establish its order amongst men. Genius that would help the poet, the artist, or the musician, would here be of small nvail, were not the moral virtues of the charac- ter strictly maintained, and its rectitude faithfully pre- served. A preacher of the holy gospel must have no adventitious aid to set him off, he must shine from his own light, and must not attempt to borrow it from others. Precept will not alone do in the pulpit, there THB fisher's daughtbr. 125 roust be example as well, or the sacred calling of the preacher will be little attended to, much less will he be respected by his parishioners; when once he has failed in his own duties, he must not attempt to teach them to others." ** No, certainly not, your honor," vociferated Peter, to whom the former part of his Grace's speech was the same as if he had been talking Algebra to him ; '* its of no use whatever for a parson to put on a black gown and a thingumbob under his chin, when he's only a wolf in a sheep's clothing, and telling us that we shall all go to the devil, if we don't mind what he says to us, when he is shewing us the way to the black looking gentleman himself all the while." ** Your remark is just," answered the Duke, " but we will suppose that of this description of admonishers the proportion is very small, and that young Alfred will never add to the number. He is apparently a young mani of mild and gentle temperature of disposi- tion, with a pleasing deportment ; he is therefore very properly suited for the situation, which it is possible that he may one day eminently adorn, and which does not require that spirit of hardihood that Wolf so forci- bly displays, and so strikingly exhibits in all his ac- tions. It will be necessary however for Alfred to go to a college, preparatory to the study of professional duties. I will undertake to place him in one of emi- nence, without your incurring any additional expense, and thus pave the way to future fortune and to future hme. Send for the youths, and I will have some con- versation with them on the subject of the differem 126 THB FISHBR^S DAUGHTBR. professions they have made choice of j in the mean time Mr. Blust, I beg you will take more substantial refreshment than merely a glass of wine and a biscuit. I breakfast late— you dine early — custom and habit is second nature. Suppose then Mr. Blust you step into the adjoining apartment, and some of our good folks will spread before you some refreshment of which yor; would choose to partake before you go to the said Trumpeter for your adopted sons?" This proposal was accepted with great satisfaction on the part of Peter, who having arisen at an unusually early hour that morning in order to be in time for his Grace, began to feel the cravings of an appetite which had never been satiated with luxurious meals, and there- fore he was always ready to enjoy them ; and though he might have gone to dine at Shelty's with no coarse or ordinary fare placed before him, yet somehow or other he preferred accepting of the Duke's cordial in- vitation at the Castle, convinced that on this occasion he would be treated with every mark of respect and civility by those very domestics who had before treated him so contemptuously. But they dared not now act contrary to the commands of their illustrious lord ; and Peter, who longed to be revenged of their former rude- ness towards him, accepted of his Grace's invitation, not more out of triumph, than the hope of being able to retaliate, by shewing them of how much consequence he was now considered in the estimation of their loid, and he exclaimed — " Why, T thank your honor, I believe I could take a morsel of something if it was just ready 5 for being THE fisher's daughter. 12^ up at sun-rise, together with the good smartish ride the boys and 1 have had over the cliffs, I can't say but I find myself a little peckish." The bell was immediately rung by his Grace, who in an authoritative tone of voice when the domestic ap- peared, desired " that Mr. Blust might instantly be con- ducted into the banquet room and provided with re- freshments; and inform the Marquis my brother that 1 wish to speak with him in the library whenever he has leisure to attend me there," added his Grace, on which the attendant bowed, and opening the door of a splendid and spacious saloon in which the family usu- ally dined, conducted Mr. Ulust to a smaller, but not less splendid one adjoining it, where there was a table and cloth spread, with four covers and napkins, for the reception apparently of four persons ; and Peter hav- ing taken a chair, began veiy coolly to fan his face with ]iis imm.ense large old-fashioned hat, during the time Ihat the attendant was busying himself in arranging tlie glasses, &c. on the side- board, where there was a sumptuous display of plate, both in gold and silver, rvith the ducal coronet and the arms of the Braganza family engraved on it. The very look of Peter, without the fanning of his face with his hat, would have been sufficient to have excited the risibility of the attendant, had he dared to have indulged it at the expense of the fisher, whom he had seen once before at the Castle, on the night that the Marchioness had given so cool a reception to Jessy ; and the tremendous passion that Peter exhibited in ronsequence of it, was a memorandum he had left be- nind him, not easily to be effaced from their recollec- 128 THE fisher's daughter tion ; ^nd on Peter's complaining of the excessive sul- triness of the weather, the attendant very courteously replied — *^ Vastly warm indeed Mr. Blust, quite a Bengal day in England, but there's plenty of ways to keep one's self cool ; for instance, there's cool air in the veranda, where there's nothing but flowers of the most charm- ing fragrance, and trees imported from all parts of the world to sit under; then, Mr. Blust, there is another convenience in this splendid mansion, plenty of cool water, which, after dinner, we find very refreshing ; a luxury, I assure you Mr, Blust, to us gentlemen ser- vants who drink wine till we loath the very sight of it; cool water is then, you know Mr. Blust, a very de- sirable commodity." Peter who had listened in the most profound asto- nishment at the loquacity of the supercilious and cOx- comlcal fellow, and who probably had heard nothing, but that he drank wine until he loathed it ; and not having once removed his eyes from the broad stare with which he surveyed him, now vociferated, with very little regard to the fine feelings of his compa- nion— " Cool water! shiver my topsails, if you was a ser- vant of mine, gentleman or no gentleman, I'd let you see whether you should take the liberty of drinking my wine till you could not bear the sight of it, and then want water to give you a cooling. I'd cool you with a vengeance if I had you at Herring Dale ; by gobes you would not want cooling for a month to come after I had once given you a good ducking head and ears in my herring poiid. Drink your master's wine till you THE fisher's daughter. 129 are sick of it ! why, confound your impudence, I say, there's many a man that toils day and night for a mor- sel of bread, and who labours by the sweat of his brow, that is thankful if he can smoke his pipe over a glass of small beer, while such fellows as you are loll- j ing asleep in arm chairs, and getting drunk at the ex- pense of your master's cellar, and making free with hit wine, to entertain your acquaintances with ; but I sup- pose it be the fashion to serve fine folks in this roguish way, but if it be, more shame for them that do give it encouragement, that be all.'' At this precise moment the personages who were to dine in this room, and at this table, made their appear- ance, and which consisted of three, Peter with the housekeeper making the fifth ; and who, being ap- prised of his having been ordered some refreshments by commands of his Grace the Duke of Braganza, very pertinaceously, as the dinner was brought in, invited him to take a seat at the table, her companions being merely the gentleman of the Marquis of Montault, and the young lady, notwithstanding the costliness and ele- gance of her attire, was only the waiting gentlewoman of Lady Lavinia, The second gentleman who made one of this dinner party was grey headed, and sat at the head of the table, as seeming to have a higher autho- rity than the rest; and his manners were certainly much in his favour, for he seemed to know his capa- city as well as his distance, even before such a man as Peter Blust, who had penetration and sagacity enough to discover that it would not do for servants, howevei exalted or principal they may be in their department or respective capacities, to assume the consequence h6 R 130 THE fisher's daughter. and the authority of their masters, who if they are really men of rank, education, and feeling, will always betray the most distinguishing and indisputable mark of it, that of never permitting their domestics to insult their inferiors, or treat with contempt the feelings of the unfortunate. No man will suffer this who is a gentleman of exalted rank, refined education, or urbanity of disposition.; if he does, he is unworthy of being styled such, and twenty times more unworthy of the good gifts which fortune has bestowed, for it is then evidently clear that he does not know how to make a proper use of them. But to return to the dinner party : snug and com- fortable enough, if the smiles of good humour had been as excellently preserved as the luxury of appetite ftad been consulted on the occasion, for it certainly consisted of a rich and elegant repast of no less than two separate courses, and both wine and fruit crowned the order of the table ; and it would have been a query to know which had the best dinner this day at the Castle of Montault, — the Duke, or his gentleman 3 the Lady, or the lady's gentlewoman. At all events the dinner was excellent, and Peter having a most excel- lent appetite, sat down to enjoy it, the old man at the head of the table being particukrly courteous and civil towards him. Peter feasted sumptuously, although, eyed with no very pleasing aspect by Mrs. Tartlet the housekeeper, who was a prodigious favourite of the Marchioness, high too in her confidence, and therefore in impudence to all about her, that she either imagined had not the spirit to defend themselves, or wanted the power to exert it. The helpless, the friendless, or THE fisher's daughter. 131 those bound in the icy fetters of obligation, these were completely under the avaricious power of Mrs. Tartlet, as well as the lash of her censorious and ve- nomed tongue. She had also been in the good graces of the late Duchess of Braganza, whose diabolical pro- ceedings with her daught^er-in-law, and her subsequent treachery to entrap her grandchild with Paulo Michello, was also fully known to this most worthy and delecta- cle housekeeper, who received many a rich present for watching the quiet and peaceful inhabitants of Herring Dale, when the beauteous daughter and heiress of Bra- ganza slept beneath its roof; and also the actions of her young master, Lord Montague, when he had fallen so desperately in love with the charms of his lovely cousin, though he did not know her then in any other character than as the orphan daughter of the supposed deceased Captain Singleton. And though at the death of the Duchess all was disclosed, and the lovely Agatha re- stored to all her natural, and so long usurped paternal rights, yet Mrs. Tartlet could never bear the sight of the lovely bride of the young lord ; and while her su- perior beauty and her superior virtue awed, she, like the serpent of old, viewed the beauteous pair in their garden of connubial bliss with an envious and mali- cious eye, and any little tale she could carry to her mistress after Agatha had become the wife of her son, Mrs. Tartlet was not slow to convey to the prejudice or the disadvantage of Lady Agatha Montague Mon- taultj while to the lovely object of her envy she ever assumed an air of the most cringing and fawning hypocrisy; so that the unconscious Agatha always received her with the most cordial smiles of condes- 132 THE i'isher's daughter. ceiision and affability, protesting to her lord, that she thought Mrs. Tartlet a very good sort of a woman, to which his lordship, half jest and half earnest, would reply— " I don't know much of her; she has been in iny mother's service many years, even before my sister Lavinia was born, and is, I believe, no greater favourite with the Marchioness than my sister ; but of a truth I do not like the woman, and I cannot tell the reason uiiy ; but when I see her, she always reminds me of the sJvetch of private life from the pen of the late lamented Lord Byron ; heaven grant that at no future period I may find her answering this description !" Lord and Lady Montague vvere in the library when this conversa- tion passed between them on the subject of the house- keeper, and taking down a volume of this inspired and elegant poet's works from one of the shelves, he read aloud the following lines, to which his beauteous bride listened w^th the most curious and profound attention. THE fisher's daughter, 133 CHAPTER VI. ** For ueither man nor angels can discern H^'pocrisy, the only evil that walks Invisible, except to God alone. By his permissive will, through heaven and earth i And oft, though wisdom wake, suspicion sleeps At wisdom's gate, and to simplicity Resigns her charge, while goodness thinks no ill Where no ill seems." MiLTON, ** Born in the garret, in the kitchen bred. Promoted thence to deck her mistress' head ; Next — for some gracious service unexpress'd. And from its wages only to be guess'd — Raised from the toilet to the table, — where Her wondering betters wait behind her chair. With eye unmoved, and forehead unabash'd She dines from oflF the plate she lately wash'd. Quick with the tale, and ready with the lie — The genial confidante, and general spy — Who could, ye gods I her next employment guess— An only infant's earliest governess ! She taught the child to read, and taught so well, That she herself, by teaching, learn'd to spell. An adept next in penmanship she grows. As many a nameless slander deftly shows. Skill'd b,y a touch to deepen scandal's tints. With aU the kind mendacity of hints. While mingling truth with falsehood — sneers with smuc A thread of candour with a web of wiles j 134 A plain blunt show of briefly spoken seeming To hide her bloodless heart's soul-harden'd scheming j A lip of lies, a face form'd to conceal ; And, without feeling, mock at all who feel : With a vile mask, the Gorgon would disown ; A cheek of parchment — and an eye of stone. The female dog-star of her little sky, Where all beneath her influence droop or die. Oh ! wretch without a tear — without a thought. Save joy above the ruin thou hast wrought — The lime shall come, nor long remote, when thou Shalt feel far more than thou inflictest now ; Feel for thy vile self- loving self in vain, And turn thee howling in unpitied pain. May the strong curse of crush'd affections light Back on thy bosom with reflected blight! And make thee in thy leprosy of mind As loathsome to thyself as to mankind ! Till all thy self-thoughts curdle into hate, Black — aa thy will for others would create : Till thy hard heart be calcined into dust, And thy soul welter in its hideous crust. Oh, may thy grave be sleepless as the bed,*— The widow'd couch of fire, that thou hast spread ! Then, when thou fain would'st weary heaven with prayei. Look on thine earthly victim — and despair I" " There, my love," exclaimed Lord Montague, look- ing with intent and earnest gaze on the surprized and almost horror struck countenance of his beauteous wife, who had listened with amazement to this very flattering and warm euloginm pronounced on the me- rits of Mrs. Tartlet ; " what think you of this portrait for the confidential housekeeper of my mother, hei favourite cabinet counsellor, Mrs. Deborah Tartlet? Lord Byron knew well how to estimate their value; would that the Marchioness knew as well how to draw inferences from the same poisonous contagion that her Abigail is now infusing in the bosom of Lady Lavinia, THE fisher's daughter. 135 my young sister, over whose mind this sybil has such unbounded sway ! but she cannot see it ; no, no, my Agatha, ray mother is actually so blinded by her par- tiality for the watchful Argus in her family, that I be- lieve were attesting angels called from heaven to prove her apostate faith towards her, she would be slow in giving credit to their assertion." Lady Montault expressed her utmost astonishment, and upon this strong testimony of her husband of the merits and qualifications of the sagacious housekeeper, was ever after very cautious how^ she advanced on any further intimacy with, or encouraged the visits of Mrs. Tartlet, which had been very frequently made after the death of Captain Singleton, under the semblance of consolatory friendship, and the most humiliating marks of respect, which Agatha could not then deem to be a species of the blackest hypocrisy and the grossest de- ception towards her. Her health and spirits being, at the irreparable loss she had sustained in her early friend and protector, so extremely languid and delicate, that, added to her also critical situation, made it impossible to conceive that any mortal breathing under heaven's canopy could own so much depravity, as to visit her abode, like the good Samaritan, to pour oil upon her wounds, only to pierce her more deeply to the heart ; in short, Agatha received the visits of her mother-in- law's housekeeper, during the confinement of her in- disposition, with that open ingenuousness of character, and noble generosity of disposition, which so particu- larly distinguished her deportment, and so invariably guided the impulse of all her actions. And Mrs. Tartlet was very frequently at the residence of Lady Montague, 136 1HE FISHERS DAUGHTER. without the knowledge of her lord, on whose elegant establishment, and splendid acquisition of fortune, with all the glittering prospects that awaited it, she gazed and sickened with envy, and like an ill weed that grows beside a beauteous rose, she spread her leaves as far as she could extend, in hopes to blight and crush the blooming flower in all its lovely sweetness. Nor was the prospect of the Lady Agatha giving birth to a son and heir in the Braganza family likely to evaporate the spleen that overflowed on the gall of this foul, envious, and malignant sybil ; and she beheld the preparations that were making for the approaching birth of the little stranger, (whether male or female,) with a sentiment which might have reposed in the bosom of a fiend, not in that of any who bare the semblance of woman. She never had liked Lord Montague, even when he was a boy, for the best of all possible reasons, that he had ever disliked her, because she had occasionally been the cause of dissension with him and his mother ; she now most treacherously cherished the deadliest hatred towards him, and heartily wished and prayed, that in his expectations of a forthcoming heir, he might be defeated, and that the infant of Agatha might perish in an untimely birth, and never be destined to behold the light. Of these pious charitable wishes, however, most unhappily for the beauteous bride of Montault, she was profoundly ignorant, aud consequently admit- ted her visits, as being those of friendship and con- dolence, and vt^ith the sanction of her family ; but after the foregoing conversation had taken place with her lord and her, Agatha, from the most prudential motives that were possible, began to evince a more THE fisher's daughter. 137 difitant reserve towards Mrs. Tartlet than formerly, which was soon perceived by the Argus eye of the artful housekeeper, and of course not only communi- cated to, but commented on by the Marchioness and Lady Lavinia, and greatly excited the indignation of both ladies, at any apparent slight or offence offered to their favourite Abigail. " Oh ! my brother perfectly makes an idiot of his pretty little wife,'* uttered Lady Lavinia, with an en- vious turn of her under lip, which is no advantage to female beauty, even if she could boast of the charms of a Medician Venus, " by telling every body that she is a paragon of perfection." " Which they must have extreme penetration to dis- cover,'* cried the Marchioness, with no less an envious sneer than her accomplished daughter. ^^ She is nei- ther too wise nor too pretty, for all the fuss that Mon- tague makes about her ; in short, but for the name, she has nothing of the Braganza family in her compo- feition." ** Except the having of a little of the Braganza blood in her veins," observed Mrs. Tartlet, and smiled con- temptuously, in imitation of her august lady; " but Lord bless me, she has no more of the air of a lady of high birth or fashion, no more the look of your ladyship, or my Lady Lavinia, than a sow's ear to a silken purse, but that you know my lady is all owing to her bringing up. What a bringing up she has had, mercy on me, for the daughter of a Duke I" " 'Tis most delectable. You are prodigiously right there, Tartlet," uttered the Marchioness in proud dis- dain. " First, among a set of fat ghostly friars, and .'6 s 138 T»E FfSHER's DAUGHTER. a parcel of old stiff formal nuns, who have taught her to be as stiff and as formal as themselves. Next she was transplanted to the care of Captain Singleton, the most strange and amphibious animal in existence, who taught the girl to be as strange and as eccentric a being as himself, living on the top of that frightful odious cliff, the very look of which is enough to give one a fit of the vapours and the blue devils. Thirdly, when this said Captain thought proper to disappear, for reasons best known to himself, and left Miss Agatha, whom he had made as romantic and as sentimental as a pupil of a convent well could be, in the character of his or- phan daughter, she was obliged to take her next quar- ters beneath the roof of that sea monster Peter Blust, and there her education was completed. Then she was shipped over to the — '* Here her ladyship was seized with a violent fit of coughing, whether by design or accident we cannot tell. There was something however in the last place of destination appointed for Agatha that stuck in her ladyship's delicate throat, and she could not get it out for the life of her, till Lady Lavinia helped her out, and pronounced"— '^ Shipped her over to the ruins of the old abbey you mean mamma, but that you know was the fault of grandmamma, so we must say nothing about that, only that its a great pity, though Agatha is really found out to be a relation of ours, that my brother did not hap- pen to take a fancy to one more becoming his high birth and station ; for do you know that Agatha has been living with such a set of barbarians, sea por- poises, and wood demons, that positivoiy she is a very THE fisher's 0AUGHTBR. 139 unfifc 8ort of a personage to move in the first style of rank and fashion, for she has positively no more pride than a dairy maid or a fisherman's daughter." " True, ray love, and will never look like any thing better when my Lavinia is by her side, although she is the Duke's daughter," answered the Marchioness, with increased irony ; but more is the misfortune that the son of the Duchess of Braganza should have contami- nated himself with so low a connection, as the mother of Agatha, who was nothing better than a beggar supported by her country; and yet it was so to happen that my silly boy was to be caught in the same snare, and marry the daughter of this very same low bred crea- ture, this Agatha Delcrusa." " But I have heard my grandmother say that she was excessively beautiful," resumed Lady Lavinia. " Yes, probably there was something in that," re- torted the Marchioness, *' and that was the only excuse that Orlando had to make to his mother for the rash and imprudent steps he had taken, in bringing this creature into the family, and making her a Duchess, who was better far to be his laundiy maid; and cer- tainly I do not w\>nder that her Grace was so deeply mortified when she heard of the degrading connection, and the clandestine marriage that her only son (at that |)eriod) had made with the low bred Florentine ; and that to prevent further disgrace on the ancient and il- lustrious house of Braganza, she should have been provoked to take measures that — that — that" — Another fit of coughitjg seized the Marchioness in the very middle of her speech, and the obliging Mrs. 140 THE fisher's daughter. Tartlet, the accommodating housekeeper, took her ladyship up with the short sentence of — " That could not l>e accommodated to her Grace'* satisfaction/' uttered she, with the most unblushing look and air of affrontery, well knowing that the mur- der of the infant granddaughter of the Duchess of Bra- ganza was the circumstance which the Marchioness here alluded to ; and by no means either shocked or dismayed by the recollection of so horrible a transaction, she boldly went on in making observations on that dis- gusting personage, (who had descended to the grave "with infamy and disgrace for ever entailed on her an- cestors, by her brutal and unnatural conduct towards the lovely and unfortunate Delcrusa,) in the presence of the young Lady Lavinia, without once receiving the slightest censure or reproach from her lady, as a check to her licentious tongue; but who, on the contrary, suffered her to proceed in ridiculing the conduct of the wife of her lord, the Lady Montague Montault; and burst into a most violent fit of laughter, when she ex- claimed — *' Well, I protest that Montague is prodigiously ab- surd to indulge his pretty moppet in all her childish and ridiculous follies, as if he had not made himself ridicu- lous enough before he married her ; and so he is really going to put his whole establishment into deep mourn ing for the death of Captain Singleton." '' No, you don't say so, Tartlet, do you ?" cried Lady Lavinia, echoing the loud unfeeling laugh of the Marchioness, while Mrs. Tartlet replied to her interro- gatory in the following manner :— THE fisher's daughter. 141 " But I do say so your ladyship, and they are now all in deep mourning at this present moment, coachman, footman, butler, groom, Lady Agatha's woman, house- keeper, laundry maid, aye down to the very scullion — all have got a bit of black on.'* " And I suppose we shall have the little one, when it comes, arrayed in a suit of sable," uttered the Mar- chioness, " in compliment to Captain Singleton. Poor Montague, what a dotard thou art made of for this silly whining romantic girl; I wonder she don't per- suade him to put the Cottage on the Cliflf in mourning to commemorate the memory of her dear papa Sin- gleton." " And the cat and the kittens," echoed Mrs. Tartlet, and another loud laugh proclaimed the triumph of the pleasantry and wit of the accommodating housekeeper, in which the Marchioness and Lady Lavinia most in- decorously joined ; and from that moment, the lovely, unconscious, and assuredly most unoffending object of their ungenerous and unmerited sarcasm, became also the object of their jealousy, envy, and suspicion. Every action was closely watched ; every word, every look misrepresented ; every transaction, the most trivial, con- veyed to Montault Castle by this lynx-eyed grimalkin. - It was precisely at the very period that the Duke became interested in the fortunes and fate of the youths Alfred and Wolf, that Mrs. Tartlet had began her operations to undermine the happiness, and de- stroy the repose of one of the most blest and happiest of married pairs ; for no sooner did the Lady Montague Montault leara from the lips of her father of the destination of Peter Blust's adopted sons, that 142 THE FISHJER's daughter. Alfred was to be bred for the church, and her favourite Wolf for the army, (whom she had not once seen since she had quitted the old abbey,) than she expressed the most rapturous sentiments of unaffected joy, Lord Montague then being present, when clasping her Jovely hands over her snowy breast, and with a look of the most energetic and eloquent sweetness, she ex- claimed— «* Oh, my dearest father I how happy you have made your Agatha by this most pleasing intelligence, I have often in secret ruminated on the fate of these beloved youths, and wished that they could i)e placed in situa- tions that would never degrade their rising talent ; dear Wolf will now obtain the wish of his heart. Poor fellow ! how often have 1 heard him declare how ardently he longed to embrace a military profession ; and as 1 gazed on the fine intrepid countenance of this noble boy, when I have marked the expression of his brilliant dark beaming eye, his fine arch brow, his high forehead, and his athletic well proportioned limbs, I have heaved a sigh of regret, that I had no influence in promoting the interest of this boy, and that his fine intrepid spirit should be doomed to a life of obscurity for the want of some kindly hand to bring that promise forth. My prayer is heard for the poor friendless boy^ it has as- cended to heaven, and my father, ray dear father, is permitted to be the guardian spirit who will watch over the wanderings of poor Wolf." *' And aid the fortunes of Alfred. I will also do that,*' uttered bis Grace, *' though I will own that your young favourite evinces a superior display of ta- lent to his foster brother; in short, I think Wolf THE FISHER S DAUGHTER. 143 one of the finest youths I ever remember to have seen, either in this country or any other. What say you, Montague? did you ever see such fine proportioned limbs as the fellow has got ? He is a giant, and yet so admirably formed, that there is more of elegance than grossness in his figure." " He has an eye like an eagle too, has not he fa- ther ?** utterred her ladyship; " so piercing, and yet so full of sensibility.'* His Grace saw no reason why he should dissent from the opinion of his lovely daughter ; and on Lord Mon- tague coldly observing that he could see nothing re- markable in Lady Montague's Danish prodigy, his Grace expressed son>e surprise, and more warmly than ever expatiated on the perfections he had disco- vered in him ; adding with a sort of waggery in his manner of addressing his half offended, but more truly his half jealous son-in-law — 'Mf you cannot see that the boy is what I have de- scribed, by Jove nephew you must perforce be blind or insensible to merit altogether, which I never discovered in you before; however, I will not argue the point with you now, but let the boys alone, till some revolving years have passed over their heads ; perhaps Alfred may be a bishop, and Wolf may be a general, but, hark ye nephew, 1 would forfeit my diadem were 1 an emperor, that Wolf would arrive to his exaltation first. 1 shall say no more, time will unfold." The entrance of company to the apartment prevent- ed tlhe reply of Lord Montague Montault, and which, though it would not have been in the shape of a flat contradiction to his father-in-law, would have been 144 THE fisher's daughter. such, as totally to disavow that he at all coincided in his Grace's opinion on the merits of young Wolf; and strange to say, that the tenor of this morning's conver- sation for ever rooted a most unnatural, and certainly a most unmanly prejudice in the mind of Lord Monta- gue against the favourite, now both of his uncle and his lovely wife; and as from trifles, as light as the very air that fans the summer rose, arise causes most se- rious, and big vrith impending fate, so this trifling con- versation for ever coloured the fate of poor Wolf, and made him an object of dislike, nay even of aversion, as he was often the object of envy, to Lord Montague, Montault. But from himself, if possible, Lord Monta-; gue wished to conceal from whence had arisen so un- generous a prejudice against an innocent and unoffend- ing youth, for of no atom of offence had Wolf been guilty towards him, except that of being a favourite with his lovely wife, and that he was avowedly also a favourite with his father-in-law the Duke, who, no friend to prejudice himself, would not encourage it in another ; and far less in him whose liberal education and exalted rank ought to set an example to the weak minded, rather than promote propensities every way so injurious to the love and charity of his fellow crea- tures. Was then jealousy the cause of his dislike to Wolf? a kindling blush mounted to the cheek of Lord Mon- tague at the bare suggestion of so unmanly a thought; jealous of a poor friendless boy, merely because con- necting circumstances had rendered him an object of compassion to his amiable wife, who on the night of the tempest was equally the object of compassion to THE fisher's daughter. l45 the fisher Bliist, when in the solitary Cottage on the Cliff .she had been left in the supposed eharacter of an orphan, wholly destitute of friends and ])rotection. Was it not natural fr»r Agatha to sympathize with her fellow sufferers in the same hour of misfortune and calamity — two shipwrecked youths who shared the same protector, and were sheltered beneath the same roof with her ? Could purity itself assign any impro- priety on her part, in the anx^Jus solicitude she had expressed for the welfare of these two youths ? And what had she uttered to her father of Wolf, that angels might not have heard and approved ? Was it the beautiful energy of her manner, or the lovely expression of her soul-speaking eloquent coun- tenance, which gave her the look of a celestial saint, that could give rise to that foul demon of jea- lousy in a husband's breast — he to whom she had given her virgin hand and her virgin heart with her own free will and voluntaiy consent? Long before she could call that passion by its name had she loved Lord Montague. When under the humble roof of the honest fisherman, Lord Montague had assailed her in several shapes, to inform her of the ardent passion with which she had inspired him, she had by every means in her power endeavoured to suppress that pas- sion and avoid his pursuit. Yet when after a conti- nued series of persecution and cruelty, even from her own relations, she had been treacherously betrayed, and at last, by miraculous providence, had been pre- served from sharing the fate of her unfortunate mother; and when fully restored to her natural rights, as the daughter and acknowledged heiress of the illustrious fl 7 T 146 THE fisher's daughter. house of Braganza, the maiden modesty which so pe- culiarly distinguished her, forbade her to declare her attachment to heij: then unknown cousin, till in the person of Lord Montague Montault he solicited the hand of the daughter of the Duke of Braganza, whom before he so ardently loved as the daughter of Captain Singleton, and she accepted him. The hand, and the heart, and the beautiful person, for which monarchs would have sighed, she bestowed, with her own free will, on her cousin, Lord Montague Montault, because she felt well convinced that he had been in the posses- sion of her affections long before she even dared to acknowledge that passion to herself. And was the firm affection of such a woman to be doubted ? Could a thought be even suspected of her chaste and honourable love towards him, even while she yet bore in her bosom the then unborn fruits of their marriage and their love? Oh woman! if indeed thy name be frail^ how much more frail are the beings, who endeavour by every art, by every cruelty in their power to make us so ? Answer us that, ye sage phi- losophers, and ye rigid moralists ! Resolve the question if you can, why such a pure spotless being as the lovely heroine of these pages should, even while in the arms of her husband, and that husband her heart's first elected^ while in that lovely bosom she bore the most ample testimony of her love towards him, she could be suspected of breathing a thought unworthy of a wife or a mother ? Surely the demon of jealousy has power to undermine the happiness of its victim, if that vie • tim is not in itself frail. Angels were not purer, love- lier, holier^ than the wife of Lord Montague Montault ; THB FISHEB's daughter. 147 \et for her compassion for a poor friendless boy, that virtue was to be suspected, and by that husband whom she adored, ere yet she had given to bis arms the first pledge of mutual love, and chaste honourable affection. Lord Montague was jealous of his wife, and though he dared not openly confess so dishonourable and degrad- ing a thought, yet the object of this jealousy was the innocent and unoffending youth Wolf, nameless in all besides. But this passion was cherished only in secret by Lord Montague; and so far was Lady Agatha from guessing at the real cause of her lord's sudden fits of abstraction and melancholy in which he now frequently habituated himself, that she often sent Wolf, who was now, as also Alfred, on an intimate footing with her father's family, and thereby had free intercourse with her, to console him, often taking long walks with Wolf and Alfred herself, and thus innocently renewing the days she had passed with them under the roof of the fibber Blust, without one unchaste thought in her love-ly bosom, one wish impure to injure the affections of her dear lord. But not so blind or inexcusable was his Grace the Duke of Braganza; he very soon discovered that Wolf, the favourite of his lovely daughter, was by no means that of his nephew, who although he greatly surpassed Alfred in the progress of his studies, never received, on the slightest occasion, the approbation of Lord Montague. In the mean while the enraptured youth, daily and hourly in the presence of the object he secretly adored, drank in this growing and fatal pas* sion, intoxicating and deep draughts of love ; if he saw her but one fleeting moment in the day, he was satis- fied, but when by any chance he heard that the Lady 148 THB FKrtER's DAUGHTER. Agatha was indisposed^ he was wretched beyond de- scription, and often retired to his chamber, there in secret to pour out his heart's anguish, which though he concealed from all mortal eyes beside, he could not effectually hide from Alfred, who perceived this fatal attachment of his foster brother with the most poig- nant sensations of regret, and most impatiently longed for the period when his absence would become neces- sary, and he would be far removed from the presence of an object so fatally dangerous to his repose. For by the Duke's express desire, both Wolf and Alfred were taken under his immediate protection ; and ever since their course of studies had commenced for the distinct professions in which they were about to be engaged, they occupied apartments at the residence of Lord Montague Montault ; a request which, for divers rea- sons, his lordship could not possibly deny to his father- in-law, the Castle of Montault, at which his Grace had the most splendid apartments wholly appropriated to his use, being too public for the private tuition of the youths, for whom masters were engaged of every description ; and as the elegant mansion in which Lord Montague resided was presented to his lovely wife by her father on her marriage with his nephew. Lord Montague interfered as little as possible with what ar- rangements his lady chose to make in it. The noble display of magnificent gifts which the Duke had given to his adored child, were indeed wor- thy of the heiress of Braganza. The household furni- ture was splendid beyond description ; the plate, jew- els, and paintings, were magnificent: and although her son was in the entire possession of all this treasure. THE fisher's daughter. 149 the Marchioness could not divest herself of seme en- vious sensations, when she beheld the lovely Agatha at the head of so superb an establishment, and so princely a fortune. The poisonous weed rankled in her hearty and it would seem, by the jcllow hue which tinged her ladyship's complexion, that it had also mixed with the gall that filled every vein there. Nor was Lady Lavinia far short from experiencing similar sensations to those which alternately agitated the bosom of her haughty mo- ther; and each succeeding visit that she made to Violet V^ale, (which was the name given to this beautiful and romantic seat of Lord and Lady Montague Montault,) was accompanied with fresh sources of mortification, and a more fixed dislike to her lovely and accomplish- ed sister-in-law, Avhose various perfections, both of mind and person, were so transcendently above her." Vain were her efforts to imitate her, and ineffectual all her art to conceal her vexation, when the superb equi- page and magnificent «'ardrobe of the daughter of Bra- ganza met her eye. Though at her marriage with her brother, Agatha had displayed the most unexam- pled generosity towards the Marchioness and Lady La- vinia, by presenting them with the most sumptuous gifts, it was not sufficient to shield her against the ran- corous and malignant frowns of envy, in which the Marchioness encouraged her daughter to the extremest point; and there was not a day that some supposed defection was not discovered by this amiable pair, in their young and lovely relative, over which, however, the veil of hypocrisy was so completely and impervi- ously thrown, that it could not be discerned by the nicest eye of discrimination; on the contrary, the most 150 THE fisher's daughter. specious art and imposing flattery was called in to hide the real sentiment of the heart; and though not a ray of genial sunshine warmed its frozen current to friend- ship or to love for the beauteous daughter of Braganza, yet she thought it such, with that openness of can- dour, and lovely ingenuousness of disposition, which, from the earliest dawn of infancy, had always marked her character. It was the natural bias of her mind to be sincere, because she always thought others so, and with the most unsuspecting confidence, she received the visits of her mother and sister-in-law at her elegant and magnificent mansion, always shewing the Marchio- ness the most delicate and affectionate attentions, and paying her the compliment of consulting her taste and opinion on every occasion ; not that either the Mar- chioness or Latiy Lavinia Montault were congenial to the feelings of Agatha ; they were too fashionably bred, and their system of conduct very dissimilar to her own, as well as the style in which she had been edu- cated ; but these were observations that she never suf- fered to pass her lips, and were rather tolerated by Agatha than severely censured. The one was the mo- ther of her husband, the other his sister, and these ties were sacred. She adored her husband, and loving him, she endeavoured by every means in her power to please and gratify his relatives ; but the Marquis she really loved, for he seemed but a counterpart of her beloved Montague. He had all those points of charac- ter, and mild and generous propensities of disposition, that she so greatly admired in her husband ; besides, he was the very image of him in person, (saving the disparity of their age,) and that was another ostensible THE fisher's daughter. 151 reason why Agatha was so passionately fond of her father-in-law ; who also was as passionately fond of her, and frequently, in some little family jars, would hold up the daughter of Braganza as an example worthy of imitation, always repeating to Lady Lavinia, whenever her conduct was perverse and undutiful tou'ards him, the following expressions : — " Look at your cousin, the Lady Agatha Montault ; she is a treasure to her father, and a mine of wealth to her husband, and a blessing to all around her. Oh my Lavinia! why do you not study more minutely the character of your brother's lovely wife, and imitate the excellent example she sets before you ?"' To which, with a most contemptuous smile, and a sly insidious look at the Marchioness, who was seated at work when this conversation took place between the father and the daughter, Lavinia replied thus — " Lord, papa I me study the character of my bro- ther's wife ? Not I indeed, for she is not in my style." " She is not indeed," uttered the Marquis dryly. '* The resemblance between Lady Agatha and Lady Lavinia Montault, is certainly not at present of the most striking nature." ^^ Well, that's not strange papa," uttered the now mortified and indignant young lady, " for Agatha has black eyes, and mine are blue ones 5 besides, her com- plexion is so dark, and — " Lady Lavinia paused a little, puzzled somewhat to find a fault, where a face was so perfectly faultless as that of her beautiful cousin's; but the good natured 152 THE FISHER*S DAUGHTER. Marchioness very quickly assisted her, and scornfully exclaimed — " And yours is so transcendantly fair, my love ! Every one must see that who is not absolutely blind ^ but perhaps the Marquis chooses to veil his eyes to the beauties of his own daughter, that he may have more leisure to discover those uncommon perfections of the Lady Agatha Montault, whose character he is so de- sirous of your imitating ; but pray my love attend to your own, and never think of studying the airs and graces of one who has been studied by all the butcher's and baker's wives and daughters in the parish, when she appeared in the character of Miss Agatha Sin- gleton." Lady Larinia giggled at this uncommon witticism of her mother, but dared not laugh full in the face of her father ; she had recourse to a rose, therefore, which she pulled out of one of the vases, and placing it before her more roseate lips, she continued to indulge in her pro- pensity to laughter, till the Marquis, darting a reprov- ing glance at his lady, exclaimed — " And if your ladyship was to teach your daughter a little of the propriety of conduct of some of the butch- er's wives and daughters in this respectable parish, it would be doing her an essential service, for she would then know what the duty and the affection of a child is to her parents, of which it is my deep regret to say she is utterly ignorant." The exit of the Marquis immediately succeeded the close of his speech, and the ladies were left together, to make what comments they pleased on the unusual 153 severity which had marked its expression. Lady La- vinia no longer in a mood for laughter, was the first to break out with the following exclamation : — ** Lord, mamma, how insufferably rude and cross papa ia !" '* Yes, tolerably well for that,'' replied her ladyship ; ^* but it is always a case in point, when he has been paying a morning visit at Violet Vale, to see his pretty s!^^^my- /^//^/u//. THE FISHER*S DAUGHTER. 161 Florentine baby of a girl, Agatha Delcnisa, had cer- tainly all the fine contour of face and expression, that your grandmother, the Duchess, must have had in the flower of her beauty." " Lord, mamma, I protest that I could never see the slightest resemblance between them," cried Lady La- vinia, '' except when his Grace frowns so terribly, and puts himself into such tremendous passions, as he did with Carlo his black servant the other morning, for neglecting to carry a message to Violet Vale, to enquire after the health of his daughter. My gracious, how he did storm and rave at him, and how poor Carlo shook and trembled, as my uncle perfectly thundered out — • Neglect my daughter ! better you forget your duty to me, sir, than be unmindful of her who forms the dear- est part of my existence. My child, my Agatha I the heiress of the illustrious house of Braganza.' But his frown and grandmamma's frown were so different, mamma, that I could not see the slightest resemblance of the expression you speak of. No, indeed, it was more like my cousin Agatha's when she frowns, which is very seldom ; but when she does, she looks so like, his Grace — his fine dark piercing eyes, and the very turn of his sarcastic and scornful lip; for, beautiful as I thii)k Montague's wife is, I have often seen her look very scornful, even at my brother, have not you mamma?" The Marchioness, to whom this discourse was be- ginning to have a tendency to ruffle the sweetness of her temper, now pettishly pronounced — *' I wish child you would attend more to my looks, which are now all anxiety, and impatiently wish you tf 7 X 162 THH fishsr's DaUCHTFR. to make yoor exit as speedily as possible, in order that you may be dressed in time (ov dinner. Come, here is Flouijce, and positively I will not suff'eryou to talk to me any longer J you have vapoured me to death already, with recounting the nameless graces and innumerable perfections of your monkish cousin. Odds n)y life, am I to hear nothing from morning to night rung hi my ears but praises of your brother's wife? L vow child, you have caught the contagion from the lips of your father; 1 shall have my whole establishment infected with it by and bye, all, I think, but Tartlet, and she, sagacious woman, knows better than to greet her uns- tress's ear with no sweeter sound than the praise of my son's pretty mopsey. Let me hear no more of such dull stuff, I desire you, Lavinia, but go to your dress- itig room, and make yourself as lovely as possible, in order to attract the attention of the Duke towards you. Put on the white dress you wore the other evening at Lady Tannington's ball, and weave your hair with simple flowers. This is the taste of your uncle Or- lando; he has an aversion to the grand and the extra- vaganneoi fashion and splendour ; he should have been a cottage swain, and his daughter a shepherdess; sweet souls, they would then have been superlatively blest, and moving in their proper element. But come, go darling, and do as I command you." The darling instinctively obeyed, (for, to say truth, the Lady Lavinia was not yet out of leading strings, and was a little afraid of her beautiful mamma, for so she always called her,) yet lingered a moment, and asked fqr a kiss of beautiful mamma before they parted. " There, go naughty girl, I can't abide yc," uttered THE fisher's daughter. 163 the Marchioness, kissing the blooming check of her daughter, with as much sensibility or natural affection glowing in her bosom for her child (for Lord Monta- gue had been her favourite) as if she had pressed the leaves of a red cabbage, instead of the roseate lips that invited her touch from the youthful Lady Lavinia, who in a coaxing altitude pronounced, as she closed the door of the boudoir after her, and looking at Flounce with an expression half jest and half earnest, though certainly such as the waiting gentlewoman could scarcely resist — " The pink crape frock, with the lace tucker, Mrs. Flounce, pniy let beautiful mamma wear no other, it will have such a fine effect. The w^holc of the shoul- deis will be nearly bare; beautiful mamma has prodi- gious fine shoulders, and the pink frock will be an ad- mirable exposition, will not it Mrs. Flounce?" '* Yes, your ladyship, pink is exceedingly becoming the complexion, it sets off' a blush so well," answered the waiting gentlewoman, who having sidled atid sidled till she had fairly got round to the back of the Marchioness's chair, stood almost unable to stifle an immoderate propensity to laughter, which the sight of the pink frock had so involuntarily produced; not for a moment supposing that, vain as her lady was, she could carry her personal vanity to such absurdity, as to make choice of an habiliment so highly preposte- rous for her mature season of life, and which was cet- tainly a more appropriate dress for Lady Lavinia, even if she had been many years younger than what she wa^ now. A silence of somp minutes ensued between the Marchioness and hci Abigail, after the departure 164 THE fisher's daughter. of Lavinia from the boudoir of beautiful mamma; and Flounce, who had stifled her propensity to down- right laughter with no inconsiderable difficulty, was not the first to break the ice, although the first to begin the necessary duties of the toilet; and well acquainted with the violent disposition of her lady, she waited for her orders in silence and submission, and knew, with- out making many researches into the mysteries of La- vater, that her countenance looked more like the pre- sage of a storm, than the smooth transpareiU surface of a silver lake ; and she ^jroke out into the following exclamation, soon after the presence of her daughter was no longer any restraint on her feelings — " What the devil, Flounce, do you mean by fidget- ing at the back of my chair? What are you after Pug?" To which Flounce made the following quaint reply— *' I am after combing your flaxen vvig my lady, I mean your d la Fenus wig, the last you got from Paris, with them long thingembobs that's hanging to the tail of it; flaxen to shew off* pink, and bright auburn to shew off blue, and black to shew off white. 1 learned all this by heart, when the young man that came a courting to me lived with Mr. Finefit, the hair dresser, that lives in the Burlington Arcade ; and then I learnt to shew off busts, that is, you know, my lady, the breasts and neck, to the best possible advantage, whe- ther black, brown, or fair, when I lived two doors from the Opera House, at the nmscjuerade warehouse in Panton Street, Leicester Square, where beauty is to be bought and sold every hour in the twenty-four, on the most reasonable terms. Lauk my lady, you have THE fisher's daughter. 165 no idea of what lessons I had to take when first I came up to town to learn to be a lady's maid ; and though I do say it, that should not say it, there was not a girl more cute than I was at learning of my business, not in all the country round. I was as sharp as a needle, ray lady, as the saying is, so I got on, and I got on, and I saved, and I saved, till smack I got a place with some of the high quality, till it was my good fortune to find favour in your ladyship's sight, after the death of poor Lady Whitewash. Dear soul, I thought she would never hold out much longer, after that last bak- ing and japanning of her beautiful face and neck ; she was pretty nigh sixty when she tried the experiment, which, as 1 am a living soul, made her look as young and as blooming as my Lady Lavinia; but, lauk a mercy, it did not last long, for she died six weeks af- terwards, the most awful and dreadful spectacle my eyes ever witnessed in all my born days, for she w^as as black as a coal, my ladyj so says I to myself, when 1 see her put into the coffin, all over shining with gold, and a beautiful white satin pillow under her poor death's head; so sa}s I, if this be coming of the being ground young again, the devil may fetch all the whitewashes for me; for true as your alive, my lady, my good old lady lost her life by the operation, as they call it, that had been performed on her." " To say nothing of the folly and absurdity which induced her to ado{)t so rash an expedient," uttered the ^Lirchioncss, scarcely able to suppress risibility at the plain unsophisticated manner in which Flounce had described the disastrous fate of her mistress, and a little dismayed at the fatal cunscqucnces which ac- 166 THE 1MSHER*S DAUGHTER. c/^mpany such inordinale gratification of personal vanity ; and conceiving that, all things considered, and as the Duke was to make one of the dinner party that day at her table, that some observations might be made on the pink frock with the lace tucker, she coun- Kfrmanded the order, and desired her Abigail to Iny her out a dress of a more matronly costume, and which, though it had not the art of exhibiting her bare shoulders, exceedingly becanKi her fine proportion- ed figure ; and with the addition of an elegant head- dress, she was content thus to go down and receive her illustrious visitor. Thus was an ignorant and simple domestic the means of saving superior rank and refined education from the censure, nay even the ridicule of all her acquaintances; nay, perhaps, from even the reproaches of her hus- band, which it is probable, after the departure of his guests, she v.ould necessarily have been exposed to. Thus are sweets even to be extracted from noisome weeds that we think worthless, and only view with contempt;- because there is not a doubt, notwithstanding the sarcastic remark of her daughter, that the Marchioness would still have appeared in the pink frock, but for the little useful anecdote which the unconscious Abigail had related so simply of the disas- trous fate of Lady Whitewash. A magnificent dinner, crowned with every hixnry that the season afforded, awaited the arrival of his Grace the Duke of Braganza, who, when lie got out of the carriage, and saluted his brother the Marquis and his fashionable lady, never appeared in higher spirits, or in more cxcellcLit humour. In the mean while. THE fisher's daughter. 167 every seducing ait that the Marchioness was complete mistress of, was employed to render this condesceudiujj brotherly visit of his Grace worthy of the favour con- ferred on her husband; nor were the most seemingly anxious enquiries after the health of dear Lady Agatha forgotten by this most artful, yet to all outward ap- pearance, most amiable and fascinating of women. " I have seen my dear child only this morning." ut- tered his Grace, '* and, I thank your ladyship, am happy to say that she is charmingly uell, notwith- standing the presages w^hich young married w^omeii always feel in a certain delicate situation.'* '* Which, thank heaven, does not last for ever, that's one comfort for our dear little Agatha,'' uttered her ladyship, and smiled encbantingly ; in short, in the eyes of the Duke, his sister-in-law never appeared to greater advantage; but there was evidently a forced restraint on the feelings of the Marquis, bis brother, to join in the mirthful pleasantry of his lady, though it i>assed unnoticed by his Grace. On the name of Lord VVinstone being announced the whole party sat down to dinner, when the attentions of the latter gentleman were certainly exclusively devoted to the beautiful La- vinia, whom he had seen several times before, with eyes of the most passionate admiration, though kept within bbunds of the most delicate propriety ; and her ladyship 'certainly succeeded this day in obtaining a complete conquest over his heart, though unconscious to himself that her ascendancy was so powerful. Hand- some, elegant, rich, accomplished, and possessed of the most unblemished principles. Lord VVinstone was a desirable match for a daughter of the first peer of 168 THE FISFIF.U'S DAUGHTER. the realm, but particularly so to Lady Lavinia Mon- tault, wfiose portion w^as so inconsiderable, and as her mother had informed her, that if she did not marry well, she could derive but little portion of wealth from her father. The moment therefore that she perceived she had made a favourable impression on the heart of Lord Winstone, she encouraged his advances as far as ever she was able, consistent with maiden modesty; but on this day that Lord Winstone became the guest of the Marqurs of Monlault, his attentions to his lovely daugh- ter were so delicate, yet so strongly manifested the sentiments she had inspired him with, that no one being present could doubt of their nature. In short, the instructions which her mother had given her, with re- spect to this noble lord on a former occasion, when he danced with her at Lady Tannington's Ball, had never been forgotten by the youthful Lavinia, who never ap- peared to greater advantage than she did in the eyes of her lover at her father's table; for the simple ele- gance of her dress was far more becoming than when- ever he had beheld it so sumptuously adorned in the fashionable and splendid parties where they had first met; there was also a bewitching reserve in Lady Lavinia, which certainly adds to maiden loveliness, but can never diminish the charm of beauty, and which, to men of refined delicacy and sentiment, is a thousand times more engaging than the most bril- liant vivacity, or the most lively or piercing wit; but the truth was, that Lady Lavinia was abashed by the presence of the Duke and her father, and therefore conversed but little with Lord Winstone, w4\o it ap- tHE FISH6r's daughter. peared liked her the better for this veiy timidity which she affected, for certainly it was not naturally a feature in her character. After dinner some interesting conversation ensued, animated on the part of his Grace, grave on that of his brother, elegant, lively, and spirited on that of Lord Winstone, and most fascinating ou that of the Mar- chioness. " I protest that I am absolutely half inclined to quar- rel ivlth my son, for not joining our snug little party to day, your Grace," uttered her ladyship; "and I will make him do penance every day next week for it." This remark produced a polite enquiry from Lord Winstone, after the health of Lord and Lady Montague Montault. It may be remembered in a former part of this history, that Lord Winstone, in company with his friend Sir George Cleveland, had once accidentally en- countered Agatha with Olive and Jpssy Blust, one evening on returning from a visit to Margaret Crafty; and that both these gentlemen having indulged too freely in the juice of the grape, had alarmed the young ladies by the effect of their gallantry; but to the then supposed Miss Singleton, by whose charms he was particularly attracted, Lord Winstone had thought pro{)er to offer the most ample apology. This circum- stance had often occurred to his lordship's recollection whenever the name of Agatha was introduced, and he did not mention her now without betraying some em- barrassment, and a slight tinge of colour mounting to his cheek, the cause of which not being known to any of the party, it passed unnoticed. But there was another cause for the roseate tint on the a H Y 170 THB fisher's daughter. cheek of Lord Wiristone, if the truth must needs be told, (and it is certainly not our intention to conceal the truth in any part of this history from our readers,) and that was connected with Agatha, when he beheld her in the character of the orphan daughter of Captain Singleton. Her uncommon elegance of person and manner, with the marked and decisive tone of energy in which she commanded him and his inebriated young friend, Sir George Cleveland, to desist from presuming to offer them the slightest indecorum that could trans- gress the bounds of propriety, with the bewitching beauty of her countenance, and the modest dignity which, at the same instant, veiled all those transcend- ant charms, even from the bold familiar glance of the presuming stranger, had altogether so sudden an effect on the charmed senses of Lord Winstone, that when he arrived at his own habitation, and had completely lost sight of the charming phantom which possessed his imagination, it was difficult to ascertain which his lordship was most intoxicated by, love or wine ; at least that love which may be called passion, for what is love but a passion flower? and which beauty, when it dazzles the eye, inspires at the first ecstatic glance of. But how was this beauty to be come at ? or was she come-at-ahle at all ? that was the question, but who was to resolve it? She vras living under the roof of the fisher Blust, was the daughter of a Captain Singleton, who resided at the Cottage on the Cliff, but had lately been lost on the night of the tempest which bad wreck- ed so many vessels on the coast. Well then, Agatha was now the orphan daughter of this Captain Single- ton 5 but who was this. Captain Singleton ? Nobody THK fisher's daughter. 171 could answer ihat question ; he was a recluse, avoiding- the sight, and shunning the converse of every human being, save alone his beautiful companion, his lovely daughter, whose angelic looks were the admiration of every one who beheld her. Well, this lovely creature was living under the roof of the fisher Blust, wlio had afforded her an asylum in his house ever since she had the misfortune to be bereft of her father. Here was an obstacle at once thrown in the way of all invaders. The eye of licentiousness might gaze on Ix^auty from without the doors of Peter Blust, but dared not cross his threshold. The ways of Peter were pretty well known to all who lived in the neighbourhood of Cro- mer, and few there were that did not also kiuow that when Peter made use of any arguments, finding him- self aggressed, that they were always knock-me-dowu ones, so that he seldom met with an opponent who had courage enough to contend with him. Lord Winstone having learned all these particulars from the grand chart of universal knowledge in a country town, a circulating library, retired to his mag- nificent mansion, surrounded by the most splendid luxury, in absolute despair of ever being able to ac- complish his desire, and that was, to behold the beau- tiful daughter of this Captain Singleton again ; for to enter the house of Peter Blust under any pretence whatever, where there were so many young and lovely fenrales in it, Lord Winstone knew w^ould be a moral impossibility 5 for suspecting the motive, Peter would use very little ceremony in slapping the door in his face, and would much rather give entrance to a pack of blood hounds than to any lord in the country. Yet 173 THE fisher's daughter. to feast his eyes daily on such beauty, to sit at the same table with her, to gaze on her charming, energetic^ and soul-speaking countenance, or to listen to the sound of her voice, which was melody itself, — these were joys reserved for Peter Blust and not for him; — and Lord Winstone, in the midst of, love's soft emotion, or rather commotion, cursed his stars that he was not an old fisherman instead of a peer of the reajm ; for he believed that Miss Singleton, with her present protec- tor by her side, was neither come-at-able for him or any one else, and that, like the Hesj)erian fruit, she was guarded by a dragon, too formidable to suffer any one to invade his territories, or permit her being approach- ed with imjmnitvr Lord Winstone feared therefore that he must give up the chase, or seek it through any other channel, than having Peter for a pilot to steer him on his voyage thither. Give up the chase ! are you then going to make Lord Winstone a fox hunter in the wilds of love ? Lord Win- stone, of whom fame has spoken so highly — a professed and practised libertine? for shame Mrs, Authoress. No shame at all, gentle reader, for the authoress is pot going to make Lord Winstone any such thing ; she would blush to see his name enrolled among the list of the licentiates of the present fashionable day, and must positively exculpate both him and herself from the charge. • Lord Winstone had not formed the remotest notion pf what kind of sentiment he felt for Agatha, the feel- ing at present being only admiration, or if passion, it wasj to use the phraseology of a most celebrated and admired author, " a passion so transiently caught, that THE FISHF.R S DAUGHTliR. IJ3 it played round his heart with the flittering radiance of a wintry sunbeam flashing against an icicle, which brightened it for a moment, but could not melt it;'-' and perhaps Lord \Mnstone's passion for the beautiful Agatha is described by a metaphor of the same ad- mired writer, " that the pleasure of the lover is like the hunter in the chase, where tlie briirhtest beautv loses half its merit, as the fairest flower its perfume, when the willing hand can reach it too easily. There must be danger, there must be difficulty ; and as the course of ardent affection never does run smooth, it is because without some intervening obstacle, that which is called the romantic passion of love in its high poetical cha- racter, can hardly have an existence, any more than there can be a current in a river, without the stream being narrowed by steep banks, or checked by opposing rocks." And these were the motives which secretly guided the first impulse of inclination in the breast of Lord Winstone for the lovely protegee of the fisher Biust. There was pleasure in the chase, because thcie \vas difficulty attached to it, or there had been no pleasure at all in the pursuit. When, however, the report of Miss Singleton's extraordinary flight from the house of her protector reached the ear of Lord Winstone, it oc- casioned him a momentary sensation of regret, mor- tification, and disappointment ; for he attributed the so sudden disappearance of this lovely young creature, to no other than the njachinations of some favoured and accepted lover ; and he then reproached himself for not having made some advances to obtain so fair a prize, which was now completely beyond his reaclu 174 THE fisher's daughter. And pray had this honourable lord any honourable intentions towards Miss Singleton, that he was so desirous of seeking her acquaintance? What sort of proposals had he to make to her ? That we cannot pre- cisely tell, gentle reader, for who are to know men's hearts till they are fairly tried ? But is it possible to suppose, that when he beheld such extraordinary beauty united with such extraordinary worth and sweetness, such a character as Lord Winstone would have been insensible to their value, or that he would not have made Miss Singleton an offer as highly creditable to himself as it would have been honour- able to her? And one only proposal can ever meet a woman of honour or delicacy : need we repeat it? — it is marriage, in which all holy and sacred ties should be concentred, arid made firm and lasting by eternal love, both here and hereafter; and only death should ever dissolve that holy tie and that holy partnership. Where . a union of hearts should be sanctioned by a union of hands, it is the only coinpliment that n)au can pay to the wonian that he truly loves ; and all pas- sion else is fading and perishable as the flower. Not that we are so rigid or so afUctedly fastidious to suppose that love does not exist without this mar- riage tie. We know that it can, and perhaps faith- fully ; but marriage is woman's best protector. Mnn does not require it, but the helplessness of wonia > does; and where true love is, marriage-, if pns,sil)!e, should immediately follow ; giving woman respect in the eyes of the world, and no man can love a woman truly if he does not wish to see her respected. When, however, after the long absence of Miss Sin- THE fisher's daughter. IJ^ gleton, which drnkl m no way be accounted for by the inhabitants of Cromer, the connecting circumstances which attended her sudden flight from the abode of the fisher Blust, being involved in complete mystery ; when the cloud of obscurity was dispersed which so long had concealed this bright jewel from the eyes of an admiring world ; when in all her native lustre she bui-st on their astonished sight as the acknowledged daughter and rightful heiress of the Duke of Braganza ; the congra- tulations she received were loud and fervent ; when not a stain sullied the transccndant purity of her character, vhe whole town of Cromer was in a blaze ; and when as the bride of Lord Montague Montault, she soon ap- peared receiving and dispensing blessings on all around her ; the tongue of envy was silenced, and slander, like a snake, slunk to its beastly hiding place, fearful of again showing its crested front, to escape being crushed to atoms. And none more than Lord Winstone hailed the re- turn and the victory of the lovely w^anderer, though abashed by the reflections which, in disappointed pas- sion and jealousy, he had cast upon her; for at her flight he certainly suspected young Lord Montague for having some share in it ; and often, when they met, rallied him on his passion for the fair fugitive, which Lord Montague not only positively denied, but also that very passion with which the beautiful Agatha had so long deeply inspired him ; and at a public dinncr^at Sir George Cleveland's, some high words arose be- tween these two honourable lords on the subject of Miss Singleton. Lord Winstone, as the circling 176 THE fisher's daughter. glass went round, exclaiming with a s^arcastic expres- sion, more pointed than ocfasion warranted — '• Here's to the recluse of the silver lake, alias the Montague Cottage Beauty." " Or the Veiled Nun," vociferated Sir George, en- joying the repartee of his friend, and laughing with immoderate warmth. " In either of these characters we hail her as the nymph divine who has pierced the heart of a young Montague, and made him invulner- able to the charms of all beauty, save alone the charms of Agatha Singleton. For gad though, Montague, it was too bad not to let Winstone and I have a peep at your divinity before you took her to her hiding-place, : like a young rabbit out of a warren, for your own pri- vate picking. Oh Montague, sly dog I and a most ex- cellent poacher at your time of life." A loud peal of laughter was now directed in full ar- tillery against the evidently embarrassed Lord Monta- gue; and, colouring deei)ly, he protested utter igno- rance of the flight of Miss Singleton from the house of the fisher Blust, or whither that flight had been direc- cd, or by what means effected. " On my soul, on my honor as a man, I know nothing of the transaction," uttered his lordship. " That won't do Montague," cried Sir George, who by this time had drank pretty deeply of the flowing bowl, '• it is all a hum. You know more about the beauty of the Cliff than you dare confess, because you are well aware that you would get finely hoaxed for it, and that the old fisherman would play the devil with you for taking away his girl from him." THE fisher's daughter. 1/7 Another loud laugh prevailed at the expense of Lord Montague, who, equally warm with wine as well as his companions, and stung to the quick by being accused of any dishonourable transaction against the happiness and character of an object, whom he felt, in spite of appearances, that he still passionately adored, indig- nantly exclaimed, while he darted a look expressive of his wounded feelings at Sir George Cleveland — '' Your insinuation is false, Sir George, with respect to what you are pleased so presumptuously to assert, that I know any thing relative to the sudden disap- pearance of Miss Singleton from the house of Mr. Blust. I again repeat that I am utterly ignorant both as to the circumstance of her flight or the place of her concealment ; and that whether you credit my veracity or not Sir George, is a matter of the most perfect in- difference to me." " Umph — hem — haw l" cried Sir George, helping himself to another glass of claret, and pushing the bottle over to his friend Lord Winstone, who finding that Lord Montague was really offended, and feeling that he had certainly been as much an aggressor as Sir George, who had only seconded his sarcastic observa- tions, endeavoured to appease the irritability of the young lord, still, however, playfully sporting with the object of their sarcastic pleasantry. " Why Montague, you are as many fathoms deep in love, as ever shepherd was with a wood nymph of the valley," uttered he; ** but to quarrel about a girl after the folly she has been guilty of is preposterous. For gad, I should not think such a woman worth a fea- ther, who is so lightly minded." 68 ' z ^7^ THE FISHERS DAUGH PER. *'• Lightly iiiiiuled, my lord?" uttered Lord Mon- tague fiei'cely. '* And do you call Agatha lightly ii)iiide(i ?" To which, with cq:uil warmth, Lord Win- btoue replied — *' Yc!5, most decidedly, Lord Montague; but if your lordship can find a more apj)ropriate term for such ex- cessive im}>ropiiety, and so gross a departure from all female .delicacy, you are certainly at liberty to do so; bat thoughts are free; every body has a right to think what they please of the conduct of Miss Singleton^, and so shall L" " Ditto!" vociferated Sir George. " We are not t«)ngue-iied, though it is clear one of the present com- pany is heart-tied. Here's a breeze about a runaway girl, that 1 would not give a bunch of nettles for. Curse me if 1 would not fall in love with one of the old fishernian's daughters rather than this sentimental denjure-looking piece of still life. 1 always compared her to Pigmallion's statue, rat me if I did not. 1 shall ever remember the scornful smile that played on her lip, when Winstone wanted to snatch a hasty kiss of the coy lady. But I never knew a piece of ice that did not melt, and so will Agatha Singleton." This sarcasm was not to be borne, or tolerated with human patience ; and Lord Montague immediately arose from the table, addressing Sir George in the fol- lowing manner, and with an expression that proved that no apology would temper the deep wound he had given to his feelings. " Sir George Cleveland, I quit your house, and that for ever, with no wish that our former intimacy bhould be renewed. The manner in which you have THE fisher's daughter. 179 spoken of a helpless aiid unprotected female, makes you unworthy of the friendship of your own sex, if you have no compassion for the other, who, whetiier she be the frail being you describe or not, is still a woman ; and it is unmanly of you to sport with the feelings of the unfortunate. The character of Miss Singleton, Sir, is still unimpeached. There is not one individual that can prove an aspersion on her reputation, nor will I believe her to be otherwise than the pure faultless angel that I take her for, and am confident that I shall find her so, should chance ever bless me with her presence again. The mystery of her flight and concealment is for the present involved in darkness. But why should suspi- cion follow the steps of the sweet wanderer ? Or why should that scorpion slander uplift its forked head, to crush a lovely flower, that every man should feel it his duty to protect from the pitiless storm ? Shame on you gentlemen, for cherishing sentiments so discredit- able to your feelings. If she has fled voluntarily from the house of her protector, she has a motive for so doing, and we ought to know what that motive is be- fore we judge of the act. Maik that Sir George, and eternally I bid you farewell. A time may come, and in the presence of Agatha Singleton, when you may blush for this day's conversation, and repent of your hasty and ungenerous conclusions. Remember, Sir, that woman's reputation in the hands of her own sex may be treated with ungentleness : envy and jea- lousy sometimes produce the cause : but in that of men it should ever be held sacred, as the purest at- mosphere that breathes from the face of heaven ; and he is worse than a savage who exposes it. to. the ani- 180 THE fisher's daughter. mad versions and insults of a censorious, ill-judging, and merciless world, or feels a pride in boasting of its downfall." From this day Sir George Cleveland and Lord Mon- tague never met on terms of friendship or amity again; nor was Lord Winstone for a considerable length of time reinstated in the good graces of his young friend, although it is very certain that he made the most am- ple apology that one man of nice honor and delicate feeling could make to another under existing circum- stances, and which Lord Montague could do no other- wise, as a gentleman, than accept of; but the cordial smile of warm, generous, and disinterested friendship, which was always seen to play round the lip of young Montague whenever he suddenly or accidentally en- countered Lord Winstone, was no longer there ; and the name of Agatha Singleton would instantly cover his lordship's face with blushes of confusion, while to the memory of Lord Montague, it would ever recal the deep and bitter taunts which were cast on the spotless character of the woman he adored, the day he dined at Sir George Cleveland's. It was no wonder then, that after the exaltation of this lovely creature from obscurity, to such high birth and splendid riches, the daughter of the Duke, and the bride of Lord Montague Montault, (whose sister, the Lady Lavinia, was now the object of his lordship's most ardent affection,) that he felt inconceivably abashed in the presence of her noble relatives; and that the name of Agatha was never mentioned by Lord Winstone, without the consciousness of having once aimed the shafts of ridicule, and bitter sneer of irony THE fisher's daughter. 181 against an object, whose superior loveliness of person could only be rivalled by charms still more transcend- antly beautiful, and those were the charms of a gene- rous heart, a pure imagination^ and an elegant mind. CHAPTER VIII. •* Oh that I were an iDdian wild, Oil whom the star of freedom smiled, I'd be a fond idolater, And worship that dear brilliant star. Whene'er I chose, again I'd change. Where'er I pleased, in freedom range ; Uubiass'd, merry, blest, and free, Beneath thy star, dear liberty 1" Pritchard. When the hand of time is tipped with roseate fingers, the leaden weight is removed that pressed them down, and it passes over our heads as swiftly as the transient colours of the rainbow ; the winged moments fly as if by magic, and no one stays to count the passing hours which they compose. So passed the day at the Castle of Montault, the day that was destined to behold Lady Lavinia in the entire possession of the heart of Lord Winstone ; nor were the accomplishments she displayed soen after dinner. 182 THE fisher's daughter. by a most finished performance on the harp, necessary to complete her conquest over his affections, for he would have loved her had she never played at all. " Love's a Tyrant," had been requested by his Grace the Duke of Braganza, and *' Ali Perdona,*' from Mo- zart's Italian Opera, by Lord Witistone; and Lady La- vinia executed both airs, though very different in their composition, with the most inimitable grace and expres- sion, displaying the most enchanting style of elegance and science, and receiving the most rapturous plaudits from her delighted auditors, who had listened to her with the most profound attention. Of course all engagements w^re postponed for that evening, and many succeeding ones, for the wily Mar- chioness had now fresh game in view, with respect to the establishment of her daughter, which absorbed every faculty, and engrossed the whole of her most serious contemplations. Lord Winstone was now a constant visitor at the Castle of Montault; and al- though he had not declared himself the lover of Lady Lavinia, it was very obvious, from his delicate atten- tions towards her, that he would shortly tender her proposals of the most honourable kind ; and the pleas- ing anticipations of so advantageous a marriage, with the splendid and glittering prospects that awaited it, were reflections so delightful to the imagination, both of the mother and the daughter, that they could talk of nothing else, think of nothing eiso, dream of nothing else, but what charming dresses won'id be made for the important occasion, what superb liveries, what dazzling equipage, and above all what a handsome settlement would be made on her ; in short, it was the perpetual THE fisher's daughter. 183 theme of their conversation by night and by day,— the preparations, and the delightful bustle and confusion that Montault Castle would be thrown in by the wed- ding, which the Marchioness was actually as highly delighted and transported with the thoughts of, as the youthful Lavinia. But as a mother, it never once occur- red to the Marchioness to ask her child if her heart felt any interest in a man who would in all probability be- come her husband, or whether she preferred him to all others she had yet seen in the world's earthly space ? Yes, the Marchioness, in the brilliant airy phantoms that swam across her imagination, and the circle she had drawn around her, of the pleasures, the pomp, the magnificent drawing rooms of crowded nobility that awaited the marriage of her daughter with this accom- ])lished nobleman, had entirely forgotten what were the essential points that form the happiness of a marriage life ; that it was necessary for those who enter into an union so sacred and so lasting, to consider that the colour of their whole future destiny depends upon it ; that it is mysteriously interwoven \vith the charm or the care of our existence ; and that to form an alliance under auspices where fortune only leads the way to the temple of Hymen, will never be productive of that hap- piness which ought always to be the accompaniment of the conjugal state, where mutual esteem, and an intimate knowledge of disposition and of character are absolutely requisite, as much as a suitable proportion of parties in rank and fortune, in taste and pursuits. But these essential points had never once entered the imagination of either the mother or the daughter ; the latter indeed thought Lord Winstone a handsome 184 THB fisher's daughter. man, and the former knew that he was a rich one ; and these points were essential enough for them. Lady Lavinia was at that age when woman's heart is sus- ceptible only of light impressions, which vanity only creates ; and her mind was not capable of judging systematically, whether she should or should not be happy in a marriage state with Lord Winstone. She did not consider the man so much as the blandishments of fortune that he possessed, and the splendour he would exalt her to when she should become his wife. Her mother had never told her that any thing more was necessary, and she herself did not believe there was. Such is the basis, we are sorry to observe, on which are formed alliances of the present fashionable day; and few women of fashion ever look or think beyond it. But while things were precisely in this state at the Castle of Montault, they were of a more serious com- plexion at the residence of Lord Montague Montault, for the Duke received a note, and the Marchioness another from her son, intreating that they would im- mediately attend the summons, in consequence of the sudden indisposition of his lovely wife. They w^ere both couched in a style which bespoke the distraction of a doating and agonized husband, who feared to lose the dearest treasure he possessed in existence ; and his Grace, with feelings no less affected, rushed into the dressing room of the Marchioness, who had then Lord Montague's letter in her hand, while she exclaimed — " I will order the carriage immediately : but let me persuade your Grace to dismiss these unnecessary ap- prehensions respecting the situation of Lady Agatha* THE fisher's daughter. 185 there is nothing to occasion you so much alarm as you may imagine." " Nothing to alarm mc^ when I am told that my child is ill, and in danger, and by her husband?" ut- tered his Grace, pacing the room in the most frantic agony. "God of heaven! Nothing to alarm me? Had your ladyship not been a mother, you might have asked me that question; and had I not been a father, I might have answered it, but that question is perfectly unanswerable at the present moment." " Nay, my dear Duke, I did not mean to infer that you should not be concerned at the indisposition of Lady Agatha; every one must be concerned for the dear creature, although the cause of her illness is so common to those in her critical situation, and I have not the least doubt but it is a presage of an event to which we are all looking with the greatest anxiety; and you will find that I am right in my conjecture, and that Montague has frightened us all unnecessarily; but come, your Grace, the carriage is at the door I per- ceive, we will therefore lose no time in parleying about the matter." Nor did they, for the Duke handed her ladyship into it, and it immediately drove off; and on their arrival at Lord Montague Montault's, what was their surprize and astonishment to hear from the lips of a now joyful and transported husband, that the dangerous crisis was now over with his adored wife, who only an hour before they arrived had given birth to a son, and with its lovely mother was likely to do well. " Heaven be praised my dear Montague," uttered his Grace ; " my child, my blessed child is preserved C8 A A 186 THE FISHEU's DAUGHTER. to US ;" and unable to utter another sentence, the Duke was so overpowered as to burst into a flood of tears, which greatly relieved his full heart, while her ladyship exclainied — " I am prodigiously glad, that is I am really prodi- giously happy, my dear Montague, that your fears have so terminated ; but it was nothing more than what J expected, and what I exactly predicted, was it not, your Grace? I said that a little stranger would come into court very shortly, and so it has you see ; a boy too, a son and heir; what delightful news for the Marquis! I give you joy your Grace ; your daughter has made you a grandfather." To which his Grace, whose feelings were now tran- quilized, as w^ell as being transported, immediately re- plied — " 1 return your ladyship the compliment, with equal warmth, for your son has also made you a grand- mother ; so let us shake hands, for they are certainly titles of which neither of us hav>e any reason to be ashamed." The Marchioness coloured deeply in spite of her usual colouring of rouge, for it vvas very perceptible that her looks betrayed no small share of vexation at the retort courteous which his Grace had given her, and that she did not think the title he had bestowed was quite so complimentary as he imagined, and that she would have disj)ensed with it altogether had it been possible. Policy however recommended her ladyship to adopt a very different style of behaviour, and to ap- pear (if she really was not so) delighted with the birth of the infant son of the Lady Agatha, and to join in THE fisher's daughter. 187 the rapturous congi-atulations that such an event had jjioduced in the Bragauza family; a son not only hav- ing been wished for by Loid Montague, but by his father the Marquis, in order that the Braganza estates and princely inheritance might descend to the heirs of his family, if any should be born of the Duke's daugh- ter ; but as mortality was confined to no sex or age, but was the general lot of all, it might be possible that Lord Montague (although he hoped that event was far distant) might be the first to be summoned to that bourne, from whence no traveller ever returns ; and if there were no children, it was very likely that the Lady Agatha would enter a second time into a matrimonial connection ; so beauteous and fascinating a creature would have many admirers to succeed his son, and en- deavour to gain an interest in her heart and secure her affections; and that if indeed such an event happened, the Braganza estates would descend to the children of the second marriage. These were the reflections of the Marquis, till the alteration in the lovely shape of the Lady Agatha became too apparent to be mistaken in the cause of its increasing size, and which the Mar- quis no sooner perceived, than he was transported be- yond the power of expression, all his fears and appre- hensions subsiding, and only hoping that the child of his beloved Montague might prove a boy. His prayer' was granted ; and when the Marchioness, who had staid a few minutes in the bed chamber of her daugh- ter-in-law, and beheld also her newly born little grand- son sleeping at the side of its beauteous mother, who, though languid, addressed the Marchioness in a voice, which had more of a seraph in it than of earthly being, — ^§8 THE fisher's daughter. \vrhen she desired the nurse to gently remove the in- fant, and hold it up to the Marchioness, that she might; imprint a kiss on its little forehead, where the liken^^s, of its father wt^s so peculiarly striking, as to make it seem but a lesser image of himself, — a small touch of nature made the Marchioness bend over its lovely form,j and give the kiss that nature so strongly and powerfully (}enf\anded of its grandmother; and it was pressed for a poment in her arms, while she exclaimed to its '^Out upon the little urchin, I protest he has become boisterous already ; look how he has discomposed th^ lace handkerchief on my bosom.'' " But what does your ladyship think of my sweet boy ?" faintly, yet in a tone of rapture, demanded the Lady Agatha, as she gazed on the face of the lovely innocent when the nurse again laid it beside her. " Has he not the very look, although so young, of my dear Montague?" " Yes, I protest I think so my dear," uttered the Marchioness ; *' he is prodigiously like his father, though he has got such dark sparkling eyes 5 but the rest of his pretty face is certainly Montague's. But I shall fatigue you my love, for you now require neces- sary repose, so farewell for the present. I shall bring; Lavinia to see the bantling to-morrow, and shall report tp the Marquis an account of his little grandson, of whom I have no doubt but he will be particularly proud." With these words, the kindest she had ever yet uttered to her daughter-in-law, the Marchioness de- parted, paying a few compliments to Lord Mo^taguje THE fisher's daughter. 189 on the beauty of his son and heir, as she s^tepped into her carriage alone, for the Duke staid to pass the re- mainder of the day in. the society of Lord Montague; for his Grace protested that he should not be able to leave the hoose, without being permitted to take a peep at the treasure which had that day been produced to the house of Braganza. " Permit you, uncle ?" exclaimed Lord Montague, as soon as the carriage of the Marchioness was fairly out of sight; '* aiid do you require permission of me to ^proach youi' own child ? 1 have not yet seen my Agatha since she has made me the most transported of all human beings, and you know not how I long to behold my child." "Your first-born I ah, I do not doubt it I" uttered the Duke, dee];)Iy sighing. ^* I have a pretty good guess, Montague, of -ivhat your present sensations now are, for they were once mine. Alas ! how bitterly have I mourned over the deprivation of those sensations which ought to have heen mine in their fullest perfection. My cruel, my vindictive, my ambitious mother, robbed me of all, save her whom destiny has presened. My Agatha, my lost aiigel Agatha, became her victim. Fool that I was to leave her in her power ; and she would also have robbed me of this only treasure which heaven had spared, bu*, for the intervention of Al- mighty Providence, which would not suffer wicked deeds to go unpunished or to succeed ; yet this wo- nian was my mother. Gads, this woman was a mo- ther — my mother 1 — she to whom I owe my being. Merciful and eternal Father of all created universe, pardon her crimes, for they were of a magnitude that 190 THM fisher's daughtbk. I dare not think of, and she died without repentance; yes, Montague, she died without repentance. Heaven pardon her guilty soul ; and may the lovely angel she sent to an untimely grave, plead for her at the throne of mercy." "Yet heaven has been just to its faithful votaries, my dearest uncle," uttered Lord Montague, considerably affected by the recollection of all the wrongs that his grandmother had inflicted on the revered being before him ; and that had her machinations but prevailed, his adored Agatha would not have called him at this moment husband. Still there was a delicacy in speaking of the deceased Duchess, who, with all her faults, had been most pas- sionately fond of him, which Avas most admirable in Lord Montague, and which the Duke thought so nobly of, that he felt it his duty to desist from so painful and heart-wounding a subject, as that of dwelling on the crimes of a relative who had long since been called to account for her numerous transgressions. At length the wished-for moment arrived, when the Duke was summoned to the bed-side of the Lady Agatha by her own particular desire^ as also Lord Mon- tfigue ; but this was only on a promise given to the principal nurse, who had the c'are of Lady Montault, that they would not hold much converse with her lady, vrho was not able to bear it ; and this promise was ri- gidly performed by both of the parties, wlio were ad- mitted on tip-toe into the apartment; and after one look at the mother and the beautiful biibc that lay be- side her, they crept out as softly as they crept in. '' She is in a sweet sleep, and so, please you gen- 9 TFIE FISHEU's DAUGHTER. 191 tlcmeii, must not be disturbed," uttered tbe old uurse; and as she was commandiug officer there at present, iier orders were peremptorily obeyed ; but the sensa- tions of Lord Montague could not be controlled ; he wept with joy at the first glance of his new-born son. Nor weve the feelings of the Duke of Braganza less sensible of an event so joyous ; and it was an unusually late hour when he returned to Montault Castle, deter- mined that the ensuing day should be devoted to the most public rejoicings and benefactions to the poorest inhabitants in Cromer and the neighbouring villages, to commemorate the birth of the heir of Braganza and Montault. Alfred and Wolf had not yet been removed from the house of their protector, in consequence of the situa- tion of the Lady Agatha, but they were in the habit of going to Violet Vale every morning, to receive instruc- tions from the several masters who had been engaged to attend them, and it was surprising the progress that each of the youths had made in their studies. The meeting between the Lady Agatha, and her two companions in misfortune a»d adversity, had been re- spectfully silent and impressive, and on the part of Wolf embarrassed and confused ; and on asking after her lady- ship's health since their long separation, his voice be- came less firm than it was before, a deep crimson flushed his cheeks, and instead of meeting the cordial and affec- tionate glance of her whom he once called his pretty and adored sister, his fine intelligent dark piercing eyes were cast on the ground, as if he dared not encounter those heavenly features, at which he had so often gazed with the most unbounded transport and delight ; while i92 THE FISHim's DAUGHTER. Asratha, perfectly unconscious of the sensations she had ins})ired in the breast of the youth, or the cause of his excessive timidity in her presence, exchiimed, with a smile of the most fascinating sweetness, and at the same moment that she extended her lovely hand to- wards him— r " Why Wolf, you were not thus wont to shun the looks or the smiles of yonr sister Agatha, or be so dis- tant in your manners towards her ; and wherefore this reserve, this silent bashful timidity? think yon because I have found a new father and am married, that there is a crime in approaching me ? think not so hardly of my father or my dear lord, as to imagine they wish me to shew a different aspect to my old friends, or that I would treat them with coldness, merely because I have now the advantages of fortune, and move in a sphere of splendid affluence. No, Wolf, yon d/> m& rnji3«tice if you suppose so. My fortune may change, my heart never will." Astonished and confounded by a reception so flat- tering, sentiments so noble and ingenuous, and man- ners so fascinatingly beautiful, poor Wolf blushed a yet deeper red ; and not daring to press the lovely hand that still rested in his own, attempted to say something in justification of his feelings, but made a very awk- ward hand of it, till Alfred (who had a pretty good guess at the nature of his feelings) helped him out, by observing that both Wolf and himself had learned bettfjr manners since she had beheld them at the house of the fisher Blust; and being total strangers to her ladyship's splendid connections, considereiJ her no longer the being they had once approached with the familiarity THE FISHER S DAUGHTER. 193 of a beloved foster sister, because she was now so raised above them in the exalted sphere in which she moved, that were either the Duke of Braganza or Lord Montague present, they might deem such attention as Wolf and himself had been accustomed to pay her at Herring Dale, intrusive and presumptuous. Nay, in the critical situation in which they now stood with respect to his Grace, he might accuse them of bold- ness, m presuming to address her ladyship in a familiar manner. Alfred in trying to make matters better had certainly made them worse, for he had by no means explained himself to the satisfaction of his lovely auditor ; who, surprised that Wolf had not been able to explain the nature of his own feelings, and perceiving that he yet looked more deeply embarrassed than before, turned towards him, and in a serious tone, while her dark piercing eyes seemed to have shot electric fire through his whole frame, she exclaimed — *^ And are those your sentiments Wolf? am I no longer your sister ? and do you fear to approach me in that character, because my father or my husband may deem you guilty of presumption ? Fie — fie young man, to think so hardly, so meanly of them ; they are above Vich prejudices, and I would despise myself for the unworthy thought, were I to cherish pride because my station were exalted and my fortunes splendid. Hence with that sombre shade of melancholy then, brave in- trepid boy, that so little suits thy martial brow, and thy high towering spirit ; and be assured, if you know it not dear Wolf and Alfred, that Agatha, although the a9 BB 194 THE FISHER. S DAUGHTER. wife of Lord Montague Montault, and the daughter ot the Duke Braganza, will take no shame in owning you for her brothers still. On the night when the rough tempest threw you poor shipwrecked boys upon our coast, I gave to each of you a hand of Agatha Single- ton, for I deemed myself an orphan too ; and from thrt very hour a feeling sprung in my heart spontaneously, for nature gave it birth, and heaven and all holy angels sanctioned it. It was the sister's love I felt for you, Wolf, when the rough waves made us co-partners in sorrow, and in the dark threatening hour of human ills. Nor felt I less for you dear Alfred ; but Wolf was with me in a deeper trial still. The mouldering ruins of the old abbey now bear witness to our mutual suf- ferings and our mutual grief; for me you bore it man- fully at your tender age ; I never saw mortal courage burn with greater ardour, and for that, brave boy, you evermore will be dear to the heart of Agatha." *' Oh lady, speak not so kindly; methinks Pd far better have you chide me, for then I should not hear the music of your voice float so sweetly on my ear as now it does ; so thrilling, as it ux>uld seem that angels gave it breath and sweetness. Would I had died lady, when I was with you in the ruins of the old abbey, and you were Agatha Singleton, for then you would have pitied me. But 1 pray you pardon me, gentle Lady Agatha, that the thoughts of past times have made me talk so strangely." *^ And wildly too, I think boy," uttered the con- founded Agatha, and with a slight suffusion of colour mounting to her delicate cheek. " You must suppress THK FISHERS DAUGHTEft. 195 such thoughts that make you such a fond enthusiast. Why didst thou wish to die in the ruins of the abbey, pray — for pity's sake ?" ^' No, for yours lady," would have murmured the lips of Wolf, had he dared to have given utterance to such a sentence ; and Alfred fearing that the important se- cret which his soul so laboured with, would in another unguarded moment escape him, and for ever consign him to disgrace and misery, as well as eventually ruin their fortunes, he very quickly hurried him out of the presence of the Lady Agatha, on the pretence of re- minding him of an engagement with one of their mas- ters in translating the foreign languages : and for this time the danger that Alfred so apprehended was pre- vented. But no sooner had this amiable youth retired u'ith the companion of his heart to his own apartment, than he reproached him with the imprudent manner in which he had spoken to the Lady Agatha. " Have you taken leave of your senses, brother Wolf,*' uttered he, " that you are guilty of such preposterous folly, as to disclose so fearlessly the passion you feel for the Lady Agatha, who, if she knows it not now, (and I hope the evil is averted,) will at some future period both condemn and despise you for it, if you address her in such impassioned language as you did just now? She cannot be blind or insensible to the cause ; and can you think that she who is all purity, all delicacy, will bear you in her presence when she knows you love her? Think you that she will ever sanction such inimoral sentiments to be breathed in her chaste ear, and not punish your presumptuous folly, by for ever banishing you from her presence ? The ho- 196 THE FISHER S DAUGHTER. noured Duke too, wou.d she not inform him of it? Her husband too I There indeed I must pause on the enormity of your crime, and shudder at the conse- quences of it, if you continue to cherish a passion so disgraceful to yourself, and so insulting to her. For heaven's sake dear brother, run not into such foul, such unnatural error ; it is sacrilege to love that wo- man who is the wife of another ; it is breaking, it is trampling over all laws both human and divine, and you ought to exert every faculty, every nerve that reason claims, to counteract and prevent the influence of so fatal, so dangerous a passion.'' " Well, Sir," cried Wolf, who had listened to the re- proaches of Alfred with more temper than he thought himself master of, — '* Well, Sir, admitting all you have said to proceed from a motive of brotherly affec- tion—" *^ I call attesting angels to witness that it proceeds from no other," repeated Alfred, with great warmth gnd energy ; " and that my own personal happiness, my own personal interest, is entirely out of the ques- tion, although by pursuance of the crime I have stated, both our fortunes would be mined for ever. Dear Wolf be not angry, for I must speak plainly, or speak not truly, and you well know that I value truth above all other things." " Well, you have spoken plain enough," cried Wolf, with a firm undaunted tone of voice, " yet there is not one word of truth in all you have been saying, except that I love the Lady Agatha ; but that my loving her be a crime in the sight of heaven or of man, I will-deny, or that siie was another's when she innocently gave birth THE fisher's daughter. 19/ to that chaste passion, which burns so fervently, and with such holy fire, that angels might light the torch and fan the flame, without a thought unhallowed or impure; if you call this a crime, why be it so; but in my estimation it is a virtue, for it is virtuous to love that which seemeth heavenly and virtuous too, like unto the Lady Agatha. Besides, if it be a crime to love, why has nature been so unkind, to plant in the breast of her creatures that which is sinful both for the body and the soul? — tell me that Alfred. Our first father in the garden of Eden wanted this passion to make him enjoy the blessings of all created universe, and he could not be happy without it, so God gave him a beauteous creature in the semblance of woman ; and if it were sinful to love her, or to feel that spontaneous feeling for her which certainly might be called the first origin of love, why gave God this creature unto him ? Thus far I have proved that it is not sinful to love, since it was the gift of heaven unto man." " Wolf," uttered Alfred, after a serious pause, '-•! cannot resolve that question consistently, because it is far removed from the case in point. There were no others living in created space when these two beings were formed for each other ; but had there been ano- ther Adam and another Eve, would it not have been sinful for the one to have loved the second Eve, and the first Eve to have loved the second Adam ? Unless thou canst resolve me that question, I will not answer thine." " Because you cannot Alfred," retorted Wolf; ** so thou mayest as well be silent and hold thy tongue, for thou mayest preach to eternity before thou canst turn 198 THE fisher's daughter. the present days into those of the old time of Adam and Eve. The world has since that period undergone a systematic revolution, which it is not in the power of the wisest sage, or the most profound philosopher to expound the changes of." " Yet you will acknowledge that some part of my argument is just, and that it is sinful to love a woman when that woman is in the possession of anotl>er," uttered Alfred. To which Wolf replied — " No, I say it is not sinful to love the woman ; it is only sinful when you attempt to gain the possession of her through unworthy or dishonourable means ; and there lieth the sinful part, not the loving of her, be- cause the feeling, as I said before, being implanted in our nature, it is spontaneous, and cannot be resisted ; and while purity is the ofFspring of that passion, make it sinful if you can ; and this is the passion, this the love I bear towards the Lady Agatha; with life only can it end, for it is the only charm that binds me to existence, and one day Alfred you may feel the influ- ence of that charm as much as I do now." *^ But not for the same object," cried Alfred ; '' not for the same object. Heaven forbid that I should ever sigh for a forbidden woman, or that I should ever covet another man's wife." " I do not covet her, although I love her as the light of heaven, or the shining stars that bespangle the fir- mament," vociferated Wolf; *^ the breath of morn that sheds its soft dews on the fragrant flowers, or the sun that lights the roses, I love not more than the Lady Agatha ; but what of that, doth the loving her make me sinful, or that I should forget the honor of virtue THE FISHERS DAUGHTER. 199 while I u'orship its sacred shrine ? No, Alfred, I swear by the immortal Gods that — " " Hold my brother, there is but one God, why swear- est thou by many?" uttered Alfred, in a tone so im- pressive, that Wolf, restrained in his vehement expres- sion, looked for a moment awed by the reflection that it conveyed, and he felt that the argument of his bro- ther was jiist. He could acknowledge but one eter- nal Being, who ruled supreme both in heaven and on earth ; and a pause of some length ensued : at last Wolf clearing his voice, for he had been considerably agitated during this conversation, resumed his dis- course, by declaring, that the passion he felt for the Lady Agatha he would evermore be silent on. " And endeavour to subdue it by every means in your power, will not you my brother?" uttered Alfred, clasping his hands with a fervency, and uplifting his mild blue eyes to heaven, with an expression that evinced far more than language could express, the de- gree of interest he felt in the happiness and welfare of the being before him. " Yes, 1 know that you will, while my unceasing prayer shall be offered up to that throne of mercy, which ever listens to the supplication of its faith- ful votaries, that your endeavours to subdue the weak- ness of your heart may be successful; then shall I clasp my brother to my beating heart, whose every pulse throbs with anxiety but for his future happiness, and say that he has made an effort worthy of himself; and the smiles of approving conscience, like a pure unsullied fountain, will reflect a virtuous action that will translate him to the skies." " Alfred, your superior good sense has gained a vie- 200 THE fisher's daughter. tory, which I owe more to you than to any boasted resolution of my own," uttered Wolf, his eyes glisten- ing with a tear, full of genuine affection for his brother. " Nev^er shall the Lady Agatha know the dominioji she holds over my heart, and never shall that heart be be- trayed again into any weakness in her presence ; never to mortal will 1 divulge the secret, to my brother only revealed." " I am satisfied my dear brother, that you will keep this promise to me sacred," cried Alfred, clasping Wolf in a fraternal embrace. " Soon we may part, but in absence I know that Wolf will never forget this day's conversation with his Alfred ; and that although distant climes may separate us, yet they will never divide our hearts. The rough seas did not divide us ; the high Heaven gave us to each others arms ; and though the billows curled around us, the loud thunder roared, and the vivid lightning flashed between us, yet in safety we landed on the coast, where the guiding star of over- ruling Providence directed us to find protectors, and to find friends ; and O may that leading star still guide us, dear Wolf, that we may glide through our voyage i[j life, as unalloyed with care as we pass it now, with hearts as pure, and with peaceful days so blest, that hereafter we may find that peace which passetb all understanding, in the communion of saints, and the joys that reign above all earthly space, all earthly gran- deur, all earthly ambition." Suffice it to say, that from this day Wolf became a disciple of his brother Alfred, who, though young enough for a Telemachus, possessed the wisdom of a Mentor, and acted in such a capacity to his brother THE fisher's daughter. 201 Wolf; and by this beautiful interchange of thought and sentiment with each other, they improved every hour in the progress of their studies, and were acknow- ledged by their tutors to be two of the most promising young men that were ever known, for the short period they had been placed under their care ; but their talents were, according to their disposition, very opposite, that of Alfred being of the most grave and sententious kind, while that of Wolf was lively, bold, and spirited ; he had also a great propensity to literature, and actually produced some clever specimens of poetic genius, which were concealed for a length of time from the knowledge of his tutor, till Alfred smuggled one of his compositions : and it so astonished his tutor, that the very next morning he determined to submit it to the inspection of the Duke, declaring that his pupil was likely to make no smaller figure as a poet, than to shine in military exploits; at which the Duke smiled, while he exclaimed — " Then he is likely to have two beggarly professions at once ; for it is very certain that no gold grows on the soldier's laurels, and it is proverbial that none u»as ever found to grow on the poet's laurels. Any thing but a poet, good Laurence, make the boy ; for if he takes to quill-driving he will be good for nothing; do not en- courage this propensity I beg of you." " So please your Grace, it was by mere accident that I discovered it at all," replied the tutor; " it was Mr. Alfred who stole this specimen of his poetic muse, and Mr. Wolf is quite unconscious of the depredation which his brother has so cunningly made upon him ; b9 CO 202 THE fisher's daughter. but, believe me, it is no mean one, and well worthy of your attention." '* Let me have a peep at it,'' uttered his Grace, smil- ing, and putting on his spectacles ; and the tutor im- mediately placed in the Duke's hands the following lines, which the young inspired poet had entitled The Star of Liberty ; and his Grace, who in his youthful days had been an enthusiast of poetic talents, whether humble or exalted, began to read it aloud. " O that I were an Indian wild. On whom the star of freedom smiled, I'd be a fond idolater, And worship that dear brilliant star. At ease beneath the plantain shade I'd fondle with my tawny maid, To her I'd sing, and she to me, The song of love and liberty. We'd wander through the sunny vales. Shun scorching heats, or stormy gales ; Pleasantness where'er it be. Alone should tempt my love and me. The nations miscall'd civilized We'd shun, as serpent haunts despised ; Unbiass'd, merry, blest, and free. Beneath thy star, dear liberty. Though custom's slave define us rude, The sea, the woods, should render food j Our tent we'd raise where breezes haily Should tempt our steps, the woody vale." Whene'er we chose, again we'd change. Where'er we pleased in freedom range;' Kind, ardent, and serene we'd be. And sing of love and liberty. And we would snatch the fearful joy. That elevated souls can buoy ; E*en when sublimity's proud reigpa Is in the sky or on the main. THE FlSHEPvS DAUGHTER. 203 TLough Nature's feeble train retire, We'd in the awful hour admire, While still our fondest glance should be. Bent on thy star, sweet liberty. Our seat by deaf ning cataract, We'd mark the thunderbolt in act, The quaking earth, the whirlwind's sweep. The wild convulsions of the deep ; And tempest's yells, whence seem as hurl'd A fiat forth, to blast the world. That shuddering shrink ; poor atoms we, The while would bless thee, liberty. And we would have our winter cot. And we would have our summer grot. Where taste and fancy should combine, Flowers bloom, and beauty shine, Rivers run, and wild birds sing. Forest creatures dart and spring : A second Eden all should be. Beneath thy star, blest liberty No heartless master's eye should awe. And impose the despot law ; The thought ambitious neither then. Should prompt to slave our brother men. No wasting toil for niggard pay. Or purse-proud's frown to curse our day j Such hell on earth could never be, Where beamed thy star, loved liberty What though unblest by bloated priest. The God of all should bless our feast ; What though no scoundrel lawyer plan Disputes and hate 'tween man and man ; Without the legal tyger's aid. We'd sit us fearless in the shade. Of tythes, of fees, of taxes free ; All health, we'd bless thee, liberty. What though no doctor wigg'd and wise, >. Vending jargon, poison, lies. Insults us with his cold concern. Yet one would for the other yearn. 204 THE fisher's daughter. With true affection's tenderest smart, Play lover, nurse, and doctor's part, While temperance chief our leech should be. And hallow'd star of liberty. Yes, and on the flowery sod, We'd bend the knee, the heart to God j Glistening tears on glowing cheek. Our grateful-hearted love should speak. Yes, wild inspirations glow. The eye should bright, the breast should three, All soul in adoration, we Would bless the God of liberty. O yes, and with warm hearts as true ^ As Nature's children ever knew ; The earth our altar, and the sky The dome of Nature's temple high. Our garb, the robe of innocence. Our incense, groans for past offence ; From superstition's gloom yet free, As heaven's light of liberty. O that I were an Indian free. The savage sou of liberty. Far from Europe's sons of blood. The homicidal viper brood. Where men are as utensils made. Mere tools of art; where war's a trade. Religion craft ; where best is he. Who stabs the heart of liberty. Yes, blessed are the simple tribe. Custom's cant who ne'er imbibe. Right against wrong their only rule. And Nature's dictates all their schpol ; With friendship every breast endued. For mutual offices of good ; O with that mild fraternity, 'Twere Uliss to live at liberty.'* Wolf. No sooner had the Duke finished the perusal of Wolf's poeti(:al bantling, than be bestowed the meed THE fisher's daughter. 305 so justly due to the brilliant genius which, in this fine noble-spirited youth, began hourly to expand, with more beauty, energy, and sweetness; and his Grace almost breathed a wish that he had not made choice of a life so adventurous and uncertain as that of a soldier of fortune, lest the toils, perils, and hardships to which he would be necessarily exposed, might, like an unkindly frost, throw a blight upon so fair and promising a blos- som, and doom it to wither, and eventually to perish, before it could arrive to the fullest perfection. And he exclaimed — ^* Well, Lawrence, I see you are waiting with no small impatience and anxiety to hear me pronounce judgment on your young poet; but I shall do no such thing 1 assure you Lawrence, so you will certainly be disappointed in your expectations, for J don't want the boy to be a poet, when he is going to enlist under the banners of Mars ; but if we encourage him in this pro- pensity to scribbling, we shall shortly have him enlist- ing under the banners of Venus. Write poetry — write love ! — a youth of his age ! they are much the bame thing, and you know that Lawrence, you don't want to find out that secret at this time of day; so no more poetical bantlings from the pecranium of your young Wolf, I beseech you, as I don't intend to look at them, because I don't choose to sanction them ; and as it may be probable that I cannot look at them without prais- ing them, I give you my w^ord that I shall decline looking at them at all." The disappointed tutor looked excessiveW chagrined to hear the Duke make so determined a resolution, for he not only admired this poetic talent in his young fa- 206 THE FISHER^S DAUGHTER. vourite, but could see no ostensible reason that his Grace could give, why it should not meet with encou- ragement and approbation. He had given one reason, but that, in the estimation of the tutor, was absurdly ridiculous, for his pupil had discovered no traits as yet of the tender passion about him 5 and he resolved to tell his Grace so plainly, and that he also thought poe- try and love by no means on a parallel with each other. *' You were talking of poetry land love being similar things, so please your Grace," (uttered the tutor, fixing his large goggle black eyes on the Duke with a wide stare, which but for decency's sake would have ex- cited the risibility of his Grace ; for with a very lean and spare figure. Wolf's tutor, although a learned, and unquestionably a very pleasing man, resembled a pair of tongs ; for his head and his wig were of the largest dimensions, and his body and limbs of the most dimi- nutive size :) " but you must pardon me, if for once I have the temerity to dissent from your Grace's opi- nion, by venturing to declare that a man may be an ex- cellent poet, without having ever felt the influence of the belle passion. I for instance, your Grace, never was in love in the whole course of my existence, con- sequently should never encourage it in my pupil." To which his Grace smilingly replied, for he had a great respect for the little learned man — '' And how the devil Lawrence should you have the sagacity to discover a passion that you never felt, and, l)y your own confession, are altogether insensible of ? You cannot tell it by outward semblance ; love reigns in the heart, and is never so glaringly perceptible as THE fisher's daughter. 207 when it seeks concealment. Now, in that case, your pupil may be twenty fathoms deep in love, without the possibility of your being a wit the wiser for it. I do not say that he is. Heaven forbid the boy should have the euodition of love upon him, as Rosalind says in the play ; but you cannot warrant him heart-whole for the life of you, for the lines he has WTitten in his Star of Liberty betoken some signs and symptoms, which it were far beter he had not expressed ; they are inflamma- tory ; they breathe of love, although I grant that the subject is heroic." " And worthy of the heart that sent them to his head," exclaimed his tutor ; " in short, your Grace, Mr. Wolf is an extraordinary genius at his age ; and though you now object to his being a poet, yet I dare be sworn that at some future period you may yet ac- knowledge that the poet will be worthy of the man." The tutor was growing warm in the zealous regard he felt for his pupil, and the admiration of his talent, and it was a zeal with which his Grace could not be offended ; and slipping into his hand a liberal dona- tion, they parted severally, equally impressed with a favourable opinion of the rising perfections of the young Wolf." 208 THE fisher's daughter. CHAPTER IX. ** We'll never part again ! O we have years Delicious years of happiness to come ; Then let the sweet anticipation Of all those budding joys, cheat the lone hours. And shrink them into minutes. I must not have a cloud upon that brow ; Those eyes should always beam with sunny light, A tear obscures their lustre, and each drop That falls for me, inflicts a thousand wounds. By Heaven I have no eyes for any charms save thint, No sense but of thy beauty ; I cannot wish thy love less delicate. But didst thou ne'er repent the precious gift My pleadings won, nor e'er regret the vow Which gave thee to my arms ?" We certainly frequently go astray and betray our- selves into error without knowing it; wisdom sh^ws Tas the road, but the heart has a bad memory, for strength or weakness of the mind are in truth but the good or bad organization of the brain, for we are more capricious than fortune; still we find in our progress through life, that happiness is in the mind, not in the object, and that we desire what we like, not what others approve, and that our disposition or caprice gives every thing its Value. Now so little had the tutor dreamt of his young pupil being under the subordination of that THE fisher's daughter. 209 tyrannic passion, which, though gentle, holds its do- minion over the charmed senses vvith such unbounded sway, that like the torrent which rushes down a moun- tainous bank, and carries with impetuous force and head- long fury all that would impede its progress to its des- tined goal, that he had never enquired into the abstracted (its of melancholy which of late had certainly plunged Wolf into the most profound reveries. He had never observed (though his brother Alfred had) those kind- ling blushes which sometimes mounted to his cheek, and as suddenly paled his complexion on the mention of a certain object. Alfred could tell the cause of his brother's w^arm -breathed sighs, if a certain lovely form by chance came by the windows of the apartment which was consecrated to their studies, and which, opening on a fine pleasure ground and beautiful exten- sive plantation, was frequently visited by the company, who were in the habit of being invited to Violet Vale ; and often Lord Montague Montault and his beauteous Lady could be seen from the windo^vs of this apartment, strolling together through the lovely and romantic shades of the plantation; Lady Agatha leaning on his arm, while his lordship seemed in earnest contem- plation of her beautiful features. It was then that the blood of Wolf would rush to his face in crimson hues, his heart beat tumultuously, and his eyes float in liquid moisture ; and he would suddenly quit the room, on pretence of a violent pressure on his brain, or spasm in his side, the source of which were by no means unde- finable to Alfred, although completely unintelligible to Mr. Mark Lawrence, who never having been even in his youthful days (and he had now advanced to that season c 9 D D 210 THE fisher's daughter. when the heyday of the blood is over) susceptible of the power of the little blind deity who rules over hearts, was quite incapable of judging of those external symptoms with which patients languishing under the disease are generally affected ; for he had often de- clared in some of his jocular fits, (when he sat down to dinner with the young gentlemen, in company with Doctor Syntax, who was a poor but clever son of genius, engaged by his Grace the Duke of Braganza to superintend, though not exactly serving in the capacity of tutor, on the studies of Alfred,) that he would much rather encounter a mad dog, than a woman, towards whom he always felt a most invincible dislike. " You don't say so Mr. Lawrence," cried the Doctor, staring with the most profound astonishment on the little learned man, and looking incredulously at him at the same moment. *' But I do say so Doctor Syntax," exclaimed the tutor ; " and I will maintain my opinion, that a woman is one of the most mischievous animals in crea- tion, and that they do more mischief than any animal in creation. I never saw but one that I could at all tolerate, and that is only since I became an inmate in this noble mansion." " Oh there is little doubt of where your allusion points," uttered the Doctor, "she is indeed a nonpa- reil of a woman, the ne plus ultra of all that a man could wish for or desire. In form a Venus, in wisdom a Pallas, in dignity a Juno, and in chastity a Diana ; in short, the lady of Lord Montague Montault is altogether (taking the tout ensemble of the bewitch- THE fisher's daughter. 211 ing graces that adorn her beaut ifiil person, and the charms of her more perfect and accomplished mind) an angel on earth, and that is going as high as (nortal praise can reach." " And much higher than you ought ; excuse me doc- tor," uttered the tutor ; "for although the Lady Aga- tha far exceeds the race of that frail and trifling sex, yet I hold it profanation to call her angel." " The expression was merely metaphorical, Sir," cried the doctor, " and there is no profanity in giving beings that seem heavenly in virtue angelic titles, any more than it is wicked to call those devils or de- mons whose actions are devilish, and whose principles are demoniac." It was during this conversation between the learned men that Wolf betrayed the most restless agitation, while his complexion varied alternately from red to pale, from the very moment that the Lady Agatha be- came the theme of discourse, and which at last was so perceptible to the eyes of the tutor, that, looking at him with some involuntary surprise, he exclaimed — " Bless me Mr. Wolf, how you change colour; there is nothing of indisposition I ho])e that occasions it." To which W^oif, in the utmost confusion, and endea- vouring to recover his self-possession, replied — " None in the least ; I never enjoyed better health than 1 do at this present moment, I thank you Sir.'* " And yet your countenance contradicts your asser- tion ]\lr. Wolf," uttered the tutor. " No matter, Sir, I am perfectly well I assure you,* cried Wolf, a little petulantly; " nor is the counte- nance always an index of internal feelings." 212 THE kfsher's daughter. *' Oh bless my soul, to be sure it is not," uttered the tutor, '' for if it were, many a rogue would be taken for an honest man, that would turn out to be the most infernal rascal in existence. No — no, Mr. Wolf, your observation is right, most incontestibly right in this particular; the human countenance is the most deceptive thing in nature." The cloth was now removed, and some wine and fruit placed on the table; of the form.er the young gentlemen partook but moderately, it being a luxury intended more to gratify the taste of the tutors than an indulgence for the pupils; but the health of the noble family of Braganza and Montault being drank in a full bumper by Doctor Syntax, both Wolf and Alfred most heartily joined, and good humour and harmony were restored for the remainder of the evening. Still they were not yet removed from the house of their protector at Herring Dale, who often made many enquiries of his adopted sons after the health of the Lady Agatha, and of the reception they met with at Violet Vale. " And pray lads, be you happier than you were nine months ago in the house of Peter Blust, when Jessy and Olive were frisking about for all the world like two young lambs by your side, and that dear little angel, when she was Agatha Singleton, used to sit down to the harpsichord, and play over the thingum- bobs with her pretty little white taper fingers of a winter's evening, till she used to gladden all around her? and then her voice, which was sweeter than a lark's or a nightingale's — do you remember lads how it used to charm us ? But there — she is gone now, so its no use to think of it, she must tune her pipes to a THE fisher's daugktkr 213 tlifFerent soug now ; and if it was not for that affair of affronting my Jessy, I'd just go and take a peep at her pretty face. Do she look as smiling and as good na- tured as ever though, lads ?" No response was made by Wolf to these interroga- tories of his protector, except that a deep sigh issued from liis over-charged heart, as if it would break to bursting, which reaching the ear oi the fisher Blast, as well as the glance he caught of the melancholy expres- sion which stole over his features, he exclaimed — *' Why, shiver my topsails lad, the sooner thee be- come a fighting man and go to the wars, the better ; and a nod's as good as a wink to a blind horse. Why thee be all manner of the colours of the rainbow, only just because I axed a few questions about our dear little Agatha Singleton, and I see thou canst not stand it. You're clean gone as a whistle with love for another man's wife, and I be ashamed of thee. I be quite ashamed of thee ; thee hast no business to han- ker after another man's goods, as the saying is." The climax of poor Wolf's mortification was now complete; and totally unable to answer one word in justification of the charge which had been imputed to him by his protector, he threw a supplicating look to- wards Alfred, who instantly broke the ice for him by exclaiming — " Indeed, Sir, you wrong my brother Wolf by such a supposition." " Yes, indeed you do Sir," now tremulously faulter- ed out Wolf. " I call heaven to witness that I never once harboured a thought injurious to the purity of that angelic woman, or discredit«ible to myself," 214 THE fisher's daughter. " You may call heaven or the other place as loud as can bawl, and as long as you please, master Wolf," said Peter ; " but when you tell me that you don't love Montague's wife, you may as well tell it to the marines, for that cock won't fight with an old sailor. I say you are ten fathoms deep in something, call it what you please ; and as for you, master Alfred, you had better hold your tongue and say nothing about it, for shiver my topsails if you don't make bad worse. But come lad, don't be cast down, for nobody will be the wiser, if you don't let the cat out of the bag your- self. So I'll give you a bit of advice, and perhaps you may give it a turn over in your mind when you come to argufy the topic by yourself; and that is, never to hanker after forbidden fruit ; remember it was the first bitter fruit to man that he ever tasted of, and we have had the flavour of it in our mouths ever since. I shall say no more, because I see that it do grieve thee, lad." '* Grieve me. Sir!" uttered Wolf, at once recover- ing that intrepidity of look, which in earlier days had so remarkably distinguished him. " Yes, Sir, better you had stabbed me to the heart, than wound me so deeply by your ungenerous suspicions, which you shall never have occasion to repeat to me again; fur from this hour 1 never will mention the name of Lady Agatha. I never have, to my knowledge, with impropriety ; and as to my coveting the treasure that is in the possession of another, may I be eternally deserted of Providence, if ever so base a thought found an entrance to my breast. No, Sir, I will send up to Heaven an oath ere this night's sleep seal my eyes, and I will keep that oath sacred ; whatever of good or evil may betide the 215 fate of Wolf, he will never live disgraced in the opi- nion of his protector, whom more than life he values. Forgive this involuntary warmth, Sir, but you have drawn from me the bitterest tear I ever shed ; it has fallen, but with it I rise; it vvill be the leading star of my fortune, and in all the wanderings of Wolf, he will remember the charmed talisman that accompanied the reproach that I merited not, and that I will not merit long, for I would perish ere I would be the evil thing you think me." " Forgive you ?" uttered the fisher, whose asperity was now exchanged for the most glowing admiration, for the nobleness of sentiment and character that this fine spirited youth had displayed, and whose petulance was now completely subdued. "Forgive you? shiver my topsails if ever I shall forgive Peter Blust for the uncivil words he said to thee just now, as long as he do breathe. But I say lad, it were all for the best, thee to shame, to the reproaches of an incensed father arid jealous husband. Be firm as heaven formed you to be ; let not passion rob you of your senses. Give me the picture, ^he fatal resemblance of beauty never destined to be yours ; the semblance also of a child, the father of which is Lord Montague Montault, the husband of the Lady Agatha. How does that sound in the ear of Wolf? The picture,--the picture^ — ere the caution 1 now give you be too late." Poor Alfred in the fervour of his strong affection for his brother, and the fear of the fatal consequences that might ensue, if the picture should be discovered even by their tutors, the wildfire of which would instantly be spread over the whole house, and both him and Wolf be consumed in the general conflagration, became every moment more susceptible of the appre- hensions he had formed, more agitated, and more ur- gent that Wolf would listen to his supplications, and place the picture in his care; while Wolf, on the other hand, was as obstinately inclined on retaining it in his possession, and exclaimed, though with a less degree of petulance than before — ^* Wliercfore should I part with the work of so much THE fisher's daughter. 257 toil and so much pleasure ? Why should I relinquish the happiness of beholding it, merely to satisfy your caprice, brother Alfred ? and you choose to fill your head with idle prophecies ; who made you a prophet, pray ?" To which Alfred gravely replied — " I am no prophet. Wolf, I never said I was ; heaven forbid I should utter such im.piety. But although 1 am no prophet, I have uttered some truths which you cannot turn aside from, though you affect to deny their existence ; but do as thou wilt, henceforth I shall learn to be silent, rather than offend you by any anxious fears I may express for your safety and personal happi- ness. Keep then this so fatally loved resemblance of the daughter of our august patron, and the lady of Lord Montague IMontault ; but while you retain it in your possession, whether I am prophet or no prophet, I shall never cease to cherish fears that will make me miserable, when I reflect that, although affection prompted them, they were alike treated with indiffer- ence and contempt by my brother." The feelings of Wolf during this speech of the af- fectionate Alfred were powerfully affected, and he felt conviction and love throb for him in his heart both at the same moment. He knew that he had not a more sincere friend in existence than his brother Alfred, and could not confute his arguments, with respect to the beloved picture of Lady Agatha and her child ; and after some little hesitation, confessed the impropriety with which he had been reproached, and opening his vest, he bade Alfred take the picture from his bosom, where he had carefully concealed it, which request was most joyfully complied with by the now delighted Al- t' 11 K K 258 THE FISHEll*S DAUGHTER. fred, who did not leave his beloved brother a moment to repent of the resolution he had now made, for he ran to a cabinet in which he kept his own private pa- pers and memorandums, and very quickly deposited his treasure there : he then returned to Wolf, who having averted his eyes from the picture as soon as he had resolved to part with it, was now in utter ignorance of the place of its concealment, and Alfred was by no means solicitous to inform him of it ; but clasping him to his breast with redoubled kindness, confidence, and affection, assured him that he should ever remember this strong testimony of a brother's love, as also of this triumph of virtue. ** Nay, dear Alfred, you must give me as little credit for that as possible," uttered Wolf, smiling, " but much for the most sincere affection that 1 bear my brother ; and yet were that boundless as the ocean, it would not be greater than he deserves." It was some few days after this conversation, and the incident of the picture, that Wolf encountered the scene in the nursery with the Marchioness and Lord Montague Montault, and had reason to congratulate himself on his lucky escape, from being detected with the picture of Lady Agatha in his possession ; for his port-folio w^as certainly lying on the table, and the name of Wolf being on the outside, the Marchioness immediately pointed it out to the observation of her son, just at the critical moment that his lordship was drawing conclusions very much in favour of the fine spirited youth, his severity towards whom he not only repented, but was actually ashamed of. But this dis- position to poor unfriended Wolf was not long encou- THE fisher's daughter. 259 raged by the Marchioness, who darting her lynx and jealous eyes on the port-folio, exclaimed, with the fiend-like expression of a malignant fury — " Well, I protest I never heard of such unparalleled assurance in the whole course of my existence, to bring his port-folio into the very nursery, where he sits whole hours, I suppose employed in taking sketches from nature, of a living Venus, with her little Cupid, in the form of Lady Agatha and her in- fant son. A prodigious pleasant amusement, I must confess, for a young fellow of eighteen ; he is just of the inflammatory age, when the least spark is fanned into a flame, as furious as those burning on Mount j3Etna. And is it possible, Montague, that you are going to tolerate such liberties ? What business has he to make a drawing-room of an apartment, sacred only to the nurse and the mother of your infant son? Merciful heaven ! what would the world say of a husband who would permit a young man to enter his wife's study, or dressing-room, or any other private part of the house to copy his drawings ? and perhaps Lady Agatha, — I do not say that she has, don't take my mean- ing wrong Montague, or be so uncommonly agitated. I don't say that Agatha would be guilty of so great a piece of indecorum, as to sit for her picture to this young Wolf. No — no, your wife has too delicate a sense of propriety ; but notwithstanding he has no right to intrude himself into her presence when you are absent ; and I also affirm, that when husbands have such pretty wives as you have, they should be on their guard, that is all ; not that I would wish to insinuate ought against your wife, heaven forbid." 260 THE fisher's daughter. The mischief was now done, and not all the waters that flowed from the streams of Lethe could allay the burning fever of distempered jealousy that the Mar- chioness had awakened in the breast of her son. The torch was now lighted, where before the fuel was but barely laid on, and nothing could quench it. Lord Montague paced the room with a wild, flushed, and disordered step, and with a burning cheek, from the effects of the raging fire which his mother had kindled there ; yet he was solicitous to conceal it not only from her, but from all human beings beside, and that not a reproach should be cast upon the conduct of his spot- less wife 5 and indignantly he exclaimed — " Insinuate aught against my Agatha ! No, mother, you dare not ; for, by holy Paul, she is as chaste and as immaculate as the breath of angels. I would not live another moment if I believed her otherwise; and as to the fooMsh thought you have taken into your head about the young man drawing pictures in the nursery, it is idle folly; for were I certain thai he presumed to take such a liberty, or Agatha to suffer it, by the eter- nal power that rules created universe, I would pul- verize the reptile into atoms, and Agatha should feel the vengeance of a fond, deceived, yet still doating husband. But tush — tush ! it is madness to cherish such a thought. Mother — mother, why — why did you put such a thought into my head ? Leave me. " Leave you Montague, and in such a disposition towards your mother, in anger I" uttered the Marchio- ness, affecting to be deeply hurt by his reproaches. '* No, I am your mother, and I will not be command- ed from your presence in this unkind way." THE fisher's daughter. 261 " Retract then your cruel and ungenerous senti- ments of my angel Agatha," uttered Lord Montague, feeling only that he was a husband and a father at the present moment. *^ Breathe not one murmur against her, if you wish me mother to be on terms of peace with you, and heaven knows I do. I have ever loved you with the most duteous affection, but I should cease to love that parent, however strong my love, or impe- rative my duty, who would seek to plant thorns in the bosom of a doating husband, by infusing into his mind a suspicion of a faultless and angelic wife." It was now the turn of the crafty and insidious Mar- chioness to endure a little of the pain she had inflicted on the heart of her son, with w^hom she perceived she had gone a step too far; and that his confidence in his wife's propriety of conduct was not easily to be shaken ; and that although he was jealous of every object who approached her, yet it was not exclusively of one, for his jealousy was excited more by the admiration which her uncommon loveliness of person drew forth, than the slightest doubt of her unsullied purity or her true affection for him. The Marchioness was therefore, like an experienced general, obliged to retreat, when victory was not likely to be the result of her plans ; and she knew well how to play her cards with her darling Montague, whom with tears, and afterwards with the most fascinating smiles, she contrived to coax into a good humour be- fore she quitted Violet Vale. And being informed that Lady Agatha was gone on a charitable visit of condolence to a sick neighbour, her ladyship tiought proper to enquire no further, sus- 262 THE FISHER*S DAUGHTER. pecting that it was the daughter of Mr. Blust, Mrs. Russel, who had that morning been delivered of a fine little girl, that was the object of Lady Agatha's atten- tion : and so it was, Jessy had been indisposed for more than a week, and Agatha sent each successive day, with the most affectionate messages, to enquire after the health of her still respected and beloved friend ; and at length Wolf and Alfred were the bearers of the happy news, that Mrs. Russel was not only out of danger, but was the mother of a little girl ; and Aga- tha could not then resist her impatient anxiety to be- hold her dear Jessy, since she was now in a situation to communicate and to participate in all her feelings, both in the character of a wife and a mother. Besides, the period was now arrived, when it was necessary for her to have some private conversation with Mrs. Russel, on the subject of her dear foster father's dying request, that if the child of Jessy should be a daughter, it should be called Matilda, in compliment to the Lady St. Clair; and Agatha having communicated this to Lord Montague, immediately obtained permission of him to visit Jessy and the little stranger, who had that morning found its way into a wide world. And no sooner had Agatha gained permission of his lordship to visit her beloved friend, than the carriage was imme- diately ordered, with a basket, which contained the greatest delicacies that the season afforded ; and with- out waiting to make the slighest addition to her morn- ing dress, save a white veil and a close straw bonnet, she desired the coachman to drive to the habitation of Mr. Samuel Russel, having snatched a kiss of her lovely boy as it lay sleeping ij:i the arms of its nurse. THE fisher's daughter. 263 As the carriage approached to the residence of her beloved Jessy, the affectionate heart of Agatha bounded with the most pleasurable sensations, little dreaming that sensations of a far less pleasing kind had taken pos- session of the heart of her lord and husband, during the short interval of her absence from Violet Vale, and that a serpent had crept into the bosom of her domestic joys, to blast her happiness for ever. Little dreamt she as she drove along, with spirits light and buoyant as gale of summer's gentle breath, with peace the inmate of her lovely breast, that a dagger was aiming at it by an unseen hand, to tear its fibres asunder by the sharpest pang that can be inflicted on woman's faithful heart, through that of her husband; and that by a mother, or one who called herself so, though a better title had been that of monster in a human shape. No, the unconscious Agatha dreamt not of all these hidden woes, but with a light step and light heart, she descended from her carriage, which made some little bustle, when it stopped at the gates of Mrs. Russel's beautiful, sequestered, and peaceful dwelling. Now it so happened that the fisher Blust, (whose anxious fears for his beloved daughter had been mani- fested for the last few days, in a manner that was truly natural and affecting to those who well knew the excellence of his warm and generous heart, whenever occasion called for a trial of its sensibility,) was at the house of his son-in-law when Agatha arrived ; for he had been so overcome with joy when Jessy's danger was over, and he was informed that she had made him a present of a little granddaughter, that he swore he would not budge an inch till he had given a hearty 264 THE fisher's daughter. smack to both the mother and the baby, and that he should then stay and spend the remainder of the day with Sam. ^^ Though, shiver my topsails, I am mortally vext it bean t a boy," uttered he, squatting himself down in a large easy chair by the side of the old nurse, after she had shewn him the infant ; " but no matter, it be the very picture of my Jessy, and that be enough for its old grandfather. She be a bouncer too, and that be better still, for none of my children was any of your skinny ones, with not so much as one ounce of flesh on their bones, nor a drop of blood in their veins ; but this little toad be as round and as plump as a partridge. Shiver my topsails she be of the true Blust breed. God bless her." And again bidding his beloved daughter adieu for the present, Peter was at last induced to quit the apart- ment which contained all he held dear in existence ; and he had not been many minutes with his son-in-law below in the parlour, before the carriage of Lady Aga- tha Montault drove up to the door, to the no small surprise and astonishment of both the parties. " Why here be my dear little Agatha, as I am a living soul, come to see my Jessy. Shiver my top- sails, I don't know whether I be standing on my head or my heels, the sight of her do warm the cockles of my heart so. Now Sam, do mind how thee behave ; thee be married to my Jessy now thee do know, and grapes be sour." At this moment Mr. Russel sprang from his seat and flew to the gates. " I hope I have the honour of seeing your ladyship well," uttered Sam, in a sort of tremulous agitation, THE fisher's daughter. 265 and which he could not wholly shake off, as she ex- tended her hand, with a smile of the most fascinating sweetness towards him, and he assisted her out of the carriage. '^ And how is our beloved Jessy ?'* was expressed by a look that spoke more than volumes could have uttered, as she made her entrance to the apartment where the fisher had bundled himself behind a large screen, to indulge the whimsicality of his humour on this occasion ; but no sooner did he hear Agatha en- quire after him, than out he bolted from his hiding- place, and without ceremony, boldly snatched a kiss of the roseate lips which had just repeated his name. '' Shiver my topsails, how glad I be to see thee, my dear — Ladyship J suppose I must say?" cried the fisher, laughing; and to which Agatha immediately replied — '^ Indeed you must not suppose any such thing, my dear sir. Call me what you please, so long as you do not call me ungrateful for past kindness ; and that you will believe, that to you I must be always the same, whether I am Agatha Sir>gleton or Agatha Montault. Titles may alter names, but they ought never to change the heart. A long absence has intervened since 1 be- held you last ; but could I forget the hand that once sheltered me from the chilling blast, with the sunny rays of friendship and hospitality, 1 should now be unworthy of the blessings that providence bestows. There was an air of the most bewitching candour and sensibility which shone in the radiant and lovely countenance of Agatha, as she addressed this speech to her former kind protector, that could not admit the a 12 L L 266 THE fisher's daughter slightest doubt of her sincerity, ann wnicn immediately occasioned a glistening tear to stand in the eyes of honest Peter; and he vociferated, hastily brushing it away — " Shiver my topsails if thee be'st not the same sweet- tempered warm-hearted little soul as ever, though thee be. married to a great lord; but if thee had married somebody else instead of Montague, I do think that thee would have been quite as happy, thee be so con- tented." '' Yes, sir, a cottage or a palace, where peace was the inmate of its walls, would have made but little dif- ference to Agatha; but I must see dear Jessy, if you please Mr. Russel," cried Agatha, perceiving that the remark made by Peter did not lessen the confusion with which he had frequently addressed her, and wish- ing to change the subject as quick as possible, she ad- verted to her own situation, with respect to her also having become a happy mother. " My sweet fellow grows surprisingly," uttered she, turning her eyes on the fisher, with a look of a mo- ther's fond and delighted expression. ^^ You have never seen him, my dear sir?'* " Why how the devil should I?" answered the fisher, apparently piqued at the thought of some slight having been shewn him by Lord Montague. " You never was civil enough to invite me, did you ? nor your husband neither? I was not grand and great; and do you suppose I was going to poke my nose where I was not welcome ? No — no, Agatha, you know old Peter Blust better." ■ *' My dear sir, this reproach is indeed unkind, after THE fisher's daughter. 267 what I have before told you," cried Agatha. ** You and my sweet Jessy were ever welcome to me; but after my marriage with Lord IMontague Montault, I passed a great deal of my time in the circle of ac- tjuaintaiice which my father had selected for me. My father, too, my new found father, was anxious to intro- duce me to that great world, of which I had seen so little when I was the reputed daughter of Captain Singleton ; and if, in obedience to a husband's and father's commands, f acquiesced, can you in justice condemn me ? No, I am certain you will not, when you consider how natural, how sacred, nay, how im- perative are the ties I have mentioned." So saying, Agatha preceded Mr. Russel to the .chamber of Jessy, who was already apprised by the nurse of the arrival of Lady Montague Montault; and a meet- ing between the two so strongly attached friends took place, of the most tender and affecting kind ; but Aga- tha spoke in soft whispers, and would not permit Jessy to indulge in much conversation, promising that her visit should be repeated the earliest opportunity, as she had something of the most interesting nature to com- municate to her. The infant was now by desire of her ladyship placed on her lap, and Agatha gazed on the face of the sweet innocent, with undescribable emo- tions of love and tenderness. " Why, my dear Jessy, do you not see a resemblance in the infant, peculiarly striking of your sister OHve?" exclaimed Agatha, " only that it has your dimpled chin and pretty mouth ; but her eyes are black, and the acquiline nose just formed like poor Olive's.- How exquisitely beautiful this little creature will be. Jessy, 26b THE fisher's daughter. 1 will bring my boy with me in the carriage when I come to see you again ; he is a fine healthy child, but I must own that little moppet has the advantage of Orlando in beauty." ^' And many other advantages, my dear Agatha," softly whispered Jessy, gazing on her pretty babe. " Ah you must not teach the son of Lord Montague Montault to look at a Fisher's Daughter." Agatha looked at Jessy, and Jessy looked at Agatha, but neither of them immediately uttered a sentence. It was probable, however, that the same thought pos- sessed the young mothers at this precise moment; and very soon after, Agatha kissing the little miniature of Olive, and the cheek of her beloved friend, returned to Violet Vale, just time enough to dress for a late dinner, biit in such an exhilaration of spirits, that on her entrance to the drawing-room, the uncommon ro- seate tint of her complexion, and the brilliancy of her eyes, drew the attention both of her father and hejr husband towards her. Now there is sometimes a combination of mere in- cident, chance, or accident, which have no cause for their uniting together, except we suspect a cause, and then we take it for granted that the whole is the effect of design, and thus the most injurious suspicions are formed, and the most erroneous opinions grounded on the probability of mere conjecture. Now as affairs stood at Violet Vale with a certain Lord, who had more than half imbibed a certain sen timent, that never suffers its destined victim to rest, when once it has sucked in a portion of its poisonous breath, it was most unfortunate that Wolf should cojne THE fisher's daughter. 269 in contact with his beauteous lady on the grand stair- case, which led to the entrance of the drawing room, the door of which was as unfortunately half open; and both the eyes and the ears of Lord Montague were di- rected to that quarter, on hearing the dulcet voice of his lovely wife exclaim, on thus suddenly encountering Wolf— " O Wolf, I am just returned from seeing dear Jessy and her infant daughter, and you cannot conceive any thing half so beautiful as her little sweet girl ; and do you know Wolf, that it is the very image of poor Olive kust." All this had been uttered by Agatha in a tone of such artless simplicity, and without scarcely looking at the object to whom she was addressing herself, that no mortal being in their sober senses could have ima- gined that this meeting could either have been sought after or expected. But had Lady Agatha been con- scious of what had been passing in her absence, she would have avoided speaking to Wolf under any cir- cumstances whatever, as he was now as tenacious of beholding her; and unable to account for the deep blush which now mantled on his cheek, and the impenetrable silence which he observed, she in- nocently tapped him on the shoulder as he eagerly passed by her, with " Why Wolf, you don't seem ioterestcd at all about dear Jessy and the Fisher's Daughter." '' Pardon me your ladyship," cried Wolf, now pass- ing her, and respectfully bowing, *^ but I was not then either thinking of Jessy or the Fisher's Daughter, when 2j0 THE fisher's daughter. subjects far more essentially necessary to my happiness occupy my mind, and till it with sensations of unutter- able anguish and despair." This concluding sentence was uttered in so smother- ed a tone, that it was a moral impossibility for Lord Montague distinctly to catch the sound which had been sufficiently intelligible to his lovely wife; and Wolf having completely made his exit, Agatha entered the drawing-room with a hurried step, and certainly a flushed and roseate cheek. The Duke was sitting on an ottoman, with a paper of the day in his hand ; Lord Montague was pacing the room with an apparent air of easy 7ionchale7ice ; but it was evident from the expression of his lordship's countenance that something unusual had baffled the even temperature of his mild and cer- tainly placid sweetness of dispo&iton, and instead of looking at Agatha as she approached him, he pretend- ed to be looking at his watch. "My love, did you not think me long?" uttered Agatha, having first paid her duty to her father; " but I have been so pleasantly engaged, that I did not think of counting time, positively, till T heard the clock strike four, and then I hurried home, fearful that I might have kept you waiting. Well, do you know that Jessy's child is a perfect beauty. You have seen Olive Blust, Montague, she is the picture of her, with all the light shades of Jessy's countenance. Why, my love, how grave and sombre you look." The Duke now threw an oblique glance at his ne- phew, who still assumed an air of apathy towards his lovely wife, and exclaimed — THE fisher's daughter. 271 " So I have been telling him, my love, for two hours before you came in." *' And yet I left my dear lord in most excellent spi- rits/' uttered Agatha, not once suspecting the cause of Lord Montague's dejection ; " but 1 dare say he has been tormented the whole morning with visitors ; and when a woman is out of the way, it is excessively awkward. Was not this the case, Montague ?" Lord Montague, who had never yet raised his eyes to his lovely wife, was still sedulous to conceal the horrible passion by which he was inflamed from the observation of the Duke, nor did he ever doubt of the purity of the spotless being before him ; still he was madly jealous of her, and the attractions of such a youth as Wolf he considered dangerous beneath his roof. Why had he intruded himself on the presence of Lady Agatha at the entrance of the drawing-room ? and though he had heard nothing but the most artless expressions from her lips, yet he had much rather she had not spoken to him at all. Still he was unwilling to discover the slightest mark of disapprobation at her conduct, and now endea\oured to conceal it by every effort that was possible, assuming an air of gaiety that was extremely foreign to his feelings, and exclaimed, while he tapped her fair cheek with a playful badinage, "And so you think, because your ladyship happened to be absent, that I was not polished sufficiently to entertain your female visitors. There's an attack, your Grace, upon my parts of speech ; hut the fact was, I had no opportunity of displaying my powers of attrac- tion, for the only female visitor I have had this morn- ing has been my mother." 272 THE FISHER*S DAUGHTER. " Who of all Other personages I have alwa3rs been so unfortunate as to find it a difficult matter to please/* uttered Agatha, gravely; for she instantly surmised that jthe observations of the Marchioness on her hav- ing obtained permission of her husband to visit the daughter of Mr. Blust, had not been much in her fa- vour, and that she would have prevented any commu- nication taking place with her and the fisher's family, had there been a possibility of succeeding with her son in this malicious intention. Agatha coloured deeply, and her husband looked at her with an air of embav- rassment he could not wholly conceal, conscious what illiberal remarks the Marchioness had made in her ab- sence, and how warmly he had defended her. By no means wishing that she should receive this impression, however, he smiled and exclaimed — ^' It is of little consequence whom my Agatha pleases, while her husband acknowledges her power of pleasing him." ^* My dear lord, it has ever been my study to do that &ince I have been your wife," uttered Agatha, with a smile of the most resistless fascination ; and Lord Montague feeling its potent influence, felt also how impossible it was for his confidence in her unchanging love and fidelity towards him ever to be shaken ; and again he exerted every faculty to crush that demon jealousy, which, without cause, had entwined itself about his heart, and bewildered his imagination, only to aim a blow at his domestic peace, to undermine his happiness for ever. " Upon my word, good folks," ,uttered his Grace,; smiling, while you are paying such compliments to THE fisher's daughter. 2^3 each other, you forget there is a third person present, who is not a little interested in the business. Well, my love, you were giving us an account of the Fisher's Daughter. And what says honest Peter to this addi- tion being made to his family?" " O he is quite disappointed, because it does not happen to be a boy," answered Agatha. ** I surmised as much," observed his Grace. " The female part of the creation is not much suited to his taste. He is avowedly the most singular character in existence, and the most amusing, while the warmth of his heart is an ample atonement for the defects of his education. I am pleased with his jocularity whenever I see him ; and his plain way of sailing, as he calls it, is actually worthy of the imitation of those who, though sailing in a higher sphere, have hot half the virtues of honest Peter to recommend them. By the bye, 1 must very shortly have some conversation with Mr. Blust, on the subject of his adopted sons Alfred and Wolf, who have actually made such considerable progress in their studies, that they will very soon be ready for the professions they have made choice of. I have already a situation provided for Wolf, and one in serious contemplation for Alfred. I wrote to my friend General St. Montalbino, who is now commander-in- chief of the forces at Sardinia, and he will forward the interest of our young soldier as soon as a second en- campment takes place; and I have no doubt of the ability or enterprize with which Wolf will begin his military career. I have seldom beheld a youth of such fine promise, with so manly and vigorous a mind ; he seems formed indeed for martial exploits ; a young b 12 MM ^74 THE fisher's daughter, Norval in reality, without requiring dramatic aid to set him off." *' Have you seen Wolf's last drawing, my dear fa- ther ?" cried Agatha, whose cheeks glowed with a colour of the brightest carnation, at hearing these praises of her favourite resounded by his patron. " Have you really seen the head of the Magdalen and the Madona? They are exquisitely fine, and admir- ably coloured, though it was by mere accident that I obtained a sight of them ; for do you know that Wolf nas ever been solicitous to conceal his perfections, rather than recommend them to observation." " Which mark of diffidence is most incontestably a proof of his being possessed of ability," uttered his Grace. " Talent is a gem that can very rarely be hidden ; and never shines with such resplendent lus- tre, as when it is accompanied with modesty in those who wear it in their cap. Butvvheie will you find this gem sparide in assumption,- ignorance, pride, envy, meanness, or the mercenary knave ? Never in these can the modest flower of native genius rear its lovely head." " Well, my love, proceed. How did you gain a sight of this young man's drawings, on which you are pleased to bestow so much commendation?" demand- ed Lord Montague, with an air of the most assumed indifference, though he was suffering the most impa- tient anxiety, which he could scarcely conceal. To which Agatha instantly replied, without the slightest hesitation or alteration of countenance, and with the greatest simplicity — < " In the nursery this very morning, my dear lord ; THK fisher's daughter. 2'Jb but it was not the hand of ^^'olf who brought them there. They were taken by stealth out of the study by his tutor, Mr. Lawrence^ who deHghted with the finished performance of so you-ng an artist, positively came running up to me with the port-folio in his hand, and begged permission to shew them to me. They re- mauied in the nursery when I went out, and if you like to see them, I will send Beda to tell Lawrence to bring them here." " No, my love, I will take another op[)ortunity of witnessing this young man's exhibition," and Lord Montague, with an indescribable weight removed from his heart by this intelligence, and feeling a sense of shame and remorse for the ungenerous sentiment he had so falsely cherished, not only against his lovely wife, but poor Wolf, and which it was certain his mother had been the cause of, determined never to listen to her again on so dangerous a subject. But what reparation could he make to this high-spirited and noble young man, for the rudeness he had been guilty of that morning in the nursery? He had forbid- den him ever to enter it again, on mere suspieion that he went thither to intrude himself into the presence of Lady Agatha, more than to caress the infant ; and it now appeared very far otherwise from the manner of Agatha, and he could not doubt the truth of what those Jovely lips had uttered. In what an absurd light then must he appear to the young man to whom he had discovered his jealous fears ! how ridiculous his conduct I and if the youth were really vain of his accomplishments, how greatly had he 2/0 THE fishkr's daughter. contributed to heighten his, youthful vanity, by making him suppose that he could be an object of attraction to such a woman as Lady Agatha; in short, Lord Mon- tague had so much more reason to feel disatisfied with his own conduct than that of others, that it occasioned him to experience the most uncomfortable sensations during the whole time at dinner; and his endeavours to force into his countenance a gaiety that was foreign to his heart, only rendered it more perceptible in the eyes of the Duke, who, having pushed about the wine with very little success after Lady Agatha had with- drawn, at length exclaimed — ** Why, Montague, what on earth is the matter with you ? You have really taken a dose of the vapours, or a fit of the blue devils, from which not even the en- livening powers of Champaign can arouse you. Come if you wont drink, you positively shall talk, for 1 am not going to sit here with one of Pigmallions statues. Suppose we send for the youths Alfred and Wolf to take a glass of wine with us; they merit encourage- ment. Have you any objection to this proposal r" The countenance of Lord Montague brightened into something like vivacity, for here was now an opportu- nity of reconciling himself to the justly offended Wolf, without condescending to offer him an apology, which he had more than once thought of as he sat at dinner ; tmd the proposal of the Duke was most cordially as- sented to by his lordship, who rung the bell for an attendant to go to the apartment of the doctor, and say that it was the request of his Grace the Duke of Bra- ganza that Mr. Wolf and Alfred should attend him ; THE fisher's daughter. 2/7 and that if the. doctor and Mr. Lawrence would ac- company the young gentlemen, they would be glad of their company. "Am I encroaching on your Grace's kindness, by giv- ing an invitation to the tutors as well as their pupils ?" uttered Lord Montague. To which the Duke imme- diately replied — " I hope Montague you know his Grace better than once to suspect me of such ungenerous, nay unmanly prejudice, that because I have got a ducal coronet I think every man beneath me. I should utterly despise wealth, were it always to be accompanied with such paltry notions ! A man of education, a man of talent, is at all times a fit companion for a Duke. Must we not follow the example of our gracious sove- reign George the Fourth ? When has he not awarded and admired talent, and encouraged its success ? How many of his majesty's present subjects could we now instance, that the emanation of bis genial smile of pa- tronage has not, from the withering blast of chilling obscurity, transplanted to the sunny ray of fortune's favours, and the estimation of the public ? Tell me when the meed due to merit has ever been denied by ©ur beloved Sovereign, or the supplication of the un- fortunate ever been rejected ?" " I most cordially admit the truth of your Grace's observation," replied Lord Montague; and more wine, with some delicious fruit being placed on the table, in a few minutes Dr. Syntax made his entrance with a profound bow, and ushering in hi« mode!?t, retiring, and blushing pupil Alfred. An enquiry being made for their companions, the doctor was under the neccs- 278 THE fisher's DAUGHTER; sity of explaining the cause of their absence, by in- forming his Grace, that Mr. Wolf was gone to the sea- side to collect materials arid shells for forming a grotto, which he had just began to construct in a very curious manner; and that having nothing very particular that evening to occupy his attention, Mr. Lawrence had accompanied his pupil to the sea-shore, to assist him in his undertaking. " But had they known of the distinguished honor which your Grace had intended them," added the doctor, in a very obsequious style, ** they would most undoubtedly have preferred — " *' The collecting of materials here," cried his Grace, smiling at the pomposity which accompanied even the most trifling sentence of the little learned man. " Come doctor, there is some good wine close at your elbow, do me the favour to help yourself and yaur pupil beside you, and I will pledge you in a bumper, in drinking success and prosperity to the wooden walls of old England." " And immortal glory and renown to the encourage- ment of learning," uttered the doctor; "and the noble } supporters of the arts and sciences. Permit me, your Grace, to superadd this, in compliment to the present company." ** Thank ye doctor," cried his Grace, filling his glass; " I will certainly drink your toast, to which no one could have any reasonable objection ; for without en- couragement be given to learning, the arts and sci- ences, either in this country or any other, would have few supporters to draw from the humble vale of ob- scurity, the very structure on which they are formed, THK KIS mill's DAUGHTER. 279 oii^.the l){isis that cannot be shaken. Genius! where would the arts and sciences be without it ? and where learning?" To which Dr. Syntax gravely replied — " My sentiments, your Grace, precisely." " And the sentiments of every man, I hope doctor, who calls himself the friend of either," observed the Duke. " And in order that your Grace may be more per- fectly acquainted with the nature of those principles which constitute the friend of genius, and Avhat my opinion is on that subject; here are my lines on genius, the year I was disappointed in bringing out a favourite production, patronised by a very great personage, I assure your Grace, but his name shall be nameless. I never like to repeat old grievances, but when I am compelled to do it from necessity; for when the pub- lication came out, he put his name down for twenty copies, and only paid for one." " That was generous," uttered Lord Montague; "so much for patronage. But come, doctor, suppose you give us a specimen of your poetic talent. Alfred push the wine over to the doctor, after you have replenished your own glass." The command of his lordship was obeyed, although the invitation was at first modestly declined on the part of Alfred. But his Grace insisted that be should take another glass, and condescended to pour it out himself, at the same moment that he exclaimed — ** Alfred, 1 would not press upon you any thing that is not in the limits of propriety, but a second glass of wine will do you no harm. My motto is to be merry and be wise; human excellence cannot attain a more 280 TMK fisher's daughter. exalted .point ; but I am sorry to say, that very few of mankind can arrive at this point, not beiiig merely confined to the pleasures of the table, but in the gene- ral pursuits of human affairs. Now doctor, we are all profound attention to the object of your muse." " Your Grace does me infinite honour," cried the doctor, drawing carefully from his vest a scroll, which he declared that no time or circumstance had ever prevented from his depositing there with the utmost exactness ; and on the doctor placed his reading spec- tacles, and with a loud sonorous voice began to recite the following lines, which, however, reflected no small credit to the ingenious author of them. They were entitled Neglected Genius. ** Neglected Genius, heaven-born maid, Howe'er insulted, or howe'er betrayed. Though clothed in rags, thy still fair lovely form, Shall boast through life an universal charm. 'Tis thine to teach the human heart to glow, And give what rank or richts can't bestow ; Cause eyes to weep that never wept before, And make e'en Turks and infidels adore. Yet still the fool exulting nods his head, And weighs each golden drop from thee like lead; To such indeed is sense and feeling known, Who think the world was made for them alone. . But know sweet maid, at thy ecstatic birth. Like the soft dews that gently kiss the earth, Thy presence to the wretched gave relief. And soon allayed the pangs of hopeless grief. The trembling captive bound thee on his breast. And cheer'd his dungeon with his sportive guest; The peasant boy, while he leads out his sheep, On- craggy rocks that overlook the deep. Has in some pleasant dream thy form conveyed ; He wakes, and wonders why he is afraid To venture on a world of such delight. As would for ever charm a shepherd's sight. THE fisher's daughter. 281 His aged mother, and his father tco, Now fancy that their boy is something new ; For much he talks of war, of kings, and courts. Neglects his sheep, and follows warlike sports. Indulgent fate soon grants him his request — Behold the shepherd boy a soldier drest; lu quest of laurels, and in search of fame. He builds the fabric of a noble name. 'Tis genius all in chaste and hidden fires. Kindles the soul, and breathes such warm desires ; Without her smiles there's millions would be poor. But with her we can never be obscure. Ask tne poor poet, whose neglected lays Would oft remind him of a great man's praise. Who bids him still attend from day to day. Resolving when he comes to walk away. Are words, alas ! then all the poet gains. Reward for all his labour and his pains ? No ; when daring genius strikes the dart. She makes both fools and cowards feel the smart. Vindictive malice holds her venom'd tongue, Protects the aged, and still guards the young; Comes forth with meek and unafFecied grace. And claims her right to precedence of place ; Heaven's best gift, descended from the skies. And lives eternal, for it never dies ; Till fools no more the passing minutes tell, And hoary time shall bid the world farewell.* *^ Doctor, if this is the first poetic bantling you have toe honour of being the fathei of, I give you all possi- ble credit for the spirit, as well as the truth that it con- veys," exclaimed the Duke; " and whether you obtained the patronage, or not, of the personage you alluded to, I can only say that you deserved it, and that you do not possess one less atom of merit, because great men * The above lines were written by the authoress when only thir- teen years of age. C 12 N N 282 THE fisher's daughter. treat with indifference and coniempt what they them- selves have not the power or the ability to execute.** Lord Montague also bestowed great commenda- tion on this little pleasing poem of Dr. Syntax, which, though trifling, possessed some intrinsic merit. Yet Lord Montague was disappointed that Wolf was not present at this meeting, and that now there was no chance of being again on friendly terms with a youth whom he had treated with such unmerited severity. Besides, the whole secret would now be revealed to Lady Agatha, who would think it strange that Wolf did not come into the nursery as usual to play with the little Orlando; and as the child was so passionately fond of him, it would be remarked, and the cause per- haps enquired into by his lovely wife : and this thought was insupportable to Lord Montague ; for he was well aware that Wolf would not conceal the truth, but in- form her ladyship that he was forbidden to enter there, in the presence of the Marchioness, and by him. And what cause could he assign to Agatha for such conduct? Could he confess to her that he was jealous of a poor unfriended boy, who had once shared with her in all the perils of her fate ? No, Lord Montague felt that he could not do this, because it was certain that it would inflict pain on one of the purest bosoms in existence. The remedy therefore in this case was ten times worse than the disease. Alfred had said but little in the presence of his pa- tron, but that little was modest, and betrayed great solidity of mind, which was certainly an essential point in the character he was so shortly to personate, a can- THE fisher's DAUGH'l-KR. 283 didate for holy orders. He possessed mild, placid, and handsome features, and the tone of his voice was clear and harmonious. He certainly had not the brilliancy or the uncommon energy of the high spirited Wolf; for nature, though she had formed both in her happiest mood, had designed them for very opposite characters; both to shine, but with different lights and shades. She had done her work; it remained for education and mo- ral principles to finish the rest. It w^as late in the evening when Lawrence and his young pupil returned from their peregrinations,in which they had been so successful, that Wolf was loaded with a basket of sea weeds and shells ; and the very moment they made their entrance. Dr. Syntax, whose spirits were not only exhilarated with the wine he had drank, but intoxicated with the praises which the Duke and and Lord Montague had bestowed on his poem, ex- claimed — '' Well, gentlemen, I hope you have been highly gra- tified, and so have Mr. Alfred and myself. I was never so much so, I give you my honour and credit ; for while you have been cooling your heels at the sea- side, and tasting the breezes of the ocean, we have been tasting some of his Grace's champaign, in com- pany with his Grace too, I can assure you, and Lord Montague Montault. Which has the better bargain ?" To which Wolf, with a little asperity, replied — " To one part of it, sir, I should have had no objec- tion, but to the other 1 would much rather prefer the breezes of the ocean, though the winds blew a hurricane, the lightnings flashed, or the loud thunder roared." 284 THE FISHEJl*S DAUGHTER. " Well, I coDfess then Mr. Wolf," cried the doctor, laughing, '^ that I would much rather enjoy my own taste than share in yours ; an uncommon odd pro- pensity for a young man at your time of life.' *' But it is no less a truth, the most serious that I ever uttered," replied Wolf, indignantly. *^ The wine would have choked me ; I could not have gulped it down, I am very certain." *' You surprise me still more Mr. Wolf," reiterated the doctor. *' Bless my soul, wine choke you ! Why I tell you that the wine which was on Lord Monta- gue's table, and that Mr. Alfred and I drank several glasses of, was the most delicious that I ever tasted in my life* Come now, I am a pretty good judge of wine." '' I have no doubt of it, sir," responded Wolf; *^ but I again repeat, that were it more delicious than Nector offered to the gods, I could not have touched one drop of it." ** And why, sir, permit me to enquire ?" demanded the doctor, in the most profound astonishment. To which the now agitated youth, with a look that gave powerful energy to his words, replied — *• That, sir, will remain an impenetrable secret to the end of my existence." THE FISHER*S DAUGHTER. 285 CHAPTER XII. *« Our virtues would be proud, If our faults whipt them not ; And our crimes would despair. If they were not cherisb'd by Our virtues." Shakespeare. The feelings of Alfred had been put very severely to the test during the conversation that was taking place between Wolf and his tutor, fearful that some un- grounded expression might escape his lips, and his se- cret be divulged in the same instant; nor could he himself account for the vehemence as well as decision which appeared both in the manner and the features of Wolf in the sentence he had just pronounced; the most profound astonishment having taken possession of the grave sententious countenance of the doctor, and he exclaimed — *' I protest Mr. Wolf that your language appears a little enigmatical at the present moment, though there is not a doubt but you could adduce very sufficient reasons for not liking his lordship's wine, and which would seem no longer a mystery, were you to let us into the secret that you resolve to carry with you to the end of your existence; but I must tell you, young 286 THB fisher's daughter. gentleman, that it is excessively wrong at your time of life to make rash resolves, and sudden resolutions, which it is a thousand to one but you may chance to break the very first opportunity." To which Wolf replied — " And pray, sir, do not men run the chance of break- ing resolutions at all seasons of life?" ^* Granted, Mr. Wolf," answered the doctor. " No man can possibly be infallible ; yet I consider oaths, when preferred to the Deity, sacred, and that it were sinful to forfeit; for which reason they should never be made, unless they are intended to be kept inviola- ble. 1 appeal to Mr. Lawrence for the correctness of my opinion." " From which it is impossible I can ever dissent," cried Lawrence ; " for oaths are registered in Heaven when they are offered there, and it is sacrilege to for- feit them ; but it does not appear in this instance that my pupil has been guilty of this trespass ; I shall there- fore suffer him to pass without condemnation." " But I should not suffer myself to pass without condemnation, if I had folly or presumption enough to act contrary to the judgment of either of you two learned gentlemen," uttered Wolf, with a graceful and modest dignity, which rendered him peculiarly inter- esting to the objects on whom he had conferred this delicate and flattering mark of respect. I have taken no oath, that I know of, contrary to the purest precepts of religion in which I have been educated ; at the same time I must acknowledge, that I should not only have a distaste for Lord Montague's wjne, but to Lord Mon- tague himself, were he to offer it to me, my reasons for THH fisher's daughter. 287 which are locked up in my own breast, and I will never divulge them." " And there they had better remain Mr. Wolf^" cried Lawrence, gravely. " They are things which do not concern either myself or Dr. Syntax ; and while the exterior is so faultless as 1 have hitherto found it, it is not my business, as a tutor, to penetrate into the inte- rior part, or exercise severity where there is no occa- sion, if you do not like wine, you are certainly not obliged to drink it, and I would not mind telling Lord Montague so myself." A pause ensued to this speech of Lawrence's, and as it probably put an extinguisher on any further com- ments being made on the subject, the parties very quietly retired for the night to their respective cham- bers. Wolf, who now kept nothing secret from Alfred, explained the whole of the mystery of the wine business, and the behaviour he had experienced from his lordship and the Marchioness of Montault in the nursery, which filled the mind of the delicate and sen- sative Alfred with the utmost apprehensions, and in- quietude ; yet he certainly saw nothing to reproach him for, and he njost heartily wished that the time were indeed come for a removal .from Violet Vale, as it was too evident to perceive that Lord Montague was already jealous of the attractions of Wolf, and that so dangerous an object as the Lady Agatha now was to the peace of his beloved brother was best at a distance. In the meanwhile the Lady Agatha, perfectly uncon- scious of the reception that Wolf had received from her husband, wondered, when two days had clasped. 288 THE fisher's daughter. that he never paid his accustomed visit to the nursery to enquire after the health of his little favourite, and that there was also a constrained distance in his man- ner whenever he approached her, which was quite foreign to the intercourse which had so lately subsisted between them ; that even when by chance he directed a look towards her, it was suddenly withdrawn, while a deep shade of melancholy pervaded his fine animated and intelligent features ; she also remembered the des- pondent tone in which he had addressed her on the staircase: and wholly unconscious of the nature of his feelings, or the cause of the offence which had been given to him by Lord Montague, she determined the very first opportunity of being alone with him to de- mand an explanation of such extraordinary apparent chagrin, and what made him shun the embraces of her lovely infant. But Wolf had very seldom an op- portunity of seeing Lady Agatha without the presence of a third object ; he never dined at the table with her or Lord Montague except on very particular occasions ; he could see her no where but in the nursery, or in the gardens, both of which places he cautiously avoided, so that an explanation of his conduct was necessarily deferred, and Lady Agatha was certainly a little un- easy and mortified at this perceptible change in the manners and deportment of her young favourite to- wards her ; because she was not conscious of having given him any offence, and it never entered her imagi- nation that any one else in her establishment had, or she would certainly have resented it; much less did she suppose that Lord Montague had, and far less did she suspect the cause. In the meantime the little THE fisher's daughter. 289 Orlando, every time he caught a sight of Wolf, to whose caresses he was so accustomed, set up his little pipes in no very melodious strain, stretching out his arms; and one day the child cried so passionately, that it was heard, while they sat at dinner, by Lord and Lady Montault, the Duke being also present ; and on the bell being instantly rung to know what was the matter with the child, word was brought back, that Lord Or- lando seeing Mr. Wolf, cried to go to him, but the nurse had taken him into another apartment to pacify him, but all to no purpose, he still wanted to go to Mr. Wolf. This intelligence not only surprised i\gatha, but her lovely cheeks assumed a colour of the brightest crim- son, while she indignantly exclaimed — '*TeIl the nurse to bring the child here immediately, that I may know the meaning of such conduct. It is strange, indeed, that Wolf should be so unkind as to suffer the infant to cry thus after him ; he surely might have taken it for a few moments.'' " Stay, my love, it is perfectly ridiculous to flurry yourself so,'* uttered Lord Montague, who now felt like a criminal arraigned at the bar, and who was just going to take his trial ; and dreading the entrance of the nurse, he went out of the room with the rapidity of lightning, and returned in a few minutes with his infant son in his arms, who at the sight of hh mother soon dried its tears, nestling his head on her lovely bosom, and smiling in her face. ** My darling, you must never again have a favourite, if thus you are rewarded," uttered Agatha, with some asperity ; Lord Montague alledging as an excuse for a 13 o o 290 THL fisher's daughter. tlie nursfc, and the supposed ingratitude of poor Wolf, that it was only fancy in the child, for Wolf had never been near the nursery that day. This made bad worse ; for Lady Agatha, highly piqued, and in the heat of momentary anger, ex- claimed — " Nor for many days, to my certain knowledge ; and I must own I do not feel altogether pleased with such caprice, and cannot possibly guess the cause of it ; so fond of the child, and now to treat it thus : I have no patience." " Why, my love, you are really angry," cried Lord Montague, exhibiting the strongest marks of confu- sion, which was by no means unremarked by the Duke, while his lovely daughter replied — " My lord, I never affect what I do not feel. 1 am really angry, and Wolf shall know the cause of my displeasure." ^* And yet I would wager that Wolf is not the ag- gressor," uttered his Grace, fixing his eyes on the changing countenance of his nephew. *' There is some mistake in the business, which, in justice to the youth, whom I think highly of, I shall beg to have explained. What say you Montague ? Have you any objection to my speaking to Wolf on this subject?" And to the utter astonishment, both of his Grace and the Lady Agatha, Lord Montague, with almost involuntary warmth, replied — " Yes, your Grace, a very serious objection ; it is making this youth of too much consequence in my family. I w^ould not have him for one moment sup- pose that his contempt of my child can in the slightest THE fisher's daughter. 291 degree affect the feelings of Lady Agatha Montauit;" and darting a look of severe reprehension on the sur- prised countenance of his lovely wife, his lordship in- stantly quitted the room, leaving the Duke in amaze- ment at the agitation he had betrayed. " Good heavens ! my dearest father," uttered Aga- tha, " what can possibly be the matter with Monta- gue? He seems prejudiced against Wolf, but I am utterly ignorant as to what offence he may have given him." " That I will certainly know of Wolf himself," an- swered his Grace, ^' for it is perfectly unintelligible to me ; and notwithstanding his prohibition, I will assur- edly know the truth of it. It does not appear to me that Wolf is in fault ; but if he is, it is extremelyproper I should be made acquainted with the nature of his offence. 1 am his patron and protector, and if he has proved himself unworthy of the regard 1 was inclined to shew him, he shall no longer have my protection. I will instantly go into the study, and question him on a point that 1 will not bear to be trifled with ; in the mean time, my love, take no notice of the petulance of your husband ;" so saying, and snatching a kiss of the rosy little dimpled cherub that now lay sleeping in the arms of his beauteous mother, the Duke sallied forth in quest of the accused Wolf, whom he found with his tutor, intent upon some maps which Lawrence was accurately pointing out to him. The animated coun- tenance of Wolf reflected the mind that was its coun- terpart, energy, sensibility, and truth ; and he arose on the entrance of his august patron, as also did the tutor. 292 THE fisher's daughter. " 1 have broken in upon you without ceremony, be- cause the business I came about is somewhat urgent," uttered his Grace. " It is with you Wolf that 1 wish to commune privately; Lawrence, you will leave us to- gether." The tutor bowed and made his exit, while Wolf closed the door gently after him, then returned, and waited in silence the commands of his patron, who addressed the astonished youth in the following words : — " Wolf, you are well aware that if I had not consi- dered you were worthy of my protection, I should never have placed you where you now are. Whenever I find you disgracing it, you must instantly depart, and no intercession will ever induce me to pardon your indis- cretion." "O your Grace! and do you think me guilty of any?" now exclaimed the agitated Wolf. " If I am, I know not in thought, word, or deed, the nature of my offence towards you, or any beneath this roof. I beseech you then, sport not with the feelings of one who would sooner perish, than live disgraced in the eyes of his patron. What fault have I committed ? Who — who has accused me ?" " You are not accused ; hear me patiently," cried the Duke. '^ I am only going to put a few questions to you on a subject that puzzles me ; all you have to do is to answer them with a strict adherence to the truth, which you never need blush to own." '' Your Grace I honour truth, as I adore the hallow- ed source from whence it flows," uttered Wolf now, with his wonted spirit and energy of character. " I 293 have been scourged for it when I was in the Black Forest ; I have writhed under the lash of the whip for it, till my back was laid bare and bleeding, yet I never forfeited it. I was then wild, little better than a savage boy, untutored, uneducated, still I was steadfast to the truth ; and shall I now forsake that beaten track, which was the light of my existence, and the glory of my heart ? Now that I have energy, sensibility, charac- ter, now that I feel I am springing into manhood, shall I forsake man's proudest boast — truth? No, let me perish first. Now for the questions, so please your Grace, and I will answer them fearlessly, but truly, as I hope for mercy at the judgment scat of heaven." The Duke for a moment was lost in wonder, asto- nishment, and even admiration at the character of this intrepid and fine spirited youth, whose bold defence of himself was marked with an expression that would have commanded respect, even from those who were his superiors ; and that he sprung from a race that was noble, however abject the state which he described to have been his former lot, or however impervious the vail which was cast over his origin, there was not the smallest doubt. Still he resolved to he satisfied on the points he was so solicitous to obtain a knowledge of; and in the mildest tone bade the agitated youth to compose him- self, for that he entertained the highest opinion of both his principles and his honour, from the sentiments he had just broached, which were as creditable to himself as to those who protected him ; and that such was how his confidence in the native ingenuousness of his character and disposition, that he would unveil his thoughts with less reserve than he had at first intended 294 THE fisher's daughter. to do, and immediately asked him why he had for the last several days so sedulously avoided bestowing caresses on his little grandson, and that ^ he did not visit the nursery as usual to play with the child. Instantly the face of Wolf was in a perfect flame, and his features assumed an expression that might have been taken for ferocity, liad not sensibility shone in his brilliant eyes, and moistened his cheek with a tear. Every nerve seemed roused to energy, and he exclaimed — " Your Grace, however painful to my feelings, I must inform you of the cause." " That is exactly what I want you to do," cried the Duke. ^' I was forbidden to enter the nursery, peremptorily forbidden to enter it, and severely reprimanded for pre- suming to caress the young Lord Orlando," reiterated Wolf, an involuntary sigh escaping from his breast, which now proudly and indignantly swelling at the re- collection of the reproaches he had received from Lord Montague on this occasion, would have concealed at this moment the pain he had inflicted there. Petrified and confounded by this intelligence, which completely justified the conduct of the so falsely ac- cused Wolf in the estimation of his august patron, he demanded to know who had forbidden him. "Lord Montague Montault," answered Wolf, boldly, '^ none other but him : the Lady Agatha and yourself would not have taught Wolf implicitly to follow a com- mand so repugnant to his feelings ; for not more do I love the light of all created universe, than I love the face of that beauteous boy. It has cost me some pains THE fisher's DAUGHT5ER. 295 to avoid the sweet innocent, but Wolf has done his duty." " And nobly, my boy," uttered the Duke, after a few minutes abstraction of thought ; " yet I own it appears to me extraordinary. Did he assign no cause ?" " I did not presume to ask, your Grace," answered Wolf. " The Marchioness of Montault was present when I received this so little merited reproof from his lordship, and her ladyship was equally severe, her mo- tives for which I am wholly ignorant of, nor did I enquire. And why, your Grace ? conscience whispered that I was innocent of the slighest offence; and what has innocence to do with fear?" The Duke was profoundly silent. There was a pain- ful and involuntary thought that it was possible filled his mind at the communication of poor Wolf, which having connected with other existing circumstances, very nearly amounted to conviction of what before he had only surmised, that the uncommon perfections, and brilliant genius of this promising youth, had ex- cited in the breast of even the accomplished Lord Montague, two of the meanest and most miserable passions that can agitate the human bosom, envy and jealousy ; yet so tenacious was the Duke of concealing the faults of his son-in-law from his protegee, that he affected an air of carelessness, while he replied — " My dear boy, you are now perfectly restored to my good opinion, and I shall never henceforth accuse you wrongfully. That I did not, that I could not sus- pect you without a cause, is the reason why I have sought in this interview to know the real state of your 298 THK fisher's daughter. feelings ; I find you clear, without a shadow of offence, and the fault decidely rests with Lord Montague, who, though he is the husband of my angelic child, I do not choose to glance over; but they are faults which you must not notice. Wolf, and which delicacy to the Lady Agatha forbids me to explain. I can say no more as a father, but you may probably gue.^s at them. Every man has a fault in his disposition, and Lord Montague has one; I need not point it out to you, your good sense (of which you have 1 am happy to say an abun- dant share) will suggest the meaning of what 1 would not wish to disclose to mortal. He is the husband of my daughter, and therefore he is sacred from any reproof of mine, while he does not glaringly interfere with the happiness of my beloved child, born under circum- stances, which even you Wolf are no stranger to." Here a struggling and convulsive sigh escaped from the breast of the Duke of Braganza, sacred to the memory of the now sainted mother of his Agatha, and for some mo- ments he scarcely recovered his self-possession ; at length he resumed his discourse, for the feelings of Wolf could not be explained, they were undefinable. " You must take no notice of what has passed be- tween us Wolf,'* uttered the Duke. " Lawrence will question you, but resolve him nothing ; in the mean- time I will point out to you a system of conduct, which you must instantly adopt while you remain beneath the roof of Lord Montague Montault, and that is, to behave precisely as formerly, when you first came hither. Go to the nursery and seek your little fa- vourite, who will be as naturally anxious to seek you; THE fisher's daughter. 297 and take my word for it, you will never be forbidden again to enter there by the command of Lord Mon- tague Montault." ''But I hope, your Grace, that I have not equally incurred the displeasure of the Lady Agatha, by obey- ing the commands of her lord/' cried Wolf, with his face in a rich glow of crimson;, and unable to conceal the pain that he endured from such a supposition ; the Duke all the while looked at him with keen penetra- tion ; but there was no reproach in the glance that was directed towards him, and he mildly replied — " No, she was not offended, but a little hurt that her little Orlando was disregarded, or rather forsaken by his favourite. No matter, I will set all this to rights ; but I charge you, Wolf, to hold no conversation with the Lady Agatha on this subject. It is sufficient that 1 am able to justify you in her opinion. You must seek no further explanation with the daughter of Braganza." *' Your Grace's commands must ever be sacred with Wolf,'* uttered he, and bowed gracefully. '^ When I forfeit them, then spurn me from your presence, and cast me off* for ever." " I will stake my life on your obedience, my boy,'* exclaimed the Duke, surveying Wolf with unspeakable satisfaction, " and leave you to your reflections. The time is fast approaching when you will seek for fame and glory in martial deeds. You will shortly be re* moved from hence, to engage in the perils of the field, and let that alone occupy your present thoughts. If I augur rightly, I shall not be deceived in the expectations I have formed of your successful debut on the stage of your profession. Farewell, and peace be with you." A 13 PF 298 THE fisher's DAUaHTfiR. The Dnke was a little overcome by the serious con- versation he had held with Wolf, as well as by a pre- diction, that if this disposition in Montague continued to gain strength, that fleeting and short would be the happiness of his beloved child, whose every thought was pure, and whose every action was blameless. Besides, he liked not the clandestine visits of the Marchioness to her son, and the unbounded influence which, though married, she yet possessed over him. What right had she to exercise any severity towards Wolf, or reprove him for his fondness for his little grandson, and in the absence of his Agatha, make comments that she had no business to do in the esta- blishment of his daughter? In short, the Duke was not in the most possible of all sweetest of tempers when he again made his entrance to the drawing-room, and there beheld the Marchioness, Lady Lavinia, and Lord Winstone, whose nuptials were to be solemnized in the course of a few days ; and they all rose to re- ceive him with the greatest respect. Lord Montague had recovered some portion of his chagrin, and was conversing with great gaiety with Lord Winstone on the subject of his approaching change of condition. The Marquis was talking in a low strain to Lady Aga- tha, over whose lovely features there was a pensive shade, yet her irresistibly charming smile was the same as ever, although its bright beam shed a some- what fainter ray. " I protest, your Grace, it is insufferably provoking to take yourself away when you were most wanted,^' uttered the wily Marchioness, with one of her most insinuating smiles, which, though she had hitherto been THE fisher's daughter. 299 a favourite of the Duke's, on this evening had, for some reason or other, lost its power of fascination : *' we have wanted your Grace's decision on a most impor- tant point for this half hour, and now you are come we will positively have it." To which his Grace gravely replied — " There are some points, your ladyship, which I should not choose to decide upon, although I grant that decision is a necessary virtue, without which man would be a mere nonentity." " But we cannot decide without your Grace's judg- ment on this occasion, for it happens to be so impor- tant, that it depends entirely upon your Grace, it ap- pears, by a majority of ladies, whether I am to be honoured with a certain fair hand, unless that hand is presented by his Grace the Duke of Braganza," utter- ed Lord Winstone. *' In short, your Grace, Lady La- vinia positively refuses to become my bride, if you don't become her father." " Yes, indeed I have said so, your Grace," cried Lady Lavinia, blushing deeply, or rather affecting to blush deeply, for certainly none of nature's labouring was there, but no inconsiderable quantity of Parisian rouge bepainted cheeks that would have appeared to much greater advantage without it. '^ And 1 am sure, my love, that his Grace will not refuse your supplication," cried the Marchio- ness. " Nor mine, I hope," reiterated Lord Winstone. *^ Nor mine," echoed the Marquis, now fixing his eyes for the first time on the unusual gravity which 300 pervaded almost every fine feature of the Duke of Bra- ganza. " Nor mine/* repeated a voice, full of the most melodious sweetness, and that voice was his beloved daughter's. " Dearest father, it is the request of Lady Lavinia, that you will at the holy altar consign her hand to Lord Winstone ; and 1 am sure you cannot form any reasonable objection to such a request/' "None in the least, my love," replied the Duke, fixing on the lovely features of his beloved child a look of the most idolized fondness. " Lord Winstone and Lady Lavinia may command my very best services on so joyful an occasion, if services they can be consider- ed. To confer happiness on others, is to me the most pleasurable sensation that I can enjoy ; to inflict unne- cessary pain would make me as miserable ; and those who delight in doing so, deserve to be miserable to the end of their existence." This was not spoken without point, and the Mar- chioness exhibited the strongest marks of confusion. Nor was Lord Montague without his share of mortifi- cation, for he had not the slightest doubt but the Duke, in consequence of the chagrin that his daughter had betrayed at the supposed ingratitude of Wolf, had de- manded an explanation of his conduct, and that Wolf had told them all that had passed between them, in which case his own weakness must make him appear very ridiculous in the eyes of his father-in-law, and would also be very soon manifest to his lovely wife. Lord Montague therefore sat upon thorns during the remainder of the evening, making out the old adage, THE fisher's daughter. 301 that a guilty conscience wants no accusing when put to the test. Nor was the mind of Lady Agatha in its perfectly serene and quiet temperature. She was dis* pleased with Wolf, and she was by. no means pleased with her husband ; and she felt indignant with botb^ without being able to seek an explanation with either of them, because she had been enjoined by her father not to do so ; yet surely he would tell her if Wolf were guilty or not, if he had obtained any conversation with him ; and she was certain that he had, and that the re- sult was not very favourable to her husband. Cau- tiously, however, did Lady Agatha conceal her sensa- tions, and the conversation becoming general, no fur- ther notice was taken of the humour of either of the party, except that Lady Lavinia appeared exhilarated in spirits to the highest degree, and Lord Winstone the most transported of lovers. The Marchioness, probably a little piqued at the pointed expressions of the Duke, from whom she had hitherto received the most flattering compliments, thought it policy not to expose herself to the animadversions which he might again take an opportunity of passing on her, and im- mediately set herself down to cards in an adjoining apartment, where card tables were laid out for those who chose to play, and to which Lord Montague and Lord Winstone had retired, the Duke remaining in conversation with his brother, his lovely daughter, and Lady Lavinia, and where some successful rubbers at whist soon put the Marchioness into her usual flow of spirits. She always played high, and very rarely lost, and had ever been an adept in this fashionable amuse- ment; and Lady Lavinia, who always loved to copy 302 THE fisher's daughter. beautiful mamma in every air and grace, was a tolerable proficient in the art of winning large sums, and some- times losing them, an accomplishment certainly that would not have met the approval of her lover had he known it; but defects were concealed, for beautiful mamma never suffered her daughter to sit down to the card table when Lord Winstone was there. Once, however, it caught the observation of the Marquis at a crowded party, when the Marchioness supposed that he was elsewhere ; and the next day it called forth severe reprehension. *' What in the name of heaven do you mean. Mar- chioness, by teaching your daughter to play at cards ?" uttered he. ^^ 1 am shocked, perfectly shocked at such glaring impropriety.'* To which her ladyship replied, with an air of the most provoking noncha- lence — " And I am perfectly amazed, nay I am horrified by your making so absurd an enquiry. Can your daugh- ter move in high circles of fashion, without playing at cards ?" '* Then it is a great pity that high circles of fashion cannot teach her something more worthy of imitation," answered the Marquis ; " and it is not the merely playing at cards that J object to but I have a very great objection to seeing a female so young as Lavinia, betting for considerable sums of money with the most professed gamblers in town, and her mother sanction- ing such indecorous conduct ; and I can tell you. Mar- chioness, that I will not tolerate such doings. If ever I see Lavinia acting again so improperly, I will chastise her with that authority that becomes a father, who is THE fisher's daughter. 303 naturally anxious for the happiness, the honour of his child." " And expose yourself to the severity of all your ac- quaintance," cried the Marchioness. " Had you not better purchase an iron cage, and put her into it, with a padlock, of which nobody is to keep the key but your- self? Upon my word. Marquis, you are particularly fastidious all of a sudden, in your precise notions of female propriety." " My notions are precisely what they ever were," reiterated the Marquis ; " and your ladyship wiil find them so, if this pernicious habit is continued by your daughter, and encouraged by you." At this unlucky moment, when fire raged on both sides. Lady Lavinia made her appearance, and inter- rupted this no very agreeable matrimonial duet be- tween papa and beautiful mamma, by making it a trio ; for the Marquis in a displeased tone exclaimed — " Lavinia, I desire I may never see you doing what you did last night at Lady Tannington's." '^ La, papal and what was that?" demanded the young fashionable beauty, in her usual simpering mode of expressing herself; and glancing towards beautiful mamma, she there beheld the approach of a storm, and w^ondered what had also ruflfled the quiet and always placid temperature of her father, who immediately re- plied — '* You were doing what a young female of your age ought to blush in acknowledging, Lavinia, and what you never shall do again with my permission. Win- ning, losing, and betting at cards 3 and with whom ? 304 THE fisher's daughter. gamblers, professed, notorious gamblers ; although they may call themselves men of fashion, of education, and of high birth, they are nevertheless a disgrace to it, and the scourge, the infamy of all mankind. And a fe- male gamester! heaven and earth, shall I suffer a child of mine to add to the disgusting catalogue that fills up the annual register of the votaries of the gam- ing table? Lavinia, on peril of my eternal displeasure, I command you to forego this dangerous propensity, this infatuated passion. I will not allovr you to play a single card beneath this roof, or any other ; your im- mediate acquiescence to my wishes will prove if you have any affection for a father, who, however severe he may be considered in giving you these restrictions, gives at the same instant the most incontestable proof of his affection for his daughter." Although the Marchioness had been silent during this conversation with the Marquis and Lady Lavinia, it was not out of fear, but policy and interest, which if it be the white man's god, is certainly the white woman's too; for the wily Marchioness well knew that there was more advantage in being silent, than by offering any opposition to the arguments he had been adducing against play ; but, though silent, her looks had all the eloquence of speech in them, and they were presently understood by the fair culprit, who, wholly unprepared for this grave lecture of her father, was covered with confusion; and glancing at beautiful mamma, whose motions were most expressive of her meaning, she in- stantly crept up beside her, and leaned over the otto- man, where her ladyship was reclining, with a sort of THE fisher's daughter. 205 perfect indifference as to the scene that was passing. Softly, however, now she whispered in the ear of the blushing and half aflfrighted maid — *' Why don't you cry child, he will never be able to resist your tears; come, put your handkerchief to your eyes, and sob as loud as ever you can." This hint was no sooner given by beautiful mamma 'than taken, for Lady Lavinla was an apt scholar. The Marquis had arisen from his chair, and was pacing the room, apparently to recover the effects of his irritabi- lity, and his waste of breath and words on his insensi- ble child, when to his utter astonishment she suddenly burst into a convulsive passion of tears ; and her sobs were so outrageously violent, that the Marchiorjcss in- stantly sprang from the ottoman, and rang the bell for some hartshorn to rub the temples of her dear child, that she protested would go into a fainting fif, owing to the cruel and barbarous manner in which the Marquis had attacked her. ' '*^ Yoti have really no compassion, not even for your own offspring. Marquis," uttered the Marchioness. ** The dear creature is quite overcome, she is so sen-^ sitive and so nervous, all soul and tender sensibility." The hartshorn was now applied without effect. The hysteric sobs of Lady Lavinia still continued with rei- terated violence, and the fountain of tears to deluge the cheeks of the sensitive beauty, while beautiful mamma poured torrents of reproaches on the object who had occasioned such agitation in the snowy breast of her beautiful Lavinia, who carried on the farce so well, that she succeeded in making her father believe that her indisposition was occasioned by his severity, c 13 Q Q 306 THE fishkk's daughter, and that she was so powerfully aftected by his re- proaches, as to excite symptoms of the most alarmitig insensibility. Now the Marquis, though in some points of his cha- racter he was particularly tenacious of what should bo considered right or wrong, and would for a moment exert that control which he thought it incumbent for him to do, yet in the next moment he would betray the weakness that belongs to human nature, and forget his former resolutions f in one word, the Marquis of Mon- tault, though one of most amiable of husl>ands and he the best of fathers, as wcU &9 the most prudent and moral of men, possessed an unaecountablesoftoess of disposi- tion, which had too much of the milk of human kind- ness in it; and the firmest of his resolutions could be dissolved, or rather broken, when they came in co»- taet with that yielding point in his disposition. Now ye severe moralists, what shall we say ? Were they faults, or were they virtues ? The very gravest, nay the very wisest of you cannot decide that point; for of philosophy no man can reasonably boast when he is put to the test, and woman lies in the perspective. THE FI8HSR's DAU6HTER. 307 CHAPTER XIII. ** There is nought iu heaven. Or earth, or air, or ocean beautiful. That bears not some similitude to thee. Calm as the summer sky, and sparkling As the summer night; as gentle as the ware That steals along the orient sands, when winds Are hush'd in deep repose ; blooming as flowers, Woo'd by the gales of June ; thy perfumed sighs Breathe of the musk rose, and its deepest blush Tints thy fair cheek. A peri formed of air. And balm, and sunshine, nursed in purple bowers Of fadeless araarauths ; from the bright realms^ Thy pearly gates of paradise, thy feet Have strayed to bless a raortal." Subdued, or rather deceived by an appearance of so much sensibility, in which he had always imagined bis daughter to have been greatly deficient, the Marquis instantly softened his asperity towards her, and with a spontaneous feeling which is not always to be suppressed, (at the same moment that we admit it may be termed a weakness,) he approached the sobbing girl, and imprinting a father's fond kiss upon her cheek, ex- claimed — "Come, dry these tears my Lavinia, and compose your fluttered spirits to serenity and peace, for yo« know me too well, to suppose I would unnecessarily or 308 THE fisher's daughter. cruelly give you pain. Seventy is not a feature in my character, but decision ever ; if your tears flow from a consciousness of the impropriety of conduct which I have been pointing out to you, I am convinced that you will not again hazard the displeasure of your father. I will therefore dismiss a subject so painful to us both ; and as you have evinced these marks of contrition for your fault, I freely forgive you 3 for repentance is always an atonement for error, when breathed from a heart that is perfectly sincere." The Marquis then went to his private cabinet in the adjoining apartment, and returning, presented his sup- posed penitent child with a most liberal mark of his generous consideration for the pain and mortification he had inflicted on her feelings, which it is possible had more influence (as certainly it had more weight) than all the admonitions he had been giving her ; and instantly the fountain of tears, which had till then so incessantly flowed, were stopped in their current, as if by a magic inspiration : such is the power of gold ! And stealing an expressive glance from beautiful mamma, who silently triumphed in the success of finesse. Lady Lavinia's countenance now borrowed the semblance of the sunny ray, when first it darts its orient beams after a gloomy shower, and smiling at the glittering ore, ex- claimed— " Indeed papa, I will never make you angry again. No, never, if you will always go to your cabinet and bring me such a present as this." *' And so your smiles are to be purchased, are they my Laviuia?" uttered the Marquis ; " and if so, you will not find mc so ready to become a bidder at any THB fisher's daughter. 309 future opportunity; for you will gain nothing, while I consider that interest has any thing to do in the bu- siness, believe me/* " Oh I don't mean that, papa," cried Lady Lavinia, colouring like scarlet. *^ Then what did you mean ?" uttered the Marquis, ** I don't know," responded Lady Lavinia, simper- ing, and looking towards the Marchioness for furtlier instructions, who perceived that it was now necessary for her to edge in a word, or that Lavinia would lose all the ground she had been making in the good graces of her father ; for she was not yet an adept in the art of dissimulation quite so far, as to appear what she really was not ; and the Marchioness exclaimed — " My dear Marquis, do not tease the dear child so, when you see how determined she is to obey your commands ; it is really barbarous of you to torment lier thus. Come love, we are going to a party to night at Lady Gaylove's, and it is necessary that you should make sotne slight alteration in your dress. Kiss papa, and let us retire to our dressing-room. Marquis, do you intend to escort us there? but I had forgot. You have an appointment with Montague, have not you ?" ^* Yes, and it is one that I cannot dispense with," cried the Marquis. " He is going to appoint a new steward, and 1 have recommended him one that I ain of opinion will do him justice. Of course I must b« present at the introduction, but I will meet you in the course of the evening at Lady Gaylove's." Lady Lavinia now threw her snowy arms around the neck of her too indulgent father; and as she pressea 310 THE fisher's daughter. his cheek with her roseate lips, warbled in melodious accents, " For I am your only daughter ;'* and the Marchioness laughed heartily, while the Mar- quis, most cordially returning the salutation, left them together to fulfil his appointment at Violet Vale. No sooner had he made his exit, than both of the ladies enjoyed (he success of the admirable farce they had been playing. ** Bravo, Lavinia 1" cried beautiful mamma. <* You will make an excellent actress when you have a little n)ore practice," " But I wa? almost at a loss when the crying scene was over mamma," uttered the young lady. ** But how shockingly barbarous it is of papa to prohibit me from j)laying, when by a lucky chance one may win thou- sands.** ^' And by an unlucky one lovse them," cried the Mar-: chioness, with a deep sigh; " however, I believe you may safely venture on a hit to night, while your father is absent, at Lady Gaylove's. There wilt be some young pigeons there, fresh upon the turf. We must try to fleece them ; for, to tell you the truth, Lavinia, I have been prodigiously out of luck lately. Some demon presides over my cards, for I have lost repeat- edly, and gained nothing by my ventures. How much money has your father given you ?" Lady Lavinia counted the gold on the tabic, thp Marchioness surveying it with a greedy and a wisliful eye, while she artfully added — THE fisher's daughter. 311 "J never knew him so generous before; now the way to keep him so, is most rigidly to comply with the conditions for which he has given you such liberal marks of his munificence. So, my love, instead of your playing to night at Lady Gay love's, suppose you let me try your chance, and lend me the money ; then if I should be a winner — " A shade of no very pleasing aspect passed over the fair countenance of the fashionable beauty; she paused a little, and then exclaimed — *' But if you should be a loser, beautiful mamma, you wont be able to return the money so soon as I want it, and then I shall be so disappointed." " Why, what do you want it for?" demanded the Marchioness. " I want to buy a monkey," uttered the young lady, *' to play with the squirrel that VVinstone gave me ; and I must have one, cost what it will." *' 1 promise you the monkey, if you will lend me the money to night. I will get a monkey for you to- morrow on that proviso." " I shall cry ready to break my heart if you don't," simpered Lady Lavinia. ** Pretty dear ! but it shan't cry," cried the Mar- chioness, coaxingly. *' I will win to night, fleece the pidgeons, and buy the monkey, as a momenlo of their folly, to-morrow." , " If I could be certain of your winning, beautiful mamma; but" — hesitated Lady Lavinia. *' If I do not win, I will give you my second best diamond necklace and earrings, in which you capti- ^12 THE FISHER S DAUGHTER. vatcd Lord Winsfone at Lady Tannington's/' uttered the Marchioness. The temptation was too strong to be resisted. Lady Lavinia yielded to the solicitation of beautiful mamma, and gave her the contents of her purse without a mo- ment's delay, to the inexpressible joy of the Marchio- ness, whose own finances were completely exhausted by her late considerable losses at the gaming table, ^atal, infatuated, and destructive passion, at which too frequently the honour both of a husband and a wife are staked at a venture, domestic happiness destroyed, female delicacy put to the severest test of mortified feelings, and principles and character become a woeful wreck. This imprudent woman, (the most unfit in na- ture to have the guidance of a young and beautiful daughter, being unable to guide hei-self,) not only persisted in a continuance of her own folly, but, not- withstanding the admonitions of her excellent hus- band to his child, and the unexampled proof he had given of the generosity of his disposition, still en- couraged her daughter to pursue this evil propensity by her own pernicious example; absolutely taking the gift, which a kind indulgent father had bestowed, from the too credulous girl, in order that she might again enjoy the luxury of this detestable vice. Eut from this disgusting picture let us turn with al)- horrencej, to one of the loveliest, in the form of Lady Agatha Montault, who to the endearing titles of wife and mother, added that of woman, in her best and' fairest semblance; for though beautiful, she was not vain- 5 and though wise, she was not conceited. THE fisher's daughter. MS It was not because the Graces had wreathed roses round her brows for the adornment of her lovely per- son, that Braganza's daughter arrogated to herself a superiority over her fellow creatures. No, she had been taught to value herself on qualities far more trans- cendant ;— to erect a temple of charity ; — but where ? not in the Morning Herald, or the Daily Advertiser, that emblazoned her name with public donations. No, she had been taught a different mode of bestowing benefits on her fellow creatures; for the fame she built upon was her own conscience, and the temple of cha- rity she erected was in the human heart. Shall we then emblazon her worth by eulogy ? Shall volumes speak her praise? No, the anguished heart from which she so oft had removed the load of care, the tearful eye which she so oft had dried, let these — these speak, where language is denied. Like the violet of the lowly vale, she sheltered those virtues, whose retiring modesty creates a charm, more sweetly fra- grant than the flower which obtrudes itself on our gaze. The rose is seen, but the violet will be sought after. Such was the portrait of Montague's wife ; yet Monta- gue, though not insensible to the choice blessing which heaven had bestowed, knew not how to appreciate its value. Lord Montague had some difficulty in conceahng the mortifying sensations he experienced from the ob- servation of his lovely wife when they retired to their chamber, and he was left alone with her; and he dreaded her making the enquiry herself about it, and therefore most cautiously avoided any conversation on a 14 R R 314 THE fisher's daughter. the subject. But of this there was, though unknown to his lordship, not the slightest apprehension, for Lady Agatha was as silent as he was ; the hints she received from her father being sufficient to deter her from seeking any explanation from her husband, of the mystery of his conduct respecting Wolf. Meanwhile things remained in the same position till the following morning. Lord Montague arose with the $nine gloomy aspect seated on his brow, and with the same restless temperature of disposition, not that either his manners or his words were ungentle towards his lovely wife. He was not out of humour with her, but with himself, for which there was no remedy, but that which was most humiliating and repellant to his feelings, and that was to offer an apology to the of- fended Wolf, for the hasty, not to say the unkind man- ner in which he had expressed himself towards him ; for to run the risk of Wolf repeating it elsewhere, would be immediately to discover that he was jealous of him ; and after resolving and re-resolving for a length of time, he determined while Lady Agatha was absent with her infant son, on her accustomed airing in their salubri- ous and healthy situations around the sea coast, to send for Wolf, and to speak to him j)rivately. In the mean time Agatha had as resolutely determined that morning to pay a visit to Mrs. Russel, whom she had not seen for several days ; and she was now quite anx- ious to know the state of her health, and to take her little boy with her, according to promise; but Agatha had never yet done any thing without consulting the approbation of her husband ; and as soon as breakfast THE fisher's daughter. 31& was over, she informed him she was going to see the Fisher's Daughter; and to take Lord Orlando with her. " For do you kno^v, my love," added she, with a sweet smile playing over her lovely features, which had not yet lost its inexpressible charm in the eyes of her still adoring Montague, " that Jessy is quite im- patient to see my little darling. " May I then go and take my boy?" To which Lord Montague, with a look of the most impassioned fondness, and feeling the delicate respect she ever paid to his wishes, replied — " My dearest, and do you think it necessary to ask ])ermission, when you have an undoubted right to con- sult your own inclinations?" '* Certainly," cried Agatha, *' your inclinations are mine also. My heart has never formed one wish con- trary to yonr judgment, in which I consider you supe- rior. If you do not approve of my taking the child to Mrs. Russel's, I would not surely do it, though that wish was mine." " Do as your heart directs you then, my angel," cried Lord Montague ; " for 1 am confident that while you thus act so prudently, you can never do wrong. Take the boy, and let his first visit to the Fisher's Daughter be accompanied with a testimony of my re- spect to the amiable Jessy ;" and Lord Montague im- mediately j)laced in the hands of his lovely wife a very liberal mark of his generosity to the little stranger, to the inexpressible delight of Agatha, who, paying a very elegaiit compliment on the occasion, ordered the car- riage ; and taking her son in her arms, told the nurse ihat she should . dispense with her services, till she 3j6 the fisher's daughter. returned from the visit she was going to make to a friend. " Dear me, my lady, and will you not be terribly fa- tigued in nursing the child ?" cried the nurse. " Lord Orlando is a little boisterous fellow, I assure you, and I fear you will not be able to manage him without my assistance.'* "O never fear Margaret," answered Agatha; "I shall do very well with the little urchin, I promise you. 1 am not one of those delicate ladies who are afraid of nursing their own children ; it is a mother's duty, and the sweetest privilege she can enjoy." So saying, Lady Agatha having stepped into her car- riage, it immediately drove off, the infant clapping his little hands, and testifying every demonstration of the most infantine and lively joy, in being nestled to the bosom of his lovely mother ; and after a pleasant ride of nearly an hour, they soon arrived within slight of Mrs. Russel's habitation : and Jessy, being seated at the win- dow to inhale the breezes of the fresh air, very quickly discovered the carriage of Lord Montault ; and in de- lighted accents exclaimed to her husband, who was sitting by her side — '* My gracious, Samuel ! there is Lady Agatha, as I hope to live, and her little son ! Run — run my love, and assist her out of the carriage." Away posted honest Sam, just as the carriage stopt at the gates ; and in a few minutes Agatha was in the presence of her friend, where the warmest congratula- tions between them took place. Jessy almost devoured with kisses her lovely boy, while Agatha exclaimed — " It is really a most agreeable surprise to see you so THE fisher's daughter. 317 charmingly recovered, and looking so delightfully well. Well, you see what a little Hercules 1 have brought you to look at. " He is indeed a prodigious fine child,*' uttered Jessy. *' But not half so beautiful as the Fisher's Daughter," responded Agatha, gazing with delighted rapture on the face of the little girl, as it lay sleeping in a cradle at the feet of its mother. *' U{)on my word Mr. Russel, if your daughter continues to improve as she has since I last beheld her, you will have the credit at some fu- ture day, of being father to one of the most lovely crea- tures in existence; never did I see so pretty a little babe." Mr, Russel seemed highly gratified with this compli- ment from Lady Montault; but how much more so, when Agatha presented the gift of her husband to Jessy, in commemoration of the birth of her daughter; and no witnesses being present, she gradually revealed the last request of her foster father, to which both Jessy and her husband most cheerfully assented. " That is, if I can in any way prevail on my father," uttered Jessy, looking at Samuel, as if she feared there would be some little difficulty. " You know my fa- ther's oddities, dearest Agatha," added she, smiling, *^ He will have my girl called Peggy, he says, in spite of me ; it was the name of my mother. Your influ- ence alone can make him alter that determination." *^ My influence! I fear I have lost it," cried Agatha, colounng deeply at the recollection of the conversation which took place between them at their last meeting. " Ah you are quite mistaken, your ladyship," cried 818 THE fisher's daughter. Sam. ^' Mr. Blust would sooner comply with any request af yours, than any other mortal soul living. You hav*e but to name the wish of Captain Singleton, and I would stake my life on your not meeting with a re- fusal." " Well, I shall put him to the test of it the very mo- ment that I have a seasonable opportunity," answered Agatha. *' Perhaps we may have a little stormy wea- ther at first about it, but it will soon subside again into a pleasant calm, when he is informed of the motive that urges me to so i)ress!ng a solicitation.** Other conversation now ensued, Mr. Russel very de- licately leaving the ladies together; aware of the great confidence that subsisted between his wife and Lady Montault, and that she might have something to im- part to Jessy, in which a third personage might be considered an intruder, he took the earliest opportu- nity of retiring, in order that they might enjoy a mutual interchange of thoughts and sentiments ; and Agatha then, with some little hesitation, enquired if Jessy had seen Wolf and Alfred since her confinement. To which Mrs. Russel replied — *'* Yes, more than once, and they were delighted with the sight of my little moppet. Wolf in particular; he is excessively attached to children.*' " But a little changeable in his attachment towards them," cried Agatha, colouring deeply. " He appear- ed to be passionately fond of my little Orlando, and could not rcst a day without going into the nursery to play with him, but all of a sudden he has quite deserted his little favourite, his motives for which I am utterly at a los3 to define, and I am excessively angry with THE FISHER S DAUGHTER. 319 liim Jessy, I assure you. 1 do not admire such unac- countable caprice." "Nay, my dear friend, you must not condemn Wolf unheard," cried Mrs. Russel, with a peculiar expres- sion in her countenance. " It may have been possible that his devotions to Lord Orlando in the nursery might have been considered too fervent, or rather too intru- sive. He may have been forbidden to enter there; and if that is the case, you cannot blame him for obedience to a command so peremptory." Agatha was confounded, and somewhat tremulously uttered — " I am certain that I did not prohibit his going there ; and you speak Jessy, as if you had a knowledge who had.*' '* I have," answered Mrs. Russel; "it was your husband." " My husband I" cried Agatha, in the most profound astonishment, and betraying at the same moment a most mortified sensation of deep regret, at receiving a communication which she so little expected. '^ My husband !" repeated she. " Did Wolf really tell you that it was Lord Montague who forbid him the nur- sery ?" '* How else should I have been informed, my dearest friend ?" answered Jessy. " But wherefore are you thus agitated ?" " Because I not only blush, but am deeply grieved at Lord Montague's betraying so great a mark of weak- ness and folly," exclaimed Agatha. *' He is my hus- band, but I am not blind to his faults, though none more 320 THE FISHKR*S DAtJGttTEK. highly appreciates his virtues. He is jealous of this youth, because he is strongly attached to my infant." " Or rather, because he fears he is strongly attached to the infant's mother," uttered Jessy, with a look that could not be misinterpreted ; and Agatha involuntarily exclaimed — " Impossible, Jessy I so base a thought could not enter his imagination. There is no cause for jealousy. Ko— no, my husband is above so mean a passion. Jessy, you wrong my Montague by such a supposi- tion.'' " Would to heaven that I did so," uttered Jessy, with a sigh ; " but it is too palpable, my dear friend, that your husband is indeed inflamed with jealousy to- wards poor Wolf, and that he disapproves of the slight- est favour conferred on him by you ; and, pardon me dearest Agatha, if the confidence and friendship with which you honour me, and which has so long subsisted between us, gives me a dear and tender title, to impart to you without reserve or fastidious ceremony, my most secret thoughts. But indeed— indeed you cannot be too cautious in your conduct towards this unhappy young man." The lovely cheek of Agatha was tinged with a colour of the brightest crimson ; and with a half reproachful look for the first time in her life towards Jessy, she indignantly exclaimed — "And who has dared to call my conduct in question respecting Wolf, towards whom I have been uniformly kind ? It is the affection of a sister that I cherish to- wards him ; and while he merits that affection, there is THE fisher's daughter. 321 nothing earthly shall deprive him of it. I say, while he merits that affection, Jessy, that chaste affection shall continue undiminished to the end of my exist- ence; and that though I hold my husband's love dearer than the breath of life, yet not even for him would I relinquish the good opinion I have of Wolf, till it can be proved, incontestably proved, that he is no longer worthy of it. But why do you call Wolf unhappy, Jessy? I see no cause that be has for unhappiness whatever; on the contrary, a bright star waves at pre- sent over his youthful head, and will no doubt lead him on to fortune and to fame ; and I see no cause for the unhappiness of which you speak. My father thinks highly of Wolf's abilities, and my father is the avowed patron of genius, and will never desert those uho con- fidently look up to him for protection.*' Jessy's little girl at this precise moment occasioned some slight interruption in the conversation of the fair friends; and little Orlando, who had for the last half hour been consigned to the arms of Jessy's nurse, bad fallen fast asleep, and was laid in the cradle of the Fisher's Daughter, perfectly unconscious of the high post of honour which had been assigned to him by the niother of the little stranger. " My dearest Agatha, if I called Wolf unhappy," uttered Jessy, " I did not mean to say that it had any thing to do with his prospects in life, though probably it will colour every future day of his existence." " You speak in parables, Jessy. Why do you not ex- plain more fully the nature of your thoughts, that I may more perfectly understand them?" cried Agatha; bU s s 322 THK fisher's OAUGHTKR. a deeper blush than befm'e mantling her fan* cheek. To which Jessy replied — *• I will no longer speak in pai-ables, if you will for- give what I am going to say." " Say on,'* uttered Agatha, " and you shall have my forgiveness afterwards, if indeed Jessy finds it neces- sary to ask it of Agatha." And Jessy immediately informed Lady Montault of the unhappy passion with which Wolf was inspired for her, and of the urgent necessity there now was of keep- ing him at a most profound distance, till the period should arrive when he would be called upon to em- brace his professional career. At which Agatha ex- pressed to Jessy her deepest regret at the knowledge of such a circumstance^ though she could not censure her amiable friend for thus confidently imparting it to her; and determined that her conduct should be guided by it in every particular, respecting an object whom she must now learn to treat with sensations very far different to what she had ever done before, she ex^ claimed with a pensive and involuntary sigh — " Poor Wolf I the happy joyous days of thy boyhood are now over, the sweet smiling innocence of which will return no more, and thy young heart has now hopes with which it never glowed, and fears with which it never trembled before. It is a strange guest that thou hast admitted there, and nought but misery can mark its progress, and spread a ruin around thy devoted head." " I grieve, my dear Agatha, that I have inflicted pain on your gentle feelings," uttered the affectionate Jessy; " but I could not suffer you to remain in ignorance of THE fisher's daughter. 328 Wolf'i; unhappy passion, when once he revealed it to nie. It was necessary that you should know it, to pre- vent the consequences that might have resulted from it, had you still continued to bestow those marks of kindness on this youth, in the supposition that he could feel only abrother's love for you ; and I resolved even to risk your displeasure, rather than not have made you acquainted with the conversation that ])assed between us. I have done my duty to my friend. I have consulted her happiness, her peace, her honour, which was far dearer to me than any earthly consideration ; and it was better to give you pain now, than to see you suffering it hereafter." An affectionate embrace was the only reply that Agatha was able to make at this precise moment to her beloved Jessy, but her eloquent looks spoke vo- lumes ; and when she arose to take her leave, she pressed the babe in her arms, that she felt she could be a mother to if it had not one. " I protest that Orlando is stretching out his arms towards your little girl, Jessy," cried Agatha. *' There, he wants to kiss her. [ wondei' whether the boy does this by instinct or not?'* Jessy smiled. ■ *^ It would be a dangerous instinct for a Fisher's Daughter, if he was to continue it," uttered she. " And dangerous for Orlando too, I think," answer- ed Agatha, " if she continues to grow into woman- hood with all this beauty about her. My boy would have little chance of escaping from the shafts of Cupid, were that to be the case with the Fisher's Daughter, I am certain." 324 THE fisher's daughter. "' She is certainly a very striking likeness of my poor siater Olive,'* uttered Jessy. " Yes, her features have the same cast of beauty," answered Agatha," but their expression is quite differ^ enU Olive was unquestionably beautiful, that is, every feature possessed perfect regularity; still there was something w^anting, Jessy, and that was the want of expression, without which beauty may attract the eye, but it fails in making an expression on the heart. We admire the colour of the butterfly, you know 3 it is beautiful, but when once it is out of our sight we for- get that and its colours too, but we do not forget those easily that make an impression on the memory." Jessy entreated that her most grateful acknowledg- ments might be presented to Lord Montague Montault, for his very liberal gift to her child, and promised her lovely friend that she would embrace the earliest op- portunity that was possible, to speak lo her father re- specting the request of tiie departed Caj)tain Single- ton, and that there was not a doubt but she wo»ld be enabled to succeed, in having her little girl baptized by the name of Matilda. '^ He cannot, will not object to it, I am certain, my dear friend," uttered Jessy, as she most affectionately bade Lady Montault farewell ; *' it is the least compli- ment he can pay to the memory of so excellent a man, who in his last moments evinced such generous marks of disinterested friendship for us all." " Well, in a few days you will be able to take an airing with me, my dear Jessy," cried Agatha. "I will come the] first very fine njorning, and steal you away from Mr. Russel for a few hours, baby and all. 1 as- THB FISHER*S DAUGHTER. 325 sure you I have given my husband and my father such an account of the extraordinary beauty of the Fisher*s Daughter, that they are exceedingly anxious to behold it." With these words Lady Montault, with her little son sleeping in her arms, was carefully handed to her carriage by honest Samuel, who felt not a little proud of the confidence and friendship with which his Jessy was so highly honoured by the lovely wife of Lord Montague Montault and the wealthy heiress of Bra- gauza. The passion he once felt for her when she was the supposed orphan daughter of Captain Single- ton had long been changed to a cool and quiet tem- perature, her exalted station placing her in a sphere for ever at a distance of again approaching her in the character of a suitor. Besides, he really loved Jessy, whose amiable and gentle sweetness of disposition, added to the simplicity and artless graces of her fair form, very soon made that impression on honest Sa- muel, that nothing but pure and honourable love could inspire for a woman that he wished to make his wife; for its basis was virtue, and the most perfect confi- dence and esteem. There was not a doubt therefore of the happiness that subsisted between two objects every way so congenial to each other, now augmented by the birth of their child ; for without a perfect uni- son of hearts, and congeniality of disposition, there is no marriage in this earthly state of existence can long continue to be either happy or prosperous. But to j)roceed. During the absence of his lovely lady, Lord Montague determined to avail himself of an opportunity of being reconciled to the ofiended Wolf, 326 THE fisher's daughtkr. in a way that would not be derogatory to the feelings of either; and no sooner was Lady Agatha's carriage out of sight of Violet Vale, than his lordship sent a message to Lawrence, to say that he would be glad to see his pupil for a few moments, if it was no interrup- tion to his studies ; and Lawrence having communi- cated the message of Lord Montague to Wolf, he in- dignantly replied — " 1 will certainly attend his lordship, because I can- not well dispute his authority, without giving offence to my noble and august patron the Duke of Braganza^ otherwise no earthly power should compel me to yield submission to Lord Montague Montault/* " Young man^-young man ! you are too warm. I must correct your impetuosity,'* answered Lawrence, at the same instant that he could scarcely conceal his admiration of the undaunted spirit and energy which brightened every intelligent feature of this uiicommouly prepossessing youth. *' Sir, you have a right to correct me when I am in error,** answered Wolf; " and I have ever submitted to your judgment; have not I ?" " I cannot reasonably deny your assertion," answered Lawrence; ^' still I must remind you of an impropriety, when I see you committing one contrary to that judg- ment which you appear so highly to respect. My dear boy, you must learn circumspection, the most difficult, although it is the must useful lesson that youth can acquire in their journey through life. If you dislike Lord Montague, keep the knowledge of it to yourself, at all events while you are under this roof. You must not forget that he is the son-in-law of that illustrious and THE fisher'* daughter. 327 excellent man, to whom you owe eternal gratitude for the protection he has afforded you. 1 do not know why you should dislike Lord Montague, nor do I seek to enquire. It is not my province to worm your secrets, though you are my pupil; but I must suggest to you, that it is extremely indecorous, Mr. Wolf, for a youth of your age to be forming dislikes, and conceiving prejudices against any personage or personages what- ever, in which your judgment is so liable to be mis- taken ; and it is the great regard I have for you, Mr. Wolf, that makes me tell you of faults which may be 80 easily corrected." The tutor paused to see what effect this salutary ad- vice had upon the mind of his pupil ; and lifting up hi» eyes towards him, beheld the face of Wolf bathed with tears. At length he made an effort to recover his self- possession and wonted energy of character, and grasping the hand of Lawrence, pressed it with ardour to his lips ; looked what expression had denied to him, and hurried out of the room, to attend the summons of Lord Mon- tague Montault. 328 iHE fishkr's daughter. CHAPTER XIV. ** Be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow. Thou shalt not escape calumny," Shakspearb. Theue is a blush of innocence very different to that which rises np in judgment on the really guilty cheek, but which too frequently is mistaken for its opposite, and which few, so judging from external appearance, ever form so correct opinion of, because it is generally under false impressions that it is made. When Wolf found himself in the presence of Lord Montault, his complexion had certainly assumed a colour of the most glowing tints ; from a reflection, it is presumed, that it was the husband of Lady Agatha in whose presence he now stood, and towards whom he felt the most unconquerable dislike, if it did not immediately amount to hatred. " Lord Montague Montault, I attend your sum- mons," uttered Wolf, as soon as he advanced to the centre of the room, where his lordship was seated at a table, with books and materials for writing before him, and apparently deeply engaged in the most pro- found meditation, from which he was suddenly aroused by the tone and dignified manner of the intrepid Wolf, THE fisher's daughter. 329 who, feeling that nothing could be adduced against him, either derogatory to his character or bis princi- ples, preserved a self-possession, and a consciousness of innocence, which it was utterly impossible for any human being to deprive him of; and it was not without an expression of something like mortification that Lord Montague, pointing to a chair, bade him be seated. After an apparent struggle, his lordship addressed him in the following words: — ** Wolf, when I parted from you last, it was under the influence of a momentary anger, not immediately the effect of any action of yours that had in any degree merited my displeasure, but actually proceeding from an involuntary weakness of my own intemperate folly, which I blush to confess has of late too frequently in- fused itself into my mind, and embittered all the sweets of my too happy and transported lot, in being husband to one of the most faultless and loveliest of women. All men have infirmities of disposition, as well as in- firmities of body. Wolf; but few men have the courage to acknowledge it, but would rather adopt pride as a subterfuge to conceal defects, which only expose them to detection while they seek to hide them. 1 spoke to you in this very intemperate heat of passion that I de- scribe ; but I no sooner became sensible of my folly, than I felt deeply grieved for having wounded your feelings, and now seek this opportunity of being re- conciled to you. A confession of error, you know, not only paves the way for amendment, but renders the culprit amenable to mercy. Wolf, there is a noble- ness of nature in you, that urged me to throw myself openly upon your confidence, rather than meanly dis- c 14 T T 330 THE fisher's daughter. guise the sentiments of a heart which, with all its hasty follies, would never wantonly sport with the feelings of another, much less be at warfare with my fellow creatures. Let us then in future be friends with each other.'* Wolf, who had hitherto preserved rather somewhat of an indignant silence than a respectful one, was in- stantly subdued by such a frank and ingenuous confes- sion from Lord Montague, which, being wholly unpre- pared to expect, for a moment utterly confounded him, and made him feel more embarrassed than if his lord- ship had certainly not made such a confession; and perceiving that he was waiting for his reply, he ut- tered— " My lord, to me do you think it necessary to make such apology? believe me there is none due. lever must respect the husband of the Lady Agatha, whom, if f have approached with a bolder licence than be- comes my humble and obscure state, was from igno- rance rather than fault; for, by the light of heaven,^ She was the first of womankind I ever bowed or bend- ed to, or ever hailed (pardon me my lord) with admi- ration ; for most hideous was the female in the Black Forest, and I saw no other, conversed with no other. She taught me ferocity instead of the milder virtues of her sex ; and thus, untutored in the Black Forest, 1 left the rude and savage beings with whom I had been cradled in my infancy, when the rough tempest threw me on this coast, shipwrecked, and nearly lifeless. What were my sensations, when such a being as Lady Agatha met my view ? Wildly I gazed in speechless wonder and profound astonishment, for I never had THK fisher's daughter. 581 seen the like before ; and when I heai'd her voice, I could not believe but it was some angel, and I asked my brother Alfred if such the lady was. Still I was savage, arid the fisher could not tame me ; none had the power to soften me, for I was wild, and would oft have been severely punished, but for the intercession of the Lady Agatha. Wonder you then, my lord, that I worshipped the shrine of this only being who had ever shed a ray of pity on poor friendless Wolf, and that with riper years I have become insensible to the voice of gratitude to my kind instructress ? No — no—no ! condemn me not ! spurn me, my lord I tear out my heart, and you will yet leave her image here; the tute- lary angel that taught my savage mind to feel and know myself a man; and that same power which taught me that, now bids me boldly tell you, that Wolf will never disgrace, or prove himself unworthy of the friend- ship of his noble patrons." What could a man say to such a noble acknowledg- ment from a youth so spirited, and yet so evidently the child of nature and of truth ? For there was not only truth to recommend the simple tale he had related, why be felt towards Lady Agatha such veneration ; but there was conviction without a default on either side of the question ; and as Lord Montault gazed on the fine open brow, and souUspeaking countenance of the in- nocent youth before him, he divested himself of that mean and inglorious base passion which had un- manned him, and caused him to betray such marks of weakness and of folly. And virtue had its triumph. Where no other passion could erase its firm impres- THB FISHER S DAUGHTER. sion_, there confidence in the affections of his lovely wife had never yet been shaken. It was only a sup- position that Wolf loved her, which had occasioned him to experience all the inquietude he had ever felt ; and how noble and ingenuous had the confession oi Wolf been, why he had regarded Lady Agatha with the sentiment that he did ! And was there aught oi guilt in it ? No, guilt is ever concealed ; it never openly confesses itself, but avails itself of the mean and con- temptible subterfuges to avoid its detection; hut here were no such subterfuges, it was a plain round unvar- nished tale that Wolf had delivered ; and to doubt its assertion, was to disbelieve the existence of truth and nature. Here was no snake in the grass, that concealed its crested front beneath the flowery herbage, only to watch an hour insidiously to despoil it of its beauty. There was no libertine passion that lurked in imposing manners or address, no superior art that could gild the real deformity of vice under the semblance of virtue. What then had Lord Montague to fear from such a sentiment as this noble youth had expressed for his lovely wife? No man of honour could suspect the purity of such a sentiment, which was supported by such an open avowal of candour, simplicity, and truth; and immediately dismissing from his mind every sha- dow of doubt or apprehension, he extended his hand to Wolf, with the undisguised grasp of friendship and confidence; and while a glistening tear of sensibility shone in the fine intelligent eyes of the amiable youth, whole feelings had been powerfully affected by this un- THE fisher's daughter. 333 expected interview with the husband of the Lady Aga- tha, they were at this precise moment interrupted by the presence of his Grace the Duke of Braganza. " I hope I do not interrupt business/' uttered he, and smiled at the perplexity which appeared in the countenance of both the surprised parties, which in a few minutes was fully elucidated by Lord Montague, to the great satisfaction of the Duke ; and from this hour Wolf was reinstated, not only in the good opinion of his lordship, but in all the honours he had formerly enjoyed, in caressing his little favourite, and visiting him in the nursery, whenever an opportunity was granted to him by the nurse, or that Lady Agatha was absent ; and the sweet innocent, as if conscious of the pleasing change which had taken place, and that he was again noticed by his old friend, clapped his little hands whenever Wolf approached him with his former marks of kindness, and imperfectly expressed his joy- ous hilarity. Still there was a perceptible distance in the manner and even looks of Lady Agatha towards her favourite, which, though neither cold or affectedly reserved, were marked with the most delicate and graceful propriety, and which Wolf was but too conscious of the cause of, yet could not suflficiently admire, although it may pro- bably be guessed, that, under any other circumstances than the existing ones, would have inflicted on his too sensitive and feeling bosom, a pang of the most unut- terable despair, and keen felt anguish. In the meanwhile the Lady Agatha, who had been seriously alarmed, as well as excessively grieved at the communications of her friend Jessy, respecting the ill 334 THE fisher's daughter. placed and unfortunate attachment of poor Wolf, shud- dered at the consequences which would result from it, were it ever to be really discoverable to her husband, and determined her for ever afterwards most religiously to adopt but one manner and but one language towards this young man while he remained beneath her roof; much less did she ever converse with her husband about him, or yet seem studiously to avoid it. Thus did this lovely, pure, faultless, and inestimable creature, by this delicate and praiseworthy conduct, by almost imper- ceptible degrees, crush that insidious enemy that as- sailed the peace of her beloved Montague, and embit- tered their hours of sweetest repose. Even the Mar- chioness was completely silenced in her severe and sarcastic observations, and her malicious purpose of exciting the jealous fears of her son against the con- duct of his angelic wife were defeated. The approaching nuptials of Lady Lavinia and Lord Winstone were now publicly talked of, and the most splendid preparations for that important event were beginning to take place at the Castle of Montault, un- der the auspices of the Marchioness, whose ambitious pride had now an additional zest, by the increased ag- grandizement of her family, irt so advantageous a match for her youthful daughter, who was so shortly to be- icome a blazing star in the hemisphere of fashion. Meanwhile, under the immediate instructions of beautiful mamma, Lady Lavinia gave herself the most consummate airs of consequence, ill befitting the state of which she was to form a member, and totally un- prepared either for the tender or the sacred duties which were allied to it. It was sufficient for her that THB fisher's daughter. 335 she wa8 going to be married, and that her husband was a lord, young, handsome, and splendidly wealthy, and that she herself would be the object of an admiring throng, for the exclusive affections of her lover. Lady Lavinia was actually as cold and as indifferent as if she had never heard, much less felt the influence of the belle passion, which had never agitated her bosom for a single moment ; and Lord Winstone, or lord any- body else, would have been equally the object of her regard, if he had equally been the favourite of fortune. On a marriage formed on such a basis, was it mo- rally possible to suppose that the attachment could be lasting, constant, or sincere, or that much happiness could succeed the honey moon ? But why had Lord Winstone selected such a female as Lady Lavinia, when so many others, both of intellect and feeling, presented themselves to his notice, and of superior beauty ? But the fact is, that Lord Winstone being disappointed of succeeding in his attempts on the person of the beauti- ful daughter of Captain Singleton, was, like all other men, regardless of the next object that came in his pursuit. Agatha was lost to him for ever ; to her he would have been the most faithful worshipper that ever bowed to the shrine of beauty ; and in the dissipated haunts of fashion, he endeavoured, by every means in his power, to banish her lovely image hence. He had unfortunately staked large sums with the Marchioness of Montault, and had frequently been her debtor, which, though he could at any time dis- charge, yet the wily Marchioness from time to time ever chose to avoid ; and for motives best known to 336 THE FfSHER*S DAUGHTER. herself, placed her young and lovely daughter ever in his view. Instructed in the art of pleasing by beautiful mamma. Lord Winstone always found Lady Lavinia seated in the place of her mother, and whenever she lost, would always exclaim— " Never mind, my lord, mamma will pay you, for I am only sitting to play her cards while she is absent." Then at other times Lady Lavinia would be more fortunate, and win considerable sums of his lordship, which at the moment he was quite unprepared to dis- charge. Such are the effects of gambling, even in the society of the good and the great, the splendid and the wealthy ; they are all of equality when they are placed in a situation so subordinate, whether they are cobiers or princes. Then her ladyship would exclaim, putting on one of her most fascinating smiles, and arrayed in youth and beauty : — " You have lost my lord, but that is of no conse- quence. You are not indebted to me, but to mamma. They are not my cards with which I won the last stake, but mamma's. You must pay it to her, not to me.'* In short. Lady Lavinia played her cards so well by the direction of beautiful mamma, that Lord Winstone, always meeting so young and lovely an antagonist, fell into the trap which the wily Marchioness had laid for him; and from the game of dice, fell into a much more conclusive, if not a more dangerous one, that of the snares of Cupid. He thought the youthful daugh- ter of the Marchioness excessively pretty; and the mark of simplicity she always assumed towards him. THE fishbr's daughter. 337 made the infatuated Earl also^believe she was the child of nature. At first he looked at her with this picture ; in the next she was the daughter of the Marquis of Montault^ a name so deservedly held up to public es timation, that no stain or blemish ever yet appeared to sully the illustrious ancestors from whom this noble- man had descended ; for the nefarious actions of the late Duchess of Braganza were not intimately known to Lord Winstone 5 it was a sort of hushed-up affair, a lullaby, only known to those employed to chaunt it over the remains of the deceased, for which they were so liberally rewarded, that they would declare to all who doubted the purity of the immaculate lady, that she was a perfect saint, gone to meet her kindred sister angels in the skies. So much for bribery and corruption, when allied to exalted station and to exalted wealth. The Duchess of Braganza descended to the grave in a coffin of the richest crimson and gold, and a hearse drawn by eight horses, as richly caparisoned with plumes of nodding feathers and armorial bearings, that extended to a considerable distance from the pompous procession that stalked before, to tell the world whose remains they had the honour of carrying to their last earthly tenement, and last earthly greatness. *' The Dutchess of Braganza !" was echoed from the surrounding multitude. "What a grand procession, and what a beautiful coffin, and what a number of car- riages!** was repeated in gaping astonishment by the infatuated mob. Alas ! that such should be the food only of worms, which will destroy it as soon as the unhonoured heads of a 15 u u 338 THE fisher's daughter, the poor and the unfortunate, who lay mouldering be- neath a heap of humble turf, without a stone to mark their place of rest. But the Duchess of Braganza ! a marble monument, with sculptured and emblazoned ornaments, and eulogy of verse, hangs o'er the tomb which embodies her all of earthly remains ; and a splen- did escutcheon, placed on the vaulted roof of Mon- tault Castle, proclaims to the passing traveller, that she who once possessed these magnificent domains is no more. All that grandeur and wealth could effect has been done to invite the eye to gaze at the gilded trap^ pings of empty greatness, but it can do no more : could even these speak, they would relate a tale of horror, too terrific for the pageantry of show, or idle pomp to palliate. — The murderess ! — the scurrilous monster in a female shape ! — the inhuman mother ! — and the dissem- bling, false, perfidious destroyer of smiling innocence, love, and beauty ! — This would it tell ! and what then would gilded pomp avail ? If the foul actions of inglorious great ones were thus inscribed upon the painted sepulchres which con- tain their ashes, no longer would the eye gaze with wonder, but abhorrent turn from the mockery of woe. But with the blandishments of a young and fashion- able beauty, was the eye, not the heart of Lord Winstone caught. It remained for his lordship, in his cooler moments of reflection, to find out the deception which both mother and daughter had practised on him, when no human means could remedy the evil. At present nothing was thought of but matrimony, and the pleasures which succeed it; what splendid de- corations, and what costly dresses would best become THB fisher's daughter. 339 the youthful bride, while the editois of the newspa- pers found plenty of fuel for their fire, by cramming down the throats of the public what they generally deal in — egregious falsehoods. Some of them in long paragraphs proclaimed the beauty and the accomplishments of Lady Lavinia to be of the most extraordinary kind, while others labour- ed hard to extol the qualities of Lord Winstone. " Newspaper fame is nothing/' cried Lady Gadabout, to about half a dozen belles who were full of fashion- able news. It is all a fudge about the beauty of Lady Lavinia Montault. I protest that she has not one to- lerable feature in her whole face but her mouth, and that is frightfully large when she opens it/* " And her eyes are perfectly a la grimalkin,*' ut- tered one of the party. " Did you never observe the colour of Lady Lavinia's eyes, my dear friend ? They are positively between green and grey, yet are not di- rectly either. Then her hair is carotty; what is so hideous as red hair?" " But that is certainly made up by her complexion," cried a third. " She is beautifully, nay she is trans- tendantly fair ; and a la bloom of roses whenever I have seen her ladyship taking an airing for healthful exercises with the Marchioness. She was in an open carriage yesterday with Lord Winstone, and I assure you that her appearance excited general ad- miration." These observations in favour of the so greatly envied object, enraged the feelings of the scandalous party there assembled, insomuch that they could with diffi- culty suppress the mortification they had received from 340 TH>B fisher's daughter. the account that Miss Plainway had given of the young and fashionable beauty, whom, however, they one and all flatly contradicted. '^ Well, I protest Miss Plainway," uttered Lady Gad- about, ** clever as I ever thought you, I must now think your judgment barbarously defective, when you would make people adopt your opinion respecting the fairness of Lady Lavinia's complexion, when every body knows that she owes it to art and not to nature. Why, I can take ybu to the very shop where she pur- chases her bloom of roses, and her aromatic VA^hite- wash, in the Burlington Arcade, at Truefit's. I give you my word, my dear, I have reported nothing but the fact ; I like facts." ** And have no objection to comments whenever they happen to fall in your ladyship's way," answered Miss Plainway, by no means relishing the flat contradiction she had met with from Lady Gadabout ; and finding that the stream was going very rapidly against her, she sneeringly added, '' The Burlington Arcade ! O! I am as well acquainted with all the shops there, pos- sibly, as your ladyship. There is the pad shop, that most .ingeniously offers consolation to ladies who have long since lost their juvenility of figure and elegance of shape, by immediately supplying stuffings, or pads, as they are generally called, wherever a deficiency may be apparent. I did hear that your ladyship was a most liberal patronizer of this most useful and beautiful art, and that padding, in consequence of your ladyship's successful imitation at the last route at Lady Tanning- ton's, was become general." *' What the false bosoms you mean. Miss Plainway, THE fishbr's daughter. 341 don't you ? I protest I have heard of the whole affair, and how natural they appear," uttered Miss Scruple, an errant retailer of scandal, and one of the coterie that formed one of the principal members of the scandalous society, that frequented the house of Lady Gadabout. " Yet though they fitted some certain persons shapes almost to a nicety, I positively should feel quite asham- ed of practising so gross a deception on common de- cency." " Besides, if one should chance to meet with an ac- cident that might occasion a discovery," cried Miss Plainway, " crowded rooms are apt to make one faint- ish when they are excessively full. There is such a thing as unlacing tight stays, you know. Miss Scruple, and then if the bosom should be exposed" — " It would be a most unfortunate exhibition for the ingenious vender of the pads in the Burlington Ar- cade," answered the mischievous Miss Scruple, laugh- ing so immoderately, that Lady Gadabout, unable to defend herself against the whole army of assailants, which were directing volley after volley, to attack her on the weakest side, which was her j^ersonal vanity, like an experienced general, chose rather to retreat than surrender, or come to close quarters, when she would entirely lose the victory; and made her exit, leaving the false bosoms still a subject for the severe animadversions of the scandalous party she had not the courage to meet face to face on such an occasion. While scandal, love, and folly took their diur- nal course in the fashionable world, more sequestered enjoyments, and far more rational pleasures were the lot of Lord Montague and his lovely lady; and the 342 THE fisher's daughter. Duke was constantly a sharer in the increased happi- ness of his beloved daughter, who, with his young grandson, now formed the ne plus ultra of all his earthly wishes, fondest hopes, and pleasing expecta- tions. They were indeed the only ties which bound him to existence ; not that his Grace had not a thought to bestow on the welfare and happiness of others ; he was not so selfish ; and he determined that if the wanderings of Wolfweve attended wtth success, and the fortunes of Alfred prosperous, as he expectea they would be, from the united talents of both these exemplary and clever young men, that he would cer- tainly leave them ample means in their own power, to live independent of the frowns of the world, but that this intention in their favour should not be intimated to them, till their own efforts had succeeded in the several professions they had made choice of. Wolf, however, was so decidedly the favourite of his patron, from the striking traits of character that he had exhibited, that he was very often on the point of persuading him to relinquish his intention of following a military life, in the fear that so brilliant a flower might be nipt in the bud, ere its lovely blossom was half blown ; for there was danger in the field ; innume- rable difficulties and hardships attend a soldier's life. Yet why should he check the spirit of the fearless youth, or damp the ardour of his youthful breast. " No, let him go," mentally exclaimed the Duke. " Though I regard this youth with more affection than occasion warrants, yet I will not seek to detain him from the impulse of his bold and spirited disposition, if he falls, it is the hand of destiny that strikes the THE FISHKR*S DAUGHTER. 343 blow; for not a sparrow falls without the interpositicm of Almighty Providence, nor yet a flower, arrayed in its pearly bloom, that owes not its fragrance and its beauty to the pure atmosphere and genial smile of all • delighted heaven." These were the reflections made by the Duke of Braganza^ in his moments of profound meditation with respect to Wolf; but they were not disclosed to any other person, nor did he wish Wolf to suppose that he was a greater favourite with him than his brother Al fred, and consequently did not take so much notice of him in public as in private; notwithstanding which, however, he delighted in hearing the praises of Wolf resounded from the mouth of his tutor, who neglected no opportunity of displaying the abilities of a youth, who reflected so much credit to his instructions, and whose promise of talent seemed to afford the senten- tious Lawrence so much gratification. Now Lawrence had an additional zest for admiring each day new qualities in his pupil, and that was, be- cause he had written some complimentary lines on a sect to which he had formerly belonged, and from which he had first sprung — the quakers. In short, Lawrence had dwelt so much upon the perfections of his sister Anne, in the relation he gave to Wolf of his family history, parentage, birth, and education, in all of which his fair quaker sister had made so prominent a part, that Wolf on the ensuing day presented his tu- tor with the following tribute of respect to the memory of the young sister Anne, whose gentle virtues, and simplicity of character, had taught Emanuel her bro- 344 THE fisher's daughter. ther to repeat them with such enthusiastic affectron. A copy of which we translate for the curiosity of our fair readers, to whom such gentle virtues, whether they are quakers or not quakers, very deservedly belong. Sister Anne, the Quaker Beauty. ** Fair Quaker Beauty, flush'd and hale. Thou art like the hedge-rose of the vale. Whose fragrance scents the vernal gale. Oh ever placid ! O'er thy sweet face no frowns prevail,, From passions acid. Thine's the ever smiling eye, Benignant fair 1 and pity's sigh j Sefene as orient summer's sky. Thy soul is ever ; And peace, soft pet lamb, ever nigh,^ Thy breast leaves never. Thy soul like twilight's hour appears, Ere Sol has kiss'd the dewy tears From earth's sad cheeks ; ere yet he cheera With golden light. Meek twilight hour, that endears. More soft than bright. Thou wavest in plainness through the throng. As through the sky some bird of song, To whom no gauds or dues belong. In homely plumes. Whose claim to admiration strong,. Yet ne'er presumes. The sunshine of thy breast's thy treasure ; As through gilt skies of white and azure. Thus swims the dove in guileless pleasure. Thou movest in mildness ; A stranger thou to passion's measure, And metecr wildness. THE FISHBR^S DAUGHTER. 545 Tby looks are lovely, passiug praise ; Thy form of reverence displays A vestrg^e of the ancieut days, The charm of nature. The trick of art, Anne, ne'er array* Thy form or feature. Thou art no sparkler, but thou art on« Sweet as the summer's setting sun, No gem whose bright reflections run j But thou art a pearl Facily clear ; no blaze to shun. But nature's girl. No nymph of earth, or skies, or maiu, But a young English woman plain, A virgin of the simple train. The train of friends ; Though lovely as a sylph, not vain, Who darns and mends ; Who takes u<> shame, but in her heart Loves to play the housewife's part, The duteous child's, the nurse's art, In suffering hour. By gentlest soothing blunt death's dart With all her power. Thy sister maids ray heart admires. Like Cambrian girls of farthest shires. Simplicity and truth are theirs. My countrywomen. True to husbands, brothers, sires. Loved of freemen. Samples primitive of neatness, Artlessness and youthful sweetness. Innocence and every fitness. For man's pure bride. Oh, cold's the heart of haughty greatness. Who such deride ! 6 15 XX 345 THE FISHER S DAUGHTER. To me the gentle people stand. The best and wisest of the land, The foes of strife, dear concord's band. May heaven bless ye ! May power's demon guided wand Ne'er fall to oppress ye. CHAPTER XV. " Th€ evening gale sweeps over the rich tufts Of clustering orange buds, and wafts perfume Like incense round me ; fair, and still, and calm. The moon-light sleeps on yon translucent wall. And the Acacia's wreathing flowers have bow'd Their graceful heads to kiss the silv'ry flood. How tranquil, and how beautiful the hour '. No sound breaks the luxurious silence. Save the soft tinkle of the wild guitar. Waking at distance its fond serenade ; And the rich swell of music from the song Of the blythe goat-herd, or the muleteer. Brought by the mountain echoes ; Yet the scene so fraught with bliss, To me seems dull without My bosom's lord. I-ORD Byrow. The very first opportunity that Jessy could avail her- self of when she was alone with her father, was fully to disclose to him the last request of the dying Captain THB FISHER*S DAV6HTBR. 34/ ShigletOD, that her child was to have the Dame of the Lady St. Clair, which request had also been seconded by the earnest solicitation of the Lady Agatha Mon- taalt. Nor did the grateful Jessy neglect to inform him of the liberal donation she had received for her infant daughter from the hands of Lord Montault, add- ing, with her usual tone of placidity and sweetness, at the same time that Peter was fully supplied with pipes and tobacco, and a flowing bumper of grog, and Sam had planted himself close by his side, in order to bring him round to the point they wished to accomplish — " Now, father, what is to be done in the business ? I am unwilling to refuse this request of Captain Single- ton, that, poor man, he made when he was dying ; and 1 am sure he has acted most liberally towards us, iu leaving such marks of his generosity in his last will and testament, and yet both Samuel and I are equally un- willing to act contrary to the wishes of my dear father. It remains therefore with you to decide, whether your little grand-daughter is to receive the name of Peggy, or be baptized by that of Matilda, according to the re- quest of poor Captain Singleton." A silence of some minutes succeeded to this duteous and affectionate speech of the amiable Jessy, during which the fisher had sustained some conflict with his feelings, and several puflfs of his pipe were given with additional force. He had set his heart on the little girl being called Peggy, and it was very well knowm how little he could bear contradiction when it came in contact with his favourite propensities ; and a storm was beginning to rise as usual over his sun-burnt brow, when the mild image of the departed Captain swam 348 THE fisher's DAUGHTER. across his imagination, and softened the violence of contending passions. He had bequeathed two thou* sand pounds to him and Jessy, when it was not ex- pected that he would have bestowed the slightest me- morandum of his regard ; and though it was a bequest of which neither he or his daughter stood in need, yet that consideration did not make the gift of the ge- nerous donor the less acceptable, or his intention less kind. All this passed in the mind of the fisher before he would answer one word to Jessy's mild interroga- tory and affectionate appeal to his feelings. At length laying down his pipe, he looked her full in the face, and exclaimed — ^' No, dang it Jess if I can make up my mind to be ungrateful. What though the Captain be laid under hatches, it shall never be said that Peter Blust were ungrateful to the memory of as good and as honest a man as ever broke bread. No, I'll stick to that point of the compass while I do breathe the breath of life. For certain sure I did set my mind on Peggy for the little round faced dumpling there, because it was the name of thy mother, child. But no matter, it don't signify one rope's yarn what the girl be called ; so, shi- ver my topsails, let it be this long what d'ye call 'em name if you please, only don't say no more about it, that's a good wench, but let the business be done in a crack." '* Whenever you please, dearest father," uttered Jessy, exchanging looks with Samuel of the most sa- tisfactory kind, and heartily rejoicing that she had accomplished a point in which she expected a total failure of success. " The child shall be christened to- THE fisher's daughter. 349 morrow if you have no objection ; for who do you think are to stand sponsers on the occasion ? Lord and Lady Montault are actually going to be godfather and godmother to my little mopsey.'* " Be they though ?" cried Peter, his features bright- ening into a smile of undisguised pleasure. " Well, that be kind and civil after all. Come, come, that be bringing up sail, and getting into safe moorings, after rough seas and heavy squalls. I say Sam, thee must overhaul the lockers at Herring Dale ; there be some lightish wine there, my lad, and a few kegs of brandy. The smugglers for that ! dost thee remember lad, how the poor devils scudded before the wind the night we sacked them ?" " Yes, sir, and I also remember that when they begged for mercy, you promised never to betray them,*' cried Samuel. " And did I ?" vociferated Peter. " No, shiver my topsails, I would have suffered a rope to be twisted round my neck first. When a man gives up his pro- perty, and throws himself on the protection of another, he must have a heart of flint, who would treacherously betray the confidence he has reposed in him." Samuel could not dissent from his father-in-law's benevolent sentiments ; and it being perfectly under- stood by Jessy, that the fisher had given his full con- sent for the christening of her infant daughter, a note, couched in the most respectful and affectionate terms, was written hy Jessy, and sent to Violet Vale, to in- form Lord Montague and Lady Montault that such was her intention, and soliciting the honour of their presence on tlie occasion. It arrived during a morn- 350 THE FISHER*S DAUGHTEK. ing visit of tiie Marchioness and Lady Lavinia, whose nuptials with Lord Winstone were to take place at only the distant period of two days. The former exclaimed, after hearing the contents of Jessy's note, which Aga- tha read aloud to her husband : — " Impossible, Montague ! You surely cannot seri- ously intend any thing so absurdly ridiculous. Spon- ser for the Fisher's Daughter!" To which Lord Montague, viewing the cheeks of his lovely wife suffused with a colour of the brightest crim- son, coolly replied — " I certainly do intend seriously to stand sponser for the Fisher's Daughter, notwithstanding the absurdity or the ridicule which your ladyship may please to at- tach to it. I, for my own part, think it the most natu- ral conclusion possible." To which the Marquis, looking indignantly toward his lady, immediately made reply — " But your mother, Montague, always attempts to render every thing ridiculous, which is not of her own immediate planning and contrivance." *' Indeed, Marquis!" uttered her ladyship, with a sneer, " what wonderful sagacity you are gifted with, to discover that which no one can discriminate besides. Still I shall not forego my opinion in order to please your caprice or any one else, and again repeat the ab^ surdity of Lord Montault standing godfather to the Fisher's Daughter. However, it certainly does not concern me, as my inclinations were never consulted in the affair. The objects are totally beneath my no- tice, to enter into any contention about them. Come, Lavinia ! child, it is time for us to go to Adams's. THE FISHER*S J>AUGHTER. 351 There is a raffle, you know, and both our names are down, at the express desire of niy Lord Winstone, who is waiting there to conduct us to the public rooms, and he will be quite impatient for our arrival." Agatha, who had sustained some struggle with her feelings, to remain neutral on the subject which had occasioned the Marchioness such displeasure, never once forgot, however, the respect which was due to the mother of her husband, and arose from her chair, in order to adjust her ladyship's scarf, as she haughtily desired that her carriage might be called ; and this was done with such an air of mildness by her daughter-m- law, that it was morally impossible to exercise any re- sentment that she would otherwise have felt towards her. *' Will your ladyship take any refreshment before you go the rooms?" timidly demanded Agatha, " No, child, we breakfasted late;" was the reply of the Marchioness, who, however, had softened the as- perity of her manner, as she bade Agatha good morn- ing j and nodding somewhat coldly to Lord Montague, who was in earnest conversation with his father, she made her exit, without condescending to bestow one look at the Marquis, who had greatly offended her by the support he had given to her son; and no sooner was her ladyship seated in the carriage with Lady Lavinia, than she burst forth in the following exclamation : — '^ Did you ever hear of any thing half so ridiculous, Lavinia, as Montague's standing godfather to the fisher's little brat ?" '' Oh never mamma ! I protest I was quite shocked 352 THE fisher's daughter. when I heard my brother mention such a thing; and papa was as bad to encourage him in it." ** Your father is actually grown a perfect savage/*^ reiterated the Marchioness. " Since he has been so frequent a visitor at Vioht Vale, he has acquired all the monkish notions of your grave and sentimental cousin ; positively that girl has infected the whole fa- mily with her horrible ideas.'* " Yes, it is all her fault, that you may be certain of," answered the fashionable beauty. " I am sure my brother would never have thought of degrading him- self so much, if Agatha had not persuaded bim to stand godfather for the Fisher's Daughter; she has such uncommon propensities of encouraging such low- born illiterate creatures." " So she has my love," uttered the Marchioness, de- lighted that she had now a full opportunity of indulg- ing her spleen. " I have frequently remarked that it is the society that she likes best. I protest I should not wonder if hereafter this Irttle animal, when it can walk about and chatter, will be invited to Violet Vale, to be a companion for Lord Orlando, who will m pro- cess of time become attached to the little minx. A very pretty connection truly for Lady Agatha to form for the son of Lord Montague Montault, and the grandson of the Duke of Braganza." *^ And they say the child is so uncommonly beauti- ful," cried Lady Lavinia. " Agatha was giving me a description of it only this morning." *' A description of her fool's head," uttered the Mar- chioness. " Was there ever any thing so preposte- rously absurd, as to be launching forth in praise of the THE fisher's daughter. 353 beauty of an infant of only a few weeks old ? How- ever, let her go on with this pretty romantic farce ; I have a shrewd notion that your brother will have cause to repent of his folly when it is too late. Good hea- vens ! are not the most imprudent connections formed by this dangerous system, that of bringing males and females together, till they become imperceptibly at- tached to each other ? Yes, yes, I have my prophe- cies, and they are generally fatal/* " Yes, beautiful mamma, you was always a prophe- tess," uttered Lady Lavinia. At this precise moment the carriage stopt at the door of Adams's library. Lady Lavinia beheld her lover, and the Marchioness, what she liked far better, some of her gambling associates, by whom she was immediately surrounded, and overwhelmed with the most fulsome compliments. " Divine Marchioness,'* cried Colonel Target, " we despaired of seeing you time enough for rouge ou noir. Will you come to our bower?" " I vow Colonel, I can scarcely resist your invita- tion," uttered the Marchioness, with a smile of fascina- tion ; *' but your bower is not made of roses, as far as regards myself, for I protest I am quite out of cash. Never thought of bringing any. Lavinia, child, have you got any money ?'* The looks of Lady Lavinia predicted a negative to her mother's interrogatory, and which the Marchioness was already apprised of. " Borrow, borrow mamma," hastily pronounced the young lady in a soft whisper. " The Colonel is in full feather, pluck him.*' e 15 Y V 354 ** Tanuinglon, will you accommodate ?" cried the Marchioness, taking her ladyship aside."^ *< Dear Marchioness, you know how utterly impos- sible it is for me to refuse you," answered her ladyship, drawing out her card purse, abundantly supplied. " It is not the first time that I have been tempted by your ladyship's smiles.'* " Nor the first time that I have paid you interest for the same," archly replied the Marchioness. This was a memorandum that called a slight hectic to colour the cheek of her dear friend,, who immedi- ately whispered— ^* Pearest creature,, pray take what you want, but leave me a chance if you can." The matter was speedily adjusted, the Marchioness supplied, and giving her hand to the gallant Colonel, he led her to the bower, where the stakes were run- ning high at the fore table. No matter, she was a woman of courage, and, tempted by the glittering bait, she bade defiance to the frowns of fortune. In the meanwhile Lady Lavinia, under the guardian- ship of Lord Winstone, was tempted by another bait. A superb chain and diamond cross was the prize con- tended for, and innumerable were the candidates. " Vou must throw for me Lavinia," cried the Mar- chioness ; *' I positively cannot join you these two hours— here I am, fixed as the polar star." And therefore we will leave both her and Lady La- vinia, with permission of our fair readers y for a magic wand waves us on to mettle more attractive, in the form of Lady Agatlia 5 and at its call we must obey. She was punctual to the hour she had promised to THB fisher's daughter. 355 edll on her dear Jessy, and arrived at her tiabitation just as the family were sitting down to dinner. Her entrance occasioned some confusion among the plates and dishes ; but the fisher, (who had that day invited himself to dine with Mr, and Mrs. Russcl, preparatory to the ceremony which was to take place on the mor- row,) no sooner beheld Lady Montault, who had tript into the room without ceremony, than he vociferated, with the most joyous glee depicted in his sunny coun- tenance — " Lord love thy little heart and soul ; why thee be Agatha Singleton again, every morsel of thee. So thee be come to pick a bit with us ; here Jess, bring t'other duck that be down at the fire, and swimming in gravy, and a hot plate, and let her ladyship have it nice and comfortable, for I do know that she do like thy cook- ing; does'nt thee now, my lady ?" ** Dear father, consider that Lady Montault is not accustomed to dine so early," cried Jessy, having placed a chair next to her for her beloved friend, and thanking her for the early notice she had taken of her note. " Pray do not press her to eat, if it is not agree- able." " Why that's a confounded lie Jess, to say that Aga- tha Singleton that was, did not like to dine at family hours 5 thee didst dine early enough when thee was at Herring Dale, did'nt thee my lady ? Shiver my top> sails, where is the use of mincing the matter, because thee be grown grand and great ; thee will always re- member the bridge that carried thee safe over, won't you my lady ?" To have stopt the current of the tide might have 356 THE FISHER*S DAUGHTER, been attempted with equal success as Peter's tongue, when once it was set into motion ; and though Jessy actually bhished for her father, he was unconscious of having said any thing that could cause him to blush for himself. In the meanwhil^e, Agatha scarcely able to refrain from laughing, humoiVed his jocularity with the sweetest smile of affability, and entered so much into the spirit of his mirth and whimsicality, without taking the slightest offence at any observation that he made on her change of fortune, that, more than ever charmed with his little favourite, he exclaimed — " Lord love thee, if thee were a queen, thee would be worthy to wear a crown, because thee do love to make folks happy about thee." " And hope I ever shall, my dear sir," answered Agatha, with a sweet smile. " Life would not be worth preserving, if we only lived to embitter the hap- piness of those around us." And after some little further conversation with Jessy and her worthy husband, it was suggested by Agatha, that their infant daughter, at the express desire of Lord Montault, should be christened at Violet Vale, by the Reverend Mr. Harris of the church of Cromer, and that after the child was named, they should finish the remainder of the day in each others society, by partak- ing of a handsome repast, in compliment to their be- coming sponsors for the little girl. " I will positively take no refusal," uttered Agatha, perceiving that Jessy was overwhelmed with confusion; so unexpected was this most flattering compliment conferred on her by Lord Montague ; " nor will I re- ceive a word of thanks from either you or Mr. Russel. 'A^&*)t^amfy^J//rO //c\iie^a/f/^Mooi. THE fisher's daughter. 357 It was all settled before I came here, I assure you; and my dear lord expects the pleasure of your company at Violet Vale, your husband's, and of course your father's. We shall be so happy Jessy ! one kiss of your little mopsey, and then I must depart." With these words Lady Montault immediately took her leave, leaving an impression on the grateful hearts she had made so happy, never to be erased from their memory. But it had quite altered the plans of Peter, who had anticipated pleasures over the christening of his little granddaughter, in which he was well aware he would not be permitted to indulge in the society of Lord and Lady Montault ; the latter indeed, would have only smiled at his little omissions of politeness and eti- quette, but the former would have felt indignant at any irregularity of conduct in the presence of his lovely wife. The fisher well knew, therefore, that it would be a severe restraint imposed upon his feelings, the dining at Violet Vale, and that he could not enjoy the pleasures of the bottle so freely as at the table of his son-in-law; and when Jessy first informed him of the arrangement which had taken place between her and Lady Montault, and that the christening was to be per- formed at Violet Vale, after which they were to spend the remainder of the day there, he swore with a tre- mendous oath, that he would not go at all to any such fine dangle flippery, but that he should eat his roast beef and plumb pudding, and drink his grog by himself at Herring Dale. " Well, but my dear father, pray do consider the nature of the case," uttered Jessy, endeavouring as much as possible to calm the violent gust of |>assion 358 THE fisher's daughtkh. into which he had broken out : " pray do consider, dear father," repeated Jessy, while softly laying her hand over the back of his chair, ** how impossible it was for me to have declined the invitation of Lord and Lady Montault on such an occasion, and in which you are included, as well as me and Samuel. Consider now that — " " Consider a fiddlestick's end," loudly vociferated the fisher. " I consider my own comforts, and I don't choose to have them broken in upon ; no, shiver my topsails, to please any lord or lady in Christendom. Hare not you studied to please them more than you have me already, with having a fine fingle fangle name, when I had my heart on the girl being called plain Peggy ? And now you want me to turn out of a snug chimney corner, to stick myself up at the table of a great lord, where I must be obliged to sit as stiff as a poker all the while I am having a morsel of dinner. No, I will be put upon a gridiron and broiled first, be- fore I will sit in such purgatory, and so you may tell my lord and lady if you please. I don't value a lord's good word any more than I do a brass button ; and as to their favours, who the devil want's any, I say ? not Peter Blust, nor any of his family. Favours — favours be—" The concluding sentence, to our utmost possible sa- tisfaction, remained unfinished by the fisher Blust, for his pipe being out, he was obliged to extend his arm over the table to reach his tobacco-box, and conse- quently to move the back of his chair, over which Jessy was leaning. To his violent harangue she had been silent as the THE fisher's daughter. 359 grave; so was Samuel, because they well knew that the tempest would not continue long, and that trying to calm it would be of no avail ; and it was just as he turned round and discovered Jessy at the back of his chair, that he was going to swear an oath, which we are happy to say was suppressed by the effect that his daughter had upon his feelings. For the lovely azure eyes of Jessy were filled with tears, a sight as painful and mortifying to the feelings of poor Sam, as it was distressing to her father, who felt conscious that he was the sole cau«e of them ; and not knowing what excuse to plead for the intemperate warmth he had betrayed, he deliberately laid down his pipe, and walked up to the cradle, where his little granddaughter was lying with her eyes wide open, and the lovely innocent perfectly smiled in his face as he approached to take her in his arms. ** Thee be a good tempered little soul, shiver my topsails if thee be'nt," uttered he, caressing the lovely infant, and very carefully placing it on his knee, look- ing at Jessy all the while, who had recovered her self- possession, and was now seated, as much as to say I am sorry I have offended thee; and at length he ex- claimed, (Sam having stept out of the room,) " Jessy, 1 do love thee wench, and it do break my heart when I do see a tear trembling in that eye, that 1 do know thy father's unkindness has caused to flow. Ah Jess, Jess ! thee were the darling of my heart, when thee were just such another little dumpling as this on thy old father's knee. Shiver my topsails, I could hang myself up like a dog for saying a word that was cross- grained to thee, my Jess. Thee were the tenderest 360 THB fisher's daughter. hearted little soul when thee were a baby, and so thou hast been ever since, and as kind a wench to thy old father as ever breathed ; so come here Jess and give me a kiss, and say no more about the christening, for I shall go because it do please thee, but shiver my topsails if it do please me/' " Then father I had better not go," uttered Jessy, as she removed her infant, which had now fallen fast asleep, from the arms of its grandfather, in so soft, un- assuming, and bewitching an accent, that unable any longer to oppose or act harshly to the wishes of his beloved child, he strained her yet more closely to his heart, and promised to do all she wished, provided that he might be allowed to please himself the day after the christening. " Certainly you shall, my dearest father,'* cried Jessy, delighted at the thoughts of obtaining his sanction, in any way whatever to accompany her to Violet Vale. *^ Why then we'll have another christening the day after," cried the fisher, " in my own way, remember Jess. None of your fine dingle dangles, but a jolly good dinner, and plenty to drink afterwards, where I can sit, or stand, or smoke, or let it alone, just as I like, without being called to account by any body ; on these conditions I shall go, and behave myself as well as I can at my lord and my lady's, but I shall be hear- tily glad when I am got into safe moorings again, you may depend upon it. Jessy promised every thing that her father wished, and he departed at a late hour, in great good humour with her and honest Samuel, who, for reasons best known to himself, did not choose to interfere between THB fisher's daughter. 361 Jessy and her father in any altercation that might ne- cessarily occur, well knowing that the fisher's fondness for his daughter, would very soon bring matters round again, without his taking any active share in it at all ; and so it proved, for on the following morning the fisher was punctual to the hour at which they were to set out for the magnificent mansion of Lord Montault ; and drest in all his best clothes, which were extremely respectable, Peter presented himself at the chamber door of Mrs. Russel, before her own toilette and that of her infant was completely adjusted. It was a beau- tiful season of the year ; Jessy was attired in a plain robe of the finest cambric, trimmed with lace, a cap of the same, with bows of white satin ribband, confined her luxuriant beautiful light hair in modest and matronly order ; and her lovely baby looked like a perfect angel when, in the arms of its nurse, and in a close carriage, they proceeded to the mansion of Lord Montague Mon- tault, where the Rev. Mr. Harris had already arrived. Lord Montague received his guests with the greatest urbanity and hospitality, welcoming the fisher Blust and Mr. Russel with distinguishing kindness ; and heartily shaking Peter by the hand on his first entrance to the room, gave him joy on the birth of his little grand- daughter, which contributed in no small degree to ex- hilarate the spirits of Peter, who immediately ex- claimed — ** Thank you, my lord, thank you; the same to you, with all my heart and soul. It be a nice little dumpling ; can't say but what it is ; and since we could not have a boy, why we must make shift with a girl, that be all." His lordship smiled, and with great jocularity re- a 16 z z 'dG2i THE fisher's daughter. marked, that it was a fault which the following year might easily repair. After partaking of a very elegant repast, the parties were conducted to a most spacious apartment prepared for the occasion, Wolf and Alfred having also been invited by Lord Montague to be pre- sent at the ceremony, and where it was at length most impressively performed by the Rev. Mr. Harris ; the fisher conducting himself in the most appropriate manner that was possible during the whole of its per- formance, which being concluded, and the little girl having received the name of Matilda Margaretta, her nurse was conducted into the apartment where Lord Orlando and his nurse was, and where every attention was paid to them by the orders of Lady Montault; after which the whole party sat down to dinner, where the utmost good humour and hilarity prevailed. Peter was indulged with pipes and tobacco, and some excel- k)nt grog ; and Lord Montault having seated himself next to Mrs. Russel, congratulated her in a whisper on the birth of so beautiful a child. " Then surely, my lord, I may return you the com- pliment," cried Jessy, " for never did I behold a finer child than Lord Orlando.** Jessy then took an oppor- tunity of returning her most grateful acknowledgments to Lord Montague, for the very liberal mabk of his bounty he had bestowed on her little daughter. To which Lord Montague replied — "Do not mention it, I beg of you, Mrs. Russel, for you are worthy of every kindness and attention that you receive from any part of my family, I am very certain, and you may rely on my future friendship to- wards you. It is impossible for me ever to be indiffer- THS fisher's daughter. 363 cut to an object so tenderly and affectionately regarded by my beloved wife." " Do you not think Wolf and Alfred most amazingly improved, my Lord ?'* uttered Jessy, on perceiving that his lordship's eyes were at that moment most earnestly fixed on Wolf, and alternately on Alfred, with the conduct of both of whom he had been particularly pleased and gratified the whole of the day ; and Lord Montague returned the following answer : — " I do indeed, Mrs. Kussel ; they are altogether two of the finest youths I ever beheld, and are well worthy of the patronage they have been so fortunate to obtain. Poor fellows, who could turn their backs on them, or treat them with cold unfeeling apathy, or unmerited contempt; friendless as they were, shipwrecked on our coast, without home, and without parents ?" " And yet they found one, thank heaven !" cried Jessy. '•' And friends who never will desert them," uttered Lord Montague. Both Dr. Syntax and Mr. Lawrence had been invited by Lord Montague to the christening of the Fisher's Daughter, and their conversation served as a relief to Peter's, who, notwithstanding his resolution of preserv- ing sobriety, continued to make too many oblations to Bacchus, to find his way home that night to Herring Dale, and was therefore under the necessity of staying and taking a bed at his son-in-law's. He was highly delighted, however, with the reception he had met with at Violet Vale, and every now and then began a long oration on the excellent qualities and delicious flavour of his lordship's wine. 364 THE FISHER*S DAUGHTER. " Of which, my dear father, you really have had a tolerable good portion," cried Jessy, smiling. " Yes, pretty well for that," hicktiped the fisher, as he endeavoured to walk steadily towards the door of the chamber to which his son-in-law was preparing to conduct him; " but never mind, a christening comes but once a year in the same family; but shiver my topsails T don't care how often it comes, if one could drink a bottle of such wine as his lordship's cellar abounds with." This was the exit-speech of poor Peter as he staggered off to bed, but over whose frail- ties we would much rather throw a veil, than expose them to the severe animadversions of his friends; but they are those only to whom we can or ought to reveal them, because the excellent qualities of his heart will very naturally excuse trifling defects, which were really injurious to no one but himself. Alas ! no human being is exempt from frailty, be his perfections or his virtues what they may ! it is born with us, and it as certainly dies with us. But to proceed. The following morning Wolf and Alfred, by the fisher's private invitation, which he contrived to whisper in their ear, went over early to Mrs. Russel, to enquire if indeed there was to be a second christening of the little Matilda, for that Mr. Blust had informed them so, and had also invited them to dine there that day, in order to celebrate it. " So we have obtained leave of absence, dear Jessy," cried Wolf, " if by coming so early you do not consi- der our company intrusive." ** O by no means, my dear boys," cried Samuel, laughing heartily at the whim of the fisher's. " You THK fisher's daughter, 305 are heartily welcome, though we did not expect yon ; but it is all right, my father must certainly be indulged with his way to day, because he gave us our's yester- day." " But not without difficulty, I do assure you, Wolf," cried Jessy, laughing. *^ We could hardly prevail upon him to accompany us to Lord Montague Mon- tauit's, although his lordship gave him so kind an invi- tation." " Every man to his humour," uttered Wolf, and smiled. ** Certainly," answered Mr. Russel, ** and every wo- man too." " What a magnificent mansion is that of our dear and amiable friend !" cried Jessy ; '* incomparable crea- ture ! how like an angel did she behave to us yester- day ; and how beautiful did she appear when seated at the head of her table 5 attentive to all, yet particular to no one I O what an inestimable treasure is Lord Mon- tague possessed of!" " And not without being fully sensible of its value," uttered Alfred, looking reproachfully at Jessy, for hav- ing thus introduced the name of the Lady Agatha; for Wolf, to her observation on the merits of her lovely friend, exhibited an agitation he vainly endeavoured to conceal ; and sighing profoundly, averted his head from Jessy's ardent gaze, without a sentence being pro- nounced, while Jessy feeling sorry that she had unin- tentionally been the cause of awakening the dormant passion of poor Wolf, by dwelling on the perfections of her lovely friend, instantly made a pretext of quit- 363 THE fish£r's daughter. ti»g the room, to give him time to recover his self- possession, which only for a moment seemed to have deserted its citadel. CHAPTER XVI. ♦^ We are too apt to ridicule in others, what requirts ameudinent in ourselves; we are blind to our own defects, though keen sighted when they proceed from our neighbours. Let their faults be the fingerpost, shewing us the road to the correction of our deformity." PiCTOR. Wolf met Jessy at dinner with a downcast eye and a flushed cheek, and the consciousness of having wounded the feelings of this amiable and fine spirited youth, (although unintentionally,) had inflicted on her own gentle bosom an involuntary sensation of pain which she could not conceal ; and she most impatiently longed too for an opportunity of telling him so ; but no such opportunity as this occurred, for the fisher, who was in high glee,and in the best of all possibleof dispositions, had actually thought proper to monopolize the conver- sation both of Alfred and Wolf the whole time they THE FISHER*S DAUGHTER. 367 were there, by offering them, in his way, (and certainly no bad way ; for although his language was so plain and unsophisticated, still it was the language of the heart, and its dictates were truth and sincerity,) some lessons, which it was not likely would ever be erased from their recollection. " For d'ye see, my dear lads," uttered he, filling his pipe with tobacco, and placing it mechanically to his lips, " though we may be wise to day, we may be fool- ish to-morrow; and it is better to steer clear of quick- sands and shoals, than run headlong into them, and founder on the rocks. There's but one steady course to guide the helm when the anchor's afloat, and we are launched on the wide ocean ; and sink or swim, it will carry us into safe moorings, in spite of the rough tem- pests or the rough seas; and that's integrity, and doing our duty to our fellow creatures. Shiver my topsails if ever I see the face of either of you again, if ever I catch you doing a bad action. Lord love you, what did I take you under my wing for, but to give you a good bringing up ? I knevv I had the shiners to do it if nobody else had ; and though you have had the good fortune to find friends to set you a going, who can do better for you, remember, my lads, you had no friends when the waves cast you upon this coast on the night of the storm, like a couple of dead herrings in an old fish- woman's basket ; and if ever you should chance to get grand and great in the outlandish parts where you are going to, here's one piece of advice I give you, never to forget the bridge that carried you safe over." " Could we forget your kindness, we were indeed 368 THB fishbr's daughter. unworthy of the blessing that heaven bestows," uttered Alfred. ** And should deserve to meet the frowns of fortune in its worst extremes,'* observed Wolf. ^' But, sir, believe us not so ungrateful, or our memories so trea- cherous of past kindness, for gratitude is a blossom that never dies ; it revives with the genial sun of friend- ship's cheering beams, from whose smiles it first in- haled breath, and can only end with the total extermi- nation of it." The fisher's eyes shone with a glistening tear, at the sentiments so ingenuously expressed by those amiable youths, and heartily shaking them by the hand, drank health and prosperous gales of happiness in a full flowing bumper, in which honest Samuel, in his quiet orderly soberly way, (for he was formed of materials of the most peaceable kind, without being divested of the ingredients of common sense, so falsely attributed by those whose brighter talents shine more conspicu- ously, but not more safely or more prudently, permit me to observe, in the common routine of worldly af- fairs,) most heartily joined; and as he pledged the glass, in imitation of his father-in-law, exclaimed — ^' Prosperity my good lads await thee wheresoever thou mayest steer thy compass, and guide you safely on your voyage through life. 'Tis not, as I have heard say, (and I do honestly believe that the saying is true,) it is not in the power of mortals* to command success, but it is in the power of every man to endeavour to deserve it." " I am most decidedly of your opinion, Mr. Russel," THE fisher's daughter. 369 cried Wolf, " and I most earnestly hope that neither my brother Alfred nor I may disappoint our warmest and most earnestly attached friends of their kindly ex- pectations.'* With these and many more friendly hints, alternately given by the fisher and honest Sam, Wolf and Alfi'ed departed, after having caressed the lovely little Matilda with every demonstration of the truest affection, in compliment to the authors of its being; and as it lay sleeping on its mother's gentle bosom, Wolf, as he imprinted a feiTcnt kiss on its roseate lips, observed, that a day would yet come when he should behold that promise of infantine loveliness ripened into charms of womanhood ; and that when he returned from a far distant country, to which his patron informed him he would be shortly going, he should see the lovely girl the pride and darling of her fond parents. "And many more darlings too, to keep her company besides, Wolf, mayhap," cried the fisher, winking slyly and archly at his son-in-law, while it brought a roseate blush on the fair face of Jessy. " Wounds man, there will be a house full of such little dumplings before thee comes back again to thy old quarters ; then you know little Matty there will be fit for a wife for one of you. There is many a thing comes to pass that be locked up in a sow's ear, thee do know lads, that be only in a pig's ear at the present moment; the wisest of us can- not tell what may happen in the course of time." " That can they not, indeed sir," cried W^olf, sup- pressing a painful but involuntary sigh with which his bosom seemed overcharged. " In the web of time lies wonders, but this cannot time do; it will never change b 16 3a 370 THE fisher's daughter. my heart or my resolutions ; they are fixed as the po- lar star, and will know no change, till that change which dissolves all earthly ties, affections, enmities, the feelings of life and nature." " The feelings of a fiddlestick's end," vociferated the fisher, in his usual blunt tone; and perceiving that Wolf had more meaning in his thoughts than he dared give utterance to, and probably guessing at their mean- ing more than he chose to express, he assumed an air of jocularity, in order to dissipate the uneasiness he beheld him suffering, which made him smile, in des- pite of the sombre reflections which were beginning to assail him. What, dost thee want to be ground old before thee beest ground young ? cast thy colt's tooth first. But I say, Wolf, where beest going, dost thee know lad ?" " To India, as I understand, sir, from the Duke," replied Wolf, thoughtfully. " I believe that his Grace has already received my appointment, though, for some reason, he has not yet publicly declared what are his intentions respecting the period of my departure ; still I know that it is certainly fixed ; but from the [>eculiar circumstances in which I am situated in the Duke's family, delicacy forbids me to make any enquiry that might be deemed either impertinent or intrusive." " Shiver my topsails if I don't think that be carry- ing delicacy too far," uttered the fisher. " 1 should make no bones about that, I can assure you, when I was going to be launched into the wide world, and to sail on my own bottom, as a body may say ; I should like to know what side of the compass I was going to steer by, though, master Wolf, after all." THE fisher's daughter, 371 ** A very safe one, you may rely on it, sir,'' answered Wolf. *' Humph !" murmured Peter, between a whiff of his pipe, and a sort of short dry cough, with which he sometimes happened to be seized. " If thee be satis- fied, why it's al! the same to me, that be all, only I should like to know something about it. I suppose Alfy, it will be a main long time before thee do climb up to a parson's box, wont it ? Great folks do take a mortal time to consider of things, that be true enough." *' Yes, sir ; but when they are certain" — uttered Al- fred, who found that it was now his turn to undergo an examination, and that the more conclusive he was on the subject, the sooner it would come to a finale; but in this he was mistaken, for Peter, after a string of interrogatories, none of which were deemed sufficiently satisfactory to him, he exclaimed — '* And pray what do you know about the certainty of great folks, I should be glad to know ? I tell you it's all a confounded lie, no more and no less, and that they tack about as often as a ship does when the wind is blowing directly contrary against her." " But do you believe, my dear father, that the Duke is not perfectly sincere in his intentions towards my brother and me ? or that so great and worthy a person- age would not most rigidly perform a duty which he imposed upon himself, and none other suggested ?'' cried Alfred, in the mildest accents. " Is it likely that such a gentleman would act inconsistently with honour, delicacy, or truth ?" There was another humph gruffly escaped from the lips of Peter; and what he was going to say wc cannot 37? THE fisher's daughter. precisely tell, in opposition to Alfred, had not the sweeter lips of the gentle Jessy opened to pronounce — " No, indeed Alfred, I am well persuaded that the Duke would not, and I am very sure that my father does not think so, notwithstanding the hasty manner in which he has expressed himself." The fisher chuckled at the manner in which Jessy had defended him; and as the sound of her sweet voice always put an extinguisher on any thing that seemed like wormwood on his tongue, in his severe remarks on others, the most perfect good humour was preserved, and the utmost harmony prevailed during the continuance of their visit at Mr. Russel's. At a late hour they returned to Violet Vale, when the first intelligence Wolf received from his tutor Lawrence was, that the Duke of Braganza had given orders for Wolf to attend him at an early hour the ensuing morning, and that he had every reason to believe that his Grace had received, in dispatches from India, the order for his appointment to one of the regiments stationed there, under the command of General Fontenelle. The countenance of W^olf underwent many changes at the communication of his tutor, but they were those of the most anin)ated and pleasing kind ; and that there . was now a prospect for his mind to be engaged in some active pursuits, filled him with the greatest joy, for his present state had of late been unsnpportable to him from many causes, and had rendered him a completely wretched and isolated being, owing to the unhappy and unconquerable attachment he felt towards an ob- ject, between whom and him a barrier was placed of THE fisher's daughter. '373 such unmeasurable distance, that it was utterly out of the pale of probability to imagine either from chance or circumstance, that hope would ever fan a mutual flame. The sight of her was therefore dangerous to his peace and injurious to his honour, while it was equally unfavourable to his studies or his progress in learning ; for he was bound in the pleasing charm that fascinated his senses, which was riveted too powerfully about his heart ever to be broken, except by that change which dissolves all earthly ties. Joyful therefore was the intelligence imparted to hUn by Lawrence, that there was at last a probability of his commencing his military campaign, and of his speedy departure from Violet Vale ; but not so joyous were the feelings of his tutor on the occasion, who being most passionately attached to his pupil, expressed, with great sensibility, his deep and unfeigned regret, that a separation was so shortly to take place between them. " It is not from a selfish motive, believe me, Mr. Wolf," cried Lawrence, "or that because your absence will render my services no longer necessary at Violet Vale, that I regret so fervently your departure, but I have an affection for you, Mr. Wolf, in which no selfish consideration can ever take precedence, or worldly considerations ever be united with. I have my pecu- liarities, friendships, antipathies, congenialities, faithful attachments, everlasting zeal, and fidelity. Yes, I have cherished all these Mr. Wolf, in happier days, be- fore 1 thought mankind could act ungratefully or treacherously towards each other, i have lived to be deceived, and who is there that does not ? yet some- thing tells me that in you I shall never be mistaken. 374 THE FJSHER S DAUGHTER. for there is an ingenuous nobleness of disposition which charmed me at the first sight of you ; time has strengthened my attachment towards you, and now makes parting painful. I am a lone man, you know, Mr. Wolf, a solitary plant cast on a blighted heath ; few sunny rays have smiled to cheer the gloomy single- ness of my fate, till J beheld you, loved boy ; you were the sunshine that so suddenly broke in upon me, at a time of life when 1 would have conceived that no mor- tal tie could have bound me to existence. Having thus explained the nature of my feelings, you cannot won- der, Mr. Wolf, that I should experience some sensa- tions of regret at bidding you farewell." Wolf was astonished and confounded by this confes- sion of his tutor, in whose eye he beheld a glistening tear of most genuine affection ; and it was not without betraying considerable emotion, that he answered this affectionate appeal made to his feelings. ** O revered and respected sir, how shall I express the deep sense of gratitude I feel towards you, for the warm interest you take in my welfare, and the favourable opinion with which you honour me ! O, sir, may I be permitted to assure you, that I shall ever retain the most indelible impression of all your kindness, and that the pain inflicted on your heart by our separation, is not less so on mine, and that the loss of your society will be doubly felt by me in a far distant clime, where no cheering voice of friendship will salute my ears as it does now — no friendly eye to greet my presence there — no counsel to guide my inexperienced youth. My monitor, my instructor, and friend, why does my fortune bid me rove without you I Yet so it does, and THB fisher's daughter. 375 I am anxious for the long farewell to objects, whom though 1 love dearest on earth, yet whole ages of tor- ture could not exceed what I suffer in their presence, de- prived of the privileges I so blissfully enjoyed once in their company and conversation ! But pray pardon my digression on this subject, I am strangely wandering/' " You are indeed, my dear Mr. Wolf," uttered Lawrence, casting upon him a look, alternately blended with compassion and tenderness of affection, '^ wander- ing far, far beyond the limits of discretion, when you speak thus of objects as being dangerous to your repose, if such indeed they are. I rejoice that prudence and good sense so naturally suggest to you, that from such objects it is indeed your imperative duty to fly; from dangerous objects there is no safety, but in immediate flight. There is a frailty, a weakness in human nature, which even the wisest head and the firmest heart can- not at all seasonable times set at absolute defiance. Had man been completely perfect, he had never fallen or been degraded in the eyes of his Maker; and a heavy punishment succeeded to the commission of the offence of which he had been guilty. But was there not mercy held out to him hereafter by an all- gracious, mild, for- giving, and beneficent Being ! Was there not a drop of pity mixed in the heart-galling beverage which he himself had prepared ! Man was forgiven by God, when repentance was offered in atonement for his transgression. God forgives, and man presumptuously denies it. He refuses to his fellow-creature what he himself stands in need of fron) his Maker, — pardon ; for there never was that earthly being yet, however pure or immaculate, who did not require it. Thoughts 37G THE FISHEtt's DAUGHTER. ascend to heaven as well as actions ; and thoughts are free ; impervious oft to man, but to God never. Let us thus, my dear boy, endeavour to be as pure in thoughts as we would be in every action of our lives ! and with this consciousness about us we have nothing to fear; in peril, in sickness, in poverty, nay, even in the house of death, it will sustain us ; and half its terrors, (if in- deed to the truly good and virtuous it hath any,) will be disarmed. My dear boy, I read your heart, I have been able to read it for a long time past, and with inex- pressible grief and regret soon discovered the fatal secret with which it was labouring, which it was probable some existing circumstance greatly tended to increase thema- ladyof. 1 call it by its right name, my dear Wolf, and be not angry at the plain terms I give it, for it is nothing less nor more than a malady,— the love you bear for Lord Montague's lovely wife. Nay, start not, you have manfully and bravely struggled to conceal that secret, but the attempt, as far as relates to my own observa- tion, has been fruitless and unavailing. Heaven grant that it may have succeeded with others ; but this malady at your time of life, dear boy, is not incurable. Romantic passion cannot last, where hope fans not the flame with its balmy breath; and for you there is no hope. The flower will therefore perish as on a blight- ed stalk; absence is its death, and, fortunately for you, will leave no sting behind, for the Lady Agatha is both a wife and a mother, and is besides most passionately attached to her lord and husband, and to her child ; these are affections on which woman's heart prides itself, and holds so sacredly, that she is not likely to forego them, even if her heart before marriage had THE fisher's daughter. 377 ever been another's. There is then no hope, no chance existing, or probability that she would ever be- stow her affections on you. There is also between you and the Lady Agatha a disparity of years ; she is your senior by many; and though now beautiful as an angel, she will not continue so. Wolf. Women and roses run on the same parallel -, they are both fading and perishable, though both lovely while their season At this remark, however just. Wolf heaved a deep and melancholy sigh ; but it was occasioned only by the reflection that the lovely flower, now in its full bloom of beauty, though it might indeed be withered in its fragrance, would never belong to him, and he exclaimed : — " Ah, sir ! and even then I should love the Lady Agatha ; in my eyes that beauty would never fade, for it was not that which made niy heart so willingly her captive; it was her mind, that fairest pattern of all hu- man excellence, her generous heart, her gentle disposi- tion." "Boy — boy, you talk like an enthusiast; but thou art young, and thy heart is warm with passiun," cried Lawrence, smiling. " When thou dost carry a few more years on thy shoulders, the fairy colours that deck thy glowing fancy will vanish, and, ~-^ like the baseless fabric of a vision, I^eave not a wreck behind.' '* '* Sir, to your better judgment I ever must yield with submission," uttered Wolf; '* but wherefore should we part, if indeed you will share my fortunes ? c 16 3 b 378 THB fisher's DAUGHTJiR. most gladly would f accept of your company to India. I have some little independence from the bounty of the deceased Captain Singleton, and doubtless 1 shall have more from the generosity of n)y benefactor. Will you, sir, accompany me to that distant clime I am going to ? Be still as now my mentor, my instructor, my kind friend, and I will bsyour grateful pupil. Say, at once, you will not refuse my solicitation.'* For many moments Lawrence could not articulate a single sentence, so unexpected was this offer from his young favourite; and he exclaimed, after a pause : — *' Noble, exalted, and generous boy ! now indeed I feel thou art worthy of my affection, since thou wouldst burthen thyself with a feeble old man, who could do nought for thee but give thee good counsel ; yet thou wouldst bear with him and his infirmities together. Well — well, I'll think on thy plan, and tell you of the result to-morrow. In the meanwhile let's to our chamber; the hour is growing late, and yet I miss not the time that I have been talking with thee." With these words, a kind good night, and an affec- tionate squeeze of the hand, Lawrence retired for the night, leaving Wolf to reflections of a nature which were almost undefinable, pleasing, and certainly pain- ful ; for it was not to be imagined that he could bid adieu to the fi-.hcr and his family, beneath whose roof he had been so kindly sheltered and fostered with pro- tection, when destitute of friends and fortune, without feeling considerable emotion. His dear Alfred, too ! could he part with him without a tear of brotherly af- fection, or wishing that he were not the companion of his voyage as formerly, when, shi{>wrecked on the coast THB fisher's daughter. 379 of Cromer, they became the peculiar care of the honest fisherman ? Yes, the thoughts of parting with Alfred, who doubtless would mutually share in the pain of a separation, when he should indeed hear that the time was fixed for his departure, occasioned Wolf to pass a restless and sleepless night ; and when he arose from his pillow at an uncommonly early hour the ensuing morning, his countenance exhibited traces of an agi- tated mind, which vainly he endeavoured to conceal from the observation of his preceptor. But Lawrence was not to be deceived in the appear- ance and the looks of his beloved pupil ; for in the words of a pensive, but highly-wrought inspired bard, the fine features of Wolf were exemplified in the following manner :— ** O'er his pale brow a melancholy thought Hangs like a cloud, dimraiug the eyes of fire, And stealing from hrs youthful cheek, the rose, As though a baffled cause, a ruiii'd house, Uuprosperous love, or cruel banishment, ' Had blighted the fair buds, which would have grown To goodly blossoms. Yet the lofty soul, The high aspiriug mind, breaks, like ihe sun, Through the thick veil of care, and points to hopes Of future glory, ■ atriot zeal, and tells Of difficulties vau<|ui?hed, toils o'ercome, Laurels unwreath'd, with love's sweet roses pluck'd From danger's desperate gulph." " You have rested but poorly, Mr. Wolf," cried Law- rence, as soon as he entered the room, and discovered his pupil sitting in a mournful abstraction of mind. To which Wolf rc})lied — '•Or rather, I have had no rest at all. I had wak- iijg thoughts, sir, that — '' 380 THB fisher's daughter. " It would be worse than folly to indulge, or yield to the impression of, at a crisis like this, my dear bo}^/* answered the tutor, gravely ; and at this precise mo- ment Alfred entered the room. The agitated looks of Wolf soon attracted his observation, and with an air of the most brotherly kindness, he tenderly enquired into the cause; it was soon explained, and the counte- nance of Alfred instantly betrayed, that the intelligence he received of his dear brother's departure, was not only unwelcome, but painful to his feelings, although he felt that it was his duty to exert every energy of his mind to suppress the sensations which he experienced on Wolfs account; yet tears shone in his eyes when they conversed more fully on the subject, and the part- ing hour was adverted to. Alfred, whose softness of character, and gentleness of disposition was percepti- ble in every look and action of his life, was not proof against parting with an object so affectionately beloved; and in a tremulous voice he pronounced — "Ah, dear Wolf I though I rejoice in the prosperous smiles of good fortune that await you on your en- trance upon a life in which you have so long panted to be engaged, and at the opportunity it will afford you of engrafting knowledge into your mind, and improving those bright talents with which nature has so liberally endowed you ; though I rejoice, I say, at this comple- tion of your wishes, yet I am not so much of a philo- sopher as to part with you without shedding tears, or feeling, by the absence of a dear brother, I shall be de- prived of a very considerable part of my happiness, amusements, and pleasures, in which my dear Wolf so long has shared. Yet we shall meet again, if heave« THE fisher's daughter. 381 permits it ; and to that period let us look forward with a lively hope, with a full and entire confidence in each others unchanging affection. You have promised me a regular correspondence; do not be unmindful of that promise when you are in a far distant clime, I implore youj my dear brother." " Wolf, much affected, faithfully promised Alfred that, in all his wanderings^ he would regularly trans- mit every particular of his situation, and that he in re- turn should expect a similar favour of him." This being finally arranged between them, at the en- trance of Dr. Syntax they sat down to breakfast, and enjoyed a rational and pleasing conversation on a variety of subjects. After which Wolf immediately repaired to the pre- sence of his patron, his Grace the Duke of Braganza, who received him with a most cordial smile, and con- gratulated him on the prospect there now was of his shortly setting out to join his regiment, which was stationed at Port Antonio, under the command of his friend, General Mahoney, and in which an ensigncy had been procured through the immediate interest of the governor, a^id that promotion was to take place the very first opportunity, provided that his conduct should be found to merit that distinction. " And which I do not at all question. Wolf," uttered his Grace, smilingly. *' I have not the slightest doubt but you will prove yourself worthy of the patronage I have been so fortunate as to succeed in procuring for you; your rising in your military career will hereafter lie in your own exertions of active zeal and distinguishable 382 tHB fisher's daughter. merit, which will be far more gratifying, than if yoa owed it to mere personal interest.'* Wolf bowed at receiving a complinjent so highly flattering ; and in terms at once modest, elegant, and animated, thanked his Grace for the noble and disin- terested proof he had given to serve a friendless, nameless youth, who had no being on earth to claim him for his own. He then timidly enquired of his pa- tron, if he might be permitted to know at what period his embarkation would take place ? *^ In a month from the date of this day," uttered his Grace. " There is a fine ship under an especial con- voy, and which is with many others bound for India; she is called the Maria Louisa, and in her I wish you to sail. Tn the meantime I wish you to enjoy yourself with those recreations to which, at your season of life, it is very natural to suppose you may be inclined ; I mean the society of a few partial friends, the fisher Blust, for instance, and his family. Your hours of study are now over. [ wish you to understand that I do not mean to restrict you in any shape whatever, be- fore you depart, from pleasures that come within the scope of prudence. 1 will arrange all other things ne- cessary for your departure, with regard to furnishing you with what may be requisite for your apparel, books, and all such articles and expenditure that can- not be dispensed with in the profession in which you are about to be engaged. No thanks, young man, I will receive none. I have done my duty, and the con- sciousness of that is a sufficient reward." So saying,^ the Duke dismissed from his presence his THE fisher's daughter. 3S3 young favourite, leaving Wolf in a flutter of spirits not to be described, his exaltation being so sudden and unexpected^ that he could scarcely credit the evidence of bis own senses. He was now in full possession of what he had so long and eagerly desired to obtain, a commission in the army stationed in a foreign clime, and favoured by auspices that could not fail to be the leading star to fame and fortune. At what then did this so greatly favoured youth repine ? That we will inform our read- ers of in the next chapter. CHAPTER XVn. «« There is no room for such regrets, Venula ! In this devoted heart love has expell'd All female vanity. I never wish'd That titles, wealth, or power, should bend before My humble shrine ; not e'en to be refused For thee, the only earthly good I ever Asked of heaveu 1" Kinsma.v of Naples. There is no man who loses sight of the object on whom his soul has doated, and still doats with the most unutterable fondness, that can boast of being 384 ' THE fisher's daughter. either a stoic or a philosopher; however stern his creed may be, he must still feel the influence she has possessed over his charmed senses, in the parting mo- ment which may eventually separate them for ever; and so felt Wolf, even after the sober and mature re- flections he had made, and the resolution he had form- ed, utterly to banish the impression which the Lady Agatha had so powerfully wrought upon every impulse of his actions and his mind, which also the timely admonitions of his beloved Alfred had in no small de- gree tended to increase. But alas ! when was love ever controlled by advice, when like a torrent it rushes down with impetuous force, suffering nothing to impede the progress of its way ? One glance of the Lady Agatha as she passed the window with her at- tendant and her child, had the effect of electric fire through his trembling frame, and her luelodious voice thrilled to his very soul when she stopt and uttered — " Good morning, dear Wolf, what delightful weather; it has invited me abroad, though I confess I am no early riser, yet such a morning as this is so resplen- dently lovely, that it tempts me to forego sleep, to enjoy a ramble over the plantations. My boy too, you see, has caught the humour of his mother, and is determin- ed to be the companion of my peregrinations. But bless me. Wolf, have you been paying nightly vigils to the moon, or studying the planets, or what? for in truth you do not look as if you had rested. I hope you are well, Wolf; your eyes are heavy, and your complexion pale; these are unusual signs with you j pray tell me if you feel indisposed?" There was an air of anxiety in the beautiful counte- THS FisifBR^S DAUGHTER. 385 nunce of Agatha as she made this enquiry of her yonng favourite, which it was impossible for Wolf not to feel the expression of; and as he raised his eyes towards ber's, his face was crimsoned with a deep blush, while he replied-^ " Your ladyship honours me by an enquiry so kind ; but if truth must be spoken, (and I never yet uttered a falsehood to you,) I have indeed had a sleepless night and a restless pillow ; but certainly it is not indisposi- tion to whidt I can ascribe it, but the suddenness with which I was informed by hi^ Grace of my speedy de- parture for India. We cannot, lady, always put an extinguisher on feelings to which we have so long been naturalized, that they have become mingled with our very existence; we cannot tear kindred branches asunder, withdut the tree being shook by the separation. The oak of the forest will tremble, though it sustains the storm/* Agatha, from some internal feeling, immediately averted her head from the dark and piercing eyes which had rested for a moment on her face ; and, after a pause, expressed some little surprise that the Duke, her father, should not have mentioned this intelligence either to her or Lord Montague—" Knowing Imw happy I and my dear lord would be to hear of an event so prosperous to your future fortune, dear Wolf," said she. ** But how soon may it be probable that you depart?" To which Wolf fauUeringly replied, and scarcely suppressing a half struggling sigh — ** In one month hence his Grace inform* me that I shall embark. Yes, in one little month, dearest lady, t shaH bid adieu to friends that — " a 17 3c 386 THE fisher's daughter, " \yill never cease to take an interest in your fate/' answered Agatha, with her head still averted from his ardent gaze. It was a critical moment for poor Wolf, alone with the being he most idolized on earthy (for the attendant had walked on with the child,) so soon to be separated from her, perhaps not shortly to meet again, perhaps never, and yet not to be able to express all the tumults of his beating heart. In the meanwhile Agatha, who, it was probable, wanted no interpreter to explain the looks of the de- jected Wolf as he stood yet lingering beside her ; and fearful that, if he did so much longer, some observa- tions might ensue of a very painful and disagreeable nature, which she was determined to avoid, both for her own sake and that of Wolf, (for whose unfortu- nate attachment to herself she felt the utmost commis- seration and pity, as it was now evident that he could no longer conceal it, though he had endeavoured to do so by every means in his power,) most heartily re- joiced that a separation was so shortly to take place between them, well knowing the disposition of Lord Montague, and of his former suspicions with respect to the attentions of this young man, which nothing but jealousy alone could have excited, which the very moment that she discovered she became sedu- lously cautious, by not giving the slightest opportunity in all her conversations with his lordship, to induce him once to imagine that Wolf had ever been a greater favourite with her than Alfred ; she never dwelt on his praises, or extolled him more highly when their tutors Were commending any of their performances; and by this prudent method prevented any further impression tiiE fisher's daughtkr. vJ87 -being made on the mind of her hiisbaud by the demon who had formerly possessed him. Here, however, was a severe trial for her feelings, for she could not disguise the favourite sentiments she felt for this noble-, amiable, and ingenuous young man, or bid him fare- well, without deep regret and a powerful interest in his fate; and she could impart these thoughts to none but her beloved Jessy, which she did on the following mornirjg after the intimation she had received of Wolf's departure, for she had never once mentioned it to Lord Montague, nor his lordship to her; neither had the Duke been at all communicative on the subject; he merely said that VVolf w^as going, but did not say when, or in what manner he had obtained his appoint- ment. In the course of her morning's visit to 'Mrs. Russel, she, however, shghtly glanced at the subject, carelessly enquiring if Wolf had told her how shortly he was going to leave them? To which Jessy, much surprised at the abruptness of the question, replied — " No, 1 have never heard him once mention it, al- though he has been frequently here lately. How shortly, may I ask, does Wolf embark for India?"- *' In one month hence, as I understand," answered Agatha. " I am excessively rejoiced to hear it, are not you, my dear Agatha?" cried Jessy. But there was an interval of some moments before her ladyship replied, and then her manner was some- what marked with hesitation, because she felt afraid of saying too much on the subject, and therefore scarcely 388 THB fisher's daughter. said any thing at all, to the utter astonishment of Jessy, who not being bound by the sanae restrictions as her lovely friend, without disguise launched forth into the warmest praises on the perfections of Wolf, hoping that in all his wanderings in a foreign clime, success and the most prosperous good fortune might attend him. " For I am sure that he merits the good opinion of all his admirers here," added Jessy 5 *' he is without exception one of the most noble fine spirited youths I ever knew, and he is so clever, yet without being vain of talents which so rarely fall to the lot of other young men at his age." " You do not overrate his good qualities, most cer^ tainly, my dear Jessy," uttered Agatha, after a very thoughtful pause ; "but genuine talent is never assum-p jng, for the consciousness of its own worth sets it above the paltry consideration of vanity ; it will always shine, even in obscurity, and reflects back lustre on itself, in spite of the envious sneers that would crush it to the dust, or glory in its downfall. But while talking of Wolf, we must not forget Alfred ; he is equally as amiable, though he is not gifted with so great a versav tility of talent." Jessy acknowledged that he was so, and most hear- tily concurred in the favourable opinion of her friend. <^ He will ^hine in the pulpit, do you not think so ?" cried Jessy. To which Agatha replied— ^^ Yes, when he arrives at that preferment, there is no doubt to be entertained but he will be both an ac-r quisilion and an ornament to so sacred a calling ; he is ^f 50 mild and gentle disposition, and his manners and THE vishbr's daughter. 3B9 deportment are full of sweetness and urbanity. None else should methinks become representatives of the church." Jessy perfectly assented to this remark of her lovely friend, whom she thought uncommonly grave, and out of her usual quiet temperature of spirits, but she deli- cately forbore to make the slightest comment that would appear prying or inquisitive; and soon after, the subject of Wolf and Alfred was changed, to talk of the approaching nuptials, which were now so speedily to take place between Lord Winstone and the Lady Lavinia Montault, which were to be cele- brated in the most splendid and magnificent manner at the Castle of Montault, with every appendage and ceremony that was due to their exalted rank. No- thing was talked of in the town of Cromer, but the preparations which were making for this so long ex- pected and important day, at which Lord and Lady Montague Montault were of course to be present, his Grace the Duke of Braganza having faithfully promised to give the youthful bride away. A most sumptuous dinner was prepared for the bridal party, which on the morning that Agatha visited Jessy, wanted but another day for the consummation of the happy nup- tials. " I should scarce remember ever having beheld Lord Winstone, but for one particular circumstance,*' utter- ed Jessy, " and that is, because my poor sister Olive was with us on the evening that we encountered both him and Sir George Clevland on horseback, as we were returning from my cousin Margarette Craftly's. Do you renfiember how indecorously both these gentlemen 390 THE fisher's daughter. behaved, and that your influence alone prevailed in making them desist from the bold familiar manner in which they addressed us ? How I trembled, and how Olive laughed ! yet you made them sensible of the im- propriety of their conduct, and both gentlemen made an ample apology, and quietly left us to pursue our way ; but for this circumstance I certainly should never have recollected Lord Winstone or his fashionable companion, for you know, my dear Agatha, we lived so retired at the residence of my father at Herring Dale, that he would never permit us to go beyond it, and our station was too humble to attract the attention of such elevated personages as Lord Winstone and Sir George Clevland, whose manners I thought extremely disgust- ing, because they actually seemed to take delight in staring humble modesty out of countenance." To which Agatha, half smiling at the sweet simpli- city of her gentle friend, replied — " Yes, my dear, it has become a species of amuse- ment, of which young noblemen of the present fashion- able day are extremely partial. Lord Winstone, how^- ever, must be considered an exception to the general rule, and when not under the influence of the god of wine, conducts himself towards the female sex in a manner which reflects honour both on his heart and his understanding. He is excessively attacked to Lady Lavinia, and will no doubt make her ladyship an excel- lent husband." Some caresses were now lavishly bestowed on little Matilda, who gave every promise of being a healthy and thriving child, with such uncommon loveliness, that Agatha could not help again remarking her extraor- J^ THE FISHERS DAUGHTER. 391 dinary likeness to her unfortunate aunt, ^liss Blust, although the softness of expression was that of her mother's gentle kind; and Agatha again stooping forward to kiss the beauteous little creature_, ex- claimed — " Well, positively Jessy, the Fisher's Daughter will be a paragon of beauty ; every day, every hour, she grows more sweetly interesting ; what a chaming play- mate she will make for my little Orlando by and bye ; almost of an age, and equally good humoured and playful, they will delight in each other's company, and thus cement a more lasting friendship, when they ar- rive at a more ripened season of their lives." Agatha uttered this smilingly, and certainly with no particu- lar meaning attached to it; but she coloured deeply on recollection that it was the most highly improper one she could think of addressing to Jessy, and one that if Lord Montague had listened to, would have excited his severest reprehension, for it was morally impossible to imagine that however lovely or passion- ately attached she might be to the mother of the child, that his lordship had formed views for his son of quite so humble a nature, as to seek a matrimonial alliance with a Fisher's Daughter, or that the proud, haughty, and rebellious Spirit of the Marchioness of Montault would ever acknowledge her grandson, should his heart ever yield to an attachment below his high birth and splendid riches. Agatha therefore blushed deeply as Jessy fixed her' eyes upon her expressive features as she addressed to her this incautious speech, and a painful sensation alternately took possession of them for a few moments. 392 THE fisher's daughter. without either being able to impart to the other the nature of their feelings. At length Agatha, pressing her friend's hand with the most affectionate fervour, exclaimed — " I was wrong Jessy, in what I just now uttered, highly blameable ; 1 have no right to predict in such an instance, and still less right to be forming connec- tions, even though only in embryo, for your infant daughter, and the son of Lord Montague Montault ; not but what I — " Agatha stopped, and Jessy ex- claimed — " Hold, Lady Agatha, and do not forget the immea- surable distance there would be between a daughter of mine and a son of your ladyship's ; for heaven's sake repress such a thought, for Lord Montague's sake and your own ; and believe not that I am so presumptu- ously vain, as to raise hopes so fallacious, or expecta- tions so visionary for my child, who, if it pleases Pro- vidence that she should arrive at womanhood, will be taught to know her station better, than to encourage hopes which never can be realized. No, dearest Aga- tha, Matilda and Lord Orlando must never meet, or be thrown into each others way promiscuously^ My child must never be the victim of disappointed passion and misplaced attachment of the heart ; from such a fate avert my darling girl." *^ Come, Jessy, you are now growing too serious on a subject on which I was only jesting," cried Agatha; " I was only thinking of the two little creatures as likely to become playmates, not lovers*" " But it would be no jest, if it were to prove other- wise at a more ripened age," uttered Jessy, her lovely THK fisher's daughter. 395 complexion paling at the bare apprehension of such a thought. *' Agatha, dear Agatha ! never mention this subject again so lightly, 1 beseech you. There is ter- ror in the veiy sound of ill requited love, and apostasy of lover's vows ; you know there is, and you also know how deeply my heart has bled for it. The name of my cousin Craftly is still remembered in the memory of her he so treacherously deceived, and makes a mother tremble for herxihild." '' Dearest Jessy, pray forgive me if I have, uninten- tionally heaven knows, wounded your feelings," ex- claimed Agatha, most affectionately embracing Jessy as she was about to depart. ** I meant not to recall such painful recollections to your mind, but a mere badinage on our two little moppets, who are yet too young to incur the danger you apprehend so seriouslv. It will be time enough to talk of these fears, and cherish these thoughts some ten years hence, but now it is really very silly of you, dearest Jessy." Jessy pressed the lovely hand that was extended to- wards her in silence, and quickly recoveiing her self- possession, kindly bade her adieu, Agatha promising her that she would call on her again the day after the wed- ding. " For I have a commission of some moment to entrust you with a charge of, Jessy ; you only can dis- charge that faithfully to the wishes of your friend. Adieu ma chere amie .'" On her return home, to her utter surprise she be« held Wolf in earnest conversation with Lord Monta gue and her father, the latter of whom herd a volume in his hand of a young author, the composition of whose works he was discanting on wiih great force and energv. b\7 3o 394 THE fjsher's daughter. He had died in the full bloom of youth, and before his lively and animated genius was half expanded. " I. do not altogether admire his works/' uttered his Grace, *^ although Wolf you seem to have quoted him as an example of sublime poetry, of which he never possessed a particle." " I pray your Grace to pardon me," uttered Wolf, " You cannot for a moment imagine that I should pre- sumptuously wage war with your Grace's opinion on that subject ; I only speak of the poem which so par- ticularly attracted my attention, as being figuratively poetical ; a meed which envy would hardly deny to the lamented son of genius, and that is, your Grace, the poem which comes under the title of the Ring, or more properly speaking. The Wedding Day." " Ah !" cried his Grace; " the wedding day! egad it is a case in point, for to-morrow is the wedding day of an object in whom we shall all take the most lively interest. Suppose you read that poem to us while Montague and 1 are drinking our wine, after which I will give you my opinion on the style of composition, vi'hich is so avowedly the theme of your admiration. Wolf took the volume presented to him by the hand of his patron, and bowing respectfully, in a clear and melodious voice, read aloud the following, entitled The Ring, from the muse of his favourite bard, to which his Grace and Lord Montague listened with profound attention. THE fisher's daughter. 395 The Ring, or JVedding Day, The hai>py day at length arrived When Rupert was to wed The fairest maid in Saxony, And take her to his bed. As soon as morn was in the sky, The feasts and sports began, The men admired the hapj^y maid, The maids the happy man. In many a sweet device of mirth, The day was pass'd along, And some the featly dance amused, And some the dulcct song. ' The younger maids with Isabel Disported through the bowers, And deck'd her robe, and crown'd her head. With motley hridal flowers The matrons all in rich attire. Within the castle walls, Sat listening to the choral strains That echoed through the halls. Young Rupert and his friends appear'd, And nothing could he find, But to the castle did return With sore bewilder'd mind. Within he found them all in mirth. The night in dancing flew ; The youth another ring procured. And none the adventure knew. And now the priest has join'd their hands The hours of love advance, Rupert almost forgets to think Upon the mom's mischance. 396 THE FnHER's DAUGHTBR, CHAPTER XVIII. *• If 1 ana traduced by tongues, Which neither know my faculties or power, Yet will be the chronicle of my undoing. Let me say, 'tis but the fate of place. And the rough brake That virtue must go through." Shakespbare. A LIGHT step and a gentle rap at the door of the apartment announced a visitor to the reading party, who, however, received an agreeable interruption, by the unexpected entrance of the Lady Agatha, whose lovely presence rose-tinted the cheeks of poor Wolf, and, most unfortunately for him, he betrayed an agi- tation which he would have found it difficult to conceal from the observation of Lord Montague, if his Grace had not bid him postpone the reading of the poem to some future opportunity ; for his voice, which but a mo- ment before was firm and energetic, would inevitably have altered the tenor for which it was remarkable, from the faultering manner in which he replied to Lady Agatha's " How d'ye do. Wolf?" with— " I hope I have the honour of seeing your ladyship well." *' I fear, my dear, Montague, I have interrupted THE fisher's daughter. 397 business," uttered Agatha, after having answered the enquiry of Wolf, in a tone of peculiar kindness. " Wolf was reading, when I came in, something inter- esting, I presume; pray do not let him discontinue it on my account, for I must positively vanish in less than ten minutes, to fulfil a very particular engagement I have made without your permission, my dear lord. It is now exactly six, and I have ordered the carriage pre- cisely at seven; I have therefore only just time to dress." ** But may I enquire where your ladyship is going ?" cried Lord Montague, and smiled, perceiving that she was only having a little badinage with him ; " if I may be allowed to adopt so unfashionable a habit, as to make an enquiry so contrary to the etiquette of the modern man and wife, in order that I may join your party some time in the evening, and conduct you safe home again." To which Agatha, with an air of the most fascinating sweetness, and directing an arch look towards his Grace, replied — " I believe his Grace can inform you, my lord, of the particular nature of my engagement this evening, for he was present when it was made, and is, if I mis- take not, one of the invited guests on the occasion." "Indeed!'* cried Lord Montague, highly pleased with this intelligence ; " I have then some idea of ^rhere you are going, my love, and shall enquire no further.'' ** Yes, you will certainly hear of me at the Castle of Montault," cried Agatha, as she arose to quit the apartment to retire to her dressing room, where her attendant Beda was already waiting for her; and she 398 enquired what her lovely mistress intended to wear for the evening party at the Marchioness's. *^ Which, 1 dare say will be excessively crowded, your ladyship," cried Beda, " because it is the last time that Lady Lavinia will appear in public before she is married to Lord Winstone, they do say. Well, I wish them happy ; every body should be happy when they marry, should 'nt they, my lady ?" " Yes, and after they marry too, Beda^ or they had better never marry at all," uttered Agatha, whose fond- ness for her little merry waiting maid in the ruins of the Old Abbey had never been diminished, since she had taken her under her own protection ; and although greatly improved in the prettiness of her person, man-, ners, and conversation, the genuine simplicity of Beda's character still remained. What she thought she gene- rally uttered in the same moment, and with the same in- nocence and purity of heart, and that heart was faith- fully attached to her lovely mistress, who certainly in-' dulged Beda with a privilege which none but C]aribelle had ever enjoyed, that of being always near her person, and holding unreserved conversation with her. Agatha looked on the daughter of Michello as a child of nature, simplicity, and feeling, and as she grew more ripened in years, and mature in judgment, she became more at- tached to her little favourite than ever, who being in a talkative mood, while she assisted at the toilet of her mistress, continued to make her remarks and observa- tions just as she thought proper, without receiving the slightest check from her beautiful auditor. " Ah 1 you are right my dear lady," exclaimed she ; " it is a great pity for people to marry that don't love THE fisher's daughter. 399 one another, and I will never marry where my hand and my heart does not go into the bargain ; but some- times, my lady, the heart goes first, and the hand won't follow it/' . . Beda both blushed and sighed deeply as she made this remark, and Agatha, somewhat surprised at the confusion she exhibited, immediately replied — " Yes, when affections are improperly bestowed, im- pediments are very justly thrown in the way, to frus- trate designs that may neither be strictly honourable, or strictly creditable to the feelings ; but we will con- verse on this subject, Beda, when you are some years older; you are at present too young to talk about en- gagements of the heart or the hand. My dear child they will come fast enough, and with them cares innu- merable." The roseate colour which always bloomed on the face of Beda had gradually paled to the conclusion of Agatha's speech, and a tremulous agitation possessed her whole frame; tears started to her eyes, and her lovely mistress, deeply concerned at such unusual symptoms, exclaimed — . " For heaven's sake, wherefore this agitation, my dear girl ? What is the cause of it, tell me truly ?" " First tell me, dear lady, whether it be a crime to love one that don't love you again, and never may ?" uttered Beda, in the most confused accents. *' ft is a great misfortune," answered Agatha, ^^but it depends upon thepeculiarity of circumstances to call it a crime ; but I must insist upon you, Beda, to explain yourself more explicitly." *^ And so I will, dear lady, if you will not chide poor 400 THE fisher's daughter. Beda for her folly. But no, you will not, when you know the truth of it; you are so kind and so gentle, that I do not fear to tell you, lady," " Folly ?" uttered Agatha, now altering both her countenance and her manner towards her; and in a voice of severe reprehension. " And do you then iin- blushingly own that you have been guilty of folly, and imagine that you are to escape from my severity, Beda ? You are under a mistake if you suppose that [ am quite so pliant to your faults. Come, dry those tears, which will have no avail, if you do not instantly give me a very proper and conclusive expla- nation of the cause of your present agitation ; when I know that, I shall be able to know whether you deserve my severity or not." Poor Beda, wholly unprepared for this change in her lovely mistress, from whom she had never experienced but the most gentle treatment, could scarcely sob out her little short detail of the secret which had burned so long in her youthful bosom, which was interrupted with many sighs and tears, and proved nothing more nor less than a confession of a strong attachment for the young Wolf, which she protested he was a total stranger to, never having spoken familiarly to him since he was in the ruins of the Old Abbey ; and that she had tried all manner of means to prevent the ascendancy he held over her heart, but all her efforts had proved ineffec • tual, insomuch that when she heard from Mr. Law- rence, as she did last night, that Mr. Wolf was going to take his departure for India, she had wept all night at the thoughts of it, in the fear that she might never behold him again. TfiE fisher's daughter. 401 "And this is all I have got toicll you, my lady, about my conduct ; and indeed it is all true, that love comcs' and goes whenever it pleases, and will not stay to be. asked. Indeed, indeed, 1 could not help loving IMr. Wolf, but 1 am very sure he don't lo\'e mt/' There was a sort of expression in the look whith Beda now directe*! towards her beauteous lady, that, without her being conscious of it, sprcad a crimson hue over her face and bosom, the nature of which Aga- tha could not herself have defined, even if she had been asked the question. But this had nothhig to do with Beda's artless and ingenuous confession of her passioM for Wolf, which, though it required an immediate check and gentle remonstrance, yet was neither criminal or im- prudent ; as it was by no means an unnatural or impro- bable circumstance, that so handsome a young man as Wolf unquestionably was, should have attracted the attention, and even excited the admiration of such a girl as Beda, who, viewing him in the humble situation in which he then appeared, imagined that his quality and his birth were no more exalted than her own. It was therefore not very unlikely that Beda did not believe he was superior to her in any one respect, or that it was imprudent to own that she entertained a parti- ality to the young wandering stranger, whom she con- sidered only as a vassal in the establishment of her illustrious master ; and she frequently wondered that he kept himself so much aloof from forming any inti- macy with the higher order of the domestics in Lord Montague's noble mansion, whose authority was far greater than his had ever been. But Wolf had too much pride to form any such connections j and though cl7 3e 402 THE fisher's daughter. beheld by all the females with a too |>artial e^e of favour, he sedulously avoided any attentions from them which at all approached to familiarity, and conse- quently forced from them that respect which was due to the rank of a superior. Alfred had preserved the same system of conduct, and it was probable that Al- fred knew that he was so, and therefore they never at- tempted at taking the slightest liberties with him, more than what good manners allowed. Unconscious, however, of the passion which he had inspired iu the breast of the youthful Beda, who was really a very pretty and attractive female, Wolf relaxed much from his haughty demeanour whenever chance or opportunity threw her in his way ; but the favour she gained in his eyes was only because he knev/ her to be a favourite of the Lady Agatha's ; and the scenes to which she had been familiar in the Old Abbey, made him, under every severity he had suifered there, con- verse with her more unreservedly than with the rest of the female establishment. It is true that Wolf had often seen Beda blush, and heard Beda sigh^ but not a whisper of vanity suggested to him that either the blush or the sigh were expressed for him ; in short, he would proudly have repelled such a thought, had any one presumed to have laid it to his account ; for he was so utterly involved in one passion alone that form- ed the light of his existence, that he would have been cold to the charms of a Venus de Medicis, had they so been offered for his acceptance. Love, however, they say, has eyes when all other eyes are shut, and they are those of the w^atchfol lynx; atnd Beda was not blind, she had seen Wolf's colour THE fisher's daughter. 403 change alternately from red to pale, at the very men- tion of the Lady Agatha, and that in her presence he always wore an air of embarrassment, though of admi- ration, very difficult to be held within bounds. His uncommon, nay almost idolizing fondness for the young Orlando, that was the very image of its beau- teous mother, also made the little alert Beda ever watchful, while she in her bosom cherished a passion no strong and ardent for an object so perfectly uncon- scious of the flame with which that bosom burned, and whose advances towards her were so utterly cold and indifferent. But poor Beda never revealed to mortal what were her secret thoughts, or her secret passion for young Wolf, till she was convinced that that passion was completely hopeless ; for Beda was no longer a stranger to where her idol would have paid his vows, had he dared, or had he been permitted to have bowed at her shrine. It was the daughter of Braganza, her young and lovely mistress, who had first taught his heart to love, and he could not hide it in epiteof the 6rmest resolution he could adopt. For one morning soon after the recent confinement of the Lady Agatha, she was suddenly seized with faintness in the nursery, with her beauteous babe on her lap, when no other witnesses were present but Beda and Wolf, (the attendant nurse having just quitted the apartment on some domestic occupation,) when young Wolf sprang forward to her assistance, snatched the infant from her feeble grasp, and resigning it to the care of Beda, bore his beauteous burthen into the open air, sprinkled wa- ter on her face, and by every other restorative, very tsoon had the satisfaction of seeing her raised to a state 404 THS fisher's DAUtiHTER. of sensibility, betraying such emotions, that no art couJd conceal what anxiety he had endured during the interval of her so sudden indisposition. Not that a sentence had escaped the lips of Wolf to express that anxiety ; he was profoundly silent, while ia his arms he bore the lovely form of the Lady Agatha; but his looks conveyed w^hole volumes which he dared not give utterance to. Beda had not quitted the chamber, and from this incident, marked with some others, she soon guessed at the idol of young Wolf's secret adora- tion ; it w^as the transcendant charms of her beauteous lady that had inspired the heart of Wolf with love as hopeless as unconquerable ; but never to mortal ear had Beda whispered that such was her conjecture, and it was probable that on her own part she would never have told her love, ** Bu< let conceahneut, like a worm in the hud. Feed ou her damask cheek," if t^yc tfiODgbts of never more beholdlDg the object of her aifections had not wrung the confession from her panting heart. But what the sensations of the Lady Agatha were on the disclosure of that passion from the lips of the art- less girl, it was hardly possible to define, as her beau- tiful countenance underwent many variations, both of colour and of expression, while she told her plain un- varnished tale to the confiding ear of her gentle mis- tress, who, however, after an interval of silence for some moments, thus calmly and collectedly addressed the trembling girl, who was almost sinking with shame and Gonfusion at her feet. THE fishi'r's dalghter. 405 ^* Rise lietla, and endeavour to con)pose yourself] I desire you to listen to me in that manner which it is your duty to do to your protectress, and which I, being your protectress, feel it my duty to require of you : for the afTcciions of the heart, as far as they are consistent with female delicacy and virtue, I admit every reasonable pica, for they are involuntary, and few are possessed of suflicient fortitude to withstand a temptation so fnrmitiablcj or resist a weakness so as- sailing to youthful and inexperienced minds. Your confession is ingenuous, but that is the only part of it that I can view in a favourable light, or tolerate with propriety ; for you have shewn a preference for an ob- ject Avho is by no means your equal, although you may consider him so, and who having shewn none you will know better than to give your heart away to one who is in- sensible of the gift. Wolf will depart for India shortly; in the meantime you must think no more of him than as one far above your station ; and remember that I will not repeat this command, 1 expect to be obeyed with- out a murmur from your lips, or a comment being made on the severity your folly has extorted from me. No tears ! shed them in silence and contrition, and re- tire and reflect on the admonition I have given you; at a future time you will thank me for it." Beda was heartily glad of leaving the presence of her offended lady in silence, and in obedience to her command, determined that she would never fall in love with any young man again, if it was to cost her existence. In the meanwhile Agatha chastised herself for being so severe to her little favourite, for a failing so natural at her youthful age, and what so many older, and even wiser heads than Beda's could scarcely have resisted. She resolved, however, ever after this discovery to have a vigilant eye over her conduct, in order that she might form no imprudent connection, without her being fully aware of who the object was ; for the father of this ^irl, she reflected, was an Italian, and that Italian was Paulo Michello ; some of his propensities of disposition might be hereditary in his daughter, and if so, now was the time to turn the current to another source. But how highly did she think of Wolf ! If vanity he had not, THE fisher's daughter. 40/ he had certainly discernment, and he must have per- ceived the impression he had made on the heart of the youthful Beda; yet he prudently avoided all familiarity with so seducing an object, even when she courted his attention. More grave than usual, after having snatched a kiss of her beauteous boy, Agatha, elegantly but simply at- tired, joined her father and husband in the drawing room, and from thence, escorted by his Grace, she de- scended to her carriage, which instantly proceeded to the Castle of Montault, Lord Montague having pro- mised to join her there in the course of the evening. The Marquis met his august brother and his lovely daughter-in-law at the grand entrance, and led her in triumph to the rooms, which were most brilliantly at- tended by a numerous and elegant assemblage of fa- shionable guests. - The heat was intense, notwith- standing a beautiful veranda that was laid open with the most fragrant and odoriferous flowers of the choicest collection, **' How divinely handsome Lady Montault looks to- night," uttered a fashionable Baronet, in a whisper to his companion. In answer to which he replied — " Yes, and what is really wonderful, she is without her Cerberus to guard her. He is cursedly jealous of his pretty wife ; have you heard that, Balfour ?" " And a cursed fool into the bargain,*' cried Balfour, '* to imagine that no man will dare to feast his eyes on her besides himself. For my part I am of opinion that every pretty woman is fair game, and it is robbing her of her prerogative not to stare her out of countenance.'' " So I think, my boy, and would instantly adopt 408 THE FWHER*^ DAUGHTER. your persuasion,'* uttered he, '' if there was not aw old dragon sitting beside her. Egad, there's no Hes- perian fruit to be tasted there, without paying too dearly by the tax that is imposed on it." A loud unmeaning laugh from Sir Harry, assented to his friend's remark, without either of them having the temerity to approach the lovely magnet, vi^hose superior beauty and graceful modesty had attracted all' eyes towards her. Both the Marchioness and Lady Lavinia were under the influence of the most exhilarating spirits, and both exhibited the most splendid attire, with a profusion of diamonds, none of which could, with all their dazzling brightness, rival those unrivalled charms in their young and lovely relative, who was the theme and admiration of every tongue, and the delight of every eye. Lord Winstone too, frequently caught himself in the act of directing his eyes to where the lovely wife of Lord Montague sat, which was between his Grace and the Marquis of Montliult, with whom she was convers- ing so earnestly, that she did not perceive that she had excited the attention of almost all present, save alone the Marchioness, and her daughter, who was so envious of the superior loveliness of her sister-in-law, and the frequent glances of Lord Winstone, that she betrayed no small show of vexation, and several times answered him with petulant warmth, ^'I have addressed you three times, my lord," utter- ed she, reddening like scarlet ; '' but you are really so employed in observing the party opposite to you, that you have no ears or eyes for any body else.*^' The accusation of her ladyship was certainly not 409 without some truth, and crimsoned the cheek of Lord Winstone with a sense of confusion he could not con- ceal. To appease his little offended beauty, therefore, he whispered with an air of the most insinuating soft- ness, well calculated to disperse the dark cloud that had been for some time gathering on her brow — " And will my adored Lavinia accuse me of inatten tion towards her, when like a stationary planet I am always beside her? I was certainly looking at the op- posite party, but not at the object to whom your allu- sion points. It was not Lady Montault that so particu- larly attracted my attention, but a remarkable splendid snuff-box which his Grace the Duke of Braganza has been exhibiting this half hour 3 and to convince my Lavinia how unwilling I was to abandon the station I hold, I would not resign it even for a moment, to go over to your uncle to examine his curious box. Are you satisfied now, my angel ?" Who would not have been satisfied with such an epithet from the lips of the man she adored ? And a smile of reconciliation again played on the roseate lips of Lady Lavinia, to the inexpressible delight of Lord Winstone, who certainly had not the slightest inten- tion of offending her, or becoming an apostate to the shrine at which he was paying his vows, and was so shortly to call his own. But was his lordship ingenuous in the way he had accounted for his truant looks ? Not perfectly so, we believe, but Lady Lavinia thought so, and that was sufficient ; and in spite of her reluctance to quit the side of her lover, good manners and etiquette obliged her to pay some respect to the daughter of Braganza, a IS 3 F 410 THE fisher's daughter. and her august uncle; thetefore approaching Agatha with a smiling air, she exclaimed — " My love, are you a widow bewitched to-night, op a deserted wife, that Montague is not with you ?" *' In neither of those characters, thank heaven !" cried Agatha, in a tone of gravity which reddened the cheek of her fashionable sister-in-law. " Your brother had an engagement with the surveyor of one of his es- tates so indispensably necessary, that he could not at- tend me hither, but 1 expect him to join us in the course of the evening." " But, my dear creature, how do you like my dia- monds ? arc they not prodigiously beautiful ?" ex- claimed her ladyship, perceiving that Agatha had paid no attention to them. " A gift of Winstone's, I assure you. How generous! is'nt he?" To which Agatha replied, half smiling. " If he is not generous now, when do you expect him to be? They are very splendid, but I would have preferred exhibiting them on a certain occasion, my dear Lavinia." " Lord, my dear, I had no patience ; I was abso- lutely dying to wear them long ago, if mamma would have permitted me ; but I coaxed her to night, because I knew what envy they would excite in all the old tabbies, who have so many daughters to whom they cannot give such splendid gifts. Twig the old Dowa- ger, how maliciously she eyes me, with that frump of a niece of her's, the daughter of a Scotch baronet, who has brought all her fortune to town with her in a white pocket handkerchief; and is so excessively proud of her high descent from the clan of the Macgreggors, anc? THE fisher's daughter. 411 the Campbells, and the Glenburnics, and the Allans, and the Ramseys, and half a dozen more Macs and Glens besides, that she imagines, with her carroty locks, goggle eyes, and high cheek bones, she is to exhibit a coronet, by making a conquest of some of the flower of our English nobility. What arrogance ! but I would advise the old Dowager to take Miss Moggy Macgreggor back to the Scotch mountains again, till coronets are more plentiful, and young lords more come-at-able than they are at the present season of an overstocked market of such Caledonian exotics." t Her ladyship at the conclusion of this very delicate and charitable speech laughed so immoderately, that Agatha, who had no inclination either to laugh at, or join her in remarks so excessively illiberal, blushed deeply, in the apprehension that the party on whom she had exercised such unmerciful severity, and who sat with her aunt, the Dowager of Duncannon, at no great distance from them, might have overheard her ladyship; and gently twitching her by the arm, ex- claimed — " For heaven's sake, Lady Lavinia, restrain this im- moderate mirth, and do not sport with the feelings of objects, who cannot, if they hear you, help being wounded by your remarks. Surely the want of fortune ought not to draw upon us either contempt or ridicule from those who are wealthy, and who are so frequently unworthy of the blessings that wealth bestows. Be- sides, my dear, they are the guests of your father, an'^ invited by him to partake of the pleasures of the ban* quet. In this instance, bv offering an insult to thcii 412 THB fisher's daughter. feelings, you are transgressing what ought ever to be held sacred/' " And what is that, my pretty grave sentimental bister?" demanded her ladyship, in no way affected by the observation 5 but to which Agatha sharply re- plied — *' The rights of hospitality, my love, which neither rank, station, or exalted birth, should ever forget." CHAPTER XIX, ** I have no local attachments ; it is indifferent to me whether a man was rocked in his cradle on this or that side the Tweed ; I have sought for merit where it was to be found." Lord Chatham. Whether the objects on whom Lady Lavinia had so improperly exercised her sarcastic pleasantry had overheard any part of it, or whether they felt themselves pointedly neglected by the fashionable hostess of this superb and elegant mansion, who had never once spok- en to them but on their first entrance to the rooms, cannot be enquired into at the present moment ; but it is certain that the amiable Dowager and the lovely Caledonian, Miss Moggy Macgreggor, very suddenly THE FrsHBR*S DAUGHTER, 413 disappeared from among the motley group, with evident chagrin and disappointment portrayed in their coun- tenances. In the meanwhile the Marchioness had been flying about in all directions, to exhibit the blaze of diamonds she wore in her turban cap, and to talk of the ap- proaching nuptials of her daughter with Lord Win- stone, while actually neglecting to pay her duty to those guests which her husband had invited on this splendid occasion. A nod, with a sort of a half forced smile, and a " how d'ye do child ?'* was all the conversation that passed between Agatha and her mother-in-law ; but that was quite sufficient, for she never felt so completely dis- gusted as she did this evening, with the manners of this haughty, proud, and sunercillious relation, who thought every body inferior to her, at the same moment that she was lessening herself in the eyes of those very inferiors that she considered so unworthy of her, but who actu- ally considered her unworthy of them. It was late before Lord Montague arrived 5 he had some conversation on trifling subjects with his mother, and rallied his sister on its being the last time he should address her as Lady Lavinia Montault 5 after which he stole to the side of his lovely wife, who was conversing with several ladies of distinction around her, and avoiding any particular attentions from the opposite sex with the most retiring and modest diffidence, and who hailed the approach of her husband with a love- beaming eye, and a smile of the most resistless fasci- na^on. ** I have thought you so long, my dear lord/' uttered 414 THE FISHER S DAUGHTER. Agatha; but she was not ridiculous enough to pay this compliment to her husband loud enough to be overheard by any other personage there present ; and Lord Montague responded in the same gentle whisper — " And have you indeed, my Agatha, surrounded by this gay and splendid scene, felt so much anxiety for the conversation of your husband ?" *« Can you doubt it, when I tell you that I am weary of the scenes which you imagine possess such charms for me, and would much rather prefer your society by our own domestic fire-side at home, than all the gaiety and splendour in the world, depiived of the company of my husband ?" cried Agatha. For shame. Lord Montague ! how could you possi- bly think of squeezing the hand of your wife in a room full of company, with all eyes staring at you and her, and probably laughing at you both, for being so un- fashionable a married pair 1 However, Lord Montague certainly did squeeze the hand of his wife, in reply to the kind and flattering speech she had addressed to him, in despite of the re- dicule which was attached to it ; and Agatha was heart- ily glad when the hour of departure arrived, and her carriage was called to convey her to her quiet habita- tion at Violet Vale. In a few days from this period. Lady Lavinia gave her hand to Lord Winstone, and be- haved like all brides generally do on such occasions. The solemnization of the nuptials was splendid in the extreme, and the liberality of the bridegroom, in dispensing charitable donations to the poor in the neighbourhood of Cromer and the adjacent villagesj \yas the universal theme of praise. THE FISHER S DAUGHTER. 415 The happy pair, as soon as the ceremony was over, after partaking of a most sumptuous entertainment at the Castle of Montault, retired to his lordship's most elegant seat at Winstone Park, where, drawing the bridal curtains close around them, we shall leave them, and wing our flight to Violet Vale, from which Wolf in a very few days was to take his final departure; all his necessaries being already embarked, there remained no- thing more than a mandate from the captain to inform his Grace what day the ship sailed. Whatever were the internal feelings of Wolf on this occasion, they were manfully and vigorously suppressed in the presence of those objects in whose judgment he did not wish to lessen himself. He was going to a post of hoiK)ur, and be was to exalt himself by his actions ; they depended on his conduct alone, and he determined to exert every nerve and faculty he posses- sed, to prove worthy of the protection of his august patron. His Grace, on hearing the petition of poor Lawrence not to be separated from his pupil, (which was so urgent, and contained so affecting an appeal to his feelings,) after a few hours consultation with Lord Montague, very nobly and generously acceded to his request ; finding that his affection for this youth was on a basis not easily to be shaken, and that no sinister motive of worldly interest was to be attached to the resolution he had taken in accompanying him to a foreign clime. " And pray Lawrence,'* uttered his Grace, after hav- ing taken into serious consideration the written appli- cation he had made him, " what are your expectations in this affair ? Of course they must be such as to make 416 THE FISHER S DAUGHTER. you independent of the young man, for whom you feel such extraordinary and deep interest; for from his means you cannot gather your resources 5 he will be provided for himself, but the provision made for him cannot be extended to a second object 5 he cannot af- ford to keep you, if you cannot keep yourself, and this is coming to the point at once, in order that you may not deceive yourself hereafter. Wolf has no patri- mony, save that which is given to him ; his fortune must depend on his courage and his sword, and though I do not think they will ever remain inactive in the service of his sovereign and his country, yet a soldier's laurels very seldom yield an abundant harvest, in com- parison to the difficulty with which they have been obtained. They are something like the poet's, scanty enough ; I would have you therefore reflect on this your so sudden resolution, before you accompany him to a far distant clime, for you are to consider, Law- rence, that while time is scattering roses on his youth- ful brow, that it is also scattering snow on yours ; be can contend with danger and with difficulty which you cannot. Moreover, he has not the means of offering you an asylum from those difficulties, Lawrence. You have now heard my sentiments on this subject, I shall now be glad to hear your's ; you may speak freely, and without the shadow of an offence to me. I admire your steady affection for this youth ; I do not deter you from following your inclinations, I only wish to apprize you of the difficulties and dangers to which, at your season of life, you will necessarily be exposed, if you have nothing independent of his means to provide for you." THE fisher's daughter. 417 A pause ensued, which certainly was not imme- diately filled up by the tutor, who thought that some part of his Grace's observations were, as far as respected himself, indelicate and severe ; for he was not going to seek a livelihood at his age of a poor unfriended boy, who at best was but a dependant on his Grace's bounty ; he had never once hinted at such a thing in the written application he had made to accompany Wolf on the continent ; and having no self-interest at all connected with the affection he felt for the youth, he was deeply hurt at being suspected of it in the slightest degree whatever; and wishing to exculpate himself in the clearest manner possible from any such imputation, he placed his hand on his heart, and ad- dressed his Grace in the following explicit, and most unquestionably creditable terms, which reflected the highest honour both to his heart and his under- standing. '* Your Grace, in the light you now look upon my conduct, with the offer of my services to Mr. Wolf, has not been made with your usual judgment, or, permit me to say, your Grace would never have mistaken me both for a fool and a rogue at the same time." '^ I did not take you for either, sir," uttered his Grace, surprised at the extraordinary warmth which had involuntarily spread itself all over his features. " Pray have the goodness to explain yourself; why have I taken you either for a rogue or a fool, tell me why?" To which Lawrence slowly and deliberately answered — " Because your Grace is well aware that 1 should have been a fool to have ventured on a hazardous voy- blS 3g 418 JKfc^ fisher's daughter. age to a far distant country with a young man who had not more than the means of supporting himself, and that 1 should have been the greatest scoundrel in existence, to have lived meanly on the generosity of his disposition. No, your Grace, I would scorn to do any such thing, when I know myself to be a man of so dif- ferent a persuasion, so different a principle. I love Mr. Wolf for himself alone, and wish to calculate more on his happiness than my own, by taking this voyage with him. I do not impoverish him, or wish to do so, for I have saved a patrimony of my own by honest in- dustry ; it is sufficient for my wants, which content makes temperate, and more perhaps than I may re- quire while a sojourner in this world's earthly space. I am as a plant in the blasted heath, and when it pleases Providence that I should fall to the ground, there is no one to rise from my ashes, or to lament my departure. Never to mortal has my heart yearned so greatly as to this youth, and if 1 have singled him out among the million for an old man's blessing, let not your Grace call that folly, which seemeth only reason, and that madness, which has been the effect of mature considera- tion. Pardon me, your Grace, if 1 have spoken my thoughts too freely ; but you bade me speak freely, and I scorn to utter falsehoods." Astonished and confounded by a retort he so little expected, and ashamed of having borne down too hard- ly on the feelings of the old gentleman, his Grace ex- pressed his regret that so much had been said on either side of the question, that he was fully aware of the propriety of his conduct respecting his pupil, that his attention to him during the progress of his studies was a THE fisher's daughter. 419 €ufficieijt proof that he was an object of his regard, i» consequence of which he would be the last to inapede his wish of being Wolf's companion in his voyage to India, well knowing that he would always have a friend and adviser to consult with him, and whose experience -and judgment were so far superior to his own. In short, his Grace was so highly pleased with the can- dour and the good sense of Lawrence, that he conclud- ed his conversation with him, by informing him that he should undertake to pay all the expences of his voyage, and other necessaries which were requisite for the occasion. ** But I positively will receive no thanks at the pre- sent moment," uttered his Grace. " Send your pupil to me at an early hour in the morning." Lawrence bowed profoundly, and retired, but his heart was too full to obtain any refreshing slumber till he had iinburthened some of his thoughts to bis young favourite, whom he discovered in his chamber, in deep and earnest conversation with his brother Alfred, whose dejected countenance and spiritless manner but too plainly bespoke what was passing in his heart, at the thoughts of being separated from an object, in whom ^t present were concentrated all his earthly affections. And by way of consolation.. Lawrence immediately related the conversation he had been having with the Duke of Bi-aganza, and of his generous intentions to* wards him, which account was highly satisfactory to the feelings of Wolf. " Ah ! would that it were possible I were admitted a third companion in your voyage, dear Wolf," cried Alfred, tears filling his bright and azure eyes, which 420 THE Wisher's daughter. he seemed to have no power of suppressing, when he reflected how soon the parting hour was drawing near. *' But my dear brother, though absent, shall we not live in each other's affection and memory?" responded Wolf, not wishing to yield to a weakness which would presently disarm him of the fortitude that he was ac- customed to possess on important occasions, in a man- ner that proved how vigorous was his mind whenever exertion called it forth. " We shall beside, correspond daily too, and that will be a delightful occupation both to you and me Alfred. What an interchange of thought and sentiment shall we not have together ! You will tell me of your gradations as they rise or fall, and I in return will give you shreds and patches of a soldier's life. You mount the pulpit, and I carry a pair of co- lours. Thus shall we both ascend the ladder of pre- ferment, although in different ways. Then * There's a sweet smiling cherub thai sits up aloft/ Don't you know the fisher's song, Alfred ? That che- rub will take care of both our lives, till we behold each other again." " There's little doubt of that, Mr. Wolf," uttered Lawrence, much affected at the peculiar manner in which Wolf was endeavouring to animate the dejected spirits of his brother, and to prepare him for their se- paration. " While you so implicitly rely on the good- ness of Providence for protection, it will never abandon you to despair, you may depend upon it." As Wolf had much to say to the gentle Jessy before he went to take his last farewell of his former kind THE fisher's daughter. 421 protector, honest Peter, he took a walk to Mr. Russel's one evening by himself, and found Jessy alone, nursing her little girl ; he immediately informed her that be should shortly set sail for India. " 'Tis a long and perilous voyage, dear Wolf," ut- tered Jessy, and sighed deeply, for Jessy was tender- hearted, yet quickly recovering her self-possession, *' but it is all for the best that you are going, all things considered." Jessy coloured, she did not mean to make choice of this expression. And Wolf replied, in a tone that seemed to come from the very recesses of his heart's core : — '' Yes, all things considered, I think my voyage to India, or to the antipodes, Jessy, preferable to staying here; any where rather than here! — Oh God! to wit- ness — . Jessy — Jessy! heed not what I say. It is wrong, it is foolish, it is madness, folly I pray Jessy, heed it not ; pray pardon me, we'll talk of other things. How's your father? Alas! I once called him father, and then I was happy ! O how happy ! those days will never return, Jessy V There was a wildness both in the look and manner of Wolf at this precise moment, which, though it wrung her heart, Jessy by no means wished to encou- rage ; and hastily dismissing the subject, she ex- claimed — " Dear Wolf, we should never count the days that are gone by, you know, but always look forwards to those which are to come, some of which may produce as much happiness as those you regret so deeply the loss of. I should not wish this girl, for instance, to 422 THE fisher's daughter* remain alvrays as she is now, yet I am very happy to see her so sweetly enga^^ing ; but in a few years she will make me happier Wolf, so will your days ihat are yet in the web of time, if you will be patient. Heaven alone can tell what events may fill up the space of our existence, and some of those may be both prosperous and happy to you, dear Wolf; and why should they not ? unless you encourage thoughts that — " Here Jessy made a full stop again, much to the re- lief of poor Wolf, who, after an apparent conflict with some powerful feeling, which seemed to swell his proud heart almost to burstmg, exclaimed — " I will do nothing, dear Jessy, to reflect discredit on my thoughts ; but I cannot promise you that when absent they will not stray to a recollection of objects so dear and sacred to my memory, that I must cease to exist ere they can be forgotten. I have one request to make to you, dear Jessy ; perhaps it is a presumptuous^ one, yet in pity do not deny it; it may be the last I shall ever live to make to Jessy; and refusing it to poor unhappy Wolf, when she hears that he is numbered with the dead, she will then reproach herself for hav- ing been so unkind, in rejecting the only boon he ever asked." Jessy smiled, and extending her hand towards the agitated Wolf, replied — " You give me no opportunity of refusing or com- plying with your request, whatever it be, if you will not tell me the nature of it. Come name it, dear Wolf, and be not thus agitated. Does it relate to an object that I would not willingly offend, by consenting;^ to any proposal of yours that might be called impro- THE fisher's daughter. 423 per? tell me then, is Lady iMoiitauU concerned in the request you have to make to me?" To which Wolf immediately replied, with his face covered over with the deepest blushes — " Noj Jessy, Lady Montault has no concern in it. I am as tenacious of her name as you can possibly be, believe me, and will ipt mention it again while I am here ; it concerns yourself Jessy, yourself alone : and it is, to hope that you will think there is no impro- priety in my keeping up a correspondence with you, and will not fail to answer my letters whenever I ad- dress any to you ; promise me this, and you will make me the happiest fellow in existence !" After an interval of silence, Jessy gravely replied — ^■ " If my corresponding with you, dear Wolf, can be of the slightest service to you, or afford you the least possible satisfaction, I will cheerfully comply with your wishes, on one condition, and that I must stipulate for, or otherwise, (though I should feel pain in refusing you,) deny your request altogether, and that is, that Samuel may be apprized of our correspondence, for you cannot imagine that I would write to any one with- out the knowledge and approbation of my husband ?" " I do not expect it, dear Jessy," uttered Wolf, and waiting for her final answer, which was given in the affirmative, he expressed his sincere acknowledgment for her willingness to oblige him in a point where he felt his happiness so materially concerned ; after which, kissing the snowy forehead of Jessy's pretty babe, he affectionately bade her farewell, till he should call again for the last time, at Herring Dale, to take leave of Mr. Blust ; " and then I shall bring Alfred to 424 THE fisher's daughter. bear me company,'* rejoined Wolf. *' Poor fellow he grieves sadly because 1 am going to leave him." ^' The dearest friends must part/' answered Jessy ; *' and though absence may be compared to death, wheif separated from those we love, yet we should nev^r murmur at His decrees, who is so much better able to judge for us than we for ours^ives. Wolf then departed, but met the Fisher and Sam Russel dismounting from their horses, (for they had been on business to Cromer,) at the gate, and he swore by his topsails, that Wolf should go back with him and Sam and take a bit of supper with them ; with which solicitation Wolf felt obliged to comply, well knowing that opposition to the imperative command of Peter Blust, was as futile and unavailing as running against the tide in the middle of the ocean. He had no sooner vaulted out of bis saddle, there- fore, than he seized Wolf by the arm and lugged him into the parlour, where the servant was just going, by order of her mistress, to lay the cloth for supper. In the meantime Jessy bearing the voice of her father, immediately joined them, declaring he h^d done with Wolf what her utmost entreaties could lot;,— prevail upon him to stay and sup on a fine brace of ducks which w^as then at the fire. Peter chuckled and rubbed both his hands, which w^as always the case when he was pleased^ besides, to use his own phrase, he was nearly a sheet in the wind, having dined with an old acquaintance of his in Cro- mer, and he had as yet had nothing to put him out of hu- mour; which misfortune, indeed, very rarely occurred at the house of his son-in-law, whose sole study was THB F1SHKR*S DAUGHTER. 425 to please him ; and from his lovely daughter he never had an unkind or an ungentle word addressed to him in the whole course of his existenpe, with Jessy there- fore he never was offended. « No — no,'* cried he, squatting himself down to table without farther ceremony; " he knew it would'nt do to gammon Peter Blust, and that if he did not turn in and pick a bone with him, that he would never speak to him so long as his name was Peter Blust." The supper was now brought in, and Wolf, without betraying the slightest hesitation to the fisher's positive commands, sat down to partake of a repast, over which the utmost good humour and harmony prevailed. *' Well, how does my lord and my lady do, and the young fry, and the old fry, and the devil's fry that do live in the Castle of Montault?" enquired Peter, now beginning to fill his pipe, and to take his glass of grog. *•' Be they all well and hearty ? and how's miss ? I mean her ladyship, that's got that long thingembob name on the top of her stern, she that were married t other day to the great lord ?" " Lady Lavinia, the daughter of the Marquis of Mon- tault, I presume you mean, sir, who is now the lady of Lord Winstone," cried Wolf, who catching a smile from Jessy, found it morally impossible to preserve his gravity. And Peter, whose little predilection for lords and ladies was too generally known to require any comment, loudly vociferated — " Well, lady or wife, shiver my topsails if I care a rope's yarn whose wife she be, so long as she beau't a wife of mine. None of your fine gentry for my money, except it be my own dear little Agatha Singleton ; I cl8 3h 426 THK fisher's daughter. should have had no objection to she, whether rich or poor. But come lad, why dost thee not drink and be merry ?'\ Wolf replenished his glass at the request of Mr, Blust, who, instead of being one sheet in the wind, was likely to get three before he took his departure fi'om the dwelling of his son-in-law; and as Peter's company was really not very desirable when he had been making such liberal libations to Bacchus^ Wolf was heartily rejoiced when he fell fast asleep at the back of his chair with the pipe in his mouth ; and Jessy^ after bidding Wolf good night, stole softly out of the room, leaving Samuel to take care of her fa- ther, and bestow him safely in the chamber in which he usually slept when he was unable to return to Her- ring Ehile. Over Peter's frailty we must tread lightly, for it was his only fault, and that only when his heart was warmed by every generous sensation, so that a worm would not have received the slightest injury from him, unless it attempted to injure him, Peter had strong prejudices and sirigularitiep, which he never affected to disown : but let it be rcmarked,^ that they were those which always induced him to humanity, and to befriend and aid the unfortunate ; . and that education had done nothing to remove those prejudices, for in this alone the fisher Blust was deficient. The grosser particles therefore still remained in the form in which they were first moulded, and his conclusive opinion of men^s minds, or their merits, extended only to what was verbatim, right or wrong, j^n all they did or said. His cradle had been rocked by r the rough waves of the ocean, and not more stormy THE fisher's daughter. 427 weve his passions ; nature alone could calm them, and when they were so, he was amenable to the softest impressions. R.efinement was entirely out of the ques- tion ; he could only be refined by the feelings of nature, which were so sensitive in this rough son of Neptune, that when conscious of having really wounded the feelings of a fellow creature, there was no humiliation that he would not bend to in order to atone for it, and to be once more restored to harmony and to peace "^vith them. Alas ! can refinement teach us a better lesson ? or polished education give us a higher sense of moral duty to Christianity? It may indeed be conveyed in a different language, but is it always as genuine and sincere ? No, it is more frequently disguised, as the wily serpent is, under a bed of grass, with flowers scattered over its surface, the more certainly to deceive those who credulously trust to its smiting appearance. But in Peter Blust there was no disguise, and no art lay concealed. But to proceed. While the preparations were mak- ing for Wolf's departure, and that of his tutor, for his voyage to India, he had frequent opportunities of being alone both with Lord IVIontague and his lovely wife, on the former of whose mind all impressions of jea- lousy respecting this young man were completely irra- xlicated, the extreme propriety of Wolf's conduct to- wards Lady Montault, and her own irreproachable purity of character, rendered it impossible for a doubt to remain on his lordship*s mind, that the slightest in- discretion could pass between them ; and for the few •days pevious to his embarkation, both Alfred and 428 THE fisher's daughter. Wolf were allowed to dine at the table with Lord Montague and the Lady Agatha, his Grace the Dnkc of Braganza being almost constantly a guest, and who employed himself in giving such necessary hints and instructions to the young adventurer, as he thought expedient for one entering on the voyage of life; which were received by Wolf with such graceful modesty, and unassuming, yet dignified deportment, as propor- tionably to increase the high opinion which his Grace had always entertained of his promising talents. Some of these conversations were generally affecting, they were even solemn, because it was probable that the kind lips which breathed forth such exhortations might be closed for ever, ere the young wanderer, for whose welfare he was so solicitous, might return again to tell his beloved patron that he had profited by them. The same uncertainty also prevailed with Wolf; young and old are alike destined to meet mortality, happen when it may; and the Lady Agatha, whose heart was the very seat of the most sublime, tender, and delicate sensibility, frequently retired from these affecting con- versations with her father, with eyes not un moistened by a tear ; for the fate of Wolf was by no means in- different to her, and she felt she could not hear of his falling in battle, or otherwise being exterminated from the race of mortals, without sensations which would wring her heart with the most unutterable anguish. The deep interest she felt for him when a poor unfriended ship- wrecked boy, was so interwoven with her own former history, and his sharing with her in all the perils and dangers to which she had been exposed in a solitary and even a treacherous exile in the mouldering ruins THE fisher's daughter. 429 of the Old Abbey, had given him so natural a claim, as she imagined, to her friendship, that no change of time or circumstance could ever erase from her recollection, or banish from her heart. And was not Alfred as much to her as Wolf? Had he not been a poor shipwrecked boy too, with a fate as similar? and was he not as generous and as kind- hearted a youth, and in all respects as praise-worthy? She could not but admit that he was, although the me- rits of Alfred were cast in colours less glowing with animation and spirit. Yet Wolf was not Alfred, nor Alfred Wolf. There was a striking difference between them, and Agatha felt a slight hectic of a moment pass over her lovely cheek, on the impropriety of her making any difference be- tween them, or drawing comparisons which ought to possess no bias over her mind ; neither standing in any other relationship to her, than merely the protegees of her august father. From these reflections she was one evening suddenly aroused by the cries of her little Orlando ; and when she darted into the nursery to enquire the cause, found the child sobbing violently, with his arms stretched towards the window, which was open, and looked in upon the lawn ; and his nurse immediately exclaimed — " Indeed, my lady, I cannot pacify him, was it ever so ; he saw Mr. Wolf go across the lawn, and he has been crying to go to him ever since. I never saw the like of it in all my days.'' " The child will be ill if he is suffered to cry thus," cried Agatha, not attending to her last observation. 430 THE fisher's 0AUGHTE«. " Pray, Rebecca, take him in your arms, and try if you cannot find Wolf; any thing to pacify my darling." The order was obeyed, Rebecca took her charge, telling him she would carry him to Wolfy, at which he was instantly appeased ; and in a few moments Wolf returned with Rebecca, with his little favourite in his arms, who testified the utmost joy on seeing his old playmate. He bovA^ed, on his entrance to the Lady Agatha, who sportively exclaimed — , " Upon my word Wolf, you have become a formida- ble rival in the affections of my son ; he has actually flown from my arms to run into yours." "^ '* But what will Lord Orlando do, your ladyship, when Mr. Wolf goes quite away from us ?" cried Rebecca. " I protest it will be as bad as weaning him. Nobody could pacify him then but Mr. Wolf." " I should be sorry that he suffered on my account," uttered Wolf, clasping the sweet little fellow with in- voluntary fervour to his breast, which was not unre- marked by Agatha ; '*but I am sure I should suffer if I knew it. Then should I wish the ocean that divides us — ^" The voice of Wolf was growing tremulous, he stopped, and casting his eyes down on the ground, be- came profoundly silent, not daring to lift them up again while Lady Agatha remained in the room, which she quitted instantly on some slight pretext, in order to give poor Wolf time to recover his self-possession ; and feeling herself unable to resume an air of compo- sure, much less of apathy at the thoughts of his de- parture. Rebecca and Wolf were on the most friendly THE fisher's daughter. 431 terms ; he was more familiar with her than any domes- tic in the establishment of Lady Montault, because she was the nurse of Lord Orlando ; with her therefore he held frequent conversations on his expedition ta India. " Which I do truly hope may be prosperous and happy," cried Rebecca, '^ and that you may come home one of these good-looking days a general in the army. Lauk a mercy, what changes may happen in all that time, Mr. Wolf! Here's this dear boy will be grown quite a man mayhap, and there's my lady, though she's married now, she may not be married then. Lord Montague has very bad health, and do you know I\Ir. Wolf, whenever I have looked at his pale face, 1 don't know what the dickens possesses me, but he'll never live to have old bones, or my names not Becky. Why then in that case, you know Mr. Wolf, my lady might njarry again. There's no law against that, thank hea- ven, if there was, lauk a mercy what would the world come to. Well then, as I was a saying, my lady might be married again -, she is so young and so beautiful, that every body would be for snapping her up in quick time. Then you know Mr. Wolf, as 1 was a saying, if yoo was a general In the army, and my lady a — a — a — Lauk a mercy Mr. Wolf, what's the matter with you?" Wolf, who had sat in the most abstracted manner, rather enduring than listening to Rebecca's long ora- tion, caught only the last sentences which it conveyed, and he could not be insensible to the meaning they implied, which so completely electrified his whole frame, that he started up with the wildness of a ma- 43$i THE fisher's daughter. Iliac, and pacing the room with hasty strides, involun- tarily exclaimed — " Rebecca, why have you named, why have you mentioned — imprudent woman, are you in your senses Rebecca?'* " Yes, Mr. Wolf, but hang me if I think you are in yours," uttered she. " Lauk a mercy, why what was there to frighten you so much in what I have been say- ing ? There's very few young men would be frighten- ed at any such a thing, I am certain. I onlv said that—" " Silence, I implore you, for heaven's sake,**^ ut- tered Wolf, growing more calm ; " let not such ano ther sentence escape your lips, as you value my peace, the peace of your honoured lord, the happiness of your angelic lady." " Lauk a mercy, Mr. Wolf, pray don't alarm your- self so," cried Rebeca. " Do you think I was going- to be such a simpleton as to mention such a thing be- fore my lord and my lady ? No, no, indeed, Beckey's too wise 5 it would send me away from my place before one could cry Jack Robinson." " And send me to perdition," uttered Wolf, wildly. *^ Send you to a fiddlestick's end," cried Rebecca. *^ Lauk Mr. Wolf, you wants cutting for the simples. Howsomever, I shan't say any thing more of the kind you may depend upon it, seeing that it puts you clean out of your senses so.'' *^ Don't, that's a good creature, and you will greatly oblige me," rejoined Wolf, slipping into Rebecca's hand an irresistible and weighty argument, against opening of mouths when they are paid to be shut j and tHE fisher's daughter. 433 Rebecca/ while Wolf remained at Violet Vale, never resumed a subject which appeared to have so powerful an effect upon his feelings, the meaning of which Re- becca had probably formed her own conjectures on ; for women are certainly quick sighted on these occa- sions, they instantly perceive where the blind deity is shooting his mark from, before the victims themselves are hardly conscious of the innovation. So much for the sagacity of the female part of the creation." But what were the sensations of Wolf, to perceive from the inuendos thrown out by Rebecca, that she bad discovered what he so sedulously wished to hide, and that the very agitation he had betrayed in her pre- sence, had only more strongly confirmed suspicions which, once awakened, might, if not immediately smo- thered, lead to the most dangerous and fatal conse- quences imaginable ! There was no alternative, then, that he could adopt, under existing circumstances, but to bribe her to si- lence on such a subject, by the only means which, it was probable he considered, would impose the neces- sity of obedience to his request, and which certainly had the desired effect. It would have been far better policy, however, to have treated as a mere jest the subject of Rebecca's discourse, and laughed at her plea- santry, as having no meaning in it. But the gravest philosopher could not have done this, if the gravest philosopher, like Wolf, had been so deeply bound in Cupid's fetters. Besides, hope told a flattering tale, which in spite of reason the heart will not disown ; and though it was illusion, yet how transcendantly lovely did the a 19 3 I 434 THE fisher's daughter. fairy colours seem to sucli a glowing imagination, and warm imptissioned fancy as was seated in the breast of Wolf. " For still it whispered promised pleasure, '- And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail." And where is the man who could resist the fascination of such a thought ? The picture, howevery was too dazzling to behold, and it was only in those moments when reason shut her eyes, and passion triumphed, that he had the te- merity to look upon it at all. While these scenes were passing at Violet Vale, very dissimilar ones were going forwards both at the Castle of Montault, and with the new married pair at Win^ stone Park, where the Marchioness for a few days, in- stead of the youthful bride, seemed to reign the abso- lute mistress ; but fond as Lady Lavinia was of the company of beautiful mamma while she held her in leading strings, and could do nothing without her au- thority, she began to be weary of wearing them when she became Lady Winstone, and to feeJ anxious to use her own prerogative as a married woman, and mistress of her own establishment. Three weeks therefore had scarcely elapsed before Lady Lavinia found beautiful mamma a very trouble- some and imperative guest at her elegant mansion ; and she was constantly giving orders contrary to her's, and remonstrating with her about one thing or other, in the same way as when she was under her paternal roof, which was certainly excessively obnoxious to a young bride, and by no means pleasant to the bride- groom THE fisher's daughter. 435 •* Lavinia you shall do/' and " Laviiiia you shall not do 'o," was at length so frequently repeated, that a quar- rel with beautiful mamma and her fair daughter one morning ensued, about some exotics which her lady- ship had given orders to be brought into the drawing- room, but which orders were immediately counter- manded by the Marchioness, which so ofifended Lady Winstone, that she pettishly exclaimed — '* I protest mamma, I think it excessively strange that you are constantly contradicting my orders ; but it don't signify, 1 wont be contradicted, and that's flat. I am not in leading strings now, I am a married wo- man, and I will do just as I please in my own house." " You are a fool,'* uttered the Marchioness, con- temptuously, which epithet instantly produced the retort courteous from the irritated daughter. " If I am a fool, mamma, it is you that have made me so; papa told me that you would. But if I was a fool, do you think that my Lord Winstone would have mar- ried me ?" To which the Marchioness with the utmost noncha- lence replied — " I don't know, men do very silly things when they are blinded by passion." " Then I suppose that was the case when papa mar- ried you," answered her ladyship ; " but I shall tell my lord what you say, and — and — and — '* The proud swelling heart of the fashionable beauty could hold out no longer, and she burst into a flood of tears, while the indignant, haughty, and unfeeling mother, conti- nued looking at her with the most perfect apathy. ** You shall never serve me so again," at length sob- 436 THE fisher's daughter. bed out her ladyship; "and I will have the exotics brought in on purpose to vex you." A fit of the most ironical laughter was the only reply made by the Marchioness, who looking at her diamond repeater, protested it was time to dress for a dinner party at Lady Tannington's. *' To which I am not going, so you need not alarm yourself," cried her ladyship, spitefully. " I know what you want to go there for ; the pidgeons will be flying, and money is scarce, mamma; you shan't have my purse again, I promise you." This was a thunder-stroke to the crest fallen Mar- chioness ; she had gone a step too far, and must re- trieve it, or lose her influence for ever. Altering her sarcastic tone therefore, she exclaimed — " Nonsense Livey, I was only joking with you." "I don't like such jokes," pouted Lady Lavinia. *' Give me a kiss then, and I will never vex you again. Gome, I will order the exotics to be brought hither immediately." The kiss was given, and the exotics placed where her ladyship had desired, and the quarrel adjusted. So much for fashionably bred mo- thers, and fashionably educated daughters of the rising generation. /O^lA/ f ^^' c/> "iTfois, UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS-URBANA 3 0112 051355631 m - fw^E 'i*^'^' ►;^i4^ SV'/ Vjw. ,H»^ k.i . k . 'A • >1'' .rt^:^' ^