o top* HSM **$£$; I - ^ • Ran* JjSffjgy. "WWRWWl l A*£#At£* *um ^'tnte WMIBM :&*&*$ . ^kWV,. ■AV-a^H $^mMu^^ LI E> R^AFLY OF THE U N IVLRSITY Of ILLINOIS 323 R24-12 v.l Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2010 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign http://www.archive.org/details/rebeltale01lond THE REBEL A TALE. AH SIGNOR ! PIETA PER LUI IO VENGO AD I.MPLORAR. La Clemenza dh Tito, At to III. Scena II. WHAT IS THIS WORLD ! THY SCHOOL, OH MISERY ! OUR ONLY LESSON IS TO LEARN TO SUFFER ; AND HE WHO KNOWS NOT THAT, WAS BORN FOR NOTHING. The Revenge. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. T. LONDON: PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, REES, ORME, BROWN, and GREEN, PATERNOSTER-ROW. 1826. v. 1 INTRODUCTION. Authors and editors, from time immemorial, have generally consi- dered it necessary to say a few words by way of introducing themselves to their readers ; and as I, usually, pre- fer treading in the ordinary path (pro- vided it be a good one), I have in this instance, followed their example. In the first place, I beg leave to observe, that I am not the author of VI INTRODUCTION. the following tale : it was found by me among the papers of the late Ho- race Stanhope, (my mother's uncle), who died in February 1799? at the advanced age of eighty-seven : the manuscript of " The Rebel" is dated October the 28th, 1787. My uncle Stanhope, as his readers will discover, was no genius. But he was a very well-meaning kind of man, — although it must be allowed he possessed some very curious and obsolete notions, respecting the du- ties of women, which, not unfrequent- ly, afforded infinite entertainment to his fashionable and well-informed fe- male friends; who were not, of course, INTRODUCTION. Vll to be persuaded, that a quiet obe- dience to the will of their parents or husbands, could possibly form a part of their duty. I have sometimes heard them very sapiently observe, " that to obey, was all vastly well, and very proper for your hum-drum sort of folks, who know nothing of the rights and dignity of their sex ; but that implicit obedience would be quite ridiculous in women possessing their strength of mind, independence of character, and high intellectual attainments I" To such profound reasoning as this, no conclusive argument could be of- fered. Horace Stanhope's super- Vlll INTRODUCTION. anrmated opinions were struck to the earth at a blow — and the fair comba- tants seldom failed in marching off the field victorious. Truth, however, compels me to acknowledge, that I have, occasionally, observed one of " your hum-drum folks' very much disposed to place faith in my uncle's antiquated opinions, notwithstanding the strong and powerful arguments advanced by these enlightened friends, in favor of the Rights and inherent Dignity of their sex. Had Horace Stanhope lived to read the works of a Scott, an Edge worth, &c. &c. he might, perhaps, have im- proved his style ; but as he had not INTRODUCTION. IX this advantage, (which has been en- joyed by many authors of the present day), I hope the good-natured reader will pass over his peculiarities and inaccuracies, with indulgence ; and remember, that the author did not place himself at the public bar; but that he has been brought before that awful tribunal (I trust not injudi- ciously), by the partiality of a friend. The moral, which it has been my uncle's intention to convey, is, I think, sufficiently evident. And should the perusal of the follow- ing tale induce but one frail female to pause, ere she plant the sharpest of all daggers in the heart of her hus- X INTRODUCTION. band, and to turn from the path of Guilt to that of Duty, — then, indeed, my reward would be ample — and I should then be enabled to bear with calmness, the censure I shall un- doubtedly receive, for having brought before the public a performance that has nothing to recommend it, saving its morality. However, of one thing I am convinced, viz. that at the Bar where I have placed " The Rebel/' it will be judged with candour and le- nity. Horace Stanhope will be cen- sured, without doubt, where he has erred, but he will, at the same time, receive his meed of praise, where praise is due. And although censure INTRODUCTION. XI and applause must be alike indif- ferent to one who is gone to the land where all things are forgotten, yet praise bestowed on Horace Stanhope cannot fail of imparting the most heartfelt satisfaction to his relative, The Editor. October 27th, 1825. ERRATA. VOL. I. Page 48, line 13, omit the word " other." 65 . . 17, for " furca," read M forca." 71 . . 2, for " Meldaw," read " Moldaw." 73 .. 1, insert a colon after " Sir William." 93 . . 13, for " enlarged," read " entombed." 116 .. 7, omit the words " rather suddenly." 128 . . 17, insert a " t." 130 .. 17, for " Amo le solo," read " Amo te solo," and for " eggetto," read " oggetto." 157 . . 9, strike out the note of admiration, and insert a dash " — " 242 . . 6, insert the word " off." 249 . . 5, for " Halley," read " Hawley." 251 . . 20, insert a " v." 255 .. 3, for " Benignia," read " Benigma." 282 .. 20, for " Jem," read " Tom." 297 . . 13, for " £5" read " ^15." 304 . . 5, insert the word " over." 316 . . 13, for " Manly," read " Stanley." 340 . . 1, for " ill," read " till." Page 12, line 27 75 139 169 192 251 252 255 262 272 272 273 319 324 333 350 350 VOL. II. 19, for " raised," read fi roused." 10, for " line," read " hue." 21, for " open," read " opened." 9, for " Perthaebians," read " PerhaBbians." 6, for " gain," read " goin." 9, place the apostrophe after the" s" in friends. 7, insert the word " was." 10, a comma, and not a semicolon, to be placed after " barrier." 10, for k ' Tulora," read " Talora," and insert " Metastasio" at the end of the quotation. 20, " My" to be inserted. 4, for '* agni," read " ogni." 5, Ditto Ditto 6, for " shall," read " will." 18, /«w " left hand," read " right hand." 1,/or " turn," read " term." 19, insert a dash " — " 12, /or " Shentilla," read " Theutilla." 12, for " 1689," read " 1639." THE REBEL: 9 Halt. CHAPTER I. The greatest blessing is a pleasant friend. Horace. 11 y a des gens qui n'auroient jamais ete amoureox, s'ils n'avoient jamais entendu parler de l'amour. ROCHEFOUCAU LT. Ln this age of refinement, few people will be found, we imagine, sufficiently hardy to subscribe to all the maxims of the Duke de la Rochefoucault ; but judging from experience, we consider the truth of the axiom we have quoted, as undeniable. The following sketch, copied from nature, VOJL. I. B 2 THE KEBEL. contains, we are of opinion, a case in point. On the 30th of August, in the year 1755, a large travelling-coach (drawn by four fine horses) was seen slowly advancing up a miserably bad road, leading to Weatherall-Lodge, in Dorsetshire, the sporting residence of Sir William Marcus Sherburne. The ponderous vehicle contained Miss Phillippa Clementina Isabella Drusilla Sherburne, the baronet's only sister — the Rev. Kenard Lutterworth,, nephew to my Lord Moldaw — the beautiful Emma Thornton, companion to Miss Phillippa — the worthy baronet, who occupied a won- derfully small space, considering he was six feet high, and, moreover, master of the coach — and last, though not least in her own estimation, the consequential Mistress Penelope Simpkins, Miss Sher- THE REBEL. 3 burne's waiting- woman ,, who had squatted herself down with that air of unaccom- modation so frequently assumed by ladies of her rank. When the party first entered the car- riage, Sir William contrived, by dint of screwing himself tight up in a corner, to leave a gap between him and Mistress Simpkins j but this opening was no sooner perceived by Miss Phillippa, than it was instantly filled with an enormously high, blue pasteboard box, (translated by her orders from its conspicuous station on the roof of the coach) and contained, ac- cording to her account, a variety of the most beautiful head-dresses then in vogue. " Surely, my dear Philly," said the Baronet, " you don't intend me to be wedged in on my right, the whole way to Weatherall, by this confounded blue 4 THE REBEL. tower of yours ? I think it was much better situated on the outside." " I dare say you do, sir," replied this accommodating sister, " but it looks vastly like rain; and I do not choose to have the whole of my new coiffes destroyed, merely to gratify your whims, sir." " Like rain!" repeated Sir William, in a tone of astonishment, " you must have lost the use of your eyes, Philly, — I never saw a finer day in my life; did you, Miss Thornton?" continued the Baronet, ad- dressing Emma, who happened to be seated immediately opposite to him. " The weather is certainly very fine at present/' replied Emma, " but I cannot take upon myself to say it will continue throughout the day." Ci Cannot you indeed, ma'am!" said Miss Philly, in a sneering tone, iC and THE REBEL. 5 yet, you can generally take a good deal upon you — particularly in Sir William'- presence/* Thi< bmc— mil not to be borne, by the zentle Emma, —her thin and finely - curved upper lip instantly curled with an bob, the nature of which it was not possible to mistake, — flashes of loger darted from her large and beautiful black eye-, and she was on the point of replying to M :-> Sherburne's observation, when an imploring" look from Sir William, turned the tide of her feelings, and placed, for the time being, a seal upon her lips. u Come, Philly." said the Baronet, in a coaxing voice, ' ; be accommodating for once, and let Harry take out this lumber- ing box.'* •• I have already informed you of my determination, sir," replied the fair Phi- lippa ; " and for my part. I cannot think 6 THE REBEL. what could have induced you to forward the saddle-horses. In former times, you always preferred riding to Weatherall, — but, I promise you, sir, I have a shrewd guess at your reason for now preferring the carriage.' ' " There's no occasion to give yourself the trouble of guessing on the subject," replied Sir William, composedly, " I told you my real motive, in plain terms, yes- terday." " No, sir, not your real motive," replied Miss Phillippa, darting, at the same time, an angry glance at Emma Thornton. " Harry," said the Baronet, address- ing a servant \*ho had grown grey in the family, and who was preparing to take his place by the side of the coachman, — M Harry, open the door and let down the steps, and do you take my place in the carriage, and I will mount yours on the THE REBEL. 7 box ; for I'll be shot if I can breathe here.' 1 " Sir!" exclaimed the man, in a tone of astonishment. " William!" vociferated Miss Phillippa, laying* at the same time her hand, with no gentle pressure, upon his arm, in order to detain him — " William, are you mad?" " No, not yet," replied the Baronet, smiling-, ct but I cannot answer for my remaining in perfect sanity, if you keep me here without breathing -room. I firmly believe there's lumber enough in the carriage to fill a common stage- wag- gon." Sir William then made an effort to get out ; upon which, Miss Phillippa, seeing how the affair was likely to terminate, remanded the blue tower back to its ori- ginal post ; but not without innumerable taunts, and many frowning looks at the 8 THE REBEL. Baronet, all of which he bore with the calm composure of a martyr. On the third day after their departure from London, our party entered the road leading- through the Weatherall estate to the Lodge. Their journey had been far from agreeable, owing" to Sir William having overthrown the equilibrium of his sister's temper, by the disrespectful man- ner in which he treated her multifarious packages. The road, as we have said before, was extremely bad, and in some places so nar- row, that large projecting branches of the hazel and the black thorn, swept against the carriage as it passed. Weatherall had never been visited by Sir William but as a sporting residence, for a few weeks in the year, and had, in consequence, been greatly neglected ; but if art had been deficient, nature had amply supplied its THE REBEL. 9 place, and had given, in some of her won- derful vagaries, a beauty and wildness to the scene, which it is not in the power of art to bestow. In one part of the road, the carriage inclined, as Miss Phillippa expressed it, " most awfully to the left" — and the weighty machine had no sooner recovered its balance, than the discomposed damsel thus addressed her brother : " I am of opinion, sir, it would only be common humanity in you, to have something done to these roads, — I declare solemnly, that crossing the Alps is a mere trifle, compared to the horrid jolting I have so patiently endured for this last, hour, and upwards." " Time passes in a most extraordinary manner with you," replied her brother, composedly taking out his watch, " it is B 2 10 THE REBEL. now exactly seven minutes and a half since we -entered the gates." Kenard Lutterworth, who generally ob- served a state of the most perfect neu- trality in all family skirmishes, here ob- served a black cloud gathering in the lady's countenance; and fearing a sudden explosion, he, contrary to his usual prac- tice, joined in, and kindly endeavoured to withdraw her attention, from Sir Wil- liam's observation, by requesting her to look out to the right. " Do pray, Miss Sherburne, observe what a height we have ascended — and look at that tremendous chasm which se- parates us from the next hill — 'tis really grand — it positively appears as though the earth had been swept from between, by the mighty rush of waters at the univer- sal deluge." THE REBEL. 11 It frequently happens, that a remark made with the most perfect good nature, produces the very effect which it was in- tended to avert; and thus it fared with poor Kenard Lutterworth's observation — for it only served as a new outlet to Miss Philly's ire — and she wound up a volley of small shot against her brother, in the following words : " Indeed, Mr. Lutterworth, I am quite of your opinion — it is in good truth a most antediluvian looking place ! No one but a perfect simpleton would have pur- chased such a wilderness — and no one, saving a barbarian, would have retained it in his possession four years, without making a proper carriage-road. Swept away by the Deluge indeed ! I only wish the Deluge had swept it away altoge- ther." As the fair Phillippa concluded this 12 THE REBEL. pious wish, the carriage stopped at the door of a very large old-fashioned looking house, to which Sir William had given the name of Weatherall Lodge, — having purchased it and the adjoining estate with a legacy bequeathed him by his aunt, Lady Elizabeth Weatherall. A numerous train of domestics instantly made their appearance, in order to give the necessary assistance. All was bustle and confusion ; such whisking about with bundles here and trunks there — and such multifarious orders were given by the fair Phillippa, respecting the degree of care to be taken of this box, and that parcel, as quite as- tonished Emma Thornton, who had not been accustomed to travel with a lady whose whole soul was wrapt in the con- tents of a band-box. When Miss Philly had issued her various orders, she retired to her own room to arrange her dress (a THE REBEL. 13 matter, as we have always observed, of in- finite importance to the ladies;) Emma Thornton followed her example, whilst Sir William amused himself by shewing the different apartments to his friend. After passing* through several very hand- some rooms, they came to one which ap- peared to have been fitted up entirely for a lady's accommodation. It contained a very large collection of well-chosen books — the walls, where the book-shelves did not interfere, were graced by a number of excellent paintings. On one side of this apartment there stood a handsome harpsichord, and a beautiful harp — and on the opposite side was a splendid Indian cabinet, containing numerous eastern cu- riosities ; a fine assortment of rare shells, fossils, insects, &c. and the top of it was ornamented with superb specimens of china vases, filled with the dried leaves of aro- 14 THE REBEL. matic flowers and plants. There were two arched recesses, which were occupied by well-executed statues of Shakspeare and Milton. The chimney-piece was crowded by a number of those little ex- pensive gew gaws, the collecting of which, usually affords so much pleasure to my countrywomen : though I have re- marked, when these trifles have occupied their station for a few days, that the fair possessor's love has gradually cooled ; and the costly nothings have been left to the mercy of a clumsy left-handed house- maid, who, no doubt, frequently wished her mistress in the dominions of Satan, for having needlessly multiplied her labours. But this is a digression — and an impertinent one too — for it casts a saucy reflection upon the last best work of the Great Giver of all things. Kenard Lutterworth surveyed the THE REBEL. 15 apartment with attention — then turning to Sir William, he observed : "lam as- tonished, Sherburne, you don't marry — possessing, as you do, every requisite to render the married state agreeable : a large fortune, a cultivated mind, a hand- some person, and an equanimity of tem- per, admirably calculated to encounter all the petty attacks of female warfare ; and, between ourselves, I think you at present possess all the bitters of matrimony with- out its sweets." " There you are quite wrong, my dear fellow," replied the Baronet, " you allude, no doubt, to my sister's temper. Now little as I know of the married state, 1 am con- vinced its bitterest ingredient consists in the extreme difficulty of shaking off those persons, who either from vicious habits or bad tempers, have rendered themselves disagreeable, not to say hateful. This 16 THE REBEL. apartment, which appears to have awaken- ed a train of matrimonial ideas in your Reverence's mind, was fitted up under my directions, solely for my sister's use ; but she detests the place altogether — and the bare mention of our coming here, always gives an additional coat of acidity to her temper, which at the best of times is far from sweet, but I bear with it pa- tiently — the more so, perhaps, from the consciousness that I am not compelled to do so." The friends spent a considerable time in discoursing on matrimony, in the course of which, Sir William related many cases of unhappy marriages — but he did not appear to have registered in his mind, one instance of a contrary description, — and just as Kenard Lutterworth had com- menced a warm panegyric on the holy state of wedlock, he was suddenly inter- THE REBEL. 17 rupted by the entrance of Miss Phillippa, whose elegant and entire change of dress, together with her darkened brow, re- minded the gentlemen, that some altera- tion in their habiliments would be neces- sary, if they wished to keep on good terms with this over parti cular, and over ceremonious damsel. " I presume, sir, you did not hear the half-hour bell, which rang twenty minutes ago," observed the fair Phillippa, address- ing her brother, but not in " honey'd ac- cents." " Yes, my dear," replied the Baronet, " we heard the bell, — but ten minutes will suffice for the change we intend making in our dress to-day. Kenard, as you may observe, is still an invalid ; and as for your humble servant, I feel an oppression, something resembling, I must confess, a 18 THE REBEL. fit of laziness ; but I will ring for Oliver, and desire him to shew Kenard the room intended for his use ; and in ten minutes we will join you in the drawing-room." As the last chime of the dinner-bell was dying away, Sir William and Ke- nard Lutterworth entered the drawing- room, where they found the fair Phillippa pacing up and down, whilst her counte- nance exhibited strong marks of displea- sure. u How now!" said the Baronet, " you appear a little chafed, my dear Philly ; no accident has happened, I hope, to any of your valuable and numerous packages ? I trust the blue tower has arrived in safety, and has not suffered from travelling as an outside passenger ? eh, Philly ! is all safe in that quarter ?" " This is no time for jesting, sir," re- THE REBEL. 19 plied Miss Phillippa, in a tone of affected sorrow ; " your high spirited and beauti- ful protegee is missing. 7 • " Missing/' repeated Sir William, in a voice of astonishment. " Yes, sir, missing, — is the word not sufficiently explanatory ? if so, I must proceed to inform you, that Miss Thorn- ton is not to be found ; she has gone off to a certainty. I only hope she has gone unaccompanied, that is to say, by a gen- tleman" " I will not allow you, madam, nor any person on earth, to cast the least shade of slander on the character of Miss Thorn- ton," replied Sir William, in a composed voice, that little accorded with the anger expressed in his eyes, or the mantling co- lour which instantly rushed to his cheeks. " Hey day !" exclaimed Miss Philly, I wonder what part you will perform 20 THE REBEL. next, sir? I certainly never expected to see Sir William Marcus Sherburne stand forth as the champion of a woman, were she even a king's daughter ! but that he should enter the lists as the doughty defender of a forlorn, friendless creature, whose pride is exceeded by nothing but her poverty, is, I confess, most unutter- ably astonishing !" Sir William looked upon his sister for an instant, with an expression strongly indicative of anger and contempt, but deigned no other reply, — and crossing the apartment, he composedly rang the bell. " Oliver/' said the Baronet, address- ing the butler who answered the sum- mons, " order Harry immediately to ring the great bell as loud as he can for five minutes, and send Arthur to me" " I am certain," said Sir William, as THE REBEL. 21 the butler closed the door, " I am quite certain Miss Thornton has wandered into the chase ; and deceived, perhaps, by its winding paths, has been led further from the house than she expected. Are you not of my opinion, Kenard ?" " Decidedly so, — you intend sending Arthur into the chase, in search of her, I presume ?" " Yes," replied the Baronet ; " and as soon as I have given my orders to Arthur, we will go to dinner, — I have no doubt Miss Thornton will join us in a few mi- nutes." Miss Philly smiled sneeringly, and re- plied to her brother's observation, u that she was firmly convinced Miss Thorn- ton had run off; and she ventured a hope, that all the (/rooms would be forthcoming when their duty should require it." " By the Lord Harry!" exclaimed Sir 22 THE REBEL. William, " bat thou hast an evil tongue; were mine only half as slanderous, I would tear it from my mouth by the roots!" At this moment the drawing-room door opened, and Arthur Aberford, Sir William's gentleman, as he was usually called, requested to know his master's orders; — but ere the Baronet had time to deliver them, the light form of Emma Thornton glided past Arthur, and cross- ing* the room towards the sofa on which the fair Philly was reclining, she made a proper apology ; and at the same time expressed her sorrow, for having detained them a few minutes beyond their dinner- hour ; assigning as the cause of her non- appearance, the very reason which the Baronet had previously stated. " You must be particularly partial to wild uncultivated walks, ma'am/' replied THE REBEL. 23 Miss Philly : " it would have been wiser, methinks, to have waited until Sir Wil- liam could have accompanied you, or some other person acquainted with the various windings of the chase; and judging from observation, I should have imagined Sir William's attendance would not have been altogether disagreeable." " Madam!" said Emma Thornton, her fine eyes filling with tears as she spoke, you are most illiberal in your remarks. The present taunt is not the Jirst, by many, I have borne from you, — and," she added, (whilst her beautiful lips quivered with emotion,) " but it shall be the last, — the rising of to-morrow's sun shall see me on my road to Selby." The Baronet looked extremely distress- ed, and applied his hand instantly to the bell. On the servant's appearing, he said, " tell James to go immediately to 24 THE REBEL. the King's Arms, and order a post-chaise and four to be here to-morrow morning punctually at six o'clock, — and order Arthur to hold himself in readiness, at that hour, for a journey to Selby Park." Miss Philly was apparently struck dumb with astonishment. She started from the sofa at the commencement of the Baro- net's address to Oliver, and looked from her brother to Emma, and from Emma to her brother j like a person awaking from a dream, — but, (contrary to her practice,) maintained the most perfect silence. " Come, Emma, my dear," said Sir William, in a good humoured, soothing voice, " lay aside that April face — doff your little hat, and let me conduct you to the dining-room." Emma Thornton immediately took off her riding hat, and (pushing back the clustering, and beautiful raven locks which THE REBEL. 25 hung* in profusion over one of the loveliest faces in the world) placed her arm within Sir William's. " Kenard, my good fellow," said the Baronet, " why don't you do your duty, and lead my sister to the dining-room ? Or do you mean," he added, in an under tone, " to leave her standing there, looking as immoveable as Lot's wife ?" Kenard Lutterworth instantly quitted a large, high, gloomy looking window, from which he appeared to have been viewing the beauty of the scenery that lay before him, and offering his arm to Miss Philly, conducted her from the drawing-room. Motion had the effect of instantly restoring Miss Phillippa to the full use of her unruly member ; and darting a scornful glance at her brother, she inquired if he intended to accompany his ci dear Emma" to Selby Park ? VOL. 1. t C 26 THE REBEL. " That is a question, Ma'am," replied Sir William, " which I will do myself the honour of answering* in a more convenient place, and at a more convenient season. At present, I will thank you either to enter the room or allow us to pass you. — The hall is surely not a proper place for such an important interrogatory," added the Baronet with a smile. The equilibrium of Miss Philly's temper had been completely destroyed; conse- quently, there was nothing- at table worth eating* — and the servants had no sooner placed the desert, and quitted the apart- ment, than the fair lady commenced her attack — and addressing- Kenard Lutter- worth, she said : " I oug-ht really to apologize for the very wretched repast we have given you ; but there is no possibility of getting any thing eatable in such a wilderness as this !" THE REBEL. 27 " I suspect the fault was principally in your want of appetite, my dear," replied Sir William, interrupting' Kenard Lutter- worth's encomiums on the excellency of the dinner. " I quite agree with Kenard in thinking* every thing was excellent in its kind — and at the same time very well dressed." Cl Your opinion must be placed to the account of your ignorance, sir," replied the indignant Phillippa ; f ' /, who under- stand these things, can tell you, that the soup was mere pepper and water — the meat was not fit for a Hottentot — the fowls were tough — the sweets were sour — and as for this wine," added the fair nymph, sipping at the same time a glass of fine old Madeira, " I think it has a very disagreeable acidity." " I imagine, my dear," replied her 28 THE REBEL. brother, " that the c disagreeable acidity' does not lay solely in the wine." This hint was sufficient for a lady of Miss Phillippa's inflammable temper : she rose immediately, and casting" on Sir William one of those scornful glances which ladies know so well how to bestow (though, it must be confessed, they do not always bestow them in the right place), she quitted the apartment, leav- ing the gentlemen to what they rarely enjoyed in her presence, viz. peace and quietness. Emma Thornton also re- tired — and the door was no sooner closed than the Baronet said : " And you really advise me to marry ? and be tied for life to a she-dragon like my sister ! I thank you, reverend sir, for your advice ; but so long as my books, horses, dogs, and gun, afford me enter- THE REBEJL. 29 tainment, so long, my good fellow, will I remain a bachelor." " Ay," said Kenard, sorrowfully, " all I have, at different times, heard you say on the subject of matrimony, may be very plausible in theory ; but believe me, Sherburne, the day will come, when the amusements you have enumerated will cease to afford you pleasure. It is not in the days of our youth — it is not in the hour of health that woman is most valued — no : it is in the chamber of sick- ness — it is in the hour of sorrow — it is in cheering the down-hill of life, that she is seen to the greatest advantage; — then, indeed, she shines as a superior being, sent, as it were, to smooth the rugged path of man's existence." " That may be true," replied Sir Wil- liam, " but yet, I am disposed to think the ' superior beings you mention, are 30 THE REBEL. very thinly sown ; at all events, I have never had the good fortune to come in contact with any of them — excepting*, of course, Emma Thornton and Lady Mary Seaham." " You are acquainted, nevertheless, with many very amiable women, to my knowledge," replied Kenard. " Oh yes ! very amiable in all outward appearances, " said the Baronet, " but the little deceivers possess the art of cast- ing* a veil so completely ov^r their de fects, as to render it almost impossible for a poor fellow to discover their various imperfections, until it is, alas ! too late — and he is buckled to them for ever." " I would not entertain such an un- worthy opinion of the sex ; no, — not for the universe V exclaimed Kenard. iC Very likely not," said the Baronet, " and heaven grant you may never have THE REBEL. 31 occasion. But I believe the great differ- ence in our opinion on this subject, is oc- casioned by your having been in love, and I do not imagine we shall ever agree on this point, until I have been in the same difficulty; and I need hardly tell you, who know me so thoroughly, that I am not at all the sort of fellow to be brought into such a miserable dilemma. Oh, no, — I am not in the least calculated to sit, by moon-light, on the margin of a stream, writing a sonnet on " The shadow of my lady's shoe-tie !" No, no, I am much too active a fellow to commit such a folly ; you know it has been said, " At busy hearts in vain love's arrows fly, " Dim, scorn'd, and impotent his torches lie/ Consequently, so long as I avoid idleness, 32 THE REBEL. there can be little danger of my falling into the labyrinths of love." " Your reasoning is immensely pro- found," replied Kenard, dryly. " I vote for our quitting the subject," said Sir William, " for, upon recollection, it cannot be an agreeable one to your re- verence, and I'll be shot if it afford me any amusement." " How far is my uncle Moldaw's from here?" inquired Kenard, rather abruptly. " Not above five miles," replied Sir William : " we settled, you may remem- ber, this morning, we would pay him a visit to-morrow, — his Lordship being con- fined by the gout at this season of the year, is doubly unfortunate, — he is an* excellent shot." " Don't you think my cousin Laura is very beautiful?" inquired Kenard. " I do not consider her half so hand- THE REBEL. 33 some as Emma Thornton, or your cousin Lady Mary Seaham," replied Sir Wil- liam. "Ah, that is because you are not so well acquainted with Laura, and you have, perhaps, never remarked her with attention : — indeed your shamefully care- less, inattentive manners towards women of your own rank, have become quite proverbial. It was only the other day I heard Lord Lewiston observe, that some fellow or other, of his acquaintance, was as great a bear towards the ladies as Sir William Sherburne.' ' " Well, be it so," replied the Baronet, " I would rather be considered as a bear, than conduct myself after Lewiston's fashion." " But there is such a thing as a happy medium," observed Kenard. " Undoubtedly there is," replied the c 2 34 THE REBEL. Baronet, " and you have the good sense to pursue it — but I make no pretensions to your reverence's wisdom." " If you will not allow Laura Seville to be beautiful/' continued Kenard, with- out appearing' to have heard the Baro- net's last observation, " you must surely allow she is a most bewitching little crea- ture. " She may be so," replied Sir William, in a tone of extreme indifference ; " but I have not discovered it ; indeed, to be candid with you, 1 have never given her a second thought." "Would to heaven, then," said Kenard, with emotion, " would to heaven she had served you the same !" — then suddenly recollecting himself, and observing Sir William's astonishment, he added, pee- vishly, " what a prating hasty blockhead I am ! I see I have gone too far, — I have THE REBEL. 35 said too much, — but, foolishly judging from a few trifling circumstances, I was apprehensive my cousin regarded you with some slight degree of tenderness, — upon second consideration, however, I am disposed to think I may have been mis- taken." " Pray, may I presume to inquire what these ' trifling circumstances' were, which occasioned your Worship such great ap- prehensions ?" " Oh, they were of such a very trivial nature," replied Kenard, "that really the particulars have nearly escaped my recol- lection. Your sister," he added,, " has been waiting for us some time, no doubt; shall we inquire if she is disposed for a walk ? It is a most beautiful evening.' ' With this poor evasion of a question, he had no inclination to answer. Kenard proceeded to the drawing-room, followed, 36 THE REBEL. in his retreat, by the pondering Baronet, who was endeavouring to recal the fea- tures of Laura Seville to his mind ; but the impression she had produced was so slight, that he could not have answered, had his whole stud been at stake, whether her eyes were black, blue, or hazel. When they entered the drawing- room, they found MissPhilly in excellent temper and high spirits. An epistle had arrived from Lord Lewiston, containing the pleasing intelligence, that his Lord- ship intended being with them on the following day by two o'clock ; and in consequence of this information, the fair Phillippa had been thrown into a most wonderful fit of good humour, and ex- pressed her willingness to walk, or enter into any amusement her brother might think proper to propose. Sir William accordingly advised her to take a walk in THE REBEL. 37 the chase with Kenard Lutterworth, whilst he remained at home in order to write a letter to Lady Mary Seaham, who resided (with her brother, Lord Carlington,) at Selbv Park, and who was the particular friend of Emma Thornton. When Miss Philly returned from her ramble, she had the mortification to find her brother and Emma seated upon the sofa, in close and earnest conference, — it appeared, however, to be only respecting - her journey, &c. for Miss Phillippa's entrance did not interrupt their conver- sation. " I have prevailed on Miss Thornton," said the Baronet, addressing- his sister. " to defer her journey till ten o'clock to- morrow morning - , — and I have sent James to put off the carriage until that hour.'* " I do not doubt it, sir," replied Miss Philly; "I am well aware your eloquence 38 THE REBEL. has unbounded influence over Miss Thorn- ton. Could you not prevail upon her," continued the fair Philly, in a sneering" tone, " to put off her journey altogether? And who knows but in time she might condescend to become my Lady Sher- burne?" To Miss Philly \s astonishment, this spirited sally was honoured by a hearty laugh from Sir William, and a good-na- tured smile from Emma Thornton, — but there was no blush to be seen on the face of either party, at least we were not able to discover any. such proof of their guilt and confusion ; although it was, we un- derstand, distinctly perceptible to the Argus optics of the amiable Phillippa. But she is by no means the first person, (as our readers must be aware,) who has possessed the wonderful ability of discover- ing symptoms that never existed. THE REBEL. 39 The fair Philly would have been exas- perated beyond all bearing*, by such con- duct as we have described, had not the balsamic contents of Lord Lewiston's dear epistle been still operating", which enabled her, (though with some difficul- ty,) to maintain the balance of temper. She immediately seated herself before her desk, and wrote the following- letter to her beloved friend and former compa- nion, Miss Tisiphone Melanira Sabina Bathsheba Wriggle ton, who resided in a neat little cottage about ten miles from Wea the rail. And I particularly request that truly prudent, respectable, and nu- merous class of readers, who usually go through works of this description, (as they do their devotions,) with a hop, skip, and a jump, to favor me by reading Miss Phil- lippa's luminous epistle, — and I have no 40 THE REBEL. doubt the beauty of her style will amply reward them for their labour. " Weatherall, August ZOth, 1755. " Dear Wriggy, " We arrived at this detested place only a few hours ago, and your kind and affectionate heart will bleed when you hear of the sufferings I have been made to undergo during that short pe- riod. But it is impossible, utterly impos- sible, to describe on cold, inanimate paper, all I have endured since, (in an evil day,) I parted from yon, my dear Wriggy. — Oh ! then, haste to the throbbing bosom of your ill-treated Phillippa, and let her pour into your friendly ears the miseries and indignities which are bending her down to the grave ! Do not refuse to come to me, darling Wriggy ! You know 1 would THE REBEL. 41 never have parted from you, love, had it not been William's express commands that I should do so, — and you are well aware, love, of his tyrannical disposition. Your feeling heart, Wriggy, will rejoice to hear I have at length succeeded in driving my brother's protegee from the house; she departs to-morrow morning by ten o'clock, for Lord Carlington's, and I have every reason to believe William intends to ac- company her, part of the way, at least. I should like to know the history of this high-spirited damsel, I must confess : there is a mystery about her birth, that I would give the universe to have cleared up, — and what provokes me beyond all bear- ing, William, who is acquainted with her whole history, will not satisfy my curio- sity. He never tells me any thing more, than that her family is as good as mine, 42 THE REBEL. which, between ourselves, my dear Wriggy, I do not believe, — but William has his motives for fabricating" such a falsehood. I am firmly persuaded he in- tends to make her Lady Sherburne,, — you know how shamefully inattentive he is to our sex in general, but, my darling Wriggy, you can form no idea of his at- tentions to this minx. You will scarcely credit it when I tell you, he had the auda- city this afternoon, to call her his '.* dear Emma" even in my presence ! Oh, Wriggy ! Wriggy ! what will this world come to ? " August 3\st, 11 o'clock, a. m. — She is gone, Wriggy; thank heaven, she is gone ! William handed her into the chaise, if you will believe me, with as much kindness and respect as if she had been a Duchess ! But, to my great joy, THE REBEL. 43 he has not accompanied her. If you have been able to discover any particulars re- specting' this hateful young woman, do not, my Wriggy, conceal them from me ; for although, as ngood Christian, I should be grieved to hear any thing to her pre- judice, yet you must be aware, love, it would be better that I should be acquaint- ed with any circumstance you may hare heard against her, in order to put my bro- ther, (poor infatuated young man) on his guard. Write me a few lines by the bearer, love. I will send the carriage for you on the third of next month, and I hope you will remain with me six weeks, at the end of which it is William's in- tention to remove from this desert to Wentbridge Park. 1 hope to make great progress in good works under your tui- tion, dear Wriggy, for you have expe- rienced the full blaze of the new light, 44 THE REBEL. which is at present only dawning- upon your faithful and attached " P.C.I. D.Sherburne. " P. S. — I received an express from Lord Lewiston yesterday evening*, — he will be with us by two o'clock, and in- tends to cheer our solitude by remaining with us a few days. But I wish for no- thing- so much as your presence, my Wrig-g-y, — you will teach me true strength of mind, — and then, ' forgetting those things which are before, I shall press for- ward to those that are behind!' I hope the quotation is correct, love. " P. C. I. D. S." After SirWiiliam had seen MissThornton depart, he proceeded to the library, where he had a conference with Kenard Lutter- worth respecting the propriety of allow- THE REBEL. 45 ing Miss Wriggleton to visit Weatherall. After mature deliberation Kenard gave his vote in favour of the fair Wriggy. " Let her come by all means," he said, " and if you find her at her old tricks, it will then be time enough to exercise your authority, and send her off', — and as your sister says she has only invited her to spend two or three days, it appears a need- less exertion of power, on your part, to interfere at present." " There may be some truth in your observation," replied Sir William, " but, by the Lord Harry, if you knew her as well as 1 do, you would never wish to come within cannon-shot of her again ; however, I will follow your advice, and you shall have the honor of being intro- duced to Miss Tisiphone Melanira Sabina Bathsheba Wriggleton." " What could be their inducement," 46 THE REBEL. said Kenard, laughing*, " to give her such a lot of ridiculous names ?" " How the d — 1 should I know?" said the Baronet ; " you may put that ques- tion to her godfathers and godmothers, if you can find them, — bat I doubt if they be in the land of the living, for Mis- tress Bathsheba is considerably on the wrong side of fifty." By a little after eleven, the friends were mounted, and on their road to Beltingham, the sporting residence of Lord Moldaw; but ere we announce their arrival, we will give a short descrip- tion of their respective persons. ■ — Sir William, as we have said before, was full six feet high, and firmly, though ele- gantly formed — his features were of that cast, which, whether taken singly or collectively , must have been pronounced not only handsome, but pleasing also. THE REBEL. 47 A lofty brow— a Roman nose of the finest form, a dark complexion, and large bine eyes shaded by long black eye-lashes, combined to render his countenance at once noble and prepossessing ; his teeth, also, were uncommonly beautiful, and his finely-formed mouth seemed moulded to shew them to the greatest ad- vantage. He always dressed like a man of fashion, keeping, at the same time, at a distance from every thing pertaining to foppery : — the only instance in which he departed from the established modes of the day, was in wearing his own hair, which he allowed to wave in luxuriance over his noble forehead. His manners were particularly easy — and he was uni- versally allowed to be one of the finest horsemen of his time. Truth, however, compels us to state, that notwithstanding Sir William's numerous perfections, both 48 TEE REBEL. of mind and body, he was still far from perfect. He possessed, we are sorry to say, many failings — one of which con- sisted in a careless inattention towards his fair countrywomen, bordering* some- times on the very confines of ill-breeding : and yet we have often observed, when he has been listening to the melancholy story of some poor distressed female, an appear- ance of kindness, gentleness, and con- sideration, which little accorded with his provokingly negligent manners towards such of the other sex as were his supe- riors or equals in rank. This, it must be allowed, was a fault, and a great one too — but it was fortunately not incurable. At the time our little history commences, Sir Willi am had nearly attained his twenty- ninth year*. * These formal descriptions are now quite obsolete. — En. THE REBEL. 49 Kenard Lutterworth, in point of height, was at least two inches above Sir William ; his form, though gigantic*, was perfect ; and there was a charm, in the easy ele- gance of his manner, which prepossessed every person in his favor. His features, when taken separately, were not decidedly handsome ; yet when combined, there was such an expression of sense and goodness in his countenance, (which most frequently was touched by a slight shade of sorrow) that to see him, was to feel an interest in him : he was Sir William's senior by one year. We will now proceed with our narra- tive of facts ; after having, to the best of our ability, endeavoured to satisfy our fair readers concerning the personal appear- * This remark is in direct opposition to Burke's opinion see Burke on " The Sublime and Beautiful." — Ed. VOL. I. D 50 THE REBEL. auce of the two men, (we dare not call them heroes) in whose fate it is our earnest desire to excite an interest ; and should some sentimental nymph condemn us for not having entered more at large in our de- scription of Kenard Lutterworth's person, we must plead our total inability to do justice to his most prepossessing exterior. When the friends arrived at Belting- ham, they found Lord Moldaw in the drawing-room, reposing his poor gouty foot on a pile of cushions, which his lovely daughter was stooping to arrange as the door opened. Miss Seville was saluted with grave cousinly affection by Kenard Lutterworth ; but the embrace, notwith- standing the gravity with which it was bestowed, produced such an instantaneous profusion of bloom, and such sweet con- fusion in the countenance of the fair Laura, that for the first time in his life THE REBEL. 51 the Baronet experienced a sensation which it might perhaps have puzzled him to de- fine. But whatever were the various in- gredients of which it was composed, dis- appointed vanity was undoubtedly among the number. Nor ought this to excite our surprise, when we remember, that on the preceding evening Sir William had been given to understand, by the thought- less remark of his friend, that Miss Seville regarded him with affection ;— and now, he beheld her covered with blushes and confusion, at the unexpected sight of the very man, from whom he had received the flattering information. And after he had gratified his vanity for some hours, with an idea of the tender reception he was likely to receive from the fair Laura, we ought not to be astonished, if he ex- perienced a feeling of disappointment on finding himself scarcely observed by her. UNIVERSITY OF 52 THE REBEL. He fixed, however, his scrutinizing' eyes on hers, as if endeavouring to discover, by her countenance, what was passing in her mind — but by no expression he saw there could he flatter himself, even for a mo- ment, that she regarded him otherwise than as a common acquaintance. Sir William contrived to place him- self so as to have a complete view of Laura, whilst he appeared to be giving his undivided attention to the long and interesting account Lord Moldaw was detailing of his fifteen days confinement, — and when his lordship had nearly worn his subject (gouty as it was| to a perfect skeleton, he abruptly changed it, by say- ing to the Baronet ; " Do you intend to pass the whole of the autumn at Weatherall ?" — Laura listened for the answer, without perhaps being aware, that in order to hear it dis- THE REBEL. 53 tinctly, she had stopped short in a de- scription she was giving Kenard Lutter- worth, of one of her Beltingham neigh- bours. This was not lost on the observing Sir William, and he framed his reply ac- cordingly. " No/' he said, " I never had the least intention of remaining more than a few weeks, — I hope to be at Wentbridge by the middle of August, and I shall endea- vour to persuade Kenard to accompany me." " By heaven," added the Baronet to himself, " it is as I suspected — her blushes have twice betrayed her !" After some time had elapsed, Sir Wil- liam said to Kenard, " I am sorry to in- terrupt your agreeable converse with Miss ~" Seville, but it is time to think of return- ing to Weatherall ; for I wish to be there before Lord Lewiston arrives." 54 THE REBEL. "lam ready to return whenever you please/' replied Kenard. " The devil you are, sir!" exclaimed Lord Moldaw, " what, sir, have you no natural affection about you ? Would you leave the house without seeing either my sister or your cousin Harriet ? eh ?" " I am very sorry," replied Kenard, " to leave Beltingham without seeing them, but I understand they are not at home — and Laura says their return is very uncertain — and" — " Nonsense, sir, nonsense" — exclaimed his lordship, interrupting Kenard, " sorry indeed ! I tell you, sir, I wouldn't give a grain of powder for your sorrow — you are an unnatural puppy, sir." — " Ah by the bye," added his lordship, in an altered tone, " that reminds me of a material point, — Sherburne, my good fellow, don't forget you promised me one of Sappho's THE REBEL. 55 whelps ; by Diana, she's the handsomest bitch in the three kingdoms !— You'll be as good as your word, Sherburne, eh ?" « Oh certainly/' replied Sir William," 11 I will send you a puppy to-morrow morning, without fail." " Thank you, my good fellow, thank you," said his lordship, with great glee — " and pray send me one as like the mo- ther as possible. — She is certainly the most beautiful bitch I ever— oh, curse the gout!" exclaimed his lordship in a parenthesis, " what a devil of a twinge it gave me then — I say she is the finest bitch I ever saw in my life — and you'll be careful to send me one as like the mo- ther — oh, d — 'n the gout ! as like Sappho, I say, Sherburne, as possible — you'll not forget that point, eh ?" Sir William gave a ready assent to his Lordship's request, and took his leave, 56 THE REBEL. bowing* low and formally to Miss Seville, as he left the apartment. The friends had scarcely proceeded a dozen yards from the house, before Sir William observed, " I will thank you, Kenard, to tell me the motives which induced you to fabricate such an infernal falsehood, yesterday, respecting your cousin P v " And I will thank you to tell me," replied Kenard, the blood rushing to his face as he spoke, " I will thank you to tell me your motive for accusing me of so mean a vice ? Let me tell you, Sir William, I abhor a falsehood, as I do the devil. 7 ' " Don't put yourself in a passion, I beseech you," observed the Baronet, " and I will endeavour to explain myself to your satisfaction. You cannot, I ima- gine, have forgotten what escaped from you, yesterday, relative to Miss Seville : THE REBEL. 57 now let me request you to compare her conduct to-day, with the information you gave me last night. So far, indeed, am I from thinking she regards me with af- fection, that, on the contrary, I am firmly persuaded she cares not a rush for me : that she is in love, is, in my opinion, be- yond a doubt ; and were you to ask me, " with whom?" I would reply, in the words of the prophet, ' Thou art the man !' I hope I have now explained myself to your Reverence's satisfaction." " No, not quite/' replied Kenard, " not perfectly. I wish to know your reasons for suspecting Laura of being at- tached to wie." " You are most confoundedly dull of comprehension to-day," said the Baronet : 8 could you possibly observe your cousin's D 2 58 THE REBEL. confusion, without being, at the same time, aware you occasioned it? Or were you so superlatively stupid as to overlook the most beautiful blushes I ever beheld ? I gave you credit for possessing" a little more penetration, sir. And, moreover, you must surely have had your eyes closed, not to remark her change of countenance when I talked of persuading you to ac- company me to Yorkshire. Besides, my good fellow, I should have imagined the very different manner in which she treated us, might have opened the eyes of your understanding, had you not been prede- termined on keeping them shut : for in- stance, to you she was all kindness, ten- derness, and good humour, whilst to me, she was shy, cold, and indifferent." " My dear Sherburne," said Kenard, smiling, " what a blind puppy you must be ! but I cannot see you running off on THE REBEL. 59 a wrong scent, without giving you a friendly hint ; and I must begin by af- firming the want of penetration rests with you, not me. But before I proceed, tell me candidly your present opinion of Laura ; I mean with respect to her beau- ty, of course, — for her amiable disposi- tion, sweet temper, and great accomplish- ments, are points on which there can be no dispute." " Then to be candid with you," re- plied Sir William, " I think she is more beautiful than either Emma Thornton or Lady Mary Seaham. And I may at the same time as well confess, that your in- formation of yesterday was extremely flattering to my vanity, and prepared me, no doubt, to look upon your cousin with very partial eyes ; and when I be- held her, for the first time, in this point of view, I had, I assure you, some difficulty 60 THE REBEL. in persuading" myself, that the lovely girl then standing before me, could possibly be the same I had seen, with indifference, a thousand times before ! In short, she appeared quite a different being, and I would have given — what would I not have given? — to have occasioned those sweet, those lovely blushes, which bloomed so beautifully at your approach/ 1 " Well, I protest, Sherburne,, I never expected to hear such a speech from you ; but wonders never cease ! I dare say we shall shortly hear of your having com- posed a sonnet on ' The shadow of my lady's' " I beg pardon for interrupting you/" observed the Baronet, with some quick- ness, whilst his countenance assumed an odd, mixed kind of expression, as if he were in doubt whether to smile or be THE REBEL. 61 angry at the ill-timed repetition of his own quotation. His natural good tem- per, however, gained the victory, and he proceeded : " I ask pardon for inter- rupting your elegant quotation, Master Kenard, but you promised to disperse some clouds, which, according to your account, are hanging over my under- standing ; perform your promise, there- fore, without delay," and, he added, with a smile, " and never again quote Hudibras, when speaking of love" " Very well, I will obey you," replied Kenard, " and have a due regard to your newly acquired sensibility for the future ; and now give me your attention." Sir William was, at that moment, gazing with unfeigned delight on a covey of par- tridges,, that had been disturbed by a boy in a field adjoining the road; he turned, however, immediately, and replied : 62 THE REBEL. " Pray, begin ; I am all attention : but that was as fine a covey as I ever remem- ber to have seen ; I would have given twenty pounds to have had my gun." Kenard smiled, and replied : " I hope you will be convinced, in a few minutes, that you have most egregiously mistaken the object of my cousin's affection : that she has a great regard for me, is, I flatter myself, very probable, but it is of the same nature as the love of a sister for a brother ; and rest assured, my dear fellow, those sweet blushes you admired so much, bloomed at your approach, not mine. I will now be perfectly sincere, and confess I have for some time suspected she did not regard you with indifference; and, strange as it may appear, I have in some degree been the cause. You are aware I have spent the last six months with my uncle and his family, and that I only THE REBEL. 63 quitted them three weeks ago, on their leaving London for Beltingham. During my residence in town, my cousins and I were unavoidably thrown much together ; and Sir William Marcus Sherburne w&s not unfrequently the subject of our con- versation. I related many of your good, and some ot your gallant actions: among the former, the story of poor Mary Ste- phenson was particularly admired; and among the latter, your noble conduct at Gladsmuir was considered the very per- fection of heroism.'' " My conduct at Gladsmuir !" re- peated Sir William, in a voice of dismay, " is it possible you could be so thought- less as to betray me?" " Not I, believe me," replied Kenard, " I give you my word of honour I found both my uncle and cousins fully ac- 64 THE REBEL. quainted with the part you performed in — 45, and I merely related a few parti- culars, which, in my opinion, reflect the highest credit on your heart." " And so the old boy knows I was once within an ace of a halter, eh?" said the Baronet, colouring deeply as he spoke ; but his countenance became pale, even to ghastliness, as he added, " but I need not blush at the recollection, when I call to mind the number of brave, noble ^ fel- lows, who were in the same condemna- tion with me : would to God they had also received the royal mercy ! Poor Balmerino ! what would I not have en- dured — what would I not have given, to have averted thy doom ? But I ought not to murmur; he died, as he lived, — a hero." Sir William remained silent for some minutes, apparently absorbed in THE REBEL. 65 bitter reflection ; he was at length inter- rupted in his reverie by Kenard Lutter- worth. — " I am thinking*, Sherburne, you would make an excellent husband." " What has brought you to that wise conclusion ?" inquired the Baronet, with great gravity. " Your having proved such a staunch friend," replied Kenard : " but come, man, don't look so dismal on the subject ; who knows but you may have the good fortune to escape matrimony, as cleverly as you did that other awful ceremony, which shall be nameless : you may, per- haps, remember the Italian proverb, " 11 matrimonio e la furca son cose del des- tino;" therefore, cheer up ; 'tis possible, your happy destiny steers out of the line of both these appalling ceremonies." " Very probably," observed the Baro- 66 THE REBEL. net, " but, for my having" hitherto es- caped the matrimonial noose, no thanks to your worship." " To that charge I plead guilty/' re- plied Kenard, " and to speak the truth, nothing would afford me greater pleasure than to see you the husband of Laura Seville : thus much I can safely say, as far as respects my own wishes on the subject ; but remember, it is still within the verge of possibility, though certainly not of probability, that I may have been mistaken with respect to my cousin's partiality for you, for she neves consti- tuted me her father-confessor. At all events, I am glad to find some slight im- pression has at length been produced on your flinty heart." " Perhaps the impression may not be so slight as you imagine," observed Sir William ; " the heart must be flinty in- THE REBEL. 67 deed, that could remain insensible to the retiring, unobtrusive love, of so sweet a woman." " I huve heard, through the medium of Harriet," said Kenard, " that Laura has had a proposal of marriage from Lord Lewiston." How strange and unaccountable is the human heart ! Had Sir William been in- formed only two days previous to this con- versation, that Miss Seville was married to Lord Lewiston, he would have heard it with the most perfect indifference ; and now, the bare mention of a proposal caused him to experience for a moment sorrow and disappointment. " A pro- posal of marriage from Lord Lewiston f" he repeated, in a tone of astonishment. " Yes, such is Harriet's information." " And how was his Lordship received ? 68 THE REBEL. What is likely to be the event ?" enquired Sir William, hastily. " Exactly what might have been ex- pected," replied Kenardj " Laura reject- ed his proposals." " How long is it since he made the offer?" " Upwards of a month," said Kenaid, " and Laura has not seen him since he received his dismission." " He has been flirting with my sister these last three weeks," observed Sir William, " and she appears to receive his attentions with great pleasure — how it will end, heaven knows. I have invited him to spend a few days at Weatherall, by Philly's express orders : indeed, had I not obeyed, peace would have been a stranger in the land. — But come, we must quicken our paces, or Lewiston will ar- rive before us.'* THE REBEL. 69 As they entered the road leading to the Lodge, Sir William observed to Kenard; " I am greatly afraid the lease of my liberty is expiring. I am certainly either in love or in a fair way of being so — I had no idea the little urchin was so quick in his operations." " He never, perhaps, wounds with more certainty " replied Kenard, " or more expedition, than when he attacks us through the medium of our vanity.'" " There may be some truth in your re- mark," replied Sir William, " but for my part, I am quite a novice in love affairs. I only hope I shall not conduct myself either like a madman or a fool. I remember Rochefoucault says, ' Un honnete homme peut etre amoureux comme un fou, mais non pas comme un sot;' — but I place little faith in his 70 THE REBEL. maxims — heaven grant I may not play the fool." And with this pious wish we will con- clude the chapter, which has, unavoidably, been spun out to a tedious length ; and, we have no doubt, it will be dubbed (by our fair readers) the most stupid, prosy, uninteresting chapter, that ever came under the penetrating influence of their lovely optics. THE REBEL. 71 CHAPTER II. S'il yaun amour pure, et exempt du melange de nos autres passions, c'est celui qui est cache au fond du cceur, et que nous ignorons nous-memes ; mais il n'y a point de deguisement qui puisse long-temps cacher l'amour ou il est, ni le feindre ou il n'est pas. Roche foucault. Sir William and Kenard Lutterworth had left Lord Meldaw only a few mi- nutes, when the honourable and reverend Edward Harrington, one of his Lordship's most intimate friends, called to spend an hour with him ; and his Lordship took the opportunity (being* thus provided with an agreeable companion) of desiring Laura to take a little fresh air and exercise. 72 THE REBEL. " Go, my dear," said his Lordship, " and take a walk — you look very pale. Your close attendance on your poor old father has not agreed with you. If you pass the Lodge, don't forget to ask how Dido is — she was very poorly yesterday ; and tell Benfield to bring Bob, that I may see if he's in good condition." Laura immediately obeyed her father's orders, and set out on her rambles : she walked through the plantation, and en- tered a narrow, shady lane, leading into the Salisbury road. Harriet having said she meant to return that way, Laura prolonged her walk, in the hope of meet- ing her : and in the mean time, she em- ployed herself in taking a regular review of her feelings towards Sir William Sher- burne — she questioned her heart, ' and searched' ' What stir'd it so,' THE REBEL. 73 At the unexpected sight of Sir William. ' Alas ! she found it love!' And she had no sooner drawn this im- portant conclusion, and arrived at the end of the lane that led into the Salis- bury road, than she saw cantering towards her, the man she disliked more than lan- guage can describe; — viz. the Right Honourable Lawrence Branding, Lord Lewiston. Laura instantly turned back, in the hope of regaining the plantation- gate before his Lordship could overtake her — but in vain — he had seen her — and that was sufficient. His Lordship in- stantly dismounted, and turning to his groom, he said, " Take my horse, and lead him down this lane, to yonder white gate, and wait there till I come to you— tell Tom to follow you." Tom, who filled the honourable post of VOL. I. E 74 THE REBEL. jockey to his Lordship, was driving a clumsy single horse-carriage, containing his master's luggage, a fine pointer, and a Swiss valet — and, in Tom's opinion, the latter was by much the most trouble- some, and disagreeable animal of the two. Lord Lewiston followed Laura at a pace which soon brought him by her side. " My adored Miss Seville!" he ex- claimed, in a voice of affected agony, THE REBEL. 109 " Heyday ! are you beginning to talk about books already ?" said the Baronet,, who heard by chance the word volumes ; " you must be strangely altered within these few days, Lewiston, if you are be- come bookish ; that's a crime to which I thought you might always plead * not guilty? But what are these volumes you mentioned? Any thing new ?" His lord- ship was at fault, but the fair Philly an- swered immediately : " Oh ! nothing, my love, nothing of any consequence — only Lord Lewiston has forgotten to bring four volumes of French sonnets, which I asked him to lend me when we were in town." " Bless your lying lips !" said his lord- ship to himself. " Mercy on us I" exclaimed Sir Wil- liam, " four volumes of sonnets ! the au- thor must have ransacked earth, ocean, 110 THE REBEL. and the whole firmament of heaven for subjects ; the sun, moon, and stars, I dare say, had but a weary time of it whilst he was composing'. But who, in the name of wonder, is the author of all these son- nets ?" His lordship was at fault a second time — Philly, however, recovered the scent for him, and replied : " The author, my love, is anonymous — but they have been attributed to Madame de Sevigne." " I would venture to stake my existence, Madame de Sevigne is no more the au- thor of them than 1 am," observed the Baronet. " You would, perhaps, like to be shown to your room, Lewiston," continued Sir William ; " I will ring for Oliver to at- tend you, for it only wants a few minutes to our dinner-hour, and I know your de- votion to the toilet must be attended to. THE REBEL. Ill ere you can condescend to supply the wants of your inward man." When Oliver made his appearance, his lordship left the apartment, inwardly thanking his lucky stars, for having* sent the queen of liars, in the form of Philly, to his assistance. Dinner waited up- wards of an hour for his lordship, who would not be hurried on any occasion, in the momentous labours of the toilet. He at length appeared arrayed in the extreme of the fashion, and his whole person set off, as he imagined, to the greatest ad- vantage, and ready for the further perusal of the interesting* Phillippa. " Pray how long do you usually take in adorning- yourself?" inquired the Ba- ronet ; " you have now been exactly sixty- seven minutes !" " It depends altogether on circum- stances," replied his lordship; " I have 112 THE REBEL. been a short time to-day, having only made a few trifling alterations/ ' " I would not be such a slave to my person for the whole universe,' ' exclaim- ed Sir William. " Nor should I— were it not for the sake of those soft and lovely souls (here his lordship cast a languishing look on Philly) without whom the universe would be a perfect blank, a total void, a cheer- less vacuum !" " The universe in that case, would very much resemble the present state of my poor stomach,' ■ replied the Baronet, " begging your pardon for the coarseness of my comparison." Dinner being announced, his lordship conducted the smiling, sweet, and affable Philly, to the dining-room 5 and during the repast, paid her that kind of exclu- sive and undivided attention, which is so THE REBEL. 113 extremely agreeable to ladies of all ages, and of all ranks ; from the daughter of a potentate to the poverty-struck inhabi- tant of a mud-walled cabin. When Miss Philly retired to the drawing-room, his lordship said, " I slept at Salisbury last night, and dined at the Bishop's, and may the devil take his reverence,, I say !" " For giving you a good dinner and a night's lodging ?" inquired Kenard Lut- terworth. " No, — confound him — not for that, but for advising me to come here by a devilish dusty road, leading past Belting- ham, under pretence of its being the shortest. ,, " Then you wish the good and hospi- table bishop at the devil for having kindly shortened your journey, eh ?" " No, hang him — the road was two miles about at least, " 114 THE REBEL. " I beg pardon — the way you came is the shortest by upwards of a mile," ob- served Kenard. " At all events 'tis confoundedly dusty — in ten minutes I was fairly covered with its impurities. " " There were no such symptoms on your clothes when you arrived," said Kenard. " Oh, my dear sir, that was your want of observation — and then the stupid old fool—" " My lord!" exclaimed Kenard Lutter- worth, drawing up his fine form to its full height, whilst the blood rushed to his face as he spoke — " My lord, I ask par- don for interrupting you, but I wish to call to your remembrance,, once for all, that the Bishop of Salisbury is my friend" ie Oh faith, Mr. Lutterworth, I crave your pardon, but I was only going to ob- THE REBEL. 115 serve, that the Right Reverend Bishop did me the honour of inviting a whole herd of parsons to meet me, and play at whist (they are the devil's own for that) and I'll be d — d if they didn't fleece me of twenty guineas." " I dare say it was your own fault," said the Baronet ; " you will always bet so high." " And I would stake my life they did not require the payment of your bets," observed Kenard Lutterworth. " But I should be glad to know what right parsons have to play at cards at all?" inquired his lordship. " They have more right to play at cards, I imagine," replied Kenard, " pro- vided they do not gamble, than a lord has to lose more money than it is convenient for him to pay." Lord Lewis ton, for reasons best known 116 THE REBEL. to himself and Kenard Lutterworth, did not think proper to make any reply to this remark ; although very strong* emphasis had been laid on the latter part of the sentence. Having drummed for a few seconds with his fingers on the table, he started up rather suddenly, and observing he had " a confounded head-ache," he left the apartment, in order to join Miss Philly in the drawing-room. " Lewiston's head-ache attacked him very suddenly," said the Baronet. " Yes, and I am disposed to think my observation occasioned it — or at least made him desirous of quitting our com- pany, for the more soothing and agreeable conversation of your sister. I am sur- prised he continues to vent his spleen against the clergy in my presence ; I have convinced him more than once, that he cannot do so with impunity." THE REBEL. 117 " He is such a silly fellow," observed Sir William, " I would never regard his remarks, if I were in your place ; they are scarcely ever deserving of an answer, and you know the wisest of men has said, 8 Answer not a fool according- to his folly, lest thou also be like unto him. , ' " But the same high authority you have quoted," replied Kenard, u has also told us to, ' Answer a fool according to his folly — lest he be wise in his own conceit;' — and, moreover, I should find it extremely difficult to sit and hear all his silly ob- servations, without occasionally contra- dicting him." " I believe you," said Sir William : " truly I never remember seeing* you to- gether, for even half an hour, without a few slight skirmishes ensuing." " I cannot, for the life of me, help it — I have such an utter contempt for him." 118 THE REBEL. " I doubt that ; — were it really the case, you would not deign to answer his remarks." " It may be very easy for a man of your temper to think so, and to act so, but remember I have very quick feel- ings, and am by no means blessed with your equanimity. ic Pray how old is your cousin Laura ?" inquired Sir William, whose thoughts had, for some time, been occupied by the lovely girl he had seen that morning at Belting- ham. " She is nearly nineteen, I believe." u I am prodigiously disposed to pay Lord Moldaw a visit to-morrow morning • I wish to have a little private conversation with him, previously to my paying* any attention to Miss Seville. Because, should the choleric old gentleman have any other fellow in view for his son-in-law, he THE REBEL. 119 would wish me at the devil; and however much I loved a woman, nothing earthly should induce me to marry her against the consent of her parents." " You talk like a very steady old bachelor, but had you received your wound at nineteen, instead of nine and twenty, you would most likely have thought and acted diametrically opposite to your pre- sent wise resolutions. But you cannot possibly go to-morrow ; it is the first of September." " D — n the first of September !" " Now may heaven have mercy on you!" exclaimed Kenard, raising both his hands in utter astonishment, " you must be on the very brink of madness to d — n the first of September ; of all the days in the year, the one to which you have, hitherto, looked forward with the greatest delight ! Pray may I dare to inquire if 120 THE REBEL. you intend to go raving or melancholy mad ? Because I must have the jackets provided immediately." " Ha, ha,, ha ! well I protest," said the Baronet, still laughing, " you are vastly considerate and accommodating — and your idea of my having it in my power to choose between the melancholy and raving state, is undoubtedly very sublime and original. But notwithstanding your jibes, Kenard, I am determined on going to Beltingham to-morrow ; you must, therefore, favor me by supplying my place, and take a day's shooting with Lord Lewiston ; and I will send a note immediately to ask Harrington to join you, and dine with us; you will have fine sport ; Harrington is a capital shot." " But, my dear friend," said Kenard, with great gravity, " you cannot have forgotten, that Seneca savs there are THE REBEL. 121 three points to be considered in all our undertakings,— and the first point is" — " D — n the first point — and the second too — and the third along with it — I say," exclaimed Sir William, with a slight sprinkling of impatience. " Heaven for- fend!" replied Kenard, " 1 would not wish even one of the points in question to be d — d, but, my dear sir, I am con- cerned to observe, that the pinions of the little blind urchin have slightly ruffled the equanimity of your temper; and have, moreover, led you into the com- mission of a very great sin ; and, as a justice of peace, I here fine you fifteen shillings, five for each of the oaths you have so irreverently sworn in my pre- sence!" " Upon my life, Kenard, this is very cruel of you — I solemnly protest you have been the prime and active agent in VOL. I. G 122 THE EEBEL. bringing my feelings and inclinations to their present bearing; and having brought me into such a dilemma, tis surely un- kind to laugh and jest at my expence." This was uttered in a tone half serious, half comic. " Laugh !" repeated Kenard, (i I will forfeit my gown, and with it the good living of Wentbridge, if mortal man, or woman either, hath heard me laugh for these three weeks past. But, for the fu- ture, you may rely upon my having a most delicate regard to your newly-ac- quired and tender sensibilities. But to proceed with my points," continued Ken- ard, with affected gravity of manner, " or rather, I should say, Seneca's, ' In whatever we take in hand, let us con- sider our own strength ; — next, the un- dertaking ; — and, lastly, the people with whom we are concerned. The first point THE REBEL. 123 is undoubtedly the most important ; be- cause we are apt to set too great a value upon ourselves, and in consequence, ima- gine we can do more than we are really capable of.' Now, my dear sir, do you not admit the first point to be worthy of the most profound consideration ? Do you really think you possess sufficient strength of nerve, and mental resolution, to address Laura Seville, on the awful subject of matrimony, without consider- able trepidation, hesitation, and stam- mering- ?" " Ha, ha, ha! thou art the most impu- dent dog in the three kingdoms — that's a settled point, Kenard ; and a point at which I have arrived without the assis- tance of thy friend Seneca, whose opi- nions thou hast introduced for two pur- poses, first, to prove thou hast not for- 124 THE REBEJL. gotten thy Latin*, and secondly, to wipe off an old score, contracted somewhere about the year 46 ; thoa hast succeeded admirably in thy undertaking- ; so a truce to thy fooleries, for pity's sake." " But, seriously speaking," said Ke- nard, laying aside his affected, magisterial tone, " are you not rather precipitate in making your proposals?" " No, — not in the least ; — when I have once formed a wise resolution, I am al- ways of opinion the sooner I put it in execution the better." " Are you quite sure your present re- solution is a wise one ?" " To be sure I am ; can I do more wisely than take a wife of whom you approve ? You, Kenard, of whose steady * 1 thought it would be wiser to give the quotation in English. — Editor. THE REBEL. 125 friendship and unchangeable affection I am so well convinced ?" " Yes, you may act more wisely — take time, and judge for yourself, before you make any proposals, either to my uncle or his daughter." " Pshaw!" said the Baronet, rather peevishly, " I should be glad to know what opportunities I have, or can have, of judging for myself, situated as we are; besides, have I not your word for Laura's excellent temper and disposition ? Your word — Kenard, which for years I have found true — true as the Gospel itself?" (4 Very well, my dear fellow," said Kenard, " take your own way, and manage this important affair exactly as you think proper ; only I must again observe, I cannot see any occasion for your being in such violent haste to visit Beltingham 126 THE REBEL. again; remember you were there only this morning"." " There's no need of your reminding me of that circumstance, and I have also such a very distinct recollection of the sweet girl, who was so affectionately attending her father when we entered the room, that I am fully determined, as I said before,, on seeing her again to-mor- row. Besides, I am of opinion there is no time to be lost, for you may rely upon it, Lewiston will take the first oppor- tunity of going to Beltingham; it will be a wonder to me if he desist on the failure of his first attack. I have no faith in the attentions he is paying my sister — he would desert her without any remorse of conscience, if there were any likelihood of his succeeding with Laura; and she, dear girl, might, perhaps, accept THE REBEL. 127 of the second proposal, out of mere — no, hang it" — said the Baronet, cutting short his sentence, " no, hang it — I won't sus- pect her of such a thing ! But say what you will, Kenard, I am resolved on going to Beltingham to-morrow morning." " I shall say no more on the subject ; you have my very best wishes for your success; and you may depend upon it Laura would not accept of Lord Lewis ton could he even lay kingdoms at her feet." " I am glad to hear that is your opi- nion ; now go, there's a good fellow, and join the turtle doves in the drawing- room, whilst I write my note to Har- rington; and don't whisper a syllable concerning my intended visit to Belting- ham. But let me conjure thee to stop one moment, and tell me, for T suppose thou canst, what are the principal symp- toms of a man's being in love ?" 128 THE REBEL,. " Really the symptoms are so nu- merous and so various, it would require a considerable time to give you a regular and clear definition of them all," replied Kenard. " Oh, in that case, you may save your- self the trouble, and go about your busi- ness, for I believe I can determine^ with- out any of your clear and regular defini- tions, that I am extremely anxious to have Laura Seville for my wife — and this anx- iety, I presume, is tantamount to being in love, if it be not love itself. So now you may depart, and I will console myself with the hope I am not singular in my folly ; at least, not if the poet spoke the ruth when he said : " As first or last we all must die, So 'tis as much decreed above, That first, or last, we all must love." We cannot do better than conclude our THE REBEL. 129 chapter with this orthodox quotation; which is no doubt in unison with the sen- timents of every young lady and gentle- man of seventeen years of age (or under) who, like the Baronet, has been en- tangled and bewildered in the intricate labyrinths of love. G 2 130 THE REBEL. CHAPTER IV. What 1 I ! I love ! I sue ! I seek a wife ! Love's Labour's Lost. Amo le solo ; Te solo amai ; Tu fosti il primo, Tu pur sarai L'ultimo eggetto Che adorero. Metastasio. When Kenard Lutterworth entered the drawing-room, the loving couple had ab- sconded to a neighbouring wood, to coo and confabulate in privacy and at their leisure. They returned, however, in to- lerable good time, considering how ra- pidly it wings its flight with people in their THE REBEL. 131 situation. Though it is ten chances to one, but they had spent the whole evening (and night too) under the sweet shade of some softly- waving, silvery birch, had it not been for his Lordship, whose ideas of time seem, on the present occasion, to have been infinitely more accurate than Philips. " Had we not better return, my fairest Phillippa ? From the appearance, or ra- ther wo/i-appearance, of the great lumi- nary of the heavens, I conjecture 'tis the hour when lovely flowers like you, my Philo, ought to be sheltered from the dews of the evening-tide air. I unfor- tunately left my repeater on my dressing- table ; — but let us haste, my Philo, the damp is falling around us !" The truth was, his Lordship was fairly tired of wooing and cooing, and was more desirous to refresh himself with a cup 132 THE REBEL. of coffee than to save Philly from the dews of the evening'. " I don't feel any damp, my dear Lord Lewiston; but indeed I am insensi- ble to every thing but delight, whilst thus hanging on your arm !" — This delicate speech was accompanied by a look, so full of meaning, and so strongly expres- sive of her feelings towards his Lordship, that had he not been occupied at that moment (in removing a small thread of silk from his breeches' knee) the look must inevitably have penetrated to his midolla spina le. The remainder of the evening passed off tolerably well, considering the whole party were thinking on subjects diame- trically opposite to those on which they were conversing. Mr. Harrington ar- rived early the following morning — ready equipped for a shooting excursion ; and THE REBEL. 133 Sir William saw the three gentlemen de- part with infinite satisfaction. He apo- logized for not accompanying' them, by saying, that some particular business pre- vented him. Great was the curiosity of Miss Philly to know the nature of the important busi- ness which detained her brother from the field ; and her desire to fathom the par- ticulars, was wound up to a most painful pitch, when she saw the Baronet mount his horse, about eleven o'clock, and ride unattended towards the chace. Another circumstance in Sir William's conduct that morning, had also struck Miss Philly with great astonishment; for whilst she examined, and cross-examined him, he repeatedly paid his respects to a large mirror, — dashing the wavy brown locks from his brow, and anon replacing them 134 THE REBEL. in their former station ; as if anxious to determine which was the most becoming 1 to his fine Roman face, — the covered, or uncovered forehead ; — then followed sun- dry alterations, twitcbings and twisting of the neckcloth, with a variety of other manoeuvres, too numerous to be men- tioned. " Positively, William, I think you are mad this morning," exclaimed Miss Philly, as she observed her brother place himself for the third time before the glass. " Ha ! ha ! ha ! faith, I believe you may be more than half right, Philly/' — But the Baronet's ha, ha, ha, or slight laugh, appeared to have been uttered more for the sake of observing how his mouth looked when rather in an expanded state, than for any wit he discovered in his sister's observation. THE REBEL. 135 " I think a man of nine-and-twenty might be better employed than in playing the fool before a looking-glass." " Right again, Philly ! by the Lord Harry, yon are grown quite sensible this morning — so I am off — but pray, bear in your recollection, that I want some months of being nine-and-twenty; and, moreover, every one allows I look at least five years younger than I really am. It is a prodigious advantage certainly," added Sir William, as he took a parting view of his fine person, " 'tis a wonder- ful advantage, in some cases, not to cany a certificate of one's birth on the fore- head." — He then departed, leaving Miss Philly on the sharp, pricking thorns of curiosity. As Sir William pursued his way to Beltingham, he amused himself by framing a variety of eloquent speeches, which he never doubted he should be able 136 THE REBEL. to breathe into the ear of the lovely Laura, with a pathos irresistible. When he arrived at Lord Moldaw's, the servant informed him his Lordship was still in his bed-room ; and the man added, "If you will please to walk into the drawing- room, sir, I will tell my master you are here:" so saying, the footman opened the door, as far as the hinges would per- mit, and announced, in an audible, pom- pous voice, " Sir William Sherburne." Laura was in the room, sitting with her back towards the door, but she turn- ed at the sound of those three magical words, and presented to the Baronet's view a face suffused with the lovely blush of modesty and surprise. " I have interrupted you, I fear, Miss Seville," said Sir William, observing Laura put some writing into her desk in great haste ; " but I have a question to — THE REBEL. 137 to — I — I have business of — of importance with your father." At this moment, Kenard Lutterworth's remarks and quo- tations from Seneca, came to his mind; and notwithstanding the awful and solemn business in which he was about to engage, a smile (we blush to relate it; passed across his countenance $ but, fortunately for the Baronet's cause, Laura saw it not, being at that instant engaged in freeing herself from the unmannerly caresses of Duchess, a beautiful and favourite greyhound, which had bounded into the drawing-room after her master. " Down, Duchess, down," said Sir William, in a commanding voice. The animal instantly desisted, and walk- ing quietly across the apartment, com- posedly laid its elegant form on the rug. " Pray be seated, Sir William," said Laura, in a tone sufficiently frigid to have frozen the blood of a Laplander ; " Pray 138 THE REBEL. take a chair, and I will go and inform my father yon are here." The Baronet (who understood not the ways of woman) was dumb-struck for the space of a moment ; but fortunately observing a great degree of agitation in Laura's manner (ill-accord- ing with the assumed frigidity of voice) he mustered his whole stock of courage, perhaps impudence would be a better term, and stepping between her and the door, completely cut off her retreat. Laura looked at him for an instant, with an expression of astonishment not to be described. The Baronet looked like a fool for half a second, when rallying his scattered senses, he took her right hand gently in his, and spoke as follows : " My dear Miss Seville, may I entreat you to favor me with a moment's conver- sation ? for your concurrence to my pro- posal, is of infinitely greater importance THE REBEL. 139 than even your father's." The Baronet paused, — to tell the truth, the touch of the little trembling hand, which he con- tinued to detain a close prisoner, strongly inspired him with a desire, almost irre- sistible, to press its lovely possessor to his heart, — he struggled against the impulse, and continued, in a voice so musical, and so touchingly soft and insinuating, as to thrill to the heart of the trembling Laura. " Let me implore you to hear me, be it only for a moment ! Believe me, my pre- sent and future happiness depend on your granting me this favor." Laura made no effort to retire, and Sir William pro- ceeded. " It will be in vain to obtain your father's consent to pay you those attentions, which you so eminently merit, above all others, if I cannot obtain your's also. Will you then allow me to hope, that at some future period you may be 140 THE REBEL. induced to accept of my hand and for- tune ? My heart I cannot offer, — it is already your's." This address, nonsen- sical as it appears, was too much for Laura, — she could not answer ; and had she been a fainting lady, she must inevi- tably have fallen, either upon the floor, or into the Baronet's arms, — as it happened, she did neither the one nor the other. Sir William, perceiving her pale face and extreme agitation, put his left arm gently round her waist, and led her to the sofa. But far be it from us to expose the Ba- ronet's weakness, by repeating the num- ber of silly things he said upon this occasion ; we will only observe, that he seated himself by her side, and as he looked in her face, and read in her mo- dest countenance what her lips refused to utter, he thought himself the happiest man in existence, and forgot, for the mo- THE REBEL. 141 ment, that Lord Moldaw's consent was still to be obtained. But ere the happy lovers had recovered their wonted com- posure, the door opened, and a servant informed Sir William, that his master would be glad to see him in his bed- room. Lord Moldaw was sitting up in his bed, and expressed both joy and surprise on seeing Sir William. " Upon my soul, Sherburne, this is devilish kind of you, to come and see a gouty old fellow on the first of Septem- ber ; instead of paying your respects to the plump little partridges. Devilish kind, indeed, and very unlike you, Sher- burne, very unlike you, indeed, — but I suppose you were anxious to seethe puppy safely delivered, and so have had him brought under your own eye, — let's have the whelp up, — ring the bell, my boy, — 142 THE REBEL. we'll have the puppy up this instant, — like the mother, I hope, — Sappho's a beautiful bitch ! But do ring", Sherburne, will you?" Poor Sir William was in a pretty di- lemma. He had unfortunately brought no puppy but himself, nor had he, during the whole morning, thought of any ether feminine object than his Lordship's daughter, the Honorable Laura Seville. What an inauspicious moment to open his proposals ! And yet Sir William deter- mined to confess his forgetfulness, and the true cause of his visit, and trust to his Lordship's good-nature for the rest. Had he followed the advice of the wisest of men, and arrived with a gift in his hand, it would, on the present occasion, have been of infinite advantage to his cause. " Why the devil, Sherburne, won't you ring ?" exclaimed Lord Moldaw, " I THE REBEL. 143 tell you, man, I'm all impatience to see the whelp, — I hope 'tis like the mother." His Lordship knit his brows, and his coun- tenance gradually darkened as the Baronet proceeded; but the instant he touched upon the subject of a matrimonial alliance with Miss Seville, his Lordship's face became inflamed with rage. His passion was so violent, that for a moment it choked his utterance ; he, however, soon recovered his speech, and darting a look of ineffable contempt on Sir William, he exclaimed, — "• Do you take me for a madman, sir, that you ask me to bestow on you my best beloved daughter ? Do you think 1 have so far forgotten what is due to mv King, my country, and my family, as to give to your arms a child of mine ? No, sir, a Rebel's blood shall never mix with the blood of a Seville ! Do you imagine, sir, that your disgraceful conduct in **45 144 THE REBEL. and **46, is unknown to me ? No, sir, and it is perhaps more generally known than you suspect. I have hitherto tole- rated your company, sir, because of your sporting qualifications, — but you have changed your game, sir, and I now whis- tle you off. A fellow, before whose eyes a halter has dangled, is not a fit husband for the future Baroness of Moldaw! and, let me tell you, sir, if you do not already know it, that your King is no stranger to your rebellions conduct." " Then, let me tell you, sir," replied the Baronet, in a firm voice, return- ing at the same time his Lordship's look of scorn, " let me tell you, sir, that what it has pleased my sovereign to par- don, it ill becomes Lord Moldaw to re- sent. If his majesty, in consideration of the tried loyalty of my forefathers, has overlooked a youthful indiscretion, I can- THE REBEL. 145 not see why it should be so severely resented by you, sir. And if you talk of blood, I believe the blood of the Percys, which flows in my veins, is to the full as ancient, to the full as noble, as that of the Sevilles. But the hour will come, my Lord, and is perhaps not far distant, when you would give an empire to see your daughter under the protection of a man whose chief happiness it would be to love, honour, and cherish her. When that hour comes, my Lord, you will, I trust, have surmounted prejudices which are unworthy of you ; when that hour comes, you may, perhaps, think of ' the Rebel' you now despise." The Baronet then quitted the apart- ment, without givinghis Lordship time to make any further remark, and joined Laura, to whom he explained what had VOL. I. H 146 THE REBEL. passed between him and her father, — but Sir William was hurt and disappointed, beyond all description, on observing* she listened with the most perfect composure to the intelligence of his rejection ; and unable to restrain his feelings, hesaid, with considerable emotion, — " I see too plainly 1 possess but a trifling portion of your affection, or you could not hear, thus un- moved, of the total extinction of all my hopes.'* This accusation was more than Laura could bear, — and, in spite of all her ef- forts to resist her weakness, she burst into tears. " My own, my dearest Laura !•? ex- claimed Sir William, " I can never forgive myself for having caused you this agitation, — but your apparent calm- ness deceived me, — turn not from me THE REBEL. 147 then, my own Laura, but tell me, be it only by your looks, that you pardon my unintentional error." This speech, which every one must allow, was silly enough in all conscience, produced, nevertheless, the desired effect upon Miss Seville, and she replied : — " I hope, Sir William, there is no im- propriety in my confessing* the sorrow I feel at the undeservedly harsh reception you have met with from my father ; and, I trust, there is nothing indecorous in my adding, I most sincerely wish it had been otherwise. But as the case now stands, I am convinced you will agree with me, that it is absolutely necessary I should obey my father, and by submitting to his will, I shall at least have the satisfaction of knowing, that I am fulfilling one of my greatest duties. My poor father's temper 148 THE REBEL. is at present rendered peevish, and irri- table, by a painful disease ; but I am con- vinced the hour will come, when he will be sincerely sorry for the manner in which he has treated you/' At the commence- ment of this speech Laura blushed, and hesitated most dreadfully; but she no sooner began to speak of her duly to her father, than her voice became firm, and her whole manner resumed its wonted composure. Sir William, who possessed a small portion of common sense, was charmed to see the triumph of duty over youthful inclination ; and although it was his firm intention not to persevere, at that time, in his addresses to Miss Seville, yet he was not a little delighted to find her sen- timents on the subject, entirely corre- sponded with his own. And after hearing THE REBEL. 149 from her sweet lips, that as he had been the first, so he was likely to remain the last, and only object of her regard, he took his leave, firmly determined upon acting 1 in every respect as she had requested. 150 THE REBEL. CHAPTER V. ■ He, that can endure To follow with allegiance a fallen Lord, Does conquer him that did his master conquer, And earns a place i' the story. Antony and Cleopatra. -About, Seek — burn — fire— kill — slay ! — let not a traitor live. Julius Ccesar. Whist Sir William is on his road to Weatherall, we will give a short account of the youthful indiscretion, which had made such a deep and unfavorable im- pression on the mind of Lord Moldaw. In the early part of October 1744, Sir THE REBEL. 151 William embarked from Dover, with the intention of making the tour of Europe ; but he unluckily met the young Preten- der in 1745, and was induced, by the plausible story of that (truly unfortunate) prince, to join his standard ; no entreaties, however, could prevail on Sir William to accept of a commission. " By entering your ranks/' he said, " I may perhaps do you some trifling service, if it be only by my example ; but were I to accept of a commission, I might, through my igno- rance of military tactics, eventually in- jure, instead of promoting, the success of your cause." The prince was touched by a conduct so truly disinterested, and after urging him, but in vain, to give up all idea of entering the ranks, he at length permitted him to follow his inclination — only stipulating, that he should wear his tartan, and be under his own immediate 152 THE REBEL. command. The hardships which Sir Wil- liam at that time endured, are incalcu- lable; frequently sleeping- on the bare ground, with nothing- over his head save his plaid and the wide canopy of EJeaven. His food was often only a little dry bread or biscuit^ and sometimes but a small portion even of that ; and his drink was seldom stronger than plain water. When the prince's army arrived at Culloden, (between six and seven o'clock A. M. on the eventful 16th of April) Sir William was completely worn out, and wrapping his plaid around him, he threw himself upon the ground, in the hope of recruiting his exhausted strength by a few hours sleep 3 but he was roused from his hard bed by the drums beating to arms, and starting up, he immediately prepared for battle ; exhausted as he was (like many other brave fellows) with hunger, and THE REBEL. 153 the fatigue he had undergone the prece- ding nights. * Sir William was among the last to quit the fatal field; but seeing every thing was lost, and being slightly wound- ed, (and sinking, moreover, with an in- jured constitution) he determined on making the best of his way to Brampton, where a particular friend and distant relation of his resided. But great and various were his sufferings before he reached that place ; indeed, his troubles began ere he had proceeded the distance of two furlongs from the field of battle ; for hearing the trampling of horses be- * Horace Stanhope, in this part of his story, entered into a Jong description of the battle of Culloden, &c. but I have taken the liberty of cutting it short ; for he limped along the lines in a manner not to be tolerated by one "who had read that spirited and immortal performance, which bears the title of Waverley. — Ed. H 2 154 THE BEBEL. hind him, he turned and beheld four of the Duke of Cumberland's soldiers gal- loping* towards him. He had taken the precaution of avoiding the high road, and the lane he was in, being only divided from an adjoining field by a low hedge, he instantly sprang over it — but the fel- lows had seen him, and setting up a dreadful yell of " a Highlander ! a Rebel ! a rascally Scot!" they clapped spurs to their horses, leaped the low enclosure, and surrounded the poor Baronet in an instant. " Down with the rebel ! down with him !" cried one of the marauders, aiming at the same time a dreadful stroke at Sir William's head with his sabre ; but the Baronet, with a sudden effort, dashed out of the circle they had formed around him; and instantly thrusting his hand into the right breast of his waistcoat, he drew forth a small pistol, and the next THE REBEL. 155 moment its contents were lodged in the fellow's brain — he sprung two feet above his saddle, then reeled, and fell, never to rise again in this world. D — n him, he's killed Dawson!" exclaimed one of the soldiers, and snatching a large pistol from his holster, he levelled it at the Baronet. The bullet whizzed past his left ear, so awfully near, as to carry away a lock of hair in its course ! " Curse the rebel, I have missed him ! he carries a charmed life, I think! but let's dismount and seize him." " To head-quarters with him," said one. "No, d — n him, let's hang him," aaid another, "he is a devil of a good figure for a gallows." With a move- ment, quick as light, Sir William seized on Dawson's sabre, and stood on the de- fensive. Whiz went another bullet within a few inches of the Baronet's head. " D — n him for a devil incarnate ; he's 156 THE REBEL, bullet proof, 1 think. I'll be cursed if it didn't go in at his mouth!" This latter gentleman was one of those excellent marksmen, who would much sooner be- lieve in a miracle, than in the possibility of their having missed their aim. " Curse him," said the same fellow, " we'll see if he's hemp proof; I've a pretty piece of cord here, w ith a noose ready-made, and the fellow looks no great weight, though he's a devilish long limmer ; I think 'twill bear him." The men immediately dis- mounted, and rushing* upon Sir William, they disarmed and secured him; but not before two of them had felt the weight of his arm. The Baronet had not yet spoken, but as one of them was preparing to throw the rope round his neck, he ex- claimed ; " What, in the name of heaven, are you about ? Blow out my brains — stab me to the heart ; but do not, in God's THE REBEL. 157 name, treat a fellow creature as you would a dog!" at the same instant he made a violent effort, and succeeded in liberating his right arm ; the man he ad- dressed, started back — dropped the hal- ter — clasped his hands, and holding them up, exclaimed, in a voice of horror and astonishment, "The Lord forgive me! you are, sir !" then correcting himself, he added, " You are, sir, my best friend, and it shall never be said that Jack Stephen- son either hurt the like of you, or stood by and let another do it. And so my good comrades, let's leave the younker, and go about our business; he was once the means of saving me and mine from star- vation, and great would be my sin, either to be aiding in, or consenting to his death." The fellows grumbled, and looked disappointed at having their game snatched from their cruel hands, for they 158 THE REBEL. were in truth, the brutal servants of a still more blood-thirsty and brutal leader ; and much did it grieve them, to be de- prived of the pleasure and satisfaction of hanging a fellow creature in cool blood ! They, however, walked sulkily towards their horses, and had no sooner turned their backs, than poor Jack Stephenson implored Sir William's forgiveness, and then immediately joined his comrades, being fearful of exciting any suspicion in their minds, respecting the real rank of their late prisoner. » The foregoing, was a striking' instance of the watchfulness, and interposition of an all-seeing, and merciful Providence ; for which, Sir William was profoundly thankful, to the latest hour of his ex- istence. Many people are apt to imagine, that such-like interpositions never occur but in works of [fiction : should any of our THE REBEL. 159 readers belong to this class of sceptics, we need only refer them (for a confutation of their opinions) to the history of their own lives — to that of their friends and ac- quaintances : and should they continue, nevertheless, to doubt, we would advise them to look into the history of the world in general, for a proof (in full) of the falsity of their opinions. 160 THE REBEL. CHAPTER VI All of one nature, of one substance bred, Did lately meet in the intestine shock And furious close of civil butchery, Shall now, in mutual well-beseeming ranks, March all one way ; and be no more oppos'd Against acquaintance, kindred and allies ; The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife, No more shall cut his master. King Henry IV, We will not trouble our readers with the variety of hair-breadth escapes which Sir William experienced, ere he arrived at the place of his destination ; suffice it to say, that on his entering Brampton, he passed through the back part of the town to the Parsonage, and finding the garden gate open, he entered, and advanced to- THE REBEL. 161 wards the house ; but not unobserved, for his friend, the Reverend George Waller, was at that moment standing at the win- dow, amusing himself with the gambols of two favorite greyhounds that were frisking together on the lawn. " Mary," said Mr. Waller to his sister, i( do come here, and tell me if this man, who has so unceremoniously entered the garden, is not very like Sir William Sherburne. I wonder what the chap wants here. ,, " Like him!" exclaimed Miss Waller, " my dear George, it must be himself: no two brothers ever bore so strong a re- semblance to each other, as that young man does to Sir William ; he has his very walk." The Baronet had nearly reached the house, when Mr. Waller looking at him more attentively, exclaimed, " By hea- 162 THE REBEL. ven, Mary, you are right!" and darted out of the room . Sir William was ascending* the steps when his friend met him : " My dear Sherburne, what on earth can have sent you here on foot, and in such a dress?" " My unlucky stars, I suppose," re- plied the Baronet; "but I am a lost man if you don't give me shelter for a short time, till the heat of the search is over, and the Duke's rascals are out of the way." " Come in, come in, for mercy's sake! and I will shelter you so long as you like to remain with me : but what, in the name of wonder! induced you to join the Rebels ? I never expected to see you among the number of those unhappy fugitives?" " A truce to inquiries for the present," said the Baronet, " you shall hear the THE REBEL. 163 whole history of my misadventures in due season ; but I must now beseech you to let me change my dress. There's a wag- gon and a company of the Duke's boys within a furlong of the town, and I'm disposed to think they have got scent of me ; therefore, if you dont't aid me in- stantly in doffing these habiliments, I am undone : they will be here in a minute, as sure as fate ; so if you have any mercy, give me " a suit of sable" this instant. I will then seat myself boldly in your library, and be busily occupied, should the rascals make any search, in composing a sermon for your worship ; but you must lend me one of your flowing periwigs to put over my hair." Mr. Waller immediately led the way to his bed-room, shaking his head, and groaning inwardly, at the enormity of Sir William's conduct, in having taken 164 THE REBEL. up arms against his lawful sovereign. He, however, supplied him with a regu- lar change of apparel, lecturing at the same time most learnedly on the folly and wickedness of Sir William's political principles. The Baronet had scarcely completed his toilet, when the waggon he had men- tioned stopped at the gate, and a tall figure, wrapped in a military cloak, was lifted out, and supported between two soldiers towards the house. " I hope they don't mean to turn my house into an hospital," observed Mr. Waller, as he witnessed the arrival from the window. " Here's one of the Duke's officers, who appears as if he had been wounded. At all events, do you remain quietly in this room, till I go and reconnoitre." When he descended, the three military men were in the hall, and the officer was THE REBEL. 165 in the act of giving- the soldiers some gra- tuity for their trouble • on hearing a foot- step he turned round, and discovered to Mr. Waller's view the well-known coun- tenance of Kenard Lutterworth. The soldiers no sooner saw their officer was well received, and likely to be taken care of, than they touched their caps, and departed to join their comrades. " I am afraid you suffer dreadfully from your wound," said Mr. Waller, observing his friend's pale and haggard face : " take my arm, and let me support you to an easy couch we have in the sitting-room ; and my sister will instantly order some refreshment for you : but tell me, where are you wounded ? shall I send for a surgeon?" " My wound," replied Kenard, " bad as it is, gives me but little uneasiness, com- pared to what I have for some time past 166 THE REBEL. been suffering in my mind, on account of a particular friend of mine, who unfor- tunately joined the Rebels last year; and I am well assured, he had not left them on the 16th : I pray to God, he may not be among* the number of prisoners! He would obtain no mercy ; and I could bet- ter support the certainty of his having died in battle, than the probability of his execution." Here poor Kenard was quite overcome. His extreme anxiety of mind, together with the loss of blood, completely over- powered him ; and whilst Mr. Waller left him, to ring the bell for assistance, he fell apparently lifeless on the floor. All this passed in a minute, and Sir Wil- liam, who had from the window seen the soldiers depart, no sooner remarked their uniform, than a thought glanced across his mind with the rapidity of light — and THE REBEL. 167 ere the servant could obey his master's summons, Sir William held his wounded friend in his arms. It was some time before Kenard re- vived; but when he returned to his senses, and found himself supported by Sir Wil- liam, his joy was unutterable. No two lovers ever felt greater happiness on being restored to each other's arms, than these friends experienced at their unexpected meeting; their love, indeed, " passed the love of woman !" It has often been as- serted, that true friendship is more rare than true love : this is a point we will not contend ; but if true, disinterested friend- ship, ever existed between man and man, it was between Kenard Lutterworth and Sir William Sherburne. " I ought to apologize, Waller," said Kenard, " for having quartered myself so unceremoniously upon you ; but knowing 168 THE REBEL. you were residing- here, I thought it would be better to trouble you for a few days, than run the risk of increasing* my fever by proceeding to Beverley. Indeed, I consider my arrival here as altogether providential, for it has removed a weight from my mind, that was becoming almost insupportable.' ' " I hope you will neither talk, nor think of leaving my house," replied Mr. Waller, " until you are completely recovered, and I shall send for a surgeon immediately. In the mean time, keep yourself quiet, and Sherburne will be your guard, till I go and give some necessary orders con- cerning you both.'' During Mr. Waller's absence the two friends entered into a mutual explanation of their past actions, and Sir William defended the part he had taken with his whole force. He was induced, however, THE REBEL. 169 by the earnest entreaties of his friend, to pass his word of honour, that, should any future rebellion break out, he would re- main in a state of neutrality ; more than this, Kenard could not obtain from him. " May I perish !" exclaimed the Baro- net, in reply to an observation of Kenard's, " may I perish on the day in which I dare to lift my hand against my lawful sovereign ! No, Kenard, it is not even in your power to prevail on me to com- mit an act so base. Poor Charles ! God only knows how devoted I have been to his cause, and how freely I would at this moment lay down my life to serve him. He said to me only half an hour before our last disastrous battle, ' If my ranks were filled by men possessed of your courage, Sir William, and commanded by officers possessing your good sense, to- VOL. I. I 170 THE REBEL. morrow's sun would see me on the throne of my fathers!' " " A very delicate piece of flattery, truly," said Kenard, " and an ample recompense, no doubt, for all you have suffered, and may hereafter suffer on his account! indeed I am truly sorry to tell you, that your name is on the Rebel list, and heaven grant you may not be taken ! I strongly advise you to repair to the continent without further delay : your present residence is the worst you could have chosen : the scenes that are now going on at Carlisle, render this a very improper place for you to remain in. You are aware, I suppose, the Earl of Kilmarnock is taken, and that your friend Balmerino has surrendered himself?" " Gracious heaven!" exclaimed Sir William, starting from his seat, " who THE REBEL. 171 could have advised him to commit such an act of madness ? What could be his inducement to throw himself into the fangs of his ferocious, savage, brutal enemies ?V " He probably hopes to obtain his Majesty's pardon," replied Kenard. " Then he hopes for what he will never receive !" said Sir William in a voice of deep feeling — " No, he will be butchered, murdered in cold blood ! Is he at Car- lisle ? If so, I will go and see him, cost what it will." " That would indeed be an act of mad- ness," replied Kenard, " but I can tell you for a certainty, he is not at Carlisle. He is to be conveyed by sea to the Tower of London, — in company with the Earls of Kilmarnock, Cromartie, and some other brave but misguided men, — and let me 172 THE REBEL. beseech you, Sherburne, as you value your life, to leave England immediately.' ' " I do not value my life now !" said the Baronet, throwing himself upon the sofa ; " they may take me if they will, — but no earthly power shall prevail on me to quit England, till I have had an inter- view with Balmerino; therefore tell me where they have confined him, — tell me, I entreat you,, Kenard." u Does Lord Balmerino hold a larger place in your affection than your old friend Kenard Lutterworth?" " Undoubtedly not," replied Sir Wil- liam, " you have ever held the first place in my heart." " Then convince me I do so, my dear Sherburne," said Kenard with emotion, " by giving upyour present intention of an interview with Lord Balmerino. By per- THE REBEL. 173 severing" in your resolution, you will most likely shorten my days, —but you cannot lengthen his. Let me implore you, then, to grant my request ; it is the last , in all human probability, I shall ever trouble you with." The Baronet, in consideration of Ke- nard's weak state, granted his request, — but he added, " if I grant this point to you, I shall expect you to yield another to me ; and that you will allow me to re- main quietly with you till you are reco- vered ; I am safer in this house than on the Continent. Waller is known for a staunch Hanoverian, and it is also well known, you are one of the Duke's officers, and have been severely wounded in fight- ing against your laivful sovereign." Before Kenard could reprimand the Baronet for his rebellious observation, the door opened, and Mary Waller advanced 174 THE REBEL. towards the two friends, and gave them a most sincere welcome. If she shewed a slight sprinkling of tenderness in her manner, when addressing Kenard Lutter- worth, we must excuse her, and bear in our recollection, that Kenard was a loyal subject, and, moreover, a gallant and wounded soldier ; whereas, Sir William, though brave, was a Rebel.. In a short time a servant entered, bear- ing a tray, containing a boiled chicken and other delicacies, proper for an invalid. a I thought," saidMary, " you would prefer dining in this room, for my brother tells me you have great difficulty in walking. When you have eaten something, the sur- geon will attend you ; he is in the house, and, I am inclined to think, will order you to bed. You are looking as if you required rest." Kenard tried, but in vain, to eat the THE REBEL. 175 wing of a chicken, to which Mary had kindly helped him,— and he was, at last, under the necessity of desiring that the surgeon might be shewn in. Mr. Law- son had no sooner examined the woimd, than he shook his head, — looked pro- foundly grave, — and, in a solemn tone, pronounced the wound to be of a most dangerous nature. "Had the bullet, sir, taken a direc- tion only half an inch nearer the region of the heart, you would, at this moment, have been a dead man."' " Your information, Mr. Lawson, is most satisfactory," said Kenard, " but as I am fortunately at this moment a living man, I will thank you to exert your skill, and make me, if possible, a sound one. And Redoubt, the surgeon of our regi- ment, assured me I might be cured in a 176 THE BEBEli. fortnight, provided I employed a skilful doctor/' Mr. Lawson, who was really a clever man, took the hint, and within the time specified, Kenard was sufficiently reco- vered to make the necessary preparations for his intended journey to Beverley. The night before their departure, he said to Sir William, " Well, Sherburne, is every thing in readiness ? Have you ordered the horses ?" " Yes, I have arranged all our con- cerns ; the horses will be at the door punc- tually at nine, and I have engaged a steady fellow to act as factotum, till we arrive at Wentbridge; with a promise to retain him in my service, if he prove attentive." " I positively feel cramped," said Ke- nard, " at the bare idea of having my long body confined in one of those narrow car- THE REBEL. 177 riages for three days ; I suppose we shall not complete our journey in less time." " Oh, never think about it, — stretch out your limbs whilst you may, and trust to Providence for the rest." " Ah!" said Kenard, sorrowfully, " the bodily inconvenience I must suffer, will be as a feather in the scale, when com- pared with the misery I must endure on parting, perhaps for ever, from that modest, sensible, affectionate girl, Mary Waller." " May I be shot for a rebel, if you are not in love !" exclaimed Sir William; "upon my honour, Kenard, I gave you credit for possessing' more sense. I suppose you have made your proposals, and been refused in due form." " I have by no means acted as you imagine,' ' replied Kenard, " I will not deny that Mary Waller is a thousand times I 2 178 THE REBEL. dearer to me than my own existence, —but of this she is totally ignorant ; for I have never uttered a syllable to her on the sub- ject of love, nor shown, by any action of mine, that I must be wretched without her." " Would to heaven / had no greater cause for anxiety !" replied Sir William, (i but if you are likely to be so miserable when divided from your beloved, why not make the proposal, and marry her at once?" " You talk, Sherburne, as if you were a stranger to my circumstances; would you advise me to take a wife, when I can scarcely maintain myself? Would you recommend me to entail misery on Mary Waller, for my own selfish gratification ? No, I am convinced, such would not be your serious advice." " I beg your pardon, Kenard, but your THE REBEL. 179 narrow circumstances completely escaped my memory for the moment ; and now I think of it, poor Mary is portionless. But, my dear fellow, you and I can settle that point to our utmost satisfaction ; there's that legacy of my aunt Weatherall's, — I declare it is quite in my way ; 1 have really more cash than I require, and if you will wait a few months till I am of age, I will make over my aunt's legacy to you, with far more pleasure than I should feel in receiv- ing one of double its value. Therefore, oblige me for once, and don't attempt to refuse me, — if I have any denial, I will call you proud, perverse, and unkind." Kenard experienced a sensation, which, somehow or other, prevented him from im- mediately replying to Sir William's kind offer ; but he quickly recovered, and an- swered, — " It would be utterly impossible, my 180 THE REBEL. dear Sherburne, to express one-half the gratitude I feel for your unbounded gene- rosity. To make such an offer is, indeed, as like you, as the accepting of it would be unlike me. Believe me, when I de- clare, that nothing earthly could induce me to accept of your proposed bounty. — No, my good friend, I cannot so far lessen myself in my own estimation ; but 1 hope to see the day when it may be in my power to maintain a wife with comfort and honour. When that day arrives, and not till then, I will again visit Mary Wal- ler/' The Baronet's further entreaties were in vain. Kenard kept to his first resolu- tion with unshaken firmness. The next morning at nine, instead of the post car- riage Kenard expected, a large commo- dious travelling coach, drawn by four good post horses, stopped at the door. Kenard THE REBEL. 181 looked at Sir William, but before he could speak, the latter observed, — " Don't look so prodigiously thankful, I beseech you, my dear fellow ; I ordered this new carriage from London on purpose to gratify my mother, who charged me not to return to Wentbridgfe without a new travelling coach, as our old one, she said, was so intolerably old-fashioned. On my arrival here I wrote to Bradley to send me a commodious carriage, and I think he has obeyed my orders. My mother may have the pannels emblazoned with the arms when she goes to London ; but I have certain reasons for wishing them to remain plain for the present. T ran no risk in letting Bradley know my address, for he is a staunch friend to the right cause ; but I took the precaution of desiring him to send the carriage here in your name, for fear it should otherwise be detained. 182 THE REBEL. I hope yon now feel satisfied you are under no obligation to me?" Kenard shook his head, being convinced Sir William's excuse had been patched up for the occasion ; he did not, however, make any remark, and the subject dropped. In a few minutes every thing* was in rea- diness for their departure. The Baronet took a friendly leave of the good vicar, — saluted Mary Waller with as much emo- tion as he would have felt had he con- ferred the same favor on a post, and then walked with a light step to the carriage. It was far otherwise with poor Kenard; he turned sorrowfully to Mary, and said, " How can I sufficiently thank you, my dear Miss Waller, for all the kindness and attention you have shown me during my illness ! Believe me, I shall ever re- tain a deep sense of your goodness, ay, even to the hour of my death!" Then THE REBEL. 183 gently kissing her cheek, and wishing her every happiness it was in the powder of this world to bestow, he proceeded with an aching heart to the carriage ; sap- ported, however, by the consciousness of having acted with rectitude and honor. Sir William remained some days at Wentbridge, uncertain as to his own fate, and wretched beyond all description, con- cerning' his friend Lord Balmerino, to whom he was most sincerely attached. But what was his astonishment on the eighth morning after his arrival, to receive a letter written by King George himself, in which that monarch, most generously and humanely granted him a free pardon for the part he had taken in the late war; assigning as his reason for so doing', the unshaken loyalty of Sir William's ances- tors, together with his own youth and in- experience. And his Majesty concluded 184 THE REBEL. with a hope, that his kingdom might never again be visited by that most dread- ful of all scourges, a Civil War. At the termination of the war, Kenard Lutterworth was induced, by the earnest entreaties of his mother, to leave the army and enter himself at Oxford as a candi- date for holy orders; and in the year 1750 Sir William presented him with the valuable living of Wentbridge. Ke- nard immediately determined on a visit to Brampton ; but business of importance detained him a few days at Beverley, and early on the very morning he purposed setting off, the post brought him the fol- lowing letter from Mr. Waller. " My dear Lutterworth, " I take shame to myself for not having sooner answered your kind letter of the 1 7th of last Mav ; but I will TEE REBEL. 185 trust to your indulgence for pardon ; and communicate without further apology, a piece of agreeable intelligence, viz. the marriage of my sister. She was united yesterday morning to Colonel Blackett, a man of good family, and in possession of at least eight thousand pounds per annum. He is twelve years older than Mary, but that's a matter of little importance. Un- der the rose, I was once of opinion my sister had a sort of propendency for you, Kenard ; but I suppose she thought it was not mutual, and therefore wisely nipped it in the bud. She is now a happy wife, and her husband appears to adore her ; how long his transports will last, is a question I must leave to married men to determine. You inquired in your last epistle, if I were likely to become a Bene- dict ? Why, no truly, I hope I have too much judgment to commit such an act of 186 THE REBEL. folly ; I think, with old Johnny Moffat, " that a good wife is a very good thing, but that no wife is better than the bon- niest of them." No, no, I mean to steer clear of the rocks and quicksands of ma- trimony, so long as I am possessed of my senses; though there's no saying what folly I may hereafter commit, should I live to become a Dotard ; which heaven in its infinite mercy avert ! " Remember me kindly to Sir William Sherburne ; he was a lucky fellow to es- cape, as he did, with a whole windpipe. I don't hear of his having any matri- monial scheme in his head — indeed, I believe he is rather a sensible man, putting his political opinions out of the question; on that point, he is folly personified, be- yond all doubt. Poor Tom Wallington was married last month, — I am sorry for his misfortune, because I reallv have a THE REBEL. 187 great regard for him, but he has done for himself now ! 1 think, poor fellow, he had some qualms of conscience when it came to the last push ; for he looked most rueful during the whole ceremony, at which I unfortunately officiated. I say unfortunately, because I have about the same dislike to tying the matrimonial noose (when a friend is in the case) as a tender-hearted Jack Ketch would expe- rience, on performing the last sad office for one of his old cronies. Nav, I am in- clined to think I suffer the most of the two, for Tack has the satisfaction of know- ing he is putting the poor wretch out of his troubles (at least in this world) whilst, on the contrary, I have the melancholy reflection of having tied a noose which will add, soon or late, to the cares, mise- ries, and anxieties of my friend. Indeed to speak the truth, 1 would rather officiate 188 THE REBEL. at a funeral, than a wedding; to my mind, the former is the least melancholy of the two. " I speak as a man," and a Christian. With best compliments to your mother, believe me, my dear Lut- terworth, Your very sincere friend, George Waller. Brampton, Feb. 15, 1750. To describe Kenard's feelings, on read- ing Mr. Waller's letter, would require a more masterly pen than ours. No de- scription, in our power to give, could possibly convey an adequate idea of the extent of his wretchedness; nor was it in the least decreased, by Mr. Waller's foolish remark, made, as he expressed himself, " under the rose." It was true, Mary Waller had remembered Kenard with the warmest affection, for two whole years after his departure from Brampton, THE REBEL. 189 in 1 746 • although during that time she heard neither of him, nor from him. The third year, her pride came to her assist- ance — and she determined, if possible, to forget a man, who appeared so com- pletely to have forgotten her. In the beginning of the fourth year, a very able auxiliary appeared, in the form of a gallant Colonel ; who pleaded his cause with so much warmth and eloquence, that Mary surrendered at discretion after a twelve month's siege; and became the happy wife of the rich, elegant, and sensible Colonel Blackett. N. B. We have placed the Colonel's qualifications in the order in which they usually stand in the estimation of our fair countrywomen — and not as we estimate them. 190 THE REBEL. CHAPTER VII. Hope is a lover's staff; walk hence with that, And manage it against despairing thoughts." Tito Gentlemen of Verona. " So che un sogno e la speranza, So che spesso il ver non dice ; Ma pietosa ingannatrice Consolando almen mi va." Metastasio. We must now resume the original thread of our little history. Our readers may, perhaps, remember w e left Sir William, in the early part of the 4th Chapter, on his way home from Beltingham. The Baronet's meditations were, for a short , time, far from agreeable. His pride was wounded — and he felt beyond measure irritated at his Lordship's renewal of a THE REBEL. 191 youthful indiscretion ; he, however, soon turned his thoughts from the choleric old gentleman, and solaced himself with the delightful certainty of possessing the first place in Laura's affections. He comforted himself also by trusting, that ere long his Lordship would repent of his ungentle- manly and passionate conduct — at all events, he determined to soothe his mind with that great support of thwarted lovers — hope. The first person who greeted Sir William as he entered the house, was Miss Phillippa. "Where have you been, William?" inquired the lady in a tone of authority. " Taking a short ride, my dear — have you wanted me?" " Not I, indeed!" replied Miss Philly, in a scornful voice, " though I think it would have been as polite, had you asked me to accompany you — but what polite- 192 THE REBEL. ness can one expect from a mere sports- man! Though I own I should like to know the nature of this important busi- ness, which has detained you from the field on the first of September — 'tis really quite an event. Pray which way did you ride?" " What is your motive in making that inquiry?" " My motive ! dear how particular you are — I only inquired out of mere idle curiosity." "It is a rule of mine," replied the Baronet, with great gravity, " never to answer questions that arise from mere idle curiosity." So saying, Sir William passed the indignant Philly, and retired to the Library, there to amuse himself till his friends returned. Before three o'clock he was joined by Kenard, who, feeling fatigued, had left Mr. Harrington and THE REBEL. 193 Lord Lewiston, to continue their sport by themselves. " Kenard, my good fellow," exclaimed the Baronet, as his friend entered the Library, " how could you possibly quit the field at this time of the day ? But you are looking confoundedly tired, I confess — that fellow's bullet at Culloden completely ruined you — for a sportsman at least." " I must own," replied Kenard, laying his right hand on his left side as he spoke, " I must own my old enemy here, has prevented me from receiving any pleasure from this day's exertion; if it only de- prived me of my amusements, I should think it of little importance — but, as you well know, it prevents me from doing my duty as Rector of Wentbridge ; which is indeed a source of great uneasiness to me." " More fool you," said Sir William, "cannot youallowyour conscience to slum- VOL. I. K 194 THE REBEL. ber, and keep yourself quiet ? The living, at most, I believe, never exceeds a thou- sand pounds per annum ; and one-fourth of that sum you give the curate who does your duty, and another fourth, I have discovered, is regularly laid out by your orders, on the poor of the parish. I have also discovered" — " Pray leave your Wentbridge dis- coveries for the present," said Kenard, interrupting him, " and tell me the par- ticulars of the voyage of discovery you made this morning, — I am all anxiety to know how my uncle received you ; I conclude he gave you a short lecture,, with reference to your conduct on a certain occasion, which shall be nameless." "It may be nameless with you," re- plied Sir William, " but I promise you Lord Moldaw was by no means so punc- tilious. He made use of such language THE REBEL. 195 to me, that had he not been an infirm old man, by the Lord Harry, I would have sent him a challenge.' ' " You astonish me ! But he did not, surely, give a decided refusal to your pro- posals, merely on the score of a youthful indiscretion ?" " Indeed he did — and refused me too in a most ungentlemanly manner. I never met with such a reception in the whole course of my existence — the old fellow's rage knew no bounds — in fact, he stormed like a madman." " I am very sorry to hear such an in- different account of your expedition," observed Kenard, " but you may depend upon it, my uncle repented of his con- duct, even before you left the house \ he is dreadfully irritable, but he soon re- covers his temper." 196 THE REBEL. " So Laura told me ; she said he would be exceeding! y concerned when he" — " Surely heaven," said Kenard, inter- rupting the Baronet, " you did not make proposals to Laura, after you had been refused by her father ?" " Oh, certainly not," replied Sir Wil- liam, with a demure, sanctified counte- nance, " I am much too prudent to have been guilty of such a flagrant indiscretion. How could you suspect me of having committed such an act of imprudence ? I promise you I managed the affair in a manner infinitely more desirable, — I made my proposals to the daughter, before I spoke to the father." " The deuce you did ! that was acting in direct opposition to your original reso- lution/' "Granted," replied Sir William, "but THE REBEL. 197 the fact is, all my wise resolves were put to immediate flight when I saw your fair cousin; I was shown into the drawing- room, where she was seated alone, and I shall never forget the sweet confusion she was thrown into by my unexpected ap- pearance ; her dear little frame appeared in a complete tremor; and as I viewed her, as she was putting aside her writing materials, I said to myself, ' Is it possible, such an insensible brute, as I have hitherto been, can have possessed the power of ex- citing so much interest in the heart of one so lovely? of one, so amiable? — I am utterly unworthy of her regard ; but, by all that is good, I will, from this instant, endeavour to redeem my character.' And as the sweet girl was making good her retreat, under pretence of telling her father of my arrival, I advanced, and pre- vented her from retiring, by taking her J 98 THE REBEL. hand, and at the same time, making a blundering" confession of my attachment, admiration, &c. &c. She made no reply ; but her varying countenance spoke more eloquently than words, the fullness of her affection for my unworthy-self. After my interview with Lord Moldaw, I returned to Laura, and we had a short, but delight- ful conversation; during which she as- sured me, though with considerable con- fusion, that I need be under no apprehen- sions of a rival ; so that, notwithstanding the old fellow's choler, I am at this mo- ment as happy as a man can be in this world." " And I have really proved a true pro- phet ?" said Kenard, smiling. " Most undoubtedly you have/' replied Sir William, " and to you I owe my pre- sent delightful sensations. Had you not opened my eyes to that sweet girl's par- THE REBEL. 199 tiality for me, I should, in all human pro- bability, have continued to vegetate, like one of the old oaks in Wentbridge Park, and remained for ever a stranger to my present delightful feelings ; I am quite a different creature — and yet this miracu- lous change has been produced in less than three days — 'tis most astonishing !" " It is wonderful, I grant," replied Kenard, " but not most astonishing — in as much, as I am acquainted with an officer who danced one evening at a ball with a very fine girl ; and the next morn- ing, without any further acquaintance with her, he made the fair nymph an offer of his heart, hand, and fortune. — Therefore, you see it is possible to fall in love with even greater expedition than you have shown. Besides, you have known Laura several years ; and, although during that time you have had your eyes closed 200 THE REBEL. to her beauty, yet you could not possibly, I should think, have shut your ears to the many instances I related to you, in the beginning' of the summer, of her kind and charitable disposition. The truth is, you heard them — only they made no impres- sion ; they did not in any way flatter your vanity ; but the instant your self-love was tickled, that same instant, the scales fell from your eyes, and you discovered Laura Seville to be, what in reality she is, a most lovely, modest girl." " And so, Mr. Kenard," said the Ba- ronet, " you are determined on attributing the change in my sentiments, entirely to my vanity and self-love ? Is that what you wish me to understand ?■'' " Exactly so." " Then, by Jupiter, you are a complete Job's comforter. However, I am glad to find there are greater fools in the world than THE REBEL. 201 myself ; 1 think the officer, you mention, cannot be overburthened with intellect." " Oh, I do not by any means advocate his cause," replied Kenard, " I only wished to shew that your conduct has not been so extraordinary as you imagine. For my part, I am no friend, either to rash pro- posals, or hasty marriages/' " There's no occasion to tell me that," observed Sir William, " your preaching and practice are in most perfect accord- ance, it must be allowed. And yet, I can assure you, that the ill success of your prac- tice, I mean with respect to Mary Waller, was one of the principal circumstances that induced me to hasten my proposals to Laura. No, no, Kenard, your theory may perhaps find admirers, but I am convinced it does not always answer when put in practice — witness your own case." " I do not pretend," replied Kenard, K 2 202 THE REBEL. " to hold up my conduct as a pattern for imitation; but I maintain that, situated as I then was, my behaviour to Mary Waller was strictly honourable, and per- fectly free from the slightest shade of selfishness. I am a living instance of the falsity of that maxim of Rochefaucault, in which he says : " II n'y a point de pas- sion ou 1' amour de soi-meme regne si puissamment que dans l'amour; et Ton est souvent plus dispose a sacrifier le repos de ce qu'on aime, qu'a perdre le sien.' — Now, I think, you will agree with me, that nothing could be in greater opposi- tion to this axiom, than my conduct to Mary Waller. Had I considered only my own repose, I would undoubtedly have declared my love, and sought, by every means in my power, to have obtained a return of affection ; but situated as I was, such behaviour would indeed have been THE REBEL. 203 the very height of self-love. Could I have taken a peep into futurity, and have fore- seen, that in four years Parson Fanshaw was to break his neck in a fox-chase, and his living to be presented to me, I might certainly, in that case, have entreated Mary to wait until the happy event took place ; but as I did not possess such pro- phetic knowledge, I must continue to maintain my old opinion ; namely, that I acted wisely for her happiness, in keeping her in ignorance of my attachment. She has for some years possessed a husband who almost adores her, and who has it in his power to provide for her, in a man- ner far superior to any thing I could have done. Waller says, that Colonel Blackett has at least eight thousand a year ; and although money is, generally speaking, a most insignificant consideration with 204 THE REBEL. youthful lovers, yet I do not know how it happens, but it is always discovered by husbands and wives to be an indispensa- ble requisite. " " Well, my good fellow/' replied Sir William, " I will not argue the point with you : indeed, no one who knows you, will ever suspect you of acting- selfishly on any occasion ; but notwithstanding' your opinion, I am convinced Rochefaucault's observation is correct, at least it will be found so, in ninety-nine cases in a hun- dred. And now, Kenard, as I hope shortly to become a married man, T wish I could prevail on you to follow my ex- ample. You appear completely to have conquered your affection for the bonny Cumberland lassie ; you talk of her now with prodigious coolness." " And so indeed I ought/' replied Kenard, " as I have been, for more than THE REBEL. 205 three months, the betrothed husband of another woman." " The Devil you have \" exclaimed Sir William, in a tone of undisguised as- tonishment, " but pray, why have you kept it such a profound secret ?" " Because Lord Moldaw desired me not to make it public ; not that I should have kept it from your knowledge, had I not felt a most particular disinclination to be rallied upon the subject ; however, as you are now under the same condemna- tion, I have no further apprehensions on the score of quizzing." " But what can Lord Moldaw have to do with your mam age ?' You surely don't mean to be led like a boy by your uncle ?" " Oh, no, certainly not ; but, as my fu- ture father-in-law, I must allow him to possess a little influence; — my cousin Harriet Seville, is my destined bride." 206 THE REBEL. " The devil she is \" exclaimed the Baronet, in a voice of extreme astonish- ment, strongly shaded with vexation. " His most infernal Majesty appears a great favourite of yours; his name, T am sorry to remark, constitutes your general exclamation.' ' " But what, in the name of wonder, could have induced you to propose for that girl?" enquired Sir William, without appearing to notice Kenard's last observa- tion. " The same motive which induced you to propose for her sister — love : is there any thing so very astonishing in that ?" " Yes; something very astonishing," replied Sir William, " I should have seen nothing surprising, had you been capti- vated by Laura." " I dare say you would not ; but what is your objection to poor Harriet? She THE REBEL. 207 appears to have produced a disagreeable impression." * Oh, as to my objections, they are, I presume, of little importance," observed Sir William. * At all events, let me hear them/ ' said Kenard. " In the first place, I think Harriet Seville is possessed of no small portion of vanity." " Oh, as to vanity," replied Kenard, " we are all pretty well stocked with that commodity; but pray proceed with the catalogue of her faults." "In the second place, she talks with prodigious volubility." " So do most women," observed Kenard. " And in the third place, whenever I meet her, either at her father's or else- where, she invariably obtrudes herself on •208 THE REBEL. my notice, by asking- me a hundred-and- fifty unmeaning', silly questions." " That is a great crime without doubt, 1 ' said Kenard, with a smile, " and a pro- digious number of questions for one per- son to ask, certainly ; though 1 dare say she asked them with the kind intention of affording you amusement." " Oh, hang such kind intentions/' re- plied Sir William, " I should dislike the most beautiful woman in the creation, if she forced herself in my way; I abomi- nate obtrusiveness in all its ramifications." " But you have surely not finished the list of the poor girl's imperfections — re- member you are only arrived at ' the third place' — pray proceed." " In the fourth place then," added the Baronet, " she has an ugly habit of gig- gling at every observation she hears/' THE REBEL. 209 " Oh, that arises from her perfect good humour; besides,, you have most fre- quently seen her when Lord Lewiston has been of the party — and he is such a con- summate coxcomb, that Harriet cannot forbear laughing", as she often tells me, at his extreme folly.' ' " Well, I have no more to add, except- ing the old observation, viz. ' different people have different opinions.' But still, Kenard, if I had been in your place, I think I should have given the preference to Lady Mary Seaham." A slight colour tinged Kenard 's dark face as he replied, " My cousin Mary is undoubtedly a woman admirably cal- culated to render a sensible man happy ; but she is infinitely above my mark. The Duke of B , and the Earl of Elmer are, at present, both candidates for the favour of her hand, — her brother tells me 210 THE REBEL. she has refused them ; be that as it may, they still persevere in their attentions. " " So I have heard*" said the Baronet, " but let us go and inquire how the sports- men have fared — they passed the window a minute ago." When they entered the hall they found Mr. Harrington, Lord Lewiston, and Miss Phillippa assembled there. His Lordship was expatiating on the amazing execution he had committed among the feathered tribe — and Miss Philly was listening to his recital, with a countenance of the most fixed and tender attention. " Would you not like to go and change your dress, Mr. Harrington?" inquired Miss Philly, who was prodigiously anxious to be left five minutes alone with her be- loved Lewiston : " Your carriage arrived some time ago, and I desired your things might be taken to the red room ; I think THE REBEL. 211 it is a favorite of yours — you have fre- quently slept there, as you may remem- ber." Mr. Harrington took the hint and left the hall. " Do you intend to dine in your shoot- ing dress, Mr. Lutterworth?" inquired the lady, in a tone which she meant to be sarcastic. " I did not intend it, ma'am," replied Kenard, dryly; " but I may as well do so, if you will have the goodness to excuse me, though I would advise Lord Lewiston to lose no time, for the first bell has rung." " The devil it has !" exclaimed his lordship, bounding out of the hall, with a hop, skip, and a jump. " Upon second consideration," said Kenard, addressing Miss Philly, " I will change my dress, ma'am, for it would be encroaching too much on your indul- 212 THE REBEL. gence, to appear at dinner in such a trim as this." Miss Philly made no reply, unless a scornful toss of the head might be con- sidered as such ; the truth was, she most cordially wished Kenard in the infernal regions, for having occasioned the sudden flight of his lordship, at the very moment when she had something of the greatest importance to communicate to him. During dinner, Miss Philly declared she never eat venison in perfection, ex- cepting at Weatherall; and, that she never remembered to have seen so fine a haunch as that of which she was par- taking. " My dear Philly," said her brother, " how rapidly you change your opinions ; only two days ago, you vowed Weatherall was a wilderness, and pro- tested no good thing could come out of it." THE REBEL. 213 "Ah!" said Mr. Harrington, with an arch look at Miss Philly, and a sly glance at Lord Lewiston : " I am inclined to suspect Weatherall is at present blessed with a charm, which makes e'en — — " The barren wilderness to smile !" Am I not correct in my conjectures, Miss Sherburne?" The delighted Philly, simpered, and wriggled her head to and fro ; she would have blushed, had not blushing been ob- solete with her. It will, perhaps, not be amiss, to give a short description of Miss Philly 's person. In point of height, she measured six feet save one inch, and was stout in proportion. Burton, in his Ana- tomy of Melancholy, fin a note we be- lieve) has called a handsome mouth, " a woman's sale piece." Now, if Burton be 214 THE REBEL. right, Miss Phillippa was a saleable bale of goods, inasmuch as she had a well- formed mouth, and uncommonly fine teeth, which she took every possible oc- casion of exhibiting ; and in order to shew them to the greatest advantage, she sometimes elevated her upper lip, and depressed the under one, so as to favor us with a full view not only of her teeth, but of her gums also. Her nose was long and sharp ; we cannot better describe it, than by observing, it was exactly that kind of nose which physiognomists say, denotes a vixen. Her eyes were small and blue, but so far sunk in her head, as to render it necessary to peep two or three times, before you could be satisfied as to their exact colour. She had a high forehead, and a beautiful bloom ; but there were some people malicious enough to start doubts as to her right to this latter THE REBEL. 215 perfection : indeed, there were others, who went so far as to declare, she had her colour imported regularly four times a year from Paris ; and truth obliges us to add, that Kenard Lutterworth, who was an excellent judge of a lady's complexion, was of the latter opinion. He was, how- ever, very cautious in expressing his sen- timents on such a delicate subject, and we had no small difficulty in obtaining his real opinion. Miss Philly was considered, by many people, as a very fine woman. Then again, on the other side, some thought she was on too large a scale ; and Harriet Seville used to say, that she never saw Miss Sherburne without thinking of a Life-Guardsman in disguise. This ele- gant comparison had been repeated (by some kind friend) to Sir William, and was probably the original cause of his dislike to Harriet. Few people can bear 216 THE REBEL. to hear those ridiculed with whom they are nearly connected ; this, no doubt, fre- quently arises from self-love : but we only venture this opinion en passant, and will leave it to be discussed by graver and wiser heads than ours. Miss Sherburne's manners, were those of a woman who has all her life been accustomed to good society ; though we must confess, she oc- casionally assumed those little interesting airs and graces, so frequently practised by youthful beauties ; at such times, her appearance was truly ridiculous, suffi- ciently so to tempt e'en " Thick lipped musing melancholy" to smile. But all her follies and imper- fections were balanced, in Lord Lewis- ton's opinion, by a very large fortune, the management of which was entirely in her own hands ; and this was a point THE REBEL. 217 of considerable importance with his Lord- ship, — for his estates were greatly involved by his debts of honor, and by the heavy interest he paid for various sums he had borrowed, to clear off former debts, of the same description. Under such circumstances, Miss Philly's fortune, was a pearl of great price in the eyes of Lord Lewiston ; he certainly did not admire Miss Sherburne, but as there was no possibility of his possessing- the jewel without the casket, he determined on making himself master of both, without loss of time ; and, in consequence of this resolution, he commenced a close and vigorous attack on the fair Philly's heart ; which surrendered with little or no discretion, on the very first onset. Whilst Sir William and his friends are doing justice to the Weatherall venison, we will return for a few minutes to VOL, 1. L 218 THE REBEL. Laura Seville, who had been summoned by her father, immediately on the Baro- net's departure. " My dear Laura," said his lordship, as she entered the room, " I wish to have a little conversation with you respecting that rebellious hound, Sir William Sher- burne. In the first place, tell me can- didly, has he ever spoken to you on the subject of love?" " Never, my dear father, until this morning'." " Did he make you an offer of mar- riage? Answer me honestly, Laura." " Yes, he did ; but he made the offer previously to his interview with you." " Ah ! he's a cunning villain ! he se- cured a hearing with you first, Laura, knowing full well, he had no chance of succeeding with me — a Rebel ! he knew I would reject his proposals with scorn ! THE REBEL. 219 and I hope, Laura my dear, you also treated him as he deserved ? you gave him a decided refusal, didn't you, my love?" " Indeed I did not," said Laura, in a faultering voice. "What!" vociferated his lordship, " will you dare to marry the Rebel, against my express orders ?" " Never, my dear father!" said Laura, firmly ; " never shall it be said, that I commenced my career as a wife, by an act of disobedience to my father." " That was spoken like my own dar- ling child," said his lordship, embracing Laura at the same time with great affec- tion ; " and now that Rebel may do his worst — he will never be able to prevail on my own Laura, to leave the arms of her poor old father. Oh ! my darling girl ! you little know how happy you have 220 THE REBEL. made me: no one but an affectionate parent can telly what my feelings are at this moment." " Be assured, my dear father," said Laura, the tears starting' as she spoke, " be assured, I shall always consider it my first duty to obey you ; but allow me to observe, that Sir William is not de- serving of the harsh epithets you bestow on him. His political principles have undergone an entire change, and with respect to his conduct towards me, I give you my word, he made no attempts to excite me to disobedience; nay, on the contrary, he highly approved my deter- mination of being guided solely by your commands. Sir William is one of those men, who think an undutiful daughter, can never prove a good wife." " Ah, indeed!" replied Lord Moldaw, with a pondering look ; " wel ! , I confess, THE REBEL. 221 Laura, my dear, I always thought Sher- burne a very good sort of fellow, putting aside his cursed political principles ; but you say he is entirely changed upon that point, how do you know that Laura, hey ? What authority have you, child, for making such an assertion?" " The word of Kenard Lutterworth ; who never speaks at random — who never makes an assertion without being con- vinced of its truth." " Ah !" and you really had that infor- mation from my nephew Kenard? He is to be sure a very excellent character ; he is a thorough Hanoverian — a loyal subject — a good son — a true Seville. But Laura, my dear, even though Sir Wil- liam may have changed his opinions, yet you must never be his wife ; such a stigma will always be attached to his name, that, I think, I would sooner give 222 THE REBEL. my daughter to a beggar than to Sir William Sherburne. Why child, do you not know that he had a private interview at Rome, in the year 45, with the Che- valier de St. George; and also, that he was one of the fellows who accompanied the young Pretender from Prance, in the same year ? Yes, yes, Laura, you are no stranger to his infamous conduct ; I know you are not, child. You know, as well as I do, that he would have been either hanged or beheaded in 46, had it not been for the noble clemency of our good king. No, no, Laura, you must not think of marrying such a thorough paced Rebel! Banish him, my child, from your mind for ever." " But my dear father," said Laura, in a coaxing voice, " Sir William was not of age at the time you allude to." " He was old enough, I presume, to THE REBEL. 223 know his duty to his king and his country. And could I have supposed a child of mine, would ever have listened to the addresses of such a Rebel, I would have forbid him my house for ever ! Upon my life, Laura, his proposing* for you as- tonishes me beyond measure ; I never thought him a marrying man, he is so utterly indifferent to the women ; so keen a sportsman ; so full of his horses, dogs, and guns, that I never for an instant imagined, he had any designs on my dar- ling child. But think of him no more, Laura; he is unworthy of you." " Ah! my good father/' said Laura, affectionately kissing his Lordship, and blushing deeply as she spoke, " believe me, it is easier for you to give that order, than for me to obey it. However, you may be assured I will never wilfully dis- obey you." *24 THE REBEL. "You are a good girl, Laura!" said Lord Moldaw, considerably softened in his manner, " a very good girl ; and, heaven knows! I would sacrifice much, ay, even my own happiness, to secure your peace of mind. And now, my darling, leave me for the present, for I wish to dress; but ring the bell before you go, my love." Laura returned to the drawing-room with a light heart; she knew her father's temper thoroughly, and felt positive he would, in a short time, listen to reason. Her principal hope rested on Kenard Lutterworth, to whom she was certain her father would apply for information respecting Sir William's change of senti- ments, on that truly Intricate and per- plexing subj ect, — Politics, THE REBEL. 225 CHAPTER VIL If every just man, that now pines with want, Had but a moderate and beseeming share, Of that which lewdly-pamper'd Luxury Now heaps upon some few with vast excess, Nature's full blessings would be well dispens d In unsuperfluous, even proportion, And she no whit encumber'd with her store : And then the Giver would be better thank'd, His praise due paid ; for swinish Gluttony Ne'er looks to Heaven amidst his gorgeous feast, But with besotted, base ingratitude Crams, and blasphemes his Feeder. Comus. Mr. Harrington took leave of his Weatherall friends at an early hour, with a promise to return the next morning-, and join Sir William and Lord Lewiston ! 2 226 THE REBEL. in another day's sport. Kenard Lutter- worth declined accompanying them, as he intended to go to Beltingham, for the purpose of seing his mother and Harriet Seville. On this auspicious evening, (the 1st of September, 1755,) Miss Philly was made the happiest of women : her attached, her faithful Lewiston declared the full extent of his love, and swore, by all the gods in the Pantheon, that he could not exist if 'she did not promise to be his for ever ! Under such circumstances, the interest- ing Philly could not, in common humani- ty, refuse to grant his Lordship's request; and as he protested so solemnly, he could not live without her, the gentle nymph took compassion on his misery, and named an early day for the consummation of his happiness. But his Lordship entreated Miss Sherburne not to mention the sub- THE REBEL. 227 ject to her brother, until a day or two of the blessed event; he said, he was fully convinced both Sir William and Mr. Lut- terworth were his enemies, and would, no doubt, unite their efforts in endeavour- ing- to prejudice the mind of his adorable Phillippa against him. The tender- hearted damsel assured his Lordship, no earthly power could produce such an effect; but in order to oblige him, she promised compliance with his request. The fair Philly then retired to her bed- room, inwardly thanking her lucky stars for having blessed her with such an ardent lover. To do Miss Phillippa justice, she had an utter abhorrence of your seven years' sieges, and indeed at her time of life, her fortress could not Jiave stood such a siege with impunity. Shortly after Philly's departure, his Lordship also 228 THE REBEL. retired, heartily cursing his unhappy destiny, which compelled him to take a wife he detested, in order to recruit a fortune he had ruined. Our readers will say, perhaps, " this is overdrawn." We can only reply, " it is sketched from na- ture." Mr. Harrington sent a note the following morning, informing Sir Wil- liam it would not be in his power to join him that day, on account of the unex- pected arrival (the evening before) of his friend, Colonel Charles Pleydell ; and in consequence of this information, the Ba- ronet and Lord Lewiston set off to enjoy their day's sport without him. The gen- tlemen were no sooner gone than Miss Philly went to her dressing-room, and summoned Mistress Penelope Simpkins to attend her. " Simpkins," said Miss Phillippa, in a THE REBEL. 229 die -u way, languishing tone, very unusual with her; " Simpkins, I want to consult with you about my wardrobe." " Yes, sure ma'am ; very good," said Mistress Penelope, (who was a native of Wim bourn, in Dorsetshire) ; " but sure, Ma'am, you know all the dresses be pre- pared for your birth- day : there be your mornin-dress, your dinner-dress, and your ball-dress; they be all ready to put on you know, ma'am." " Yes, yes, I am aware of that, but 1 am not thinking of my birth-day; the event will have taken place before that day arrives ! You know, Simpkins, there is a much happier day, than the day of one's birth ; a far better day, Simpkins !" The latter part of this ad- dress touched the string of Mistress Pene- lope's biblical knowledge, which had laid coiled up for some time in a retired corner 230 THE REBEL. of her pericranium. " Oh yes ! sure ma'am," she replied, in a drawling sanctified tone ; " yes, sure, and so there be, ma'am. Solomon says, ' Better is the day of one's death, than the day of one's birth.' But sure, there's no need to think o' that day just yet, ma'am, though you be a-looking shocking bad, sure! Dearey, deareyme! and so kind- hearted too to think o' consul tin me!" added the voluble Mistress Penelope, trying* (but ineffectually) to pump up a few tears. " Oh, sure ! never think, ma'am, o' consul tin me. I'll be happy to take any thing you may like to leave me, though Lady Draggleall left her maid every rag in her wardrobe, sure." This latter sentence was introduced in a sort of parenthesis ; " But, sure, I never thought it was comin to this. Oh, deary me!" she continued, in a whim- THE REBEL. 231 pering tone, " this comes o' not consultin the Doctor about them fly in pains you have had scrlong. But, I hopes, you'll live many's the long year yet, ma'am; though, sure, you be a-lookin, for all the mortal world, like dith !" Here the disconsolate waiting-- woman screwed up her eyes, extended the corners of her capacious mouth, and concealed her tear- less countenance with the left corner of her apron (not having a pocket hand- kerchief about her), whilst the rever- sion of her mistress's orange -tawny, cerulean -blue, and crimson negligees floated (in pleasing perspective) before her delighted optics. " Is the creature mad ?" exclaimed the astonished Philly : "what are you talking about ? what are you thinking of, Simpkins? I am certainly looking a little pale," she added, glancing at 232 THE REBEL. her image, as reflected in a mirror, " but it does not follow, I am to think either of dying*, or making my will : does it, you simpleton ? I have often thought you had not common sense, and now 1 am convinced of it : do dry up your tears, you goose, and give me out those five new pieces of French silk." The crest-fallen Penelope wiped her dry eyes, and proceed ed, with a slow step, to obey her mistress's command. On looking at her pocket-handkerchief, Miss Philly soon discovered the cause of her unusual paleness. The morning chanced to be uncommonly warm, and the fair nymph, feeling herself oppressed by the heat (as she ascended the stairs leading to her dressing-room,) she unthinkingly wiped her lovely visage, and, by this operation, transferred the bloom from her cheeks to her pocket-handkerchief. TBE REBEL. 233 ** Give ine out the piece of white satin 1 bought of Lady Traffick," said Miss Phillippa ; " and now pack up these five pieces very carefully, and send them to Miss Twiddleton, in St. James' -Street : but don't close the parcel till I give you a note to enclose in it." Mistress Penelope received a great variety of orders on the same important subject, with directions to execute them with the greatest possible dispatch. — " Well, sure/' said Mistress Simpkins to herself, " sure now, I dares to wager my best bib and tucker, there's sume truth in what Mr. Oliver told me about my Lord Lewiston and my lady, — I'll warrant it's all gospel 5 and they're a-^oin to be led to the halter of Hainan out o' hand ! Well, for my pai% I likes a weddin as well as a burial, — indeed, and sure, I likes it better, because its 234 THE REBEL. equal profit, and besides that, a body's allowed to shew the joy o' their hearts. Oh, my favirit orange-tawny ! he'll be mine after all, sure." Mistress Penelope was suddenly roused from her delightful re very, by the shrill voice of Miss Philly : " What are you about there, Simpkins ? Did I not order you to bring me the white taffeta? You positively move like a snail : do you mean to obey my commands or not ? you wearing creature!" " Yes, sure, ma'am ; but I'm clean gone into a bamboozlement, sure." " Bamboozlement !" repeated Miss Philly, evidently shocked, " what a hor- rid, vulgar word ; never utter it again in my presence, you low-bred soul ! I don't wonder Lady Squeamish drove you from her house, the first day you entered it." " Low-bred !" echoed the indig- THE REBEL. 235 nant Penelope, with a dignified toss of her head ; " well, and sure, if Tm low- bred, I'd be glad to know what my Lady Squeamish be ? my great-great-grand- father was rector o' the same parish, where her great-great-grandfather was the sexton ! Yes, sure, was he : low- bred soul, sure !" " How dare you repeat my words ! you insolent creature ! but I will be even with you ; you shall have occasion to re- pent of your impertinence, if you don't change your conduct : and here ! I do declare you have laid out the black taf- feta, instead of the white ! I hope it may be long before I want that!" added the gentle Philly, with a deeply-drawn sigh. " Yes, sure, ma'am, and I hope the same!" drawled out the repentant and 236 THE REBEL. sympathetic Abigail, " I hope you won't never have no cation to want nothin of the kind. Here be the white tafty for you, ma'am." On the following* morning Lord Le- wi ston ordered his horses, and rode to Mr. Harrington's, for the purpose of see- ing his old acquaintance Colonel Charles Pleydell, and Kenard Lutterworth went to breakfast at Beltingham, and to take a ride in the chace with his cousins, according to an appointment he had made the day before. Sir William took the opportunity, when alone with his sister, of making* a few remarks, which he thought important to her future hap- piness. " Pray my dear Philly," said the Ba- ronet in his very kindest manner, " may I inquire if you intend to accept of Lord THE REBEL. 237 Lewiston for your future husband ? I have no doubt he will shortly make you an offer of bis hand." " I have really not made up my mind on the subject, sir," replied Miss Phil- lippa haughtily, " it will be time suffi- cient to think of that point, when his lordship makes his proposals. Besides, I believe there is no necessity to declare my sentiments to any one — I presume, I am my own mistress/' " There is certainly no necessity for you to do that which is disagreeable to you, my dear Philly, but, as your only brother, and I think you cannot deny I have been an indulgent one, I flattered myself you could have no objections to making me acquainted with your future plans. I thought, moreover, it was not impossible you might be in some degree 238 THE REBEL. biassed by my opinion of his lordship, for you must be aware, I have had frequent opportunities of discovering- his real cha- racter, which you know I informed you some time ago, is bad beyond all descrip- tion." " Sir," exclaimed the enraged Philly, " I wonder how you dare offend my ears by such shameless observations ! There is not a more noble character, a more po- lished courtier in Europe, than Lord Lewiston. Besides, sir, I beg leave to in- form you once more, that I am my own mistress, and old enough to form my own judgment on the point in question." " You are no chicken certainly," said the Baronet, smiling, " and most people would, perhaps, think yon old enough to judge for yourself; but, in my opinion, a woman is never old enough to form a THE REBEL. 239 correct judgment on a certain point — she is too apt to be blinded by her partiality — she is too apt to view the — " " Upon my word, sir, this is mighty fine!" exclaimed the indignant Philly, interrupting her brother, " pray sir, what is all this preamble to lead to ?" " To come to the point at once/' said the Baronet, " Lord Lewiston bears a very bad character, and I know, from the very best authority, that his rent-roll is not worth a sous — he is a ruined man/' iC Then to come to the point with you> sir, I don't believe your information ; best authority, indeed ! some vile slan- derer, I dare stake my existence." " I am not in the habit of listening to the information of slanderers," replied Sir William, " Lord Lewiston is the only person I know, who falls under that de- scription ; and I give you my word of 240 THE REBEL. honour, he should never have entered my doors, had it not heen for your entreaties : I have, however, the satisfaction of know- ing", that in the first instance, at least, I did my duty ; you cannot have forgotten the information I gave you some time back, respecting Lord Lewiston's immoral character ; and now let me supplicate you to consider seriously the consequences of forming a connexion with such a man." " I request, sir," said the irritated lady, " I particularly request yon will never more annoy me by the introduction of this subject; if you name it in my presence again, I will leave your house and protection for ever !" " But, my dear Philly, you must be well aware I feel a great interest in all that concerns you — in every thing that relates either to your present or future THE REBEL. 241 welfare : you must therefore place to the ac- count of my regard, those remarks which have so greatly annoyed you. But I have now done my duty, and will henceforth leave you to your fate, or rather, to your prudence and discretion. And now I must wish you good morning, my dear," said the Baronet, offering Philly his hand, " I am going to ride." Miss Phil- lippa, however, persisted in refusing her brother's proffered hand ; and after he had endeavoured, but in vain, to soothe her irritation, he quitted the apartment, and left her to her own reflections. Sir William then mounted his horse, and went, unattended, to that part of the chase which is situated midway between Weatherall and Beltingham ; and at the moment he entered (by a narrow and almost concealed opening) into the Ban- ditti forest, a part of the chase so called VOL. I. M 242 THE REBEL. from its wild appearance, he saw Kenarcl Lutterworth and his cousins, riding very slowly, at some little distance before him. Sir William immediately quickened his pace, and presently overtook them ; he flourished his hat to the destined bride of his friend, and looked unutterable thing's at the blushing Laura. " La ! Sir William Sherburne, I de- clare!" exclaimed Harriet, "well, how odd, we should meet you in this wild un- frequented spot; but perhaps you knew we intended riding here, did you ? Oh yes, I dare say Kenard told you, did he not?" " Your cousin told me he intended to take you through this part of the chase," replied Sir William, " but he did not mention at what hour; consequently there were ten chances to one against my meet- ing you." " Well, I protest, Sir William," said THE REBEL. 243 Harriet, " 'tis so droll, so romantic, that we should meet in this wild, savage look- ing place ; and so retired as it is too ; but how do you like my new mare? eh?" " A devilish deal better than I do you," thought Sir William. " I think she is a very pretty creature, ma'am, but I cannot judge of her paces, whilst I am so near her." " Oh, but I will set her off in a canter," said Harriet, " and then you must po- sitively give me your real opinion. You are such an excellent judge, you know." So saying, she put the animal into a can- ter, and rode off, accompanied by Kenard Lutterworth. " Heaven be praised!" said the Baro- net, " that is exactly what I wanted;" then addressing Laura, " how inexpres- sibly happy I am, my dear Miss Seville, in having this opportunity of speaking to 244 THE REBEL. you, and of again declaring how dear, how very dear, you are to me. Would to heaven it were in my power to shew publicly my entire devotedness to you. But tell me, my dearest Laura, if you have had any conversation with your fa- ther, respecting me. Am I still to live on hope ? or have you any thing substan- tial to offer me?" Our fair and youth- ful readers will, no doubt, be much amused at the homeliness and inelegance of the Baronet's address ; but we entreat them, to take into consideration, that he was a perfect novice in love affairs ; and had, moreover, never read a romance, or an essay on gallantry, in the whole course of his life. His speech, however, unsenti- mental as it was, had a very powerful effect on Laura Seville ; and her riding hat was by no means calculated to con- ceal the mantling blushes which covered THE REBEL. 245 her sweet face, as she replied ; " I think it very probable you will shortly hear from my father, — he had an hour's pri- vate conversation with Ken ard this morn- ing-, and he — " But we will not repeat the remainder of the conversation, which passed between these happy lovers, for nothing* can be more truly uninteresting than the vapid dialogues of lovers who are perfectly happy. When they are so si- tuated, who feels any interest about them? Not a single soul, of course. No, they must be sunk into the very abyss of des- pair and wretchedness, before we can be expected to feel any sympathy for them. In a few minutes Harriet slackened her pace, and was, consequently, soon over- taken by her sister and the Baronet. " Well, Sir William," said Harriet, " I suppose you can tell me now, what you 246 THE REBEL. think of my mare ? but pray give me your candid opinion." " I admire her prodigiously ; but don't you think she has a slight catch with her off fore leg ?" " Oh, mercy, I hope not !" exclaimed Harriet, ci Kenard, dear, have you ob- served it?" " I have certainly not remarked any thing of the kind," replied Kenard, " but as I have been close by your side during the whole ride, I am not so capable of judging as Sherburne ; however we will set off again. I am disposed to think it was only a temporary catch \ and now, Sherburne," he added, with a sly smile, " you must really favour us with your candid opinion this time." They set off once more, but had not proceeded fifty yards, before a tall, thin THE REBEL. 247 military looking figure, suddenly ap- peared from a thicket on the right of Harriet. " For God's sake, your honour," said the poor emaciated fellow, addressing Kenard Lutterworth, " for the love of heaven, bestow a trifle on a poor soldier ! who, after he has spent his best days, and shed his blood in the defence of his country, now finds himself in that very country, a worn out pennyless wan- derer." When Harriet saw the poor fellow, she instantly uttered a faint interesting little shriek, and dropped the reins — which Ke- nard seized, and then stopped the horses, in order to hear the man's story, and afford him some relief. The poor petitioner was clad in an old military coat, which had been frequently repaired, but with little attention to scriptural directions, 248 THE REBElr. for several patches of new bright red cloth shone conspicuous on its tarnished sur- face. His emaciated limbs were partly sheltered by a pair of tattered overalls ; his neck was graced by an old black stock, and a small knapsack w 7 as braced on his back. His complexion was dark and swarthy ; disease and poverty had quenched the fire of his fine black eyes, and mixed a few straggling grey hairs among locks which might, otherwise, have vied with the wing of a raven. He held a foraging cap in his right hand, as he spoke, whilst his left rested on his car- bine. There was something in the poor fellow's voice, countenance, and manner, that strongly prepossessed our party in his favor, with the exception of Harriet, who assured Kenard, in an under tone, (i that she plainly saw by the fellow's face, he was a robber in the disguise of a soldier." THE REBEL. 249 Kenard was fortunately a better phy- siognomist than his future spouse ; and looking* earnestly at the poor fellow, he said, " Were you not one of the dragoons who served under Hal ley at the battle of Culloden ?" " I served under the Duke of Cumber- land, your honour, on the continent, in the year 1747," replied the soldier, " and under the gallant Clive in the East Indies, and was with him when he defeated Raja Saib in the plains of Arani." " That is not a direct answer to my question, " observed Kenard, " but I think I am right in my conjectures re- specting you. I believe your name is Eustace Arrowsmith — indeed, I am cer- tain it is. I now remember your face distinctly." " Your Honour's right, sure enough/' m 2 250 THE REBEL. replied the veteran, looking earnestly at Kenard, " and I'm now quite sure you're Captain Lutterworth, — but your honour is sadly altered since I saw you last.'' " I dare say I am," answered Kenard, " and to tell you the truth, Eustace, you are not looking quite so well as you did nine years ago. But what has brought you into this part of the country ? Though, stop," he added, and turning to Sir William, (who had by this time joined them,) he said, " Sherburne, will you allow me to send this poor man to your house ? We have been fellow soldiers, — and I confess I should like to know what has brought him to this miserable plight -, and when I have heard his story, I may, perhaps, have it in my power to be of some service to him ; he behaved gal- lantly on the memorable 16th of April, THE REBEL. 251 to my knowledge ; though he seems in- clined to overlook his own conduct on that occasion." The latter part of this remark was ex- tremely ill-timed; but to do Kenard jus- tice, it had scarcely escaped from his lips ere he saw his error, and was sorry for it; and the blushes which instantly covered Sir William's face, shewed but too plainly he felt the full force of his friend's ob- servation. He turned, however, to the poor soldier, and said in a good-humoured voice, " Put on your cap, my brave fel- low, and make the best of your way to the end of this forest, where you will see a narrow opening through the jungle on your left; turn down, and keep in the same winding path for about a mile and a half, and you will then observe a very large oak on your right ; when you hae passed that, about twenty yards, you will 252 THE REBEL. come to a road leading' up hill, to a gen- tleman's house. Go in the back way, and tell the servants, Sir William Sherburne desired you might have refreshment and a night's lodging ; and to-morrow, when you are a little recruited, we will hear your story, and see what can be done for you." " May heaven's blessings light on you all !" said the poor fellow, bowing low and proceeding to obey Sir William's di- rections : " Remember," said the Baro- net, calling after him, " remember, when you get to the top of the hill, you must not go along the terrace leading past the front of the house ; but turn to the left, and that will bring you into the court- yard, where you will be certain to see some of the servants." " I quite understand your Honour's orders," replied Eustace, touching his cap THE REBEL. 253 in the military fashion, " and will obey them, you may depend upon it, your Honour." " I hope he will not make any mis- take," said Sir William, " if my sister were to see him in the front of the house, she might be alarmed by his appearance — Philly is prodigiously timid." " Dear bless me !" exclaimed Harriet, "is it possible your sister can be timid ? She is so tall, and stout, she ought to be very courageous." " The mind is not always in exact pro- portion to the body," observed Sir Wil- liam, ei for instance, we sometimes meet with little men who are bold and coura- geous, whilst many tall fellows, with stout bodies, possess cowardly hearts. And again, we occasionally see little de- licate women," glancing his full, elo- quent, dark blue eye on Laura as he spoke, 264 THE REBEL. " who are possessed of firmness and pre- sence of mind ; whilst others, much their superiors in bodily strength, give way, upon every slight occasion, to the most silly and unmeaning fears ; consequently, we cannot always judge correctly from a person's exterior." " Oh, no! to be sure not," said Har- riet, " but then, your sister is so prodi- giously tall, that to hear of her being timid is really quite laughable. We na- turally attach the idea of extreme delicacy with timidity." " Yes," replied Sir William, dryly, " we as naturally attach the idea of de- licacy with timidity, as we do good- breeding and politeness to women of a certain rank ; but I am sorry to say our ideas, in both cases, are sometimes ex- tremely erroneous." " You are quite correct there, ty said THE REBEL. 255 Harriet, " I protest I frequently meet with very ill-bred women, even in a cer- tain class. Now there's Lady Benignia Wiveliscombj who is one of the rudest creatures in existence — don't you agree with me, Sir William ? Did you ever meet with a more disagreeable woman ?" " I have occasionally," replied Sir William,, carefully turning his eyes from Harriet, and composedly stroking down his horse's mane with his whip, " I have some recollection of having seen a more disagreeable woman than her ladyship." " And then again," observed Harriet, " there's Lady Melicent Swaffham, who is extremely ill-bred." " Extremely ill-bred!" echoed Sir William. •' And Lady Clanracket," continued Harriet, " is not two degrees better than 256 THE REBEL. Lady Benignia, she is so very rude and noisy." " So very rude and noisy," replied Sir William. " And then again, there's Lady Lang- thorpe, who has not the least idea of common civility ; hesides, entre nous, she is — but you understand me, I dare say, Sir William. Oh yes, Lady Langthorpe is completely detestable !" " Completely detestable !" echoed Sir William, in a most expressive tone, com- mencing at the same moment a second attack on the mane of his horse. "My dear Harriet!" exclaimed Ke- nard, " Do you mean to run through the whole Court Calendar ? I would not have interrupted you, had you been enume- ratingf the ladies' virtues; but I cannot endure to hear one woman vilify another." THE REBEL. 257 " Then I will never do so again, my darling* Kenard !" said Harriet, in a coaxing, affectionate voice, u I will never do any thing of which you disapprove. There's a pleasure, even in being cor- rected by you, my dear Kenard ; yon do it so mildly, so gently, that I love your very reproofs !" Poor Kenard looked delighted ; he cast a triumphant glance at Sir William (which was almost as full of meaning as Lord Burleigh's shake of the head in the critic) and which said, as plainly as a glance could say, * What do you think of her now ? You cannot but allow she is a charming, candid girl — even her trifling errors lead to the discovery of new beau- ties.' Sir William understood, in some degree, the meaning of Kenard's look, and said to himself, ' Who can hence- forth hope to escape from the iviles of •258 THE REBEL. woman ! when the prudent, the religious, the sensible Kenard Lutterworth, is duped by the fulsome flattery of an artful silly girl!" THE REBEL. •259 CHAPTER VIII Urge me no more, I shall forget myself; Have mind upon your health, tempt me no further. Julius Ccesar. Bewailing His lot unfortunate in nuptial choice. — Samson Jgonistes. When the Baronet and Kenard Lutter- worth returned to the Lodge, they found Lord Lewiston in earnest conversation with Miss Phillippa. His Lordship ap- peared in uncommonly high spirits ; hut a close observer would easily have dis- covered them to he assumed. The truth was, his Lordship had that morning re- ceived (from his valet Lysandre) two 260 THE REBEL. pieces of information — one of which af- forded him considerable satisfaction, whilst the other filled his heart with envy, hatred, and revenge. It appeared from Lysandre's account, that Mrs. Llangollen, Lord Moldaw's housekeeper, had found it necessary to pass his Lordship's bed- I'oom, about a minute after Sir William entered it, on the memorable First of Sep- tember. Now Mistress Llangollen was very fat; and, moreover, very lazy, — consequently, she never moved with much velocity ; but on the present occasion, her paces were particularly slow, and before she had ascended one-third of a small flight of stairs, she distinctly heard her master's voice, raised to the full pitch of indignation. Upon which, her move- ments (as if by instinct) immediately be- came retrograde ; and, notwithstanding her size, andher habitual indolence, the next THE REBEL. 261 moment found her stationed at his Lord- ship's door. Mistress Llangollen in- stantly snatched a piece of cotton (that had been perfumed, and rendered humid by goose-grease) out of her ear, and then applied it with mathematical exactness to the key-hole of the door. In consequence of this operation, she gathered a portion of the conversation which passed between her master and Sir William : and on hearing the latter move towards the door, she again commenced her laborious as cent ; but she had not mounted many steps before she muttered to herself — " Teer, pless me ! vat a plockat I pe ! I teclare I've forcot te key of te planket pox — I must ko town aken." When Mistress Llangollen arrived at the drawing-room door, she was strongly urged by her curiosity to suck in a second edition of key-hole information; but, un- 262 THE REBEL. fortunately, the lovers spoke in a tone much too low, to admit of her hearing- more than a word or two occasionally — but what she heard was satisfactory. And when Laura rang the bell for the servant to attend Sir William, Mistress Llangollen waddled into a little room on her left, until he passed, saying to herself, " If te Paronet has peen patly receivt in te pet- room, ee has not peen receivt patly in te trawin-room — no, no; it' sailed/ and honey in tat quarter, I do pelieve !" The Baronet was no sooner departed than Mistress Llangollen descended to the butler's pantry, where she completely for- got the key of the blanket box in her ex- treme hurry and anxiety to relate all she had heard, and also much she had not heard, to Mr. Cork the butler. And he took the first opportunity of relating the adventure, with some slight alterations, to THE REBEL. 263 the under butler, who detailed it, with considerable variations, to the footmen \ from whom it descended, with additions, to the grooms — who gave an improved and enlarged edition to Kenard Lutter- worth's servant; and he, to do him jus- tice, gave a very faithful account of all he had heard to Lord Lew is ton's groom — who dealt it out, with alterations, to Ly- sandre — and Lysandre gave a most cu- rious description of the whole affair, in broken English, to his master. The heads of the history, as related to Lord Lewis- ton, were as follow : Mistress Langollen, according to her own account, was on the point of going to her master's room, for the purpose of asking him some important question re- lative to her domestic concerns (with which, by the bye, he never interfered) when hearing her master was engaged in 264 THE REBEL. conversation with some person, she turned with the intention of going down stairs; but the next moment^ she heard his Lord- ship's voice raised to such a pitch of rage, that she was of opinion it would be much better for her to remain at the door, in case her master's passion sent the gout to his stomach — when he would, of course, require some one to give him his gout cordial. Mistress Llangollen confessed it was very disagreeable to her to remain within hearing; but, as she very justly observed, servants, who strictly do their duty, must submit to many things they dislike. She further stated, that when Lord Moldaw heard Sir William's pro- posals, he became quite ' beside himself/ and called the Baronet, rebel, rascal, and every name but a gentleman, swearing he would soon make him dangle in a halter ; and then concluded his speech by seizing THE REBEL. 265 one of his gout crutches (which happened fortunately to be laying on the bed) and struck Sir William such a violent blow, that he staggered some paces from the bedside ; but the next moment he reco- vered, returned to the charge, and repaid the compliment he had received from her master, by giving him a terrible blow with the butt-end of a riding-whip. — Truth here compels us to state, that Sir William's whip was laying, during the whole affray, in a most quiescent position on the hall-table. Mistress Llangollen's history further stated, that her master, being dreadfully enraged by the blow, in- stantly laid hold of a vessel full of liquid (that by some sad odd chance stood near him) and discharged the whole contents at the astonished Baronet. It appeared poor Sir William was so completely cooled by the ablution, as to lay down his whip and VOL. I. N 266 THE REBEL. have recourse to his tongue. And he told his Lordship, among a variety of other important information, that the day would come, when he intended to spill all the blood of all the Sevilles, even as his Lord- ship had spilt the water upon him ! Mistress Llangollen said, Sir William then made towards the door — and she proceeded to her own room, finding her assistance was not required ; but that in a minute the Baronet passed her with a bounce — he looked in a dreadful rage, and the water dropped from him, on the stone stairs, as if he had been a watering- pot ; and when she saw him go into the drawing-room, she was so possessed with the idea he was going to commence his bloody purpose of spilling the blood of the Sevilles, by cutting her sweet mis- tress's throat, that she stopped at the door, to be in readiness to save Miss Laura's THE REBEL. 267 life, if need required. But Mrs. Llan- gollen observed, she soon found the tables were turned — and there was such billing and cooing- as was quite shocking to her 1 tilicate feelings ! Indeed, she thought she must have dropped on hearing' her young mistress declare, she would be Sir William's wife without further delay ; for she was certain he would agTee with her in thinking it would be best to dis- obey her father, and be married without his consent, as he did not choose to give it. To which Sir William replied, ' he was quite of her opinion — for thai woman always made the best wife, who had proved herself a disobedient daughter!" Mistress Llangollen protested she would have told her master, only she had such a great love for Miss Laura, she really could not find in her heart to bring her into disgrace — particularly as she seemed 268 THE REBEL. so much in love with Sir William ; who, after all, was a very excellent match, being' the richest man in the county; and as for his politics, they were, she observed, * neither here, nor there." When Lysandre had concluded the above interesting, and correct statement, Lord Lewiston told him he had acted very properly in acquainting him with it. u And Lysandre," continued his Lord- ship, si remember I command you to be totally silent on the subject for the fu- ture ; and never give the slightest hint to any one, that you have informed me of it — you understand me — now you may go, and take away my claret-coloured suit with you — it does not become my com- plexion." Lysandre obeyed the latter part of his master's orders, with considerable ala- crity, for the claret-coloured suit had only the rebe:l. 269 been worn three times, and was, there- fore, a perquisite of some value. His Lordship was irritated beyond de- scription, to find Sir William was be- loved by Laura Seville, the very woman who had, but a few days before, treated the Right Honourable Lord Lewiston with the most calm contempt. He had vowed revenge at the time ; and he now thought he saw an opening, through which he might commence his attack. If his Lordship had possessed two grains of sense, he would neither have encouraged the idle tales of his valet, nor have suffered himself to be influenced by the gossiping history of an old house- keeper ; but, although Lord Lewiston possessed a considerable portion of cun- ning, there was not, in his whole com- position, one atom of good sense. When Phillippa retired after dinner, 270 THE REBEL. his Lordship observed, as he closed the door after her, " Upon my soul, Sher- burne, your sister is a charming' creature ! She has such an excellent disposition — such a devilish sweet temper — by gad, I don't know a woman to compare with her. She is so consumedly good-humour- ed !" Sir William slightly cleared his throat, as if he found some difficulty in swallow- ing the noble Lord's observation ; but he made no reply, and his Lordship conti- nued ; " Now I protest, Sherburne, I would much rather be the husband of a fine, tall woman like your sister, than of a little insignificant chit, such as some I could mention; who look, for all the world, as if they had made their escape from the nursery, ha ! ha ! ha ! before the proper time — you understand me — four foot nothing won't suit me, he, he, he!" THE REBEL. 271 The Baronet and Kenard Lutterworth maintained a profound silence, and his Lordship proceeded. " I cannot, by Gad, bring myself to feel any penchant for your tiny women. Now there's Laura Seville, I should be glad to know who would have such a mere handful of a woman ?" " I know, at least, one person/' replied Kenard, " who would have Laura Se- ville; but whom Laura Seville would re- fuse — whom that ' mere handful of a woman* would look upon with scorn/' " Oh, curse it !" exclaimed his Lord- ship, shrugging up his shoulders, a habit he had acquired from Lysandre, " Oh, hang it; egad, I've got into the wrong box ! But, 'pon my soul, Mr. Lutterworth, I beg your pardon — meant no offence ; " Jupiter forbid !" As Shakspeare says — fairly forgot your 272 THE REBEL. kindred, sir — did, by Jove ! No offence I hope, Mr. Lutterworth?" Kenard bowed proudly, and Sir Wil- liam most sincerely wished his Lordship in the wilds of America. " But now, poss, Mr. Lutterworth," continued Lord Lewiston, " you must excuse me, if 1 cannot bring' my poor mind to think your cousin Laura a mass of perfection. I am vastly stupid, I dare say ; but I never could fancy she was even pretty, —much less, beautiful. And then, such man- ners ! By Gad, if she's not a vixen, I'm deceived !" " Then I have the satisfaction to in- form you, my Lord," replied Kenard, his dark complexion colouring with anger as he spoke, u that you are deceived ! But although you have been deceived in Laura Seville, I dare stake my existence she has never been imposed upon by you. And THE REBEL. 273 I think even you, my Lord, mast allow, that she possesses some small portion of penetration ; sufficient, at least, to enable her to distinguish good men from bad, and wise men from fools/' His Lordship's face became livid — and it was some time before his passion would permit him to speak — he at length said, in an affected, drawling tone : " Upon my soul, sir, you remind me of the saying of a certain gentleman, who compared the tongue to a two-edged sword j but as it is, sir, the only weapon you are permitted to wield, we must, on that account, allow you a greater scope. Gentlemen of your cloth, sir," continued his Lordship, crossing his thin legs with infinite importance, " Gentlemen of your cloth, may say a thousand things with impunity, that we would not tolerate, for a moment, from any other profession 5 N 2 274 THE REBEL. but your flowing garments, my very good sir, constitute your protection!" " And your insignificance, ignorance, and folly, constitute yours, my Lord !" replied Kenard, who was no longer mas- ter of his temper ; " Had you the feelings of a gentleman, — had you the under- standing of a school boy, I would endea- vour to point out to you, the meanness, the unworthiness, of insulting a body of men, who are denied by the laws of their coun- try, from demanding the satisfaction due to every man who feels himself grossly insulted. But let me entreat you_, not to exasperate me beyond my bearing — let me entreat you not to give me further provocation ! lest I convince you," he continued, rising from his seat for the purpose of leaving the room, and proudly drawing' up his fine figure to its full height, " lest I convince you, that THE REBEL. 275 although the laws of the land have denied me the use of my sword, the laws of na- ture have furnished me with weapons to supply its place." " Ha! ha! ha! heroics! heroics by Gad! exclaimed his Lordship, but not until Kenard had shut the door, and was out of hearing. " Well upon my soul that Mr. Lutterworth is, as my friend Shakspeare has it ; " Plaguy proud." Ha ! ha ! Egad he fairly mounted the rostrum — faith I should like to know from whence he took his text — confound me if I should not — but dont believe he mentioned either chapter or verse, he ! he! that was a cursed omission." His Lordship at this moment observed a slight expression of contempt pass across Sir William's countenance, upon which he immediately changed his tack, and as- 276 THE REBEL. suming an erect position, and a bom- bastical tone, he exclaimed, " upon my soul, Master Lutterworth, you've mis- taken your man, if yon think I'll bear with your testy humour, sir ! " By the Gods, You shall digest the venom of your spleen, Though it do split you ; for, from this day forth, I'll use you for my mirth, yea for my laughter, When you are waspish." Sir William, not a little amused at his Lordship's sudden change of manner, smilingly replied : " Peace, peace j you durst not so have tempted him" — Kenard Lutterworth is not a man who can be insulted with im- punity — although I believe he dues not approve of duelling; but his courage has been well attested on many occasions ; and I would not advise you to insult him, Lewiston, for his temper is unusually warm; which is indeed his only im- perfection. THE REBEL. 277 " His only imperfection !" repeated his Lordship in his natural voice, u why man, he has a hundred and fifty imperfections, at least, and d — 'me if I don't think he's a devilish bitter enemy : there's some- thing* in the roll of his saucer eyes, that 1 don't much admire — hang' me if I do. And he's a devil of a height ! a vast deal too tall to be elegant — he must be six feet four at least ; now I'm told five feet nine is the most elegant height, the most gen- tlemanly." " The most gentlemanly," repeated Sir William, laughing, " I conclude that is about your own height; but you are mistaken with respect to Ken aid's, he scarcely measures six feet two, though I confess he looks taller ; however, he is, in my opinion, a very fine, elegant looking fellow, and I never saw a man, to my remembrance, so beautifully formed. The exterior is certainly of little importance, 278 THE REBEL. that we all know; but then my friend Kenard unites a heart of sterling- worth, to a most prepossessing appearance." U Egad," said his Lordship, " yon ad- vocate his cause with as much warmth, as he does Laura Seville's; but now the giant's gone, I'll just give you my candid opinion of the charming Miss Laura ; faith, my boy, I know her well ! " You have already favoured me with your opinion, my Lord," said the Baronet with great gravity of manner, " and as our sentiments are in direct opposition, I cannot see the wisdom of renewing* the subject." " Oh hang it, Sherburne!" exclaimed his Lordship, laughing, " oh curse it, my dear fellow! and so you are caught at last, eh? ha! ha! « You, forsooth, in love ! You that have been love's whip ; A very beadle to a humorous sigh : A critic ; nay, a night-watch constable ; A domineering pedant o'er the boy." — THE REBEL. 279 Ha ! ha ! you must pardon me for laugh- ing, Sherburne, but faith, my good fellow, you must not commence your love cam- paign as champion to Laura Seville — no, by Jove, I would sooner let you into a certain little secret^ which is at present snug in my possession. Besides, my good fellow, she has one champion in this man- sion already — and egad I think he's suffi- cient for any woman." " A certain little secret," said Sir William to himself, " what can the rascal mean ? Nothing to the prejudice of Laura Seville, I hope !" " But poss now, if I thought you had any idea of wooing that cunning little gipsy, I would let you take a peep behind the scenes — confuse me if I would not ! Though it will be very unhandsome, very ungallant certainly, to divulge the amours of a fair lady — but yet, Sherburne, I have 2 80 THE REBEL. such a regard for you, that faith I see I must tell you all. So to make short of the story, Laura Seville is, at this mo- ment, enamoured with your humble ser- vant !" " With you, my Lord !" exclaimed Sir William, in a tone of undisguised asto- nishment. " Yes — with me — but is there any thing 1 so wonderful in a demoiselle falling- in love with me? But upon my soul, I'm vastly concerned I can't return the young lady's passion — I thought she was looking devilish ill the day I arrived here." " The day you arrived here, my Lord?" exclaimed the Baronet, whose heart beat quick as he spoke, I understood you had not seen Miss Seville for these last five weeks." Then you have been misinformed, my THE REBEL. 281 dear friend ; I give you my word of honour, I had a private interview with the immaculate Laura, on the very day I arrived here ; upon my soul I had/* " On the very day you arrived here," repeated Sir William, " how could that be? I was at Belting-ham two or three hours before you arrived here, and neither Lord Moldaw nor his daughter had then seen you. I hope you will excuse me for observing, there must be some mistake." " Ha ! ha ! ha ! a mistake — vastly good — he! he! prodigiously facetious — hang me if it is not. And so, Sherburne, you think 'tis not pos-ible to have an interview with the condescending Laura, without the old boy being privy to it, eh ? Is that your opinion, Sherburne ? Ay, ay, I see plainly you know nothing of the tricks and contrivances of womankind. Why, my dear fellow, will you believe it ? They 282 THE REBEL. are too deep even for me ! and you must allow I've a right to understand them, eh ? You'll agree to that, I suppose, won't you ? " But faith, in the whole course of my practice 3 I never met with such a compound of love, jealousy and cunning as Laura Seville. Whatever you may think, I give you my word of honour I had a private interview with her, in a little shady lane leading to the Salisbury road , not an hour before I arrived here on the 31st. If you doubt my word, by Gad, I'll ring and order my servants to be sent to me ; and you can then ask them, if they did not receive my orders to go for- ward to a particular spot, until the con- descending Laura had finished her parley with the unworthy Lawrence Branding. Lysandre and James are both acquainted with Miss Seville's person. Jem, to be sure, does not know her, but I presume THE REBEL. 283 he can answer to the fact of my having been met by a fair Lady, who wooed me to converse with her. Now do favor me, my dear Sherburne, by making the in- quiry, if it be only for my satisfaction. " " I am already perfectly convinced," replied the Baronet, " I do not wish for any conversation with your servants on the subject." " By Jove, I'm glad to hear you say so! You are now fully aware Laura Seville is a forward, cunning little minx, are you not, my dear fellow ?" " By no means, my Lord," replied Sir William, with as much composure as he could assume. "By no means!" repeated his Lord- ship, " Curse me for an ass, if you did not say so this very moment." " I certainly said I was convinced — but not of Miss Seville's unworthiness — 284 THE REBEL. nothing" short of ocular demonstration could produce such an effect." " Of what then are you convinced?" inquired his Lordship, with some quick- ness. " That there exists some mistake ;" said the Baronet, calmly. "By gad, you are completely hood- winked ! Ay, ay, I see how it is, he's laid his lime twigs vastly well — you have been prejudiced against me, I see clearly, by the infernal lies of that cursed villain, Lutterworth." " My Lord !" exclaimed Sir William, in a voice that made the Baron start — but in-tantly remembering his Lordship was his guest, he added (in as calm a tone as he could assume) " I should be extremely sorry to be guilty of a breach of hospitality — but your Lordship must excuse me for declaring, that I will not THE REBEL. 285 allow any man to traduce the character of my friend Kenard Lutterworth with im- punity : no — not even if he were of blood royal!" " Not even Charles Edward Stuart?" inquired his Lordship, in a sneering tone. " No — not even the father of Prince Charles," replied Sir William in a firm voice. "Oh! oh!" ejaculated his Lordship, upon whose mind a sudden light appeared to gleam, whilst with a pondering look (very unusual with him) he continued to swallow bumper after bumper of some excellent claret that stood before him. At length he rose, and said in a most cordial manner : " Come, Sherburne, let's join your sis- ter, and here's my hand, my good fellow; never bear malice, that's my motto — and faith, I like you all the better for defending 286 THE REBEL. your friend 3 but by Jove, 'tis vastly un- lucky I should hate the man you love." Sir William immediately shook his Lord- ship by the hand ; and the subject was never mentioned again in Lord Lewiston's presence. Sir William left his Lordship with Miss Philly, and joined Kenard, who was walking on the lawn. " I hope," said the Baronet with a smile, " you are now perfectly cooled, and that I may conduct you to the draw- ing-room, without any apprehension of a second ignition from your inflammable matter, as Lady Cassandra Harrington would say." " Ay, you may well quiz me ; I am a consummate simpleton, to allow myself to be irritated by that silly fellow. I am ashamed to say, I felt such a prodigious inclination to knock him down, that 1 THE REBEL. 287 thought the only way of saving my cha- racter would be by beating a retreat. I would give any thing to possess your equanimity." u Oh, my equanimity is very much at your service," replied Sir William, smiling, " but I assure you his Lordship nearly upset it, more than once. Did you not tell me, he had not seen Laura for these last five weeks ?" « Yes, I did." iC Lewiston declares he saw her, on the day he arrived here, and he insinuates the meeting was at her request." " Then he insinuates a vile falsehood. I am convinced Laura would go any dis- tance to avoid him." We will not trouble our readers by pro- ceeding with the conversation which passed between the friends ; suffice it to say, that Kenard set off to Beltingham 288 THE REBEL. the next morning, for the purpose of hearing an explanation from Laura — which proved, as may easily be imagined, extremely satisfactory. Laura's word was believed before his Lordship's, of course, and the whole affair was related to the Baronet, to his utmost satisfaction. Had Sir William not been a prudent, considerate man, he would, perhaps, have dashed off to the continent, without in- quiring into the business ; and we might have had the trouble of following his various peregrinations through half a dozen kingdoms, ere he returned to rea- son ; or reflected, that in every case, it is both just and necessary to hear both sides of the question. Before Kenard Lutter- worth took leave of his cousin, he endea- voured to impress her with the impro- priety of concealing any thing from her father, and entreated she would go imme- THE REBEL. 289 diately, and inform him of the offers she had received from Lord Lewiston. Laura followed Kenard's advice ; and her father forgave her error, in consideration of the candour with which she acknowledged it, and of her solemn promise never to be guilty of a like concealment for the future. And Kenard Lutterworth re- frained, at the earnest desire of Sir Wil- liam, from taking any further notice of the subject to Lord Lewiston. After Kenard's return from Belting-ham (and when he had fully satisfied the Ba- ronet's mind respecting Laura's interview with Lord Lewiston) he desired Oliver to send Eustace Arrow smith to the Library, where he intended to hear his little history. " Upon my word," said Kenard, when Eustace made his appearance, " you are wonderfully recruited since yesterday — VOL. I. O 290 THE REBEL. you look all the better for a good night's lodging." " And for your honour's good meat and drink ; for which, may heaven re- ward you !" said Eustace, with a low bow, and addressing Sir William, who had seated himself (with a due regard to shade) in the most obscure part of the library. " We wish to know what brought you into this part of the country," observed Kenard ; " but tell me first, why you evaded my question yesterday, respecting your having been under Hawley's com- mand in 46 ? is there any thing dis- graceful in having fought at the battle of Culloden?" " I don't say there is, your honour ; but it's a battle, somehow, I never like to think of — it's a battle, your honour, I never take into my acount." THE REBEL. 291 " For what reason, Eustace?" " Because we fought against our own kinsfolk, your honour," replied the vete- ran, in a voice of sorrow. " Thou shalt be provided for, my honest fellow," said the Baronet to him- self. " Did any of your relations fight on the Pretender's side?" inquired Kenard, struck by the sorrowful tone in which Eustace spoke. " Yes, your honour, two of my bro- thers;" he paused, and then added — " they were both left dead on the field !" " Thou shalt be provided for to the latest hour of thy existence, Eustace, so help me, Heaven !" vowed the Baronet to himself, and immediately commenced writing a letter. " You never told me this circumstance before," said Kenard, " I wonder you 292 THE REBEL. did not mention it previously to your leaving me at Brampton. " " I didn't know it myself, your honour; I never heard the dreadful news till I arrived at Sunderland, where I met Jack Wilson, and he told me the whole matter. He said, poor Tom, my youngest brother, a fine handsome lad, your honour, as ever you set your eyes on, was not killed out- right on the ]6th, but was so terribly wounded he couldn't stir. And so he laid, without hardly a rag to cover his poor body, and shelter him from the rain, and you know your honour it fell very heavy for some days ; well, as I was saying, he laid among his dead and wounded com- rades till the afternoon of the 18th, when he was dispatched by one of the fellows the Duke sent (God forgive him!) to kill such as had strength to stand out against pain, and thirst, and the cold night air, THE REBEL. 293 and the rain, as I said before. Jack Wilson said the fellow that dispatched my poor brother, didn't know him, till he had given him the fatal blow !" At this part of his story, Eustace passed the sleeve of his old patched coat across his eyes ; then assuming a firmer tone, he continued, u But as our chaplain used to tell us, every thing is for the best — though I sometimes find it no easy matter to think so, your honour." " No doubt it is difficult, sometimes, 1 ' said Kenard, "and I am not surprised now at your leaving the battle of Culloden out of your list. When did you arrive in England ?" *« I was sent home from Madras on ac- count of ill health, your honour, and ar- rived in the Honourable Company's ship, the Phoenix, commanded by Captain Lushington, on the 7th of last month ; 294 THE REBEL. and I made the best of my way, as soon as I landed, to Dorchester, where I knew my wife was living- : but Dinah received me very coldly, and seemed quite a changed body from the tidy good-looking young woman I had left nine years ago. Well, your honour, Dinah instead of at- tending to my little wants, for I was terribly ill when I first came to England, used to set off first thing in the morning, and go, I can't tell where, whilst I was left to shift for myself; and the day be- fore yesterday she decamped with a dra- goon, who had been quartered at Dor- chester for some time with a few of his company. Dinah, to be sure, would have been no great loss, as I had none of her services ; but yet somehow, I felt both enraged and disgraced, when I found she had gone off with another man ! One can't help feeling ashamed, your honour, THE REBEL. 295 in such a case ! And then to make worse of the matter, Dinah was no sooner gone, than the people of the house where we lodged, told me a quarter's rent was due, and they expected to be paid directly ; but when I looked for the leather purse that I kept the small remains of my pay in, I found Dinah had taken it with her : so I was without a farthing in the world. I then gave the few decent clothes I had, in part payment of the quarter's rent, and left Dorchester the same day with a heavy heart! Let a man's wife, your honour, be ever so bad, he would always rather keep her than see her run off with another man. As I hope to go to heaven, I felt more pain when I heard Dinah was gone, than I did two years ago, when a native of Bahar shot me in the breast with a poisoned arrow" " I can believe you," said Kenard, 296 THE REBEL. " it must be a dreadful trial. Are you now going in pursuit of your wife?" "Oh no, your honour!" replied the veteran with a most significant shake of the head ; " Oh no, your honour, the wife that retreats is never worth a pur- suit r " You and I are of the same opinion on that point, I perceive," said Kenard, " but where had you been when we met you in the chase ?" " I had been to Lord Moldaw's upper Lodge, where an old uncle of mine lived when I left England, but I found he had been dead more than three months; and when I begged of your honour yesterday, for the first time in my life, I had not tasted food for eight and thirty hours." " Poor fellow !" said Kenard, " but I will take care you shall not want for the future." THE REBEL. 297 M That care must belong" to me, if you please," observed Sir William — " you have already as many pensioners as you can conveniently provide for ; besides, I had a letter from Ramsey last week, in which he tells me, he has been obliged to dismiss the keeper of the first Lodge for dishonest practices, and I have desired him in this letter," continued Sir Wil- liam, addressing Eustace with uncommon kindness of manner, " I have desired him in this letter, to give you the vacant situation ; and here are £5. for you to be- gin with. You must go in the waggon which passes near this place to-morrow morning, for Salisbury, where I advise you to recruit your knapsack ; not for- getting a new pair of breches," added the Baronet, smiling, " as those you have on are rather too airy, excepting for India, or the dog days." o 2 298 THE REBEL. A smile passed over the veteran's face like a gleam of sunshine on a cloudy day ; and after thanking Sir William and Kenard most warmly for their kindness, he was proceeding to leave the apartment, when the Baronet said : Si I think it will be better to take this letter with you, Eustace, it is to be delivered to my steward, Mr. James Ramsey, and con- tains my orders respecting you. I have desired him to allow you to take up your quarters at Wentbridge Park, until the Lodge is furnished and made comfortable for you." This last piece of kindness and con- sideration, added to the rest, was rather too much for poor Eustace to bear like a soldier ; his heart was quite full, too full for utterance — he took the letter — looked ten thousand thanks — bowed low — and left the room. He had scarcely quitted the library, THE REBEL. 299 when Mr. Harington and Colonel Charles Pleydell were introduced. The latter had not seen Sir William for upwards of two years, having- been on the continent during that period. The Colonel chatted for some time with Kenard Lutterworth, on the subject of Indian and continental warfare, when abruptly changing the dis- course, he said to the Baronet : " I called upon Lord Moldaw yester- day 3 and had, I assure you, a treat of the first order." " Indeed, pray in what did it consist ?" inquired Sir William. " In half an hour's conversation with the lovely Miss Seville; I never saw a woman so much improved as she is within these two years ; her manners too, are so easy, so elegant, so unaffected." " You seem quite enchanted," said the Baronet. 300 THE REBEL. " Oh quite ! quite, I assure you ! and if I had not seen so many campaigns, by George, I would throw myself at her feet." iS So many campaigns," repeated Mr. Harrington, " I suppose you wish to make us believe you are an old steady fellow." " I cannot say much for my steadiness, but I am certainly too old for a blooming young beauty like Miss Seville," replied the Colonel. ei At all events," said Mr. Harrington, " you can make the trial ; remember, faint heart never won fair lady." " Very true — very well remarked Har- rington, and a soldier seldom loses any thing for want of asking; but then Miss Seville is only nineteen, I understand, and T am six and thirty. Oh no ! no ! it will never do, the disparity is too great, THE REBEL. 301 she would only laugh at my presump- tion." " Try her, Charles," said Mr. Harring- ton,, " try her, she may, perhaps, not ob- ject to a gallant soldier, though he be her senior by seventeen years ; try her, man." " You really give me great encourage- ment," said the Colonel, smiling, and lashing his boot with his whip ; " and I think I will hold a council of love when I return home, and discover bv serious de~ liberation, the best mode of commencing the attack." " I highly applaud your resolution," replied Mr. Harrington, with a sly mis- chievous glance at Sir William, of whose proposals he had heard the day before from Lord Moldaw, and whose cause he had advocated most warmly, 'though he could not resist the present opportunity of teazing him a little. 302 THE HEBEL. Before the gentlemen took their leave, Mr. Harrington pressed Sir William's hand, and said in an under voice — keep yourself easy, Sherburne, you have no- thing to fear from the Colonel ; depend upon it, the fair citadel is yours to all in- tents and purposes." When they were gone, Sir William said to Kenard ; " I always thought Harring- ton, rather a sensible fellow, than other- wise,buthe talked like a fool this morning/' "Did he?" said Kenard. " Did he !'• repeated Sir William, " why is it possible you didn't hear him ? And as for Pleydell, I think he has returned from the continent a com- plete coxcomb." Kenard made no repl\', his attention being at that moment attracted by the entrance of Miss T. M. S. B. Wriggleton,, who waddled into the library, and presented her plump hand to THE REBEL. 303 the Baronet : " I greet thee, friend I" said Tisi phone, in a voice the most discordant that ever struck on the ear of man. " I greet thee ; how has it fared with thee, since last I sojourned under thy hospitable roof? I purposed greeting thee on my first arrival, but thou wast engaged in loose converse with a legal butcher, and that wolf in sheep's clothing, Edward Harrington." " The butcher and the wolf are under great obligations to you, Miss Wriggle- ton," replied Sir William with affected gravity, "and now give me leave to in- troduce to your notice my friend, Kenard Lutterworth, who was heretofore, ' a legal butcher, but is now, like Harrington, ' a wolf in sheep's clothing' " Kenard was not much addicted to the smiling mood, but Miss Tisiphone's ap- pearance and address, waged such com- 304 THE REBEL. plete war on his risible muscles, that he was under the necessity of having recourse to his pocket handkerchief, which he passed with great deliberation, and apparent so- lemnity, to and fro the lower part of his face ; whilst Miss Tisi phone (whose height did not exceed four feet seven in- ches) looked up in his countenance, much in the same way as we have occasionally observed a person gazing on the dial plate of a church steeple. " Verily thou art one of the sons of Anak!" said Tisiphone, addressing Ke- nard, " I like not thy stature; nor do I like that low bow with which thou greeted me, — it had in it, too much of profundity, and savoured too much of those French idolaters, in whose land I understand thou hast sojourned for some years past. — Thong! 1 , upon the whole, 1 think thy per- son is goodly, — yea, and thy countenance THE REBEL. 305 is well favoured j but I love not to see a man smile, it savoureth too much of the vanity and folly of this world of darkness ! Thou must not be surprised at my accost- ing* thee thus plainly — thy friend, there, will tell thee it is my way. I have been instructed from my youth upward, always to give utterance to the truth; and thou must therefore, not take amiss aught I have said unto thee. Thy outward man is truly passing good ! though verily it paineth my neck to look up to thee. — Dost thou never sit ?" " Occasionally,'" said Kenard, with all the gravity he could muster. " Then I wish thou wouldst seat thy- self; for 1 should like much to have a little converse with thee, on subjects fitting thy profession. I, myself, though all hu- mility, am proud, yea I glory in telling- thee I am one of the few called ; and 306 THE REBEL. much should I like to discover if thou art among the number of the joyous ones." At this moment Miss Tisiphone was in- deed called. " Wriggy, dear," said Philly, popping her head into the library, " Wriggy, my love, come and walk with me, will you?" " Thou toldest me, but a minute ago," replied Tisiphone, " that thou wast going into the chace with Lord Lewiston. Why hast thou changed thy mind ?" " Because his Lordship is busily en- gaged in writing letters; therefore, do come, Wriggy dear — we have no time to lose — it is nearly three o'clock." Tisiphone accompanied her friend, but it was with evident reluctance ; and when she arrived at the library door, she could not refrain from casting ' a longing, lingering look' on Kenard Lutterworth, with whose fine person she was prodigiously smitten. THE REBEL. 307 " Love at first sight, I protest!" ex- claimed Sir William, laughing* violently, as the door closed : " And strange as it may appear, I have, in some degree, been the cause of the partiality she feels for you. When you were on the continent, I related many of your good, and some of your gallant actions ; among the former, the story of — " " You have a good memory, it must be allowed," said Kenard, interrupting Sir William, and laughing heartily as he spoke, " those are my own words — used, to be sure, on a very different occasion. But seriously speaking, don't you think the woman must be mad ?" " Seriously speaking," replied Sir William, iC I do not. I think she has, at this moment, as much sense as she ever possessed. To give you my opinion of 308 THE REBEL. her, she is a compound of hypocrisy, pride, vanity, folly, and conceit!" " Seing is believing, certainly," said Kenard, " had 1 not seen Miss Wriggle- ton, I could not have believed there was such a creature in existence. If I had met with a description of such a woman in a book, I should have exclaimed, * Tush ! this character is overdrawn — out of all keeping — out of all nature ;' but as I said before, seeing is believing." TKE KEBEL. 309 CHAPTER IX. Dreams descend from Jove. Pope. Oh, then, I see queen Mab hath been with you. She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate stone On the fore-linger of an alderman. Romeo. Peace, peace Mercutio, peace ; Thou talk'st of nothing. Mer. True, I talk of dreams ; Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy, Which is as thin of substance as the air. Shakspeari The clay before Lord Lewiston left Wea- therall, Sir William proposed they should take another day's sport ; but his Lord- ship declined, under pretence of having several letters to write* 310 THE REBEL. " You have become quite ascribe within these few days, Lewiston. There's no such thing as getting" you into the field; though in former times the difficulty was in keeping you out of it. Do you re- member the scrapes you were engaged in at Oxford ?" " Oh, hang it, yes — how the devil should I forget them ? but my letters must be written — that's poss." " Do you feel disposed for a few hours shooting, Kenard ?" inquired Sir Wil- liam. " Quite the contrary. I would rather take a ride in the chace, if you have no objection — the morning is most beautiful." The horses were accordingly ordered ; and the friends gladly left Lord Lewiston to write his letters, and Philly and Tisi- phone to enjoy sweet converse together. Sir William and Kenard had not pro- THE REBEL. 31] ceeded above a mile, before the latter ob- served, "You are unusually silent and grave this morning — has any thing oc- curred to vex you?" " I am extremely foolish," replied Sir William, " so foolish, that I am almost ashamed to let even you know the full extent of my weakness.' ' " I believe I am pretty well acquaint- ed with all your weak points; at all events, I am happy to find you are sensi- ble of your weakness, and I doubt not you will endeavour to conquer it — let it be what it may." " You will scarcely believe, Kenard, that I have allowed a horrible dream, I had last night, to affect my spirits — ." " Impossible ! the thing is incredible !" " 'Tis true, nevertheless — and so dread- ful were my mental sufferings during my 312 THE REBEL. sleep, that I would sooner die this mo- ment, than go through the same scenes in reality. I think you will credit this assertion, when I tell you, that you were one of the principal actors—and that I saw you drop dead at my feet, by a blow from a dagger, which you received in de- fending me from the attack of two fel- lows, who had rushed upon me unawares. The man who struck you was Lewiston ; but the other fellow's face was concealed by black crape — though his figure and manner reminded me of Oliver. u Gra- cious powers !" exclaimed Sir William, covering his eyes for a moment with his hand, " never shall I forget the unuttera- ble agony of my feelings, when I saw you stretched dead at my feet!" " I had no idea, Sherburne, you were so superstitious; you cannot surely be so THE REBEL. 313 silly as to place any confidence in dreams ? — It is not possible you can believe in them." " I do not believe in them," said the Baronet, firmly, " but yet, it will be many hours ere I can drive from my mind the horrid impressions it received last night. I have not told you one-half of the cir- cumstances ; but I conclude you have no wish to hear the remainder." " Certainly not ; and, therefore, if you please, we will change the subject to one infinitely more agreeable, viz. Laura Se- ville. I had a note from my mother this morning, and she is disposed to think you will receive a visit from my uncle as soon as he recovers from his present attack. She says, Laura is now in most excellent spirits ; and that my uncle appears to caress her, if possible, with more than his ordinary fondness. But there's the note, VOL. I. P 314 THE REBEL. read it yourself." — When Sir William had read it, lie returned it to Kenard, and observed, " I should like exceed- ingly to ride towards Belting-ham this morning — and the shady lane at the back of the plantation will afford us an agree- able shelter from the sun — it is uncom- monly hot ; besides, it is probable we may catch a glimpse of Laura — I have heard you say the plantation is one of her fa- vourite walks." Kenard agreed to his friend's proposal ; but ere they had advanced two hundred yards up the lane, a woman suddenly darted over the low enclosure, that se- parated the plantation from the road ; and (seizing the bridle of Sir William's horse) exclaimed, in an authoritative voice, " Sir William Sherburne, I com- mand you to stop, and listen to my coun- sel for one moment." THE REBEL. 315 The woman (who thus unceremo- niously addressed Sir William) appeared about twenty -five years of age, and rather above the middle height. She had one of the finest gipsy countenances we ever beheld, with an uncommon profusion of raven locks, that hung in long, graceful, and natural curls over her shoulders. S.he wore an old black bonnet, ornamented round the front with a broad piece of black lace, that cast a deep shade over a naturally dark countenance. Her eyes were large, full, and black as jet, and possessed all that fire and penetration, so peculiar to the gipsy tribe. Her form was slight, and a quilted, patched brown stuff petticoat, was well calculated (in point of shortness) to display a small finely turned ancle. A grey linsey woolsey sort of bed-gown, was fastened round her slender waist with a piece of 316 THE REBEL. old green ribbon — whilst a faded red cloak was loosely tied round her sun-burnt throat. She possessed a natural air of graceful dignity, that would not have dis- graced even a throne. Indeed, so highly had her various qualifications been esti- mated by her tribe, that they had elected her their queen in the twenty -second year of her age. Sir William started when he observed the person, whose appearance we have described, and exclaimed, " Mercy on me ! what, my old friend Helen Manley ! How came you in this part of the coun- try ?" " Heed not that," replied Helen, in the same commanding tone in which she had first spoken, " heed not that ; but listen to what I am about to tell you. — Your life depends on your acting accord- ing to my orders. You too may attend THE REBEL. 317 to what 1 am going" to say,'' continued Helen, addressing Kenard Lutterworth, " for I know you to be as true to your friend, as the sun to its course." " What means this long preamble, my good Helen ?" inquired Sir William, " Do you want to make us believe you can peep into future events." " Believe, or not believe, 'tis just as you will ; but if you follow not my coun- sel you will be hung up like a dog, and your bones bleaching in the wind, before another November's sun rises on yonder hill ! — You may scorn me if you like — but I'll have my say, whether you will or no — and then, if you follow not my counsel, your blood be on your own head, not on mine. Remember, Sir William," continued Helen in a solemn, impressive voice, raising at the same time her bare, 318 THE REBEL. brown arm in the air, " remember, I am a daughter of Prophecy! the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter ; and so sure as there is a God in Heaven, so sure will every prophecy I utter be fulfilled!" " My good woman," said Kenard Lutterworth, " you surely don't expect to make us believe, that the God of all wis- dom has entrusted a poor, weak mortal like you, with the knowledge of future events ?" " I care not what you believe," replied Helen, in a haughty tone, " but as you hope for peace in this world, and for hap- piness in the next, do not tempt your friend to turn a deaf ear to my warning voice ; if you do — 'twill bring upon you many a bitter hour of repentance." " Well, Helen, let us hear your ' warn- ing voice,' " said the Baronet, smiling, THE REBEL. 319 " for it would undoubtedly be a crime to turn from a prophetess of your dignity and importance.' ' " There's but one man on the face of the earth who dares to taunt me," said Helen, whilst a shade of anger passed over her expressive features, " and that man is Sir William Sherburne ; but, let me tell him, even he may go too far; — though, for his mother's sake, I would bear more from him than from any other mortal breathing." " You are a most grateful creature," replied Sir William, " no person who knows you, Helen, will deny that. Now go on — I am all attention." " Lord Lewiston leaves Weatherall to- morrow, and — " " How do you know that, Helen?" inquired Sir William, interrupting her. " Put no questions to me," replied the 320 THE REBEL. gipsy queen, ",but attend to what I choose to tell you. The day after Lord Lewiston leaves Weatherall, your servant Oliver will ask to go to Salisbury for three or four days ; but instead of grant- ing his request, secure him immediately, and keep him a close prisoner in your own house, till you hear either from George the Second, or from me. But be sure to trust no man to watch Oliver, ex- cepting Arthur Aberford and James Fletcher and let them watch him by turns." " And poor Oliver is to be detained a close prisoner, till I hear from George the Second, or from the queen of the gipsies. Well, I must say, Oliver is very little obliged to your majesty. But you forgot, Helen, I have no right to imprison Oliver; for at present I neither suspect him of having committed a crime, nor of being THE REBEL. 321 likely to commit one — he is a very orderly, well-behaved servant." " According to the laws of the land, you certainly have no right to imprison Oliver," replied Helen, " but let might overcome right — it will not be the Jirst time, as yon well know." " If 1 follow your advice and imprison the poor fellow," said the Baronet, " what is to be done with him when I hear from your majesties ?" " You may put that question to the friends that will then surround you, said Helen, with a slight curl of her lip, " but the day may come, and something tells me it will, when you would give your best estate to be as free as you are at this moment, — then, and perhaps not till then, you will be sorry for having treated Helen Stanley with scorn !" " Far be it from me to treat so kind a P 2 322 THE REBEL. friend as you, Helen, with scorn ; — but why should you object to the title of ma- jesty ? Were you not elected queen of your tribe ?" " Yes," replied the gipsy queen, proudly drawing" up her head, " and 1 have perhaps more right to the title of majesty, than one, whose name I could mention. I have been chosen by my people!" " Oh fie, Helen !" said Sir William, with a smile, " I am afraid your princi- ples are as bad as ever. But when you talk treason, you ought to remember that hedges have ears sometimes,, as well as walls; therefore, pray don't speak so loud." " I care not who hears me" replied Helen, " 'tis my rule to speak the truth at all times. And now, Sir William, farewell, — and may the Great Power THE REBEL. 323 above, lead you to follow my counsel !" So saying, Helen bowed her head grace- fully to Sir William, and instantly disap- peared, by again springing* lightly over the low enclosure, into the Beltingham plantation. " Poor Helen !" said the Baronet, " she would probably have continued a respec- table member of society, had my mother lived ; but after her death, she had no longer any motive for resisting her in- herent love of wandering, which had been kept in subjection by her strong attach- ment to her bene fact r ess. 7 ' " The good education she received from Lady Sarah* appears to have been com- pletely thrown away," observed Kenard. * Lady Sarah Sherburne took Helen when she was only three years old — and had her educated under her own eye. Lady Sarah died when Helen was in her nineteenth year, and left her a legacy of five thousand pounds : but Helen imme- diately quitted Wentbridge ; nor could Sir William ever pre- vail upon her to accept one sous of his mother's bequest. 324 THE REBEL. « I do not think so," replied Sir Wil- liam, " Helen is strictly virtuous, and exerts herself to the utmost, to reform the habits of her wandering subjects. By the bye, her sudden appearance startled me a little ; , for it agreed, most singu- larly, with the early part of the very re- markable dream I had last night; and you may laugh at me if you will, but I am more than half inclined to follow her advice." " I feel no inclination to laugh, I pro- mise you; on the contrary, I am con- cerned to find you are so weak, as to place confidence in the silly prediction of a vagrant gipsy." " You don't understand me, Kenard. I am as firmly convinced as you can be, that Helen is not gifted with the power of looking into futurity ; but 1 think it very probable, she may have received her THE REBEL. 325 information respecting* Lord Lewiston's departure, and Oliver's intended move- ments, from James Fletcher, my head groom, who is a shrewd, active fellow." " No person but you, would keep a gipsy-groom," said Kenard : " who ever heard of such a thing?" " Tush man, he's only half-blood, and is one of the best grooms that ever curried a four years old; besides, the poor fellow is strongly attached to me, and to speak the truth, I would sooner part with my whole stud, than turn poor James adrift. But what would you advise me to do respecting Oliver? I mean to be solely guided by your opinion." " If you follow my advice, you will not take any step in consequence of Helen's information, but act exactly as though you had not heard it : 'tis certainly diffi- cult to advise in such cases. I think with 326 THE REBEL. Blaise Pascal ; " L'homme est assurement tropinfirme pour pouvoir juger sainement de la suite des choses futures ; esperons done en Dieu, et ne nous fatiguons pas par des prevoyances indiscretes et teme- raires." I can give you no better advice." THE REBEL. 327 CHAPTER X. Intrust thy fortune to the powers above ; Leave them to manage for thee, and to grant What their unerring wisdom sees thee want. Dry den. Love, in fear, forgetteth the fear of nature. Sir Philip Sydney. The day after Lord Lewiston's departure, Oliver asked Sir William's permission to go to Salisbury for three or four days ; and he allowed him to depart, though much against his own inclination — being- convinced, Helen Stanley had some good reason for having advised his detention. Oliver had scarcely turned out of the Weatherall gates, when the following 328 THE REBEL. note was delivered to the Baronet, by James Fletcher. " Yon have set at nought the counsel of one, who travelled night and day to serve you. You have set at nought the counsel of one, that would lay down her life, to preserve yours ! 1 scorn to say more than I feel \ but I scruple not to declare, that the life of the Lord of Wentbrid^e, is dearer to me, ay, a thou- sand times dearer than my own ! Not, indeed, for his own sake, but for that of his now blessed mother, and my adored friend and benefactress. Then listen, Sir William, to my last advice, and ere the sun sets, disguise yourself — leave Weatherall, and proceed to the sea-coast, where you must immediately embark for Boulogne ; and remain there in strict concealment, for twelve months. On my THE REBEL. 329 knees, and in the name of the most high God, I implore you not to slight this, my last counsel. " H. S." " There is yet time to pursue the villain if you will — he is still in the Chace, and on foot — you will see me once more — and only once. " H. S." Sir William asked James how he came by the Note — but the poor fellow stood in such profound and superstitions awe of Helen Stanley (from whom he had re- ceived his directions) that he declared he was bound to silence by oath, but he was sure Sir William would do right in fol- lowing Helen's advice, who had more ways than one of knowing what was to happen : " And so your honour I'se sad- dle t'ould mare in a jiffy, and ourtak t'ould rascal in a twinkling. I'se clean sartin t'queen's never wrang in ought she .330 THE REBEL. says, so l'se bound t'id ould mare your Honour, — she hes a canny bit o'blude in her yet — and we'se ourtak t' rogue Tse warrant." Honest James was departing* in great glee, with the laudable intention of sad- dling " t'ould mare," when his master ordered him, on pain of his severe dis- pleasure, to keep himself quiet and attend to his own business. Poor James then left the library, with a downcast, cala- mitous visage — and Sir William sent im- mediately for Kenard Lutterworth, and shewed him Helen's note. When Ke- nard had read the contents, he observed ; "This is the most ridiculous billet- doux I ever saw in my life — the idea of your setting off to Boulogne, and re- maining there twelve months, is quite laughable. The woman must surelv be mad, to advise such a wild goose scheme." THE REBEL. 331 " I am of a very different opinion," replied Sir William, " but as I promised to be guided by your superior judgment, I will be as good as my word — though, from my knowledge of Helen's character, I cannot help thinking the wisest plan would be to follow her advice, and send in pursuit of Oliver immediately" " Ten years ago, you were weak enough to put your trust in Princes," observed Kenard, " and you are now carrying your folly a degree further, by wishing to put your trust in Gipsies! your superstition really astonishes me; — it is something so foreign to your character — let me entreat you, my dear Sherburne, to shake off a weakness that is disgraceful — to commit your ways unto God, to put your hrm trust in Him — to believe in his power to deliver you from every evil that may 332 THE REBEL. threaten you, and then, believe me, all will be well/' The Baronet was prevented from re- plying-, by the sudden entrance of the fair Tisiphone, who, regarding Kenard with a look of love, exclaimed — " Ah ! then I have found thee at last ; verily I have been searching for thee high and low — where hast thou concealed thy- self all the morning ? I have a great wish to exhort thee ; and to give thee a little wholesome advice, touching thy future conduct to thy flock." The Baronet smiled, and Kenard most devoutly wished the lovely Wriggy on the plains of Jordan. " I have heard what thou thinkest of me from thy friend Sherburne," continued Tisiphone, " and much I marvel thou didst not tell me of thy regard thyself — THE REBEL. 333 but peradventure thou wast ashamed — I am thy elder by a few years, 'tis true, but heed not that. Thou hast not a higher opinion of my qualifications, both of mind and body, than I have of thine ; and let that suffice to drive away thy shamefacedness." Kenard was dumb-struck — the Baronet assumed a face of uncommon gravity, and Tisiphone proceeded in her address : " Thy friend there, told me this morning- before breakfast, that thou thinkest my qualifi- cations passing wonderful, both of mind and person ; and that the impression they have made upon thee, surpasseth descrip- tion. Didst thou, or didst thou not say thus much of my good properties ?" " I certainly made some such obser- vation last night," replied Kenard, a little disconcerted. " But why didst thou make it to thy 334 THE REBEL. friend ? Why not to me, my joy ? How- ever, I pardon thee — and so now seat thyself, and I will begin my pleasing task of exhorting thee. My views upon thee are verily of a spiritual, not of a carnal nature. Now let me beseech thee once more to seat thyself, and be not coy over- much." Sir William, thinking Kenard had been sufficiently tormented, said to Tisi- phone, " I am afraid^ ma'am, I must be under the necessity of requesting' you will defer your exhortation till to-morrow ; my friend and I have some papers of im- portance to examine before dinner." Sir William had taught Miss Wriggleton to consider his word as a law, and in con- sequence, she left the library immediately ; and Kenard lost no time, as may be easily imagined, in giving the Baronet a lecture for the foolish joke he had played him. THE REBEL. 335 Whilst thus employed, the Postman ar- rived, and among the number of letters addressed to Sir William, there was one, the contents of which we will transcribe ; it was from Lord Carlington, and was as follows : MY DEAR SHERBURNE, As I know you are one of those hard-hearted fellows, who defy Cupid's darts, and make merry with his vagaries ; I cannot but fear the contents of this epistle will afford you infinite food for entertainment. Without further pre- amble, I will inform you, that for these last two years I have been a most ardent admirer of your fair ward, Emma Thorn- ton. You may remember she was a great pet of mine when she used formerly to spend her vacations with us at Selby. On the death of Mrs. La Mott, you are aware 336 THE REBEL. that both Mary and I entreated Emma to consider our house as her future home ; but, for some reason or other, she gave the preference to your invitation ; and if Miss Sherburne had treated her kindly, it is more than probable I should for ever have remained in ignorance of a circum- stance, that renders me at this moment, one of the happiest fellows in existence. Yes, Sherburne, you may laugh, but there is not, I should imagine, a more ecstatic moment in a man's life, than that, in which he discovers he is beloved, by a virtuous, modest, and beautiful woman. But this must be all Sanscrit to you — I know you cannot enter into my feelings, but you must, nevertheless, submit to hear the whole affair — for although you are only Emma's self-constituted guardian, (if I may be allowed the expression) yet 1 think, from the uncommon kindness THE REBEL. 337 you have always shewn her, you are entitled to be consulted in every arrange- ment that concerns her. Yesterday morning' Emma received a kind letter from Miss Seville, containing a very pressing request that she would return with * Algernon Stanhope (who is with us at present) to Beltingham, and spend a few weeks there ; and Emma has accepted of the invitation, and intends to set off to-morrow morning, much against our wishes, 1 can assure you ; but when the gipsy has once made up her mind on any point, she is as firm as a rock. When the invitation first arrived, Emma said she did not intend to accept of it — but an event occurred yesterday that has (as I suspect) been the cause of her change of * The Reverend Algernon Stanhope was a distant relation, and also domestic Chaplain, to Lord Moldaw. — Editur. vol. i. a 338 THE REBEL. mind. Now, my worthy sir, you shall hear " the circumstance" to which I have alluded. In the first place, I beg leave to state, that two years ago I felt a degree of anxiety concerning Emma Thornton, that convinced me I must be on my guard against the attacks of that all-conquering urchin, whose darts have committed such havoc on numerous heroes, both of ancient and modern times ; and it will be a mi- racle if you don't receive a sly shot one of these days, impenetrable as you think yourself — but a truce to digressions. Well sir, I exerted myself to the utmost to drive Emma's image from my heart — and in some measure succeeded, being aided in my endeavors by absence, that grand love-cooler. But last year, my sister gave Emma an invitation to spend a few weeks at Selby ; when behold, all my sapient resolutions took wing, the moment I saw THE REBEL. 339 her, and pressed my accustomed salute of welcome upon her fair cheek. To my credit be it spoken, I struggled hard with my feelings, and determined, if pos- sible, to conquer my love — being well aware there was something extremely ridi- culous, in a man of thirty- five having the presumption to imagine he could ever be an object of love to a beautiful girl of seventeen. During the seven weeks Emma remained with us, 1 narrowly watched her looks and actions ; but from the open, easy, indifferent, natural manner in which she treated me, 1 saw clearly she felt not that warm, undivided kind of regard, which I must be thoroughly convinced a woman feels for me, before I should think of making her an offer of my hand. When Emma returned to Salisbury, I determined to avoid every opportunity of seeing her — and I kept my resolution, 340 THE REBEL. ill I heard of Mrs. La Mott's death. I then joined Mary in requesting Emma to take up her future abode with us. She refused our offer, as you are aware, and so much was my jealousy stirred up by the preference she so decidedly shewed to you on the occasion, that I determined to think of her no more, — but my determi- nation was a vain one — Emma had made a lodgment in my heart, and to dislodge her promised to be a work of great diffi- culty, if not of utter impossibility. On returning from my ride, on the 31st of last month, (about three o'clock in the afternoon) I was informed by Dalby, that Miss Thornton was in the drawing- room —you will laugh, Sherburne, but my heart fairly leaped when I found she was so near me. I instantly threw down my hat and whip, and flew to welcome the sweet girl — this I did, according to THE REBEL. 341 my old custom, by greeting" her with a friendly kiss on the cheek. But I fancy > there had been too much of rapture in my manner, for Emma did not receive my salute with her wonted indifference — she looked confused, and blushed most charm- ingly: — " Bless me, Harry!" exclaimed my sister, " you are quite in raptures — I never saw you so overjoyed in my life." " No" — I replied, " because I never 7vas so overjoyed as I am at this moment. 3 ' Emma blushed two shades deeper — by Juno she did ! and looked exactly as if some new, but not unpleasant light had flashed upon her mind. My transports were not, however, of long duration — for Emma's manner towards me soon under- went a total change ; she no longer treated me in her former open, easy manner — seldom addressing me, but when she could not avoid it, and then in such a 342 THE REBEL. cold, formal, respectful style, with so many fi my Lords, 3 ' that I was sick of the sound of my own title. Yesterday morning, she brought me a letter to frank for you — but as she had written to you only the day before, I could not refrain from observing, " you keep up a very brisk correspondence with Sir William, Emma ; but I shrewdly suspect if your guardian was an old fellow like me, you would not feel quite so much pleasure in writing to him." I ventured to look in her face to see how my ill-natured remark operated. Oh, Sherburne! you should have seen her — such blushes — such pain- ful confusion I never saw in my life ; she appeared completely conscience struck, and in compassion to her feelings I for- bore any further observation — and gave her the frank with a sigh, but without uttering a syllable. THE REBEL. 343 About an hour after the frank scene, my sister sent Algernon Stanhope to re- quest I would accompany them on a ram- ble by the banks of t^e Frome. I obeyed orders, but was surprised and disappoint- ed to find Emma declined being of the party — assigning a bad head-ache as the cause of her refusal. I entreated her to accompany us, thinking a walk might do her good, but she persisted in refusing me : — at length I left the room, and re- turned in a minute with her bonnet and shawl. " If you refuse now. Miss Thorn- ton,' ' said Stanhope, " I shall think you the most hard-hearted damsel I ever en- countered." He then playfully placed the bonnet over her beautiful raven tresses, and I ventured to put the shawl round her shoulders — she then suffered me to draw her arm through mine, and off we set. Stanhope, in the mean time, 344 THE REBEL. took care of my sister, (to whom, by the bye, he appears most devotedly attached). We went down the lawn, and strolled along the side of the Frome, which runs, you know, through our grounds. We had not walked far, when Emma pointed out a beautiful, full blown campanula (I think she called it) that was growing wild on one of the islands. She praised the beauty of the flower so much, that I thought she would like to possess it; and as at that moment we were within a few yards of the boats, I stepped forward, and unchained the smallest (which you may remember you used to call ' the cockle shell'). I pushed it off — and springing into it, rowed away towards the island, at a famous rate, But I had not proceeded half way on my voyage, when I observed the cockle-shell had sprung a leak, as the sailors say ; thinking, however, that I THE REBEL. 315 should have time to execute my purpose before there was any danger, I proceed- ed ; and having gained my prize, I leaped again into the boat and rowed for life and death towards the shore. But the water increased so rapidly, that I saw clearly the cockle-shell would go to the bottom before I gained land ; so throwing off my coat and waistcoat (you need not be told I am an excellent swimmer) I plunged into the river; at the same moment, Emma, who it seems had been watching me, uttered a dreadful scream, and with- out apparently knowing what she was doing, sprung from the bank into the river, when Stanhope dashed in after her, and seizing her by the arm, dragged her out ; which he had no sooner done, than she fell without sense or motion upon the grass. In a few minutes I was at her side; and taking her in my arms, I car- et 2 346 THE REBEL. ried her towards the house, from which we were fortunately no great distance. Stanhope wished to assist rne in bearing my precious burthen — but I rejected his offers. Having laid the dear girl on her bed, I was obliged to leave her, as Mary said her wet clothes could not be re- moved whilst I was in the room \ and, to speak the truth, I was not in a condition to be of much use, — for, as my sister ob- served, I behaved more like a madman than any thing else. I went to change my clothes, and returned in a few minutes to Emma's bed-room door, but Mary re- fused to admit me; declaring that my presence would only make matters worse — for although they had succeeded in re- storing Emma to animation, she was by no means in her perfect senses, but raved incessantly about her " dear Lord Car- ling ton /" When I heard her call upon my THE REBEL. 347 name in such a voice of agony, as had never before struck my ears, I became quite outrageous, and threatened to break open the door immediately, if they did not unlock it. Upon which, my sister ad- mitted me, and as I entered, I heard Emma exclaim, " I saw him sink ! — and I know he's drowned ! but I will go and search for him, and no person on earth shall prevent me." At the same moment she started up, and prepared to leave her bed. Nor did my presence produce any effect upon her, until I took her hand within mine, and said, " My own — my beloved Emma! I am here — and never will leave you again, till you command me." The sound of my voice produced the desired effect— she fixed her eyes upon me, and then rubbed them like a person awaking from a deep sleep; she looked at me again with fixed attention. I saw 348 THE REBEL. immediately her recollection was return- ing,^ — and throwing- my left arm round her waist, I pressed her with ardour to my throbbing heart. But at that mo- ment I could not have spoken, if I might have had the universe. In a few minutes, Emma was completely restored to her senses ; but that was no sooner the case, than she started from my embrace, as though I had been a viper — threw herself back on the pillow — snatched up the bed- clothes, and hastily covering her lovely form, she exclaimed, in a voice of anger, " My Lord, this is past all endurance! Lady Mary, I entreat you will command your brother to leave the room imme- diately." Mary accordingly ordered me off, and I was dutiful enough to obey. Emma did not appear at dinner, and she also refused to join us in the evening. — " You have offended Emma past all for- THE REBEL. 349 giveness," said Mary to me, as we were taking our coffee, ic she declares she will go to Belting-ham with Algernon, and re- main there till she has arranged her fu- ture plans." " Pray," said I, " what is your opinion of the matter, Mary ? Do you think, in spite of Emma's agitation for my safety, that I am indifferent to her ?" My sister smiled, and replied, " I don't chuse to give my decided opinion. Emma has certainly conducted herself to- wards you lately, in a cold, formal man- ner, very unusual with her; and the letter she sent to Sir William Sherburne this morning, contained a request that he would endeavour, as soon as possible, to procure her accommodation in the family of a married clergyman. I pressed her, as you may suppose, to continue with us ; but she had made up her mind on the 350 THE REBEL. subject, and all my entreaties were of no avail.' ' — " What is your opinion of the affair, Stanhope?" said I. " That your life is a thousand times dearer to Emma Thornton than her own," he gravely re- plied. " I doubt that/' observed my sis- ter; " Emma says her fainting arose merely from bodily weakness, and an im- pression that if you were drowned, your death would be laid to her account ; other- wise, she declares she should have felt quite as much for Algernon Stanhope, or any other person." Stanhope shook his head very sagaciously. " Is Emma still in bed?" I inquired. — "No," replied Mary, u but she intends to remain up stairs ; and has requested me to send her a cup of coffee to my dressing-room. I really don't think she means to give you another opportunity of calling her your *: own beloved Emma' I must say, THE REBEL. 351 Harry, you conducted yourself in a very unguarded manner, to say the least of it." At that moment, I took up a cup of coffee, and prepared to leave the room. " Where are you going ?" said my sister ; " not to Emma, I hope." u Indeed but I am," I replied. " That's right," said Stan- hope, laughing', " Emma loves dearly to be waited upon by you, whatever she may say to the contrary." I must refer you to my second frank for the conclusion of my long and (as it will undoubtedly ap- pear to you) ridiculous story. " Away I went, and tapped gently at Mary's dressing-room door. When I en- tered, Emma was seated at a little table, her head resting upon her right hand, and an open book in her left. Her face was pale as death ; but the moment she saw me, she started from her seat— a deep 352 THE REBEL. blush overspread her beautiful counte- nance, and darting on me a look of anger, she exclaimed, e{ You will pardon me for observing, my Lord, that your present conduct amounts to absolute obtrusive- ness — and the only favour you can now confer on me, will be to leave this room immediately/' I confess I felt exceed- ingly hurt — I am not certain but the tears started in my eyes, as I replied, in a voice of emotion : " I think, Emma, more kind- ness and consideration might have been shewn by you, to the man who has known you almost from your infancy — to the man, who has a thousand times caressed you, when you were a child — and who has, to the best of his ability, and as far as you would permit him, acted the part of an affectionate brother towards you. — Your manner has, for some time, been totally changed — and it is but too evident THE REBEL. 353 that you hate me. I will, therefore, leave you, Emma — leave you for ever ! but ere I go, allow me to observe, that gratitude and gentleness, would not have been un- becoming* from you, towards the man who has so long and so ardently loved you ! — Your preference for Sir William Sherburne is, undoubtedly, very natural ; and I will — " I was here cut short in my oration, by observing Emma turn pale as death, whilst I fancied I espied some humid drops standing in her lovely eyes. I paused, irresolute whether to proceed or not, when the dear girl said, in a voice almost inaudible from deep feeling, " I am far from well, my Lord, and you will oblige me, more than I can describe, by leaving me to myself." Her averted eye, and change of manner, reassured me, and clasping her in my arms, I exclaimed, " Never ! never will I leave you my own, 354 THE REBEL. my dearest Emma, till you have declared there is not a possibility of my ever ren- dering- myself dear to you!" She turned her face from me, and struggled to be free — but she did not speak : and, in truth, I believe she could not have uttered a word at that moment, had even her life depended upon it. I now saw clearly how matters really stood ; and following- up my good fortune, I immediately made her an offer of myself and all my worldly goods. She did not reply, further than by turning her face to me with such a look of unutterable happiness and love, shaded, at the same time, by an expression of such modesty and confusion, as would have defied the powers of the greatest painter of antiquity. I gazed at her with rapture inexpressible, for a moment — then pressed my lips with ardour upon her blushing cheek, and thanked Heaven for having THE KEBEL. 355 rendered me the happiest of mankind. You will, perhaps, tell me that I have acted like a fool ; and that a wise man would have conducted himself very dif- ferently. But stop, my doughty defier of love's darts, and remember it has been asked by Sir Philip Sydney — " What doth better become wisdom, than to dis- cern what is worthy the loving ? What more agreeable to goodness, than to love it so discerned ? And what to greatness of heart, than to be constant in that it once loved ?" Knowing you to be a great admirer of the gallant Sydney, I hope my quotation will act as a damper to your impertinence, and that you will not bore me with any of your sapient reflections on the miseries of matrimony ; but will please to recollect the noble Sydney's ob- servation on connubial happiness, and hereafter hold your peace. The remark, 356 THE REBEL. to which I allude, has very possibly es- caped your recollection. I know you are not celebrated for remembering any thing that favours the holy state of wedlock. You are heartily tired by this time, I doubt not, and are probably wishing me safely lodged at the bottom of the Frome ; but although, in my mind's eye, I see you yawning, I am, nevertheless, determined on finishing my story. Kenard Lutter- worth is possibly at your side : if so, give him the remainder to read aloud — the sound of his musical voice cannot fail of keeping you awake. To proceed. After I had pressed Emma to my heart, and assured her of the constancy of my affec- tion, I seated myself; and placing her by my side, I related all I had suffered on her account. In fact, we entered into numerous mutual explanations, that would be extremely dull and tiresome to a person THE REBEL. 357 of your constitution; and I will, therefore, have compassion upon you, and spare your jaded eyes the perusal of them. But I hope you will allow me to observe, my worthy sir, that it is not always necessary for a man to be either young, or six feet high, in order to be loved by a beautiful girl : for here am I, an old fellow of six- and-thirty, dearer than life to Emma Thornton, a blooming beauty of eighteen ! There's for you, sir — can you boast of such success ? Oh no : you are a cold, calculating person, and will undoubtedly laugh at the man, who has been silly enough to make an offer of marriage, to a woman without fortune, and of whose parentage he is ignorant; but stop your merriment, my friend, and be as- sured I am not quite so silly as you ima- gine. In the first place, the wisest of men has declared, that a virtuous woman 358 THE REBEL. is a jewel above all price ! and our great- est poet has said : " Favor'd of heaven, who finds One virtuous, rarely found, That in domestic good combines : Happy that house ! his way to peace i» smooth." Now, to my certain knowledge, Emma Thornton is virtuous, religious, prudent, sensible, well informed, and lovely : to require that a fortune should be added to all these perfections, would be exorbitant indeed. With respect to Emma's parents, my sister has always assured me they were re- spectable, and that Emma was born in wedlock : for further information on this point, she has invariably referred me to you — and to you I now apply ; therefore, do write me an immediate and circum- stantial account of every thing you know relative to my beloved girl \ and I hope you will not object to her becoming (in a THE REBEL. 359 few weeks) the bride of your old friend Harry Seaham. You will, beyond all doubt, laugh at my impatience, Sher- burne ; but oh! how sincerely do I wish at this moment that you were altogether and entirely as much in love as I am. To describe my feelings would be impossible. No language can convey a true definition of love — it can only be fully understood by those who feel it — by those on whose hearts it is inddibly imprinted ! My sister sends her love to her cousin Kenard, and joins me in requesting he will pay us a visit before he leaves Dorset- shire. Do not fail to send me a letter by return of post — for 1 can sift nothing out of Mary — she says the secret is yours, not hers i and that after you had paid her the compliment of entrusting it to her keep- ing, she should think very meanly of her- 360 THE REBEL. self, if she were to allow even her brother to tempt her to betray it. Who dares to say a woman cannot keep a secret? Write to me immediately, if you have a grain of feeling in your composition. Yours very faithfully, CARL[NGTON. Selby Park, Sept. 14, 17-55. Sir William and Kenard Lutterworth were much gratified by the contents of Lord Carlington's letter ; but not so, Miss Phillippa and her friend Tisiphone. The bare idea that Emma Thornton was likely soon to become a countess, was gall and wormwood to them both, particularly to Miss Sherburne, who protested she would rather her brother had married Emma, than that she should espouse Lord Car- lington; whose wife would of course take precedence of the future Lady Lewiston ! THE REBEL. 361 But do not let us too harshly, or too hastily, condemn these frail and wo- manly feeling's of the fair Philly : let us rather look closely into our own hearts, and eradicate from thence every spark of envy, hatred, and malice, ere we presume to sit in judgment on the envious and weak-minded Phillippa. Sir William immediately wrote the fol- lowing letter to Lord Carlington, and sent it hy a groom, that same afternoon — being anxious to prevent Emma's intend- ed departure from Selby. " MY DEAR CARLINGTON, " Your epistle (as you predicted) has afforded me infinite entertainment; and you must forgive me for observing, that a certain passage of " Pope's Ja- nuary and May," popped into my mind whilst reading it. VOL. I. R 362 THE REBEL. "I do not remember, at this moment, any remark of Sidney's on connubial hap- piness; but I recollect he says, that * Cu- pid makes it his sport to pull the warrior's plumes :' I should have expected, not- withstanding", that an old soldier like you, would have guarded his feathers with more spirit than you appear to have shown. But it is no use preaching, now the mis- chief is done : and, indeed, /, even 7, be- gin to think, * it is not good for man to be alone.' And 1 am half inclined to be- lieve Sir Philip Sidney was right in des- cribing love as ' a passion far more easily reprehended than refrained. 1 But more of this anon, as old Wriggleton says. " With respect to Emma's parents, it would require more time to write a regu- lar account of them, than would be con- sistent either with your impatience, or the present lazy state of my mind and THE REBEL. 363 body : but Kenard Lutterworth and I in- tend to pay you a visit for a few days, about the 21st instant (if convenient to you and Lady Mary) and I will then give you a detail, viva voce, of all I know con- cerning Emma's parentage. For informa- tion on this point (should you not have patience to await my arrival) I refer you to Lady Mary — she has my full permission to tell you all the particulars with which she is acquainted. I will not, however, neglect this opportunity of assuring you, that Emma Thornton is of no mean birth — some of the best, and most ancient blood in England, flows in her veins. Give her the enclosed letter; it contains my reasons for wishing her to remain another fort- night at Selby ; and pray tell her, I am sorry to hear she has commenced the fainting system. I have a particular 364 THE REBEL. aversion to your hysterical, fainting dam- sels ; but I dare say the dear girl was too ill to struggle with her feelings. My sister says your letter is, " without exception, the most complete tissue of nonsense and indelicacy she ever had the misfortune to meet with, in the whole course of her existence!" And Miss T. M. S. B. Wriggleton judges, from the tone of thy epistle, " that thou hast, of late, been casting away thy precious time in the perusal of those vain and diabolical works, yclept Romances, which are written by the sons of Darkness, and read by the daughters of Belial ! And that verily thy frequent embracements of the fair Philis- tine, curdle the blood at her heart, and make the very flesh to creep on her bones !*' She moreover protesteth, " that such clinging to the flesh-pots is altoge- THE REBEL. 365 ther sinful — and crieth aloud for the sweeping* and avenging besom of the destroying angel !' 3 f? Lady Bungleton, her two nieces, and her little imp of a nephew, arrived yester- day at Beltingham : — her ladyship and the Misses Barnacle are fair game, you must allow. Stanhope will he just in time for some fine sport. " Lord Lewiston only left us yesterday ; he has been here for this last fortnight, and I am inclined to believe has an hawk's eye on Philly's fortune. During the last week, he spent nearly the whole of each day in his dressing-room, under pretence of having numerous letters to write. I pray he may not have been hatching mischief— ma temo die axon ci faccia qualche tiro. I confess this idea has its origin from a conversation 1 had with my old friend Helen Stanley, who %66 THE REBEL. suddenly presented herself before me on the 12th. I cannot account for it, but her appearance never bodes me good ; and I am strangely and powerfully im- pressed with the idea, that some great danger is hanging, as it were, by a hair, over my head. La Fontaine says : " Le trop d'attention qu'on a pour le danger, Fait le plus souvent qu'on y tombe." Kenard Lutterworth is of the same opi- nion ; and I vowed, from the first, to be guided by his advice. But if I had acted according to my own judgment of the case, I should certainly have followed the counsel of my friend Helen : " This must be all Sanscrit to you" " 1 cannot conclude my letter without assuring you of the sincere pleasure I feel at the probability of your becoming, in a short time, the husband of my dear little ward : and although I have only THE REBEL. 367 given this assurance a place in the fag- end of my epistle, believe ine it does not (on that account) come the less warm from the heart of " Your sincere friend, " W. M. Sherburne." " P. S. The evening before Emma left Weatherall, I made her acquainted with some of the chief particulars relative to her parents (of which I had before, for certain good reasons, kept her in igno- rance) : you can, therefore, apply to her for information on this point, if you think proper. Miss Bathsheba leaves us to- morrow ; I have been obliged to put her under marching orders.'* We will now pass over three days, and continue our narrative from the 18th of September, when, as Sir William was 368 THE REBEL. sitting in the drawing-room, reading the Memoirs of Cardinal Bentivoglio, to his sister and Kenard Lutterworth, a post carriage and four, attended by two dra- goons, well mounted and armed, stopped at the door. Sir William was seated near a window, from whence he saw the arrival. " What can be the meaning of this?" he exclaimed : " There are two armed dragoons attending this carriage. By heaven !" he added, " Helen Stanley was right ; this is the message she pro- mised me !" The blood, in one moment, forsook the dark and manly cheek of Kenard Lutter- worth — he uttered not a syllable — but immediately left the apartment. END OF VOL. J. W.WILSON, PRINTER, 57, SKINNER STREET, LONDON. ,iN.o9a.aS'?? i UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS-URBANA 3 0112 084218806 mm* Sw£ ftfcWkW, L mm