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 TALES OF FANCY 
 
 BT 
 
 S. H. BURNEY, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 • €£AR1NTINE/ ' GERALUINE FAUCONBERGj' AND 
 
 * TRAITS OF NATURE.' 
 
 'STfit SSipfoucfe* 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED FOR HENRY COLBURN, 
 PUBLIC LIBRARY, CONDUIT SrUKKT, HANOTER SQUARE* 
 
 1816
 
 Jff, Clarke, Printer, Well Street, London.
 
 em 
 
 \ TO 
 
 THE RIGHT HON. LADY CREWE. 
 
 ^ Madam, 
 
 K. In obtaining the permission with which 
 ryour Ladyship has honoured me of inscribing 
 t to you this little volume, I feel even more 
 gratification as a daughter, than pride as an 
 -. author. You were the long-tried and faith- 
 - ful friend of my revered father ; and the fa- 
 : vour you are now conferring upon one of 
 ; his descendants, may justly be considered 
 ^as a tribute of affection to his memory. In 
 : that light, be assured, that I view it; since 
 blind as we commonly are to our own in- 
 5 significance, I am not so blind, as to be un- 
 conscious how slender are my claims, either 
 as an author or an individual, to your Lady-* 
 ship's attention. 
 
 May I be permitted to say a few words 
 ©n the subject of the volume itself. 
 
 I 1 58923
 
 VI DEDICATIOir. 
 
 I agi very anxious to prevail upon your 
 Ladyship to believe in the possibiliti/^ at 
 least, of the leading circumstance of my 
 story. Nothing but an absolute Fairy Tale 
 can be tolerated, the ground-work of which 
 is utterly incredible. I was so apprehen- 
 sive of having entangled myself in an error 
 of this sort, that^ to set my own mind at 
 ease, I stated my doubts and fears, ere I 
 had proceeded further than the first two or 
 three chapters, to a naval officer well qua- 
 lified to resolve them, and requested his sin- 
 cere opinion^ in writing, of the practicabi- 
 lity of finding for my shipwrecked sufferers, 
 such an asylum as I wanted, exactly in the 
 station where I wished to place them. The 
 following is an extract from his answer : 
 •* There is good room in the Indian Ocean 
 *' for an island, or several — and large enough 
 « for the required purpose, in places where 
 " it is not certain that any ship has been, 
 « Therefore, a new discovery is admissible. 
 " The ship should be outward bound, and 
 " sailing in time of war, when, to avoid 
 " the danger of an enemy, she may be sup- 
 «'• posed to steer in a more southerly track 
 «' than in time of peace. — The island may
 
 DEDICATION. Vlt 
 
 «* doubtless be fertile in fruits^ in volcanos, 
 " and in any other matters that may be con- 
 " venient. 
 
 *' I hope a prosperous Shipwreck can be 
 " made out of these materials, and am truly 
 " your's, &c/' 
 
 Was it not lawful, upon such authority, 
 to proceed? I found the temptation irre- 
 sistible ; for the story had caught my own 
 fancy ; I began to love my island, and to 
 have a true oriental relish for cocoa-trees, 
 and mangoes, for fragrant gales, and un- 
 clouded skies. 
 
 That your Ladyship may be induced to 
 adopt a little ©f this taste, is very fervently 
 my wish. I am well aware, indeed, that to 
 a discriminating and observant mind like 
 your's, a fiction less romantic— a tale found- 
 ed on contrasts of character, and delinea- 
 tions of" living manners," would have been 
 more acceptable. But this is only saying, 
 in other words, that your Ladyship loves ex- 
 cellence,— a species of excellence, alas ! 
 beyond my power of attainment: and I sus- 
 pect, that I did very wisely in confining 
 myself to a track where local description
 
 Vjli DEDICATION. 
 
 and mere adventure might supply the place 
 of sense. 
 
 Deign, however, dear Madam, with all 
 its deficiencies, to bestow on this humble 
 offering an indulgent reception ; and to be- 
 lieve, that next to the wish of doing honour 
 to mvs( Ir by prefixing to it your name, my 
 highest ambition was to give a sincere tes- 
 timony of the perfect deterence and respect 
 with which 1 am 
 
 Your Ladvship's 
 
 Most grateiul and obedient 
 Humble servant, 
 
 S. H, BURNEY. 
 
 Chelsea College^ 
 J^ecember 1, 1815.
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 
 ^ CaU. 
 
 BY 
 
 S. H. B U R N E Y« 
 
 La fede unqua non deve esser corrotfa, 
 O data a un solo, o data insierae a mille, 
 E cosi in un selva, in una grotta, 
 Lontan dalle cittadi e dalle ville. 
 Come dinanzi a fribunali, in frotta 
 Di testimon, di scrlitie di postille. 
 Senza giurare, o segno altro piii expresse, 
 Basti una voUa che s'abbia promesso. 
 
 Ariosto- 
 
 Good faith should ever be held pure from talatj 
 Whether to one, or to a thousand pledged ; 
 Whether in cave forlorn, or forest wild. 
 Remote from cities and the haunts of men. 
 Or facinj; a tribunal, and amidst 
 A crowd of witnesses, and formal bonds. — ■ 
 Leave oaths and records to the base ♦ enough, 
 'Mongstmen who've honour, is a promise giv'n.
 
 THE SHIPWRECK 
 
 A TALE. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 O, the cry did knock 
 Against my very heart I Poor souls I they perished, 
 
 Shakespear« 
 
 A LARGE East Indiaman, proceeding in 
 company with several others from England 
 to Bengal, and sailing a more southerly 
 track than is usual, to avoid the danger of 
 an enemy (it being time of war), was sepa- 
 rated from the rest of the fleet by a furiong 
 storm; and after passing in sight, as well 
 as the mariners were able to ascertain, of 
 the island of Amsterdam, between the Cape 
 of Good Hope, and New Holle^nd, was 
 Avreckedj in steering ro the north-easr, upon 
 
 B t>
 
 4 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 a ridge of rocks which nearly encircled a 
 snnall detached island in the Indian Ocean. 
 Amongst the passengers, nriost of whom 
 perished in the wreck, or in unsuccessful 
 endeavours to escape from it in the over- 
 crowded boats, two females, almost mira- 
 culously, survived the tremendous catas- 
 trophe; — a mother and daughter; who, 
 when assailed by a calamity so awful, were 
 steering in high spirits, to join, the one a 
 husband, the other a father, holding a 
 distinguished station in Hindostan. The 
 former of these rescued individuals. Lady 
 Earlingford, a woman of incomparable for- 
 titude, and very rare mental endowments, 
 had, on the first conviction of undoubted 
 danger, adopted the advice of one of the 
 most experienced seamen ; and directed 
 her attendants to assist her in lashing to 
 the fragment of a broken mast her almost 
 senseless daughter. The boats, she was 
 assured, would very speedily cease to afford 
 the slightest prospect of security: so many 
 were struggling to obtain admission into 
 them, that even the most sanguine could 
 scarcely entertain a hope of their resisting 
 tke violence of the waves. As a last act
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. S 
 
 <5f humanity, therefore, she supplicated the 
 servants, just before they ventured upon the 
 perilous expedient of leaping overboard, to 
 attach her to the same rude instrument of 
 preservation which she had, though not 
 without the most agonizing solicitude, 
 chosen for her child. This final command 
 was faithfully obeyed : and the event 
 proved that the measure, hopeless as it 
 was, and such as she herself almost con- 
 templated with despair, teemed with wis-^ 
 dom. Shortly after it had been adopted^ 
 the increasing tumult around her — the roar 
 of the elements, the cries of the distracted 
 mariners, and the crashing of the vessel — 
 became so hideous and overwhelming, that 
 Lady Earlingford, stunned and appalled, 
 lost all power of observation, and only 
 recovered her perceptions to find herself 
 afloat upon the tide, in utier darkness, 
 without any consciousness of the circum- 
 stances which had immediately preceded 
 her separation from the sinking vessel. 
 Her first impulse was, to stretch forth her 
 hand to ascertain the vicinity of her daugh- 
 ter ; and having convinced herself that 
 they were not disunited, she breathed foith 
 &3
 
 6 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 a grateful ejaculation, and submitted, with 
 
 patient courage, to every other evil attend- 
 ant upon ijer hazardous and melancholy 
 situation. 
 
 After a night of suffering too awful and 
 severe ever to be remembered vvithout a 
 sensation of shuddering horror, Lady Ear- 
 lingford beheld herseh', at dawn of day, 
 wirhiii reach, if not absolutely touching, 
 the sandy coast of what appeared to her 
 a well-shaded, and even beautiful little 
 island. The centre of this verdant spot, 
 rendered solemn by its profound stillness, 
 was crowned by a conical mountain of pro- 
 digious height, whose sides were cleft into 
 deep channels. Its shape and whole aspect 
 denoted it to be volcanic: but, by the 
 fertility reigning at its base, there was 
 reason to iinagiue that it had been visited 
 by no recent eruption. One end of the 
 mast, to which Lady Earlingford was 
 "bound, already grazed upon the beach ;. 
 and, dreading lest every returning billow 
 shonkl wash it (Hit again to sea, she lias-' 
 tened to cut asunder the cords witli which, 
 she was confined : and then, stepping in(<3s 
 the shallow water, she directed all heir
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 7 
 
 tfForts to the liberation of her young com- 
 panion, whose faculties seemed so com- 
 pletely suspended, partly from excess of 
 terror, and partly from the benumbing 
 effects of so Ions: an exposure to the wet 
 and cold, that she was as little able to assist 
 herself when released from her bonds, as 
 whilst still forcibly attached to the mast. 
 Her mother, with incredible difficulty, 
 drew her out of the surge. She placed her 
 under the shelter of some shrubs and bushes 
 growing on the beach ; and beneath which, 
 mixed with a fine white sand, a scanty 
 herbage found sustenance. This spot, per- 
 fectly dry, and fenced a few paces further, 
 by a cluster of lofty palm trees, faced the 
 eastern sun, now rising in full glory, and 
 dart'ng its warm and invigorating rays upon 
 their drenched and aching limbs. 
 
 Here, whilst Lady Earlingford, having 
 spread their upperg^arments upon thesand to 
 dry, sat supporting upon her knees the head 
 of her pale and speechless fellow. sufferer, 
 every reflection thatassaded her was of the 
 most painful and terrific nature. Thankful- 
 ness to Heaven for immediate preservation 
 could not repress a thousand disastrous 
 ^ 4
 
 S lALES OF FANCY. 
 
 presages relative to their future destiny. 
 Was the island inhabited ? Fervently did 
 she pray that it might not! No evils which 
 they might be fated to endure from priva- 
 tions of every description, appeared to the 
 parent's anxious heart half so dreadful as 
 those which her affrighted fancy conjured 
 up from a horde of lawless Indians. At 
 the moment these apj3rehensions rushed 
 into her mmd, her eye rested upon her 
 daughter, and never was pity more tender, 
 — more heart-breaking, than that with 
 which she regarded her. The eminent beauty 
 of the ill-fated girl, which, under happier 
 circumstances, had attracted universal ad- 
 miration, was, even in this hour of com- 
 plicated distress, obscured only, but not 
 impaired.. She had just attained her 
 seventeenth year ; and, drooping, exhausted 
 as she was — her eyes languidly closed-— 
 her hair dripping and dishevelled — her fea* 
 tures inanimate, and her complexion pale 
 as mm'ble, there was a melancholy sweet- 
 ness in her aspect— she looked so young, so 
 innocent, and her lot appeared so peculiarly 
 hard, that it was impossible to contemplate 
 her without the deepe&t compassion.
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 9 
 
 " For what, n)y poor Viola,'* cried Lady 
 Earlingford, as she hung weeping over her, 
 " for what art thou reserved } With all 
 this heauty, in the prime and freshness of 
 thy yontli, with so much elegance of mind 
 and habits^ an intelligence so acute, a sen- 
 sibility so lively — for what, beloved girl, 
 in this dread and unknown region art thou 
 reserved? O niay'st thou die, this very 
 hour, a spotless angel in these arms ! die— 
 and be lost to thy disconsolate mother for 
 ev^r, rather than become the prey of re- 
 morseless savages — the victim of implacable 
 brutality T' 
 
 These soul-harrowing apprehensions were 
 succeeded by others less horrible, perhaps, 
 in some respects, but possessing their full 
 share of misery. What means had Lady 
 Earlingford, should her companion be 
 restored to animation, of preserving her 
 existence ?- When, with looks oi" irresistible 
 supplication, those eyes, now equally ex- 
 cludmg the light of day, and the view of their 
 desolate situation, should fix themselves on 
 hers, imploring sustenance and succour, 
 what had she to bestow upon the idolized 
 pleader, but tears, sighs, and unavailing 
 B5
 
 10 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 lamentations! — '' And must she die the 
 lingering death of famine! Can I bear to 
 see her convulsively expiring at my feet !-■ - 
 Oh, Father of Mercy, avert from her so fear- 
 ful an end ! Give me enterprize and intelli- 
 gence to save her at least from this intoler- 
 able evil!" 
 
 As s'le uttered these words, gently de- 
 positing her lovely burthen on thelong thin 
 grass with, which that part of the beach 
 was sparingly scattered, and starting up 
 with renewed vigour, Lady Earlingford 
 advanced towards a grove of trees forming 
 the back-ground of the spot on which she 
 had been reposing. As she proceeded, 
 endeavouring^ however, constantly to keejik 
 her precious charge in view, thegrass became 
 more luxuriant, and the sandy consistence 
 of the soil improved into earth capaWe of 
 the highest cultivation. At length she 
 descried a clear and fertilizing brook, 
 calmly winding along amongst tufts of 
 shrubs, clustering so thickly tog,ether as 
 nearly to conceal its unruffled surface. Its 
 banks were also abundantly provided with 
 various descriptions of herbage, from amidst 
 which Lady Earlingford selected a species-
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 11 
 
 of water cresses, which on trial she found 
 so palatable, that no doubt remained to her 
 of its salubrious qualities. Furnishing 
 herself therefore with an ample portion of 
 it, she next turned her attention to the 
 means of conveying to herdaughteradraught 
 from the refreshing stream. Nothing im- 
 mediately presented itself: but indefatigable j 
 in her researches, she was so fortunate in 
 the end as to discover a large calabash, or 
 gourd, which, split by the ardent rays of the 
 sun, appeared perfectly adapted to the office 
 it was intended to perform. When filled, 
 the affectionate mother hastened with it, and 
 the herbs which she had collected, to her 
 still insensible child. The cooling beverage, 
 when applied to Viola's parched lips, 
 startled, and in a few minutes appeared to 
 revive her: she half unclosed her eyes; a 
 tremulous sigh heaved her bosom; and 
 though she as yet made no attempt to speak, 
 such direful images seemed, with returning 
 consciousness, to rush into her memory, 
 that shuddering, and letting her face fall 
 upon her two hands, she burst into a flood 
 of tears. The proffered food she gently re-^ 
 jected ; but after awhile, in a murmuY
 
 12 TALES OF FAKCY. 
 
 scarcely audible^ asked again for water. Ladj 
 Earlin2:tbrd, watching all her movements* 
 with intense anxiety, gratified the wish as 
 soon as uttered, and Viola having appeased 
 the burning thirst that devoured her, looked 
 mournfully -around — then gazed at herself, — 
 casta timid glance towards the ocean, and at 
 >j>ast fearfully said : '^ My mother — my most 
 dear mother! On u^hat unknown shore have 
 we been east ? How came we here ? — And 
 how, oh Heaven ! can you endure the 
 sight of an element which has wrought us 
 so much evil !" 
 
 " Its fury pursues us not here, my beloved 
 girl! The contention is over ; all immediate 
 peril is past? and the merciful Protector who 
 suffered us to outlive the dangers of the 
 late awful night, will extend to us his 
 guardianship, and provide for our existence 
 here!" 
 
 *' Where then are we, my mother ?'* 
 
 "In a spot which, to judge by what I 
 have hitherto been enabled to see of it, 
 appears fertile, and promises us the blessings 
 of a mild temperature, and of unmolested 
 security." 
 
 *' And are we," demapded Viola, in an
 
 THE SHIPWRECK* 15 
 
 accent of heart- pi ere ins: consternation, " are 
 we the only beings who survived the 
 storm ?'^ 
 
 ** It is possible we are not: but of that 
 lam yet in utter ignorance.'^ 
 
 '*^ You have seen no one, then ? Heard 
 no voice since the dreaHful cries of the 
 drowning wretches in the vessel penetrated 
 our hearts with unavail-ing but agonizing 
 compassion !-— Oh, those cries! they still 
 vibrate in my ears! they pursue — they 
 almost drive me frantic!" 
 
 As she spoke^ she buried her face in her 
 mother's bosom, and clung to her with all 
 the vehemence of one agitated by uncon- 
 troulable terror. Lady Earlingford soothed, 
 and endeavoured to inspire her with more 
 fortitude : but it was long ere the argu- 
 ments she used produced the effect of 
 calming the anguish of her daughter's 
 mind. Wrung with pity for those who had 
 perished, she enumerated in succession 
 their names; mourned over their fate; 
 dwelt upon their merits; bewailed the suf- 
 ferings ot their kindred, and often exclaim- 
 ed : " Why, why should / have been res- 
 cued^ and so many better beings — so many
 
 H TALES OP FANCY. 
 
 whose lives were of such infinitely greater 
 value — wh}^ should they have been sacri- 
 ficed r 
 
 A gloomy pause ensued : but presently, 
 raising her head with an air of solemn and 
 indescribable emotion : " We are now then 
 estranged from the rest of the creation ! No 
 human eye will ever rest upon us again ! 
 No voices save our own ever strike upon 
 our ears! We are outcasts — we are aliens 
 from all our species — and one of us may 
 die, and the other—Oh, ^tis too, too dread- 
 ful !'' She flung herself upon the earth, 
 overcome by the horror of this anticipation,, 
 and cries of mingled grief and dislraction 
 burst from her bosom. Lady Earlingford, in 
 deep distress, besought her to be more com- 
 posed : '' The despair to which you are 
 giving way,'* cried she, " is cruel ! It ag- 
 gravates all my own sufferings. O, riiydear 
 child, surmount this frenzy of impatience ! 
 Be submissive to the decrees of Providence, 
 and thus render yourself worthy of a gentler 
 fate. For you, chiefly, do 1 lament our 
 banishment; for you, and," she added, 
 sighing, '' your vainly expecting, and, ece> 
 long, deeply sorrowing father l"
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 15 
 
 At these words, Viola roused herself: 
 *' Alas, alas ! my poor unconscious father ! 
 What a stroke will this be to his affection- 
 ate heart ! But tell ine, my dearest mother, 
 do you think that we are indeed here— /or 
 life! Can a fiite so very dreadful, so de- 
 plorably gloomy really await us I Oh, God 
 of pity,** continued she, sinking upon her 
 knees, and passionately raising her eyes 
 and clasped hands to Heaven, " impute 
 not to me as a crime these tears, these 
 involuntary repinings! Weak, helpless^ 
 stricken as I am, I scarcely can be deemed 
 responsible for any thing I say : my mind is 
 all a chaos ; I have but one clear percep- 
 tion left — a sense of misery greater than I 
 can bear !'^ 
 
 It was many hours ere Lady Earlingford 
 had the consolation of seeing any abate- 
 ment in the bitterness of her dauf>hrer's. 
 feelings. One moment, stretched upon the 
 ground, invoking death to release her from 
 a state of such hopeless wretchedness ; the 
 next, sileiit, immovable, wrapt in gloomy 
 meditation, she looked as if sorrow had 
 turned her into stone; and deaf, for the
 
 16 TALES OP FANCT. 
 
 first time, to the voice of maternal affec- 
 tion, an air of torpid insensibility diffused 
 itself over her countenance that seemed the 
 forerunner of utter alienation of mind. Lady 
 Earlingford trembled at the menaced evil. 
 In the tenderest language, she adjured her 
 child to take pity on her breaking heart; 
 she folded her in her arms ; wept over her, 
 and lavished upon her every endearing, 
 epithet a parent's fondness could suggest. 
 '' Whilst thou art spared to me," she cried, 
 *' life may be supportable, even in this 
 dreary desert ! Thou art my all ! My senses, 
 my existence hang upon thine. Oh, look 
 up, my Viola ! Be a comfort to me ! Banish 
 from thy heart this unnatural apathy ! Unite 
 with me in suppHcations to the Almighty, 
 that we may not be torn asunder ; that, pro- 
 tected by his clemency whilst together, we 
 may at the same instant breathe forth our 
 expiring sigh !'' 
 
 These were the first words which ap- 
 peared to make upon the despondmg girl 
 the slightest impression : " Amen, amen !*' 
 she fervently ejaculated. Lady Earlingford 
 embraced her, and resuming the same strain
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 17 
 
 ef discourse, obtained, gradually, the un- 
 speakable satisfaction of witnessing her re- 
 storation to some degree of calmness. 
 
 The day was now far advance*), and the 
 fond mother, eager to prt»vide support for 
 her child of a more nourishms: kind than 
 the vegetables which she had al hrst brought 
 to her, yet unwilling to wander far from her 
 side, at length prevailed upon her to accom- 
 pany, and assist her in the search : '' But 
 first,*' she cried, " let us revisit the place 
 where we were drifted to shore. 1 faintly 
 recollect, I think, having perceived floating 
 near us some object resembling a chest or 
 trunk ; and should we be so happy as to 
 find my surmise realized, we may become 
 possessed of many couiforts unattainable by 
 any other means. Lean upon me, my Viola, 
 and let us proceed to examine what we may 
 now well consider as our only hope of tem- 
 poral assistance.*' 
 
 Shattered and enfeebled, Viola slowly 
 arose : the sun had long since dried her gar- 
 ments and her hair, and shone with a lustre 
 that gave beauty ta the lonely scene: but 
 nothing could impart comfort to her de- 
 jected spirit. She seldom raised her eyea
 
 18 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 from the ground; or if, for a moment, shft 
 mechanically.looked up, the objects around 
 her seemed to renew all her anguish, and 
 tears in large drops coursed each other 
 down her colourless cheeks. Lady Ear- 
 lingiord affected not to perceive these fresh 
 tokens ot sadness; but observing, with 
 thankfulness and pleasure, a great variety of 
 shell-fish scattered upon the beach, shfe 
 tried to tempt her to taste some of the food 
 thus bountifully proffered to their nee- s- 
 sities. A^iola, liowever, turned away with 
 feelings of disgust which she bad not yet 
 learnt to conquer: " I am still," said she, 
 *' too new in the school of adversity to raise 
 to my lips such crude and unprepared nou- 
 rishment. Do not press it upon me, my 
 dear mother ; when the cravings of hunger 
 become intolerable, you are very sure that 
 this fastidiousness must give way." 
 
 Lady Earlingford said no more ; and, 
 presently, having reached the spot where 
 they landed, she beheld, almost beyond her 
 expectations, the chest to which she had 
 alluded, drying upon the sands. 
 
 On approaching still nearer to this ve- 
 hicle of expected benefitj it was discovered
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 19 
 
 to have appertained to her nephew, a youth 
 who had sailed as a cadet in the same vessel 
 wiih her, and, only a few hours previous 
 to the storm, had obtained Jeive to go on 
 board one of the other Indiamen on a visit 
 to some of its officers. Taking with hmi 
 merely a tew immediate necessaries, his 
 chest had remained on board the vessel to 
 which he belonged ; aiid bein^ now, with 
 much difhcidty, forced open, proved to 
 contain many articles, which, to persons in 
 their destitute condition, were of the highest 
 importance. Asnongst a considerable quan- 
 tity of linen, there was a hale of cloth in- 
 tended for uniforms to be made up after the 
 young man's arrival in India; a musket, 
 and a number of gun«flints ; an ample sup- 
 ply of shoes ; several pounds of wax lights ; 
 a small case of instruments ; a few books in 
 the English, French, Persian, and Moorish 
 languages ; a little assortment of knives, 
 scissars, needles, and thread ; and a com- 
 plete suit of male attire. These, with some 
 other effects of less value, amongst which 
 was unexpectedly discovered a small saw, 
 and a large provision of stationery, com- 
 pleted the riches thus providentially disco-
 
 iO TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 vered. Lady Earlingford, at sight of snch 
 acquisitions, was really transported; she 
 considered them as pledges of divine mercy; 
 and felt a sort of prophetic conviction that, 
 if gratefully and worthily received, these 
 benefits would be followed by others equally 
 precious, and equally unexpected : " We 
 are not abandoned by our Heavenly Fa* 
 ther!" cried she. " He deals with us be- 
 nevolently, even in this hour of tribulation. 
 Take comfort, my poor girl! Put your 
 trust in his goodness; and sooth yourseli^ 
 as I do, with the firm belief, that we are 
 here only for a season, here only for a short 
 time of probation!" 
 
 Viola pressed her mother's hand, but un- 
 able to participate in the animation of her 
 feelings, remained silent. 
 
 Grown eager to secure her new property 
 from the risk of future mischief, her first 
 care, after depositing upon the shore the 
 heaviest of its contents, was, to drag the 
 chest out of reach of the returning tide. 
 This • fiected, she struck, by means of one 
 of the ^ui)-fl nts and the blade of a clasp 
 knife, a few sparks over a little heap of dry 
 leaves, which, quickly kindling, a flame
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. f 1 
 
 was produced, which being fed by withered 
 bou^iihs, in a very short time expanded into 
 an excellent fire. Over this, she pre; ared 
 their shell fish, which, with a portion of the 
 cresses already fathered, and a draught 
 from the pure mountain stream, completed 
 the first repast upon their new residence of 
 the desolate pair. 
 
 Invigorated in body, if not cheered in 
 mind, by the nourishment of which she had 
 partaken, Viola made no opposition to her 
 mother's wish of exploring the inland parts 
 of their hitherto secure and peaceful little 
 territory; and marking well the surround- 
 ing objects, that they might not, on their 
 return, mistake the spot where the chest 
 remained, they set out on their recon» 
 noitring expedition.
 
 92 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 In solitude, 
 What happiness ? Who can enjoy alone. 
 Or all enjoying, what contentment find ? 
 
 MiLTOJr. 
 Oh for a voice 
 Of comfort, 3 .for a ray of hope from Heaven ! 
 
 Sou THEY. 
 
 Speedily after they had quitted the 
 beach, the country began, though gradually, 
 yet very perceptibly, to rise. The woods 
 became thicker, and an infinitely greater 
 variety of trees, shrubs, and plants, present- 
 ed theiriselves. Many of these were such 
 as Lady Earlingford had not the remotest 
 acquaintance with ; but some she discover- 
 ed whose names and nutritious properties 
 she was perfectly aware of; amongst them 
 was the sugar cane, growi^ng wild, in small 
 bushes; the plantain, distinguished by its 
 tuft of broad, light green leaves, and 
 wholesome farinaceous fruit; the banyan 
 tree, itself a grove ; the mango, and the
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. S3 
 
 refreshing tamarind. Further on, along the 
 margin of the rivulet, wliose course they 
 were determined, as long as it was possible, 
 to pursue, they discerned large patches of 
 a sort of plant resembling spinnage, not 
 unpleasant to the palate even raw. Cocoa 
 trees in groves, limes, and a multitude of 
 lofty trees of the palm kind, nearly con- 
 cluded the list of botanical productions of 
 which Lady Earlingford had any previous 
 knowledge; but these, all grateful and 
 salubrious, were a feast to her eyes which 
 awakened the most thankful emotions. 
 Yet more to charm the senses, the seques- 
 tered shades through which they wandered 
 were peopled by innumerable birds, many 
 of which had nothing but the brilliancy of 
 their plumage to recommend them ; vyhilst 
 others, such as the Bengal bird, the yellow- 
 crowned thrush, and some whose shyness 
 allowed them not to appear, animated and 
 cheered the groves by the sweetness of their 
 song. 
 
 Lady Earlingford often suspended her 
 progress, and gazed around with the liveliest 
 admiration Viola once, meeting her eye, 
 which seemed to ask — ^*' Are there no charms
 
 24 TALKS OP FANCY. 
 
 here that may still give value to life?** 
 shook her head and said ; " I \ere are indeed 
 ample means of prolont.Mn^ life, — but where 
 is the interest that can render life a 
 blessing!" 
 
 " Still so desponding, my dearest child?*' 
 " Oh, worse — far worse than despond- 
 ing! I am ungrateful — I fear even sinfully 
 ungrateful ! The light of heaven is odious 
 to me ; and all the advantages which en- 
 dear existence in a state of society, such 
 as youth, health, security, and abundance, 
 I now consider as subjects of the most 
 bitter regret, since henceforward tbey can 
 serve no other purpose than that of length- 
 ening out the joyless and desolate career 
 to which I seem condemned. Tliink me 
 ;iot impious— -I presume not to prescribe to 
 the Almighty: but, had it pleased Him to 
 leave us one gleam of liope by which we 
 might have been cheered — might have been 
 encouraged to flatter ourselves that, at some 
 futureday, thisfearful exile would terminate, 
 I could have borne it, I am sure I could — 
 with constancy and resolution. But, for ever/ 
 •^-banished forever, and in the very morn of 
 life, from father, country, friends I— To be
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. ^6 
 
 dead to the world, yet still to maintain a 
 miserable existence upon its surface ! To 
 wander, perhaps for years, amidst these 
 rocks, in solitude, in silence^ in utter hope- 
 lessness ! Oh, my mother! these are in- 
 flictions which admit of so little alleviation 
 from the circumstance of climate, of out- 
 ward beauty, or fertility, that, were this 
 spot a paradise, isolated as it is, I should 
 deem myself the most pitiable of human 
 creatures in being sentenced to inhabit it !" 
 " And can you believe, my dearest 
 child," cried Lady Earlingford, " that I 
 contemplate your fate with at all less com- 
 passion ? Oh, no 1 I am conscious that, at 
 your age, a reverse such as this must be 
 terrible. To me, it is far from being equally 
 cruel. I have tried the attractions of the 
 world : I have long enjoyed the best advan- 
 tages which it has to bestow : I have had 
 friends : 1 have possessed the affection of 
 an honourable husband, and participated in 
 the public consideration which his high 
 character so deservedly obtained. I regret 
 these blessings, no doubt: yet, havingfully 
 tasted them, my imagination is at rest, and 
 lends to them none of the fascinations 
 c
 
 26 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 which, to your youthful and sanguine mind, 
 they must naturally wear. Could I there- 
 fore but see you more resigned, I might, 
 even here, call myself happy ; since, of all 
 the feelings I have experienced during a 
 life of nearly unclouded prosperity, none 
 ever satisfied my heart, none ever appeared 
 to me so delicious, as those which I am 
 still blessed with the power of indulging— * 
 the feelings of a mother !" 
 
 A^iola, deeply affected by this tender Ian» 
 guage, threw herself into her mother's arms; 
 and the gentlest tears which she had yet 
 shed, flowed from her eyes. Lady Earling^ 
 ford fondly returned her embrace, and thus 
 went on : " In what I have hitherto said, I 
 have adverted only to my own sources of 
 consolation. Let me now state the motives, 
 my deargirl, which should inducet/owtosub- 
 due this overwhelming consternation. How 
 far we were driven by the storm from the di- 
 rect tract to India I cannot pretend to ascer- 
 tain ; but what has happened to us,may, with 
 consequences less fearful, happen to others; 
 European ships may again be diverted from 
 their course ; may again approach this little 
 island; yet, outliving the tempest which
 
 THE SHIPWRECK, ^7 
 
 impels tliem, may anchor in security, may 
 discover our desolate situation, afford us 
 succour, and convey us back to all we love, 
 and all that we appear to have irremediably 
 lost. These, my dear Viola, are the 
 thoughts that 1 would have vou cherish ; 
 and when their influence has appeased the 
 acuteness of your present sorrow — when, 
 with recovered energy, you can indeed 
 calmly contemplate even the worst aspect 
 of our affairs, you will learn to wonder how 
 you could, though but for a moment, dis- 
 trust the power and mercy of that gracious 
 Being, by whom you have so lately, and 
 so signally been preserved/' 
 
 Viola was at an age, when gloomy im- 
 pressions, however strong, are seldom 
 indelible. She clung to the cheering 
 suggestions her mother presented to her: 
 she promised to repress her murmurs; to 
 make it the sole study of her life to repay 
 the thousand proofs of maternal love which, 
 from her birth, had been lavished upon her; 
 and these assurances, heard with delight, 
 contributed to fortify Lady Earlingford's 
 courage, and to animate all her powers of 
 €xertion» 
 
 C2
 
 28 TAXES OF* FANCY. 
 
 Though their progress had been slow 
 during the preceding dialogue, another 
 quarter of an hour brought ihem to a spot, 
 about one-third of the ascent up the moun- 
 tain, the elevation and beauty of which 
 induced them to pause. Above them the 
 rocks appeared bare, rugged, and inaccessi- 
 ble: but on the narrow yet verdant plat- 
 form to which they had leisurely and 
 insensibly climbed, they found a secure 
 resting-place, and gladly reposed whilst 
 regaling their sight with a survey of the 
 thousand natural charms so abundantly 
 bestowed upon the unknown, or neglected 
 little gem of which they were become the 
 admiring, and, apparently, the sole— -the in- 
 voluntary sovereigns ! Between two masses 
 of stone, richly overhung on either side by 
 woods of every tint, form, and dimensions, 
 flowed a limpid brook ; whose course, after 
 having been impeded by intervening crags, 
 over which it dashed with turbulence and 
 impetuosity, at length found a smoother 
 channel, and ran calm, polished, and clear 
 as the brightest crystal. The two wan- 
 derers could hear it, as they sat, falling 
 frotti precipice to precipice with a sound at
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 29 
 
 once vehement, refreshing, and monotonous. 
 Thick clumps of odoriferous orange trees, 
 mingled with tamarinds and pahnettos, 
 waved over their heads ; and, full in front of 
 their green and lofty retreat, appeared the 
 ocean in boundless and now unruffled ma- 
 jesty, reflecting the beams of a cloudless 
 sun. 
 
 Viola turned her eyes from the sight : 
 *' So placid now,'* she internally cried,—. 
 " and yesterday so fatally outrageous ! Thou 
 art content, then^ with the victims thou 
 hast ingulfed ; and smil'st, as in ruthlesB 
 triumph, at thy mightiness to destroy !** 
 
 A deep sigh, proceeding from an aching 
 heart, which she dreaded again to afflict her 
 jnother by unburthening, followed this 
 mental exclamation. To conceal the tears 
 which had rushed to her eyes, she arose as 
 if to examine a singular shrub starting from 
 a crevice in the rock at a few paces distance ; 
 whilst Lady Earlingford, still engaged in 
 .contemplating the novel beauties of the 
 scene, remained, during some minutes, un- 
 conscious of her removal : but when she 
 missed her from her side— turned, and saw 
 not the form dearer to her eyes than the 
 c 3
 
 50 TALES OF rAN€T, 
 
 Jight of heaven, a moment of the most 
 pungent agony extorted from her a cry 
 that thrilled to the soul of her affrighted 
 child, and brought her, with panting eager- 
 ness, to know whence an exclamation of 
 such terror had originated. 
 
 Pale as death, and trembUng in every 
 joint, yet forcing a tearful smile, Lady 
 Earlingford, as she pressed her daughter's^ 
 hand, said : " See, my dear Viola, whether 
 thy poor mother has any pretence to accuse 
 thee of weakness— to arraign thee for want 
 of self-command! The circumstance of 
 nierel}^ losing sight of thee for a few fearful 
 seconds, has reduced her to the tottering 
 feebleness of an infant ! Leave me not 
 again, beloved girl — leave me not again, I 
 implore thee! This single experiment, 
 brief as it has been, suffices to convince 
 me, that, were I, by any unexplained 
 cause, deprived but for an interval of thy 
 presence, neither my intellects, nor, per- 
 haps, my life, could withstand the shock !'* 
 
 Viola, heart-struck and dismayed, hung 
 round her agitated parent, soothing and 
 cheering her; and, by a thousand tender 
 promises, seeking to dispel the emotion
 
 IHE SHIPWRECK. 5l 
 
 which she had so unintentionally excited. 
 When assured that she had in a great mea- 
 sure succeeded — " Will you not, my dear- 
 est mother/' she cried, *' the more readily 
 pardon this little transgression in you^ 
 child, when you learn that her transient 
 absence has effected a discovery which 
 secures to us the very benefit of which we 
 %vere most in need ? Behind those bending 
 shrubs, and partly concealed by that jutting 
 crag, is a cave, my dear mother, dry, spa- 
 cious, and impenetrable to the vicissitudes 
 of the weather. In wet or cold, in wind 
 or heat, there we shall be equally fenced 
 from the elements; and it appeared to me, 
 «s far as I was able to judge on so short an 
 inspection, divided into two compartments, 
 forming an inner and an outward recess, 
 the one adapted to our accommodation by 
 day ; the other, warmer, and less exposed 
 to the dews of night. Come and view it: 
 I am sure you will bless the impulse which 
 guided me to the detection of so welcome 
 a place of refuge.'* 
 
 Charmed by such a description. Lady 
 Earlingford arose in haste to examine, with 
 her daughter, this newly-announced asy- 
 «4
 
 52 TALES OF FANCY, 
 
 lum. She found it, in every respect, such 
 US Viola had represented ; and, like all 
 things valuable of attainment, whether in 
 the moral or the physical world, found it 
 veiled from observation, unobtrusive, and 
 not to be won without some trouble. 
 
 The sun had not yet completed more 
 than half his course, and allowed them 
 ample time, whilst still it was above the 
 horizon, to make such a disposition of the 
 effects discovered in the chest, as should 
 secure to them a night of comparative 
 luxury, beneath the shelter of their seques- 
 tered retreat. The chest itself they were 
 compelled to leave upon the beach ; its 
 weight being greater than they now felt 
 themselves equal to remove : but in two 
 journeys they conveyed to their sylvan grot 
 all the property with which it had been 
 furnished, and found no small degree of 
 interest in disposing these objects around 
 the cave in the most convenient order. 
 Having completed these, not unpleasant 
 labours, and perceiving that the day was 
 drawing to a close, Lady Earlingford and 
 her daughter selected, from the variety that 
 presented itself on every side, some fruit for
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. S3 
 
 their evening repast; and then, commend- 
 ing themselves in fervent prayer to their 
 sole— their Heavenly Guardian, they sunk 
 to sleep upon a bed of leaves, each clasping 
 a hand of the other in her own, and rested 
 securely till the break of day. 
 
 The morning, though it found the un- 
 happy outcasts much recruited by the un- 
 molested repose which they had enjoyed, 
 brought with it a renewal of that solemn 
 sense of desolation, which for some hours 
 had been suspended and forgotten. Viola's 
 first indication of returning consciousness 
 was a deep-drawn and heart-rending sigh : 
 her mother heard^ and involuntarily echoed 
 it. They embraced with tender, though 
 sad emotion ; yet, actuated by the s^ame 
 sentiment of gratitude, as they gazed around 
 their faintly-illumined cell, they spon- 
 taneously offered up their thanks for the 
 security they had experienced ; and, shortly 
 after, repaired, arm in arm, their eyes 
 moistened, but not overflowing, to the wild 
 shrubbery adorning the sort of terrace at 
 the entrance of thejr cave. 
 
 The morning was clear and serene as the 
 evening of the preceding day : the few uiusi- 
 c 5
 
 Jg4 TALES OF FANCY, 
 
 cal birds on the island were hailing the fir&t 
 rays of the sun with instinctive rapture; the 
 vegetable creation, refreshed and verdant, 
 sparkling with dew, and diffusing fragrance 
 around, looked more gay and lovely than in 
 A^iola's eyes it had ever done in any other re- 
 gion. She andher mother seated themselves 
 on the spot where they had sought repose the 
 day before, and for nearly an hour calmly 
 conversed on the subject of their future 
 mode of life — the disposal of their time, and 
 the wisest and most frugal uses to which 
 their European property might be applied. 
 This discussion over, — in vvhichbothsoughfe 
 not only to evince, but to feel greater 
 interest than it was yet capable of exciting 
 in the brea&t of either,— they partook of 
 such nourishment as with the least trouble 
 was within their reach ; and then, with 
 virtuous en ulation, proceeded to employ 
 themselves in taking a more accurate survey 
 of their stores ; in setting aside whatever 
 might be required for immediate accom- 
 modation ; and in making a more compact 
 arrangement of the remainder. 
 
 Towards noon, they desisted from these 
 sedentary avocations, and descended to th^
 
 ^HE SHIPWRECK. 3S 
 
 beach to ascertain the state of the tide, and 
 if it was favourable, togather upon the sands 
 the moderate portion of animal food their 
 appetite required. The waves were already 
 gently rippling back to the shore : but they 
 were yet in time to effect their purpose; 
 and as Viola, inclining forward, intent upon 
 her employment, walked with her eyes 
 fixed on the ground, she was struck, in 
 defiance of the dejected state of mind which 
 rendered her nearly indifferent to outward 
 objects, by the beauty of form, colour, and 
 design of the innumerable shells that lay 
 scattered in her path. The time had been, 
 when an exhibition so admirable would 
 have been contemplated by her with rap- 
 ture. Highly cultivated, few of the studies 
 connected with the system of female im- 
 provement adopted in modern times, had 
 been neglected through the progress of her 
 education. She understood something of 
 conchology, and had possessed, amongst 
 other curiosities, a little cabinet of shells, 
 which it had been her delight to class, 
 ■arrange, and, at every opportunity, to 
 enlarge. How inestimable would the love- 
 ly specimens now before her have appeared
 
 3G TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 at that happy period ! What were they at 
 the present moment ? — Futile and insigni- 
 ficant. She cast upon them a slight and 
 almost unconscious glance, and then passed 
 on, surprised that she could have been at- 
 tracted by them at all. 
 
 Their temperate meal concluded, the 
 mother and daughter dedicated the remain- 
 der of the day to a ramble round the base of 
 the mountain, in order to gain some know- 
 ledge of the extent of the isle; and also 
 from the secret wish, on Lady Earlingford's 
 part, of becoming thoroughly assured that 
 they had nothing to apprehend from the fe- 
 rocity of any, hitherto undescried, inhabi- 
 fants. So prepossessed had Viola been, 
 from the first moment she recovered her 
 senses on reaching the island, that they had 
 been drifted upon an absolutely unpeopled 
 shore, that the dread of encountering the 
 slightest molestation from a native never 
 presented itself to her imagination ; whilst, 
 on the contrary, the terror of this greatest 
 of all evils, was scarcely for an instant ba- 
 nished from the bosom of her mother. 
 Happily, no indications presented them- 
 selves in the progress of their expedition
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 37 
 
 calculated to confirm these natural, yet 
 harassing, fears. From the elevated spots 
 to which they occasionally ascended, they 
 couid command the whole extent of low 
 land between the mountain and the sea. 
 Neither hut, nor other vestige of human 
 residence appeared ; all was silent, unte- 
 nanted — flourishing, yet uncultured — aw- 
 ful from its solitude, yet beautiful from its 
 verdure. The immense trees, which, mixed 
 with those of humbler dimensions, at once 
 gave variety and magnificence to the land- 
 scape, seemed coeval with creation ; the 
 turf bore no impression of the progress of 
 any living creature across it ; there was no- 
 thing in any part of the prospect to remind 
 the insulated pair of the fellow-beings with 
 whom they had once associated: they could 
 almost have fancied themselves the only 
 survivors on earth after a general wreck of 
 the human species. 
 
 " Ah, my dear mother,'* cried Viola, 
 " will the time ever arrive when, ceasing to 
 regret so acutely former connexions, and 
 former blessings, we shall learn to contem- 
 plate our presen*^ state without dismay and 
 aversion ? Will this place ever become to-
 
 is TALES OP FANCY. 
 
 lerable to us? Will the heart ever partici* 
 pate in the approbation which it irresistibly 
 extorts frona the ei/e ? Is the mind pliant 
 enough to reconcile itself to a change so 
 tremendous ?" 
 
 " Experience alone," replied Lady Ear- 
 lingford, *' can teach us what custom and 
 sad necessity may effect. There is a story 
 upon record of a state prisoner detained so 
 long in durance, that when his dungeon 
 was at length thrown open, he refused to 
 quit it. Amongst the popular proverbs, 
 consecrated as ' the wisdom of nations,' there 
 is one favourable to our case : Habit is 5e- 
 cond nature,*' 
 
 *' True,'* resumed Viola, *« and to this 
 mechanical and tedious process must I look 
 for my only hope, I fear, of uncomplaining 
 endurance. It is not merely impatience, it 
 is terror at a state of such utter desolation 
 that irritates my sufferings. Had I been a 
 man, dear mother, my firmer nerves would 
 have enabled me to bear it better. The 
 higher degree of energy and fortitude at- 
 tached to the male character would surely 
 have divested this wilderness of much of 
 its dread solemnity."
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 39 
 
 <« I question whether it would. The 
 nature of man is, in a peculiar degree, rest- 
 less and ambitious; his aim is distinction ; 
 his prerogative authority; his province ex- 
 ertion. Would the ardourofa truly masculine 
 spirit contentedly support the inactive, un- 
 varying, tenourof a life such as this ? No; 
 nor, to say the truth, should I much ho- 
 nour the disposition which could unmur- 
 muringly accommodate itself, in the vigour 
 of every faculty, to an existence soobscure — 
 so exempt from all purpose of utility. Wo* 
 men, my dear Viola, are not only more 
 formed for retirement, but they know how 
 to yield to circumstances with more grace, 
 to submit to adversity with more compo- 
 sure than their turbulent coadjutors. Wo- 
 men are timid, yet they resist despair ; they 
 shun all active contest, but their fortitude, 
 though passive, is steady. Sudden danger 
 appals them; but sufferings, privations, 
 disappointments, sorrows — women can bear 
 all these, and even display greatness of 
 mind in bearing them; whilst men sink 
 under such tame calamities, and degenerate 
 into helpless and peevish repiners.'^ 
 
 *' You have convinced me/^ said Violaj,
 
 4© TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 faintly smiling, " that few heroes would 
 make good hermits: but, alas! my own 
 feelings convince me also, that it is very 
 possible to make a bad hermit without pos- 
 sessing one of the requisites that would 
 constitute a hero !'^ 
 
 In discourse such as this, the hours 
 elapsed, and evening was fast approaching, 
 when Lady Earlingford judged it prudent 
 to direct her steps towards the retreat 
 which they now regarded as their home. 
 In the progress of this day's perigrination, 
 with all the diligence which they could 
 exert, it did not appear to either mother or 
 daughter that they had encompassed more 
 than one-third of the circle round the moun- 
 tain. In many places tlfH^y had been im- 
 peded by the inequalities of the ground 
 they had to traverse; by the intervention 
 of abruptly projecting rocks ; the closely 
 entangled uiidervvoud .which grew beneath 
 the fortst-trees ; or the sudden interrup- 
 tion of a deep though narrow torrent which 
 they could only cnss by taking a circuit- 
 ous route in search of its most fordable 
 passage. 
 
 On reaching their fustic abode, where
 
 THE SHIPWRECK, 41 
 
 every thing remained as when they had left 
 it, they concluded the day as they had be- 
 gan it, with prayers and supplications, and 
 too weary for further conversation, betook 
 themselves to rest.
 
 49 TALES OF FANCY, 
 
 CHAP. III^ 
 
 Ah ! region of delight ! ccakl ought be found. 
 
 To sooth awhile (he tortured bosom's pain. 
 Of sorrow's rankling shaft to cure the wound^ 
 
 And bring life's first delusions once again, 
 'Twere surely met in thee ! — thy prospect fair, 
 Thy wood-notes wild, thy clear and balmy air, 
 Hare power (o sooth all sadness — but despair. 
 
 Charlotte SMITH4 
 
 The succeeding, and many following 
 days, passed nearly in the same manner* 
 unmarked by any incident of greater im- 
 portance than, perhaps, the discovery of 
 some new plant, adapted to the purposes 
 of food; the view, in some of their long 
 wanderings, of a peculiarly romantic spot, 
 or the accidental detection of the varied 
 uses to which the abundant vegetable pro- 
 duce around them might be applied. From 
 the cocoa-nut, whose hard rind Lady Ear- 
 lingford and Viola had learnt very dex- 
 terously to divide, they soon became aware, 
 that an oil might be extracted without great
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 45 
 
 labour, capable of feeding any kind of rude 
 Jamp which, from the deep shells on the 
 shore, they should succeed in contriving. 
 To the calabash, the first serviceable object 
 which they had discovered, their subse- 
 quent obligations were endless. Its thin, 
 and close-grained shell, as they had often 
 read is the case in the West Indies, and on 
 the continent of Africa, afforded to them a 
 substitute for almost every domestic vessel 
 they could require; and, still to enhance 
 its value, might, they soon found, be ap- 
 propriated even to the purpose of boiling 
 water, being of a texture so singularly com- 
 pact, as to bear the action of fire several 
 succeeding times without being injured. 
 From the leaves of the cocoa tree, and the 
 pliant twigs of the bamboo, Viola taught 
 herself the art of constructing little baskets, 
 useful for containing fruit, and still more 
 useful as affording their ingenious manu- 
 factress the means of filling up some portion 
 of the time which too often hung most hea- 
 vily on her hands. By degrees, she became 
 expert in such a variety of ways, and look- 
 ed so much less unhappy when employed, 
 that Lady Earlingford intentionally devised
 
 44 TALES 01? FANCY. 
 
 a thousand little experiments for the secret 
 purpose of stiniulating her to continual ac- 
 tivity. When evening arrived, they allowed 
 then}selves the indulgence of recurring to 
 their limitted^ but precious library. The 
 works of which it principally consisted were 
 first, a Bible and Prayer-book; then, Mil- 
 ton's Paradise Lost, Shakespear's Plays, 
 bound in a single volume; a broken set of 
 Pkitarch^s Lives; Anson's and Cooke's 
 Voyages, and two or three other authors, 
 upon subjects less generally interesting, but 
 more scientific. Most of those above enu- 
 merated, were of a description, though 
 often read before, to be read for ever with- 
 out satiety or languor; and Viola, always 
 passionately fond of books, and now, de- 
 prived of every other recreation, pursued 
 her lectures with an avidity so intense, 
 that whilst thus engaged, every fear, every 
 regret, every circunnstance connected with 
 her present position, vanished from her re- 
 membrance, and she hoped or desponded, 
 wept or exulted in sympathy with the sup- 
 posed feelings of which she read, and in 
 happy oblivion of all that related to self. 
 To these alternate efforts of industry, and
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 45 
 
 gratifications of intellect, Viola, ere long, 
 added another solace, which, however 
 simple, she was in no predicament to dis- 
 dain. The birds so numerously dispersed 
 throughout the island, unus-d to human 
 treachery or violence, and therefore divested 
 of nearly every species of apprehension, im- 
 proved the intimacy which they had been 
 gradually making advances towards con- 
 tracting with her, till many of them became 
 so confiding, that they voluntarily fed from 
 her hand, stationed themselves upon her 
 shoulders, and accompanied her wherever 
 she went, or surrendered themselves her 
 willing guests at night, and roosted upon 
 the bamboo perches which she prepared 
 for them within the cave. It was pleasant 
 to meet with any objects she could love ; 
 and nearly the first symptom of a smile 
 which Lady Earlingford beheld and joyfully 
 hailed on the face of her dejected daughter, 
 was drawn forth by the amusing familiarity 
 of these unsuspicious little associates. To 
 some, of whose names she was ignorant, 
 Viola assigned appellations indicative of 
 their dispositions. One tribe she called the 
 eourtier birds; another, the plotters; and
 
 46 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 those in highest favour, she denominated 
 the social birds: these last were the onlj 
 ones who ever ventured within the grot; 
 and so perfectly fearless and domestic were 
 they become, and such, m various instances, 
 was the intelligence and attachment which 
 they displayed, that a more misanthropic 
 observer might have been tempted to prefer 
 them to many of their consequential biped 
 brethren of the human species. 
 
 The solitary pair had now been residents 
 fiomewhat more than three weeks in their 
 Indian desert ; all turbulence of grief had 
 fiubsided: even Viola, though far from being 
 restored to her naturally gay frame of mind, 
 was, at intervals, capable of conversing with 
 some animation. She one evening, the 
 most deliciously temperate of any which 
 they had yet experienced, solicited her mo- 
 ther to accompany her on a favourite walk, 
 leading to a recess amongst the rocks about 
 half a mile from their cell, whence a pros- 
 pect of such picturesque beauty might be 
 discerned, that it was become with her a 
 resort the most attractive upon the island: 
 *' We will take our dear Shakespear with 
 us," said she, '' and when we have reached
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 4T 
 
 my pleasant haunt, I will read to you some 
 of the scenes of his ever-interesting Tern* 
 pest — scenes rendered to me now inex- 
 haustibly attaching by the coincidence with 
 our own circumstances which they so often 
 bear ; by the impulse they give to my almost 
 paralyzed fancy, and the cheering images 
 which they enable me to call together." 
 
 " Do you, then,^' said Lady Earlingford, 
 as they sallied forth on their expedition, 
 " do you picture to yourself, with the aid 
 of this all-powerful magician, Fancy, the 
 etherial and delicate Ariel, bending sub- 
 missively before his ' Great master ;^ flying to 
 do his 'bests ; — sailing in the clouds, or 
 skimming o'er the deep ? Do you hear his 
 voice in the wind, or listen to his music 
 along the shore ?" 
 
 ** Almost, my dear mother ! And almost 
 I could weep with Ferdinand at the Spirit's 
 poetical description of the transformation 
 undergone by the poor Prince's father ; I 
 could half persuade myself that I see the 
 disconsolate wanderer; ' his arms in this 
 sad knot,' pacing the beach, and starting at 
 the sounds which cruelly, because falsely, 
 inform him, he no longer has a parent.**
 
 4S TALES OP FANCY. 
 
 " And, by the same force of itnagina- 
 tioB,'* said Lady Earlingford, a little archly, 
 " do you never identify yourself with 
 Miranda, and, in fancy, perform the part 
 of comforter to the poor Prince ?'* 
 
 " Ah, no. I should grieve now at the 
 association to our banishment of any male 
 companion. You have taught me to be- 
 lieve, that a man, thus exiled, would be so 
 irremediably unhappy, so disgusted, and 
 so unceasingly repining, that, not even in 
 my most visionary moments, do I ever 
 admit one into my romance. No : we will 
 have no murmuring Ferdinands here, 
 f cooling the air with sio hs :' we can, alas ! 
 furnish sighs enough of our own V 
 
 On their arrival at their destined resting- 
 place, Viola, more than ever struck by the 
 bright aspect of every surrounding object, 
 glowing in the rays of the evening sun, 
 forgot her meditated lecture, satisfied with 
 the pleasure of contemplating the charms 
 ©f a spot she had never till now seen at so 
 advantageous a moment. Lady Earlingford, 
 silently participating in her feelings, sat 
 placidly beside her; now surveying the 
 lifeless, though beautiful features of the
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 4i> 
 
 landscape ; now, with still greater interest, 
 gazing: on the expressive face of her child. 
 
 Suddenly these peaceful enjoyments were 
 interrupted. Lady Earlingford, precipi- 
 tately rising, darted towards a thicket, a 
 few paces from them, and there became 
 engaged in eager and even terrified search 
 of some object which she fancied had, the 
 moment before, whizzed through the air, 
 -and fallen in that direction. Viola's head 
 was turned a contrary way, and she had 
 not observed any peculiar appearance, nor 
 attended to the sound by which her mother 
 had been alarmed : but, whilst the latter was 
 still continuing her anxious scrutiny, the 
 compassionate and startled girl beheld a 
 bird, about the size of a pheasant, drop, 
 fluttering and helpless, at her feet. Slie 
 had no time to examine its condition, or to 
 attempt giving it any relief; for, just as she 
 was bending over it. Lady Earlingford, with 
 a complexion blanched by terror, and lips 
 that quivered as she spoke, rejoined her, 
 and, in a low and hurried accent, said: 
 " A^iola, we must instantly retreat from 
 hence:— -ask no questions ; but follow me 
 with all the speed you can exert.' ^ 
 
 b
 
 60 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 Scared and shaking, though she knew 
 not wherefore, A^iola seized lier mother's 
 arm, and prepared for flight ; yet, ere she 
 went, casting a pitying glance towards the 
 panting bird, and, reluctant to leave it in so 
 deplorable a state, she snatched it up, and 
 then accompanied Lady Earlingford in 
 mute consternation, along the steep and 
 broken path that led towards the cell. 
 
 The origin of all this speed and dismay 
 was, in truth, of no trivial nature, and fully 
 justified Lady Earlingford's utmost alarm. 
 Tn the brake wdiich, hearing it rustle, and 
 beholding it struck by some falling body, 
 she had so scrupulously examined, an 
 arrow had met her sight, constructed exactly 
 like those used, as she had heard, by the In- 
 dians; and the bird, disabled and wounded, 
 which Viola had picked up, she doubted 
 not was the object against which the arrow 
 had been aimed. This discovery convinced 
 her at once, that the island, though she and 
 her daughter had so long escaped all molest- 
 ation, was, in reality, inhabited; and re- 
 vived, in greater force than ever, all the 
 timidity and undefined dread which an ifl- 
 terval of such uninterrupted security had
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. ^l 
 
 contributed to dispel. Yet silencing her* 
 but too reasonable fears, this tender mother, 
 during their rapid return to the cave, em- 
 ployed her mind nearly as solicitously in de- 
 vising the means of averting from her child 
 ^he infection of her dismay, as in meditating 
 upon the painful circumstance which had 
 given it birth. Once or twice, when Viola, 
 burning with curiosity, attempted in a 
 whisper to entreat an explanation. Lady 
 Earlingford, unprepared with any reply, 
 placed her finger on her lips to enjoin cau- 
 tion and forbearance; and the wondering 
 girl, too docile to infringe a command even 
 thus perplexingly signified, suppressed her 
 impatience, and submitted, without a com- 
 plaint, to the prolonged suspense which she 
 was condemned to endure. 
 
 But when once more within the pre- 
 cincts of their grot, giving scope to her feel- 
 ings, she poured upon her mother a succes- 
 sion of questions the most eager and the 
 most voluble : " Some hideous appearance," 
 she cried, " must have encountered your 
 sight in that mysterious thicket. It is lio 
 frivolous cause that could thus shake vour 
 stecidy spirit! Speak, dearest mother — 
 D 2
 
 52 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 what did you discover ? Are there venom- 
 ous reptiles on the island, or animals of 
 prey ?" 
 
 Unused to every species of fabrication, 
 Lady Earlingford, who had vainly tasked 
 her imagination to furnish her with any 
 credible motivefor what had passed, availed 
 herself most gladly of the one thus unex- 
 pectedly afforded her. She permitted the 
 suggestion started by her daughter to re- 
 main uncontradicted; and Viola, predis- 
 posed to be deceived, was too much engaged 
 in filling up the out-line of the case which 
 " she had herself invented, to be very quick- 
 sio:hted to her mother's embarrassment. 
 
 '• 1 comprehend now,'* said she, " the 
 %vay in which this poor bird has been in- 
 jured. It probably was attacked by the 
 ferocious creature, whatever it was, which 
 occasioned you so much trepidation, and 
 had sagacity enough to repair ^o us for pre- 
 jservation from inevitable death. Poor little 
 harmless thing! how I love it for its trust 
 in our pity 1 But its wing, I fear, is broken ; 
 and it seems hardly able to raise its languid 
 eye-lid ! My dear mother, will you not* 
 assist me in trying to do something for it ?"
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. O'J 
 
 Lady Earlingford was but ill disposed at 
 that moment to give directions how to per- 
 form the part of surgeon to a wounded 
 bird : but, rather than disappoint her com- 
 passionate child, she was beginning to re- 
 commend some expedient for its relief, 
 when the poor creature fell on its side, and, 
 after a faint struggle, expired in Viola's lap. 
 At this sight, turning pale, and shuddering, 
 she gazed on it many minutes in silent 
 consternation ; and then, placing her hands 
 before her face, as if to hide her emotion, 
 she mournfully said: " Ah, dearest mo- 
 ther! — the sigiit of death — even the death 
 of a poor bird — wliat hideous ideas, in this 
 lonely scene, does it awaken 1 Tije day 
 must come when one of .75 shall tbu^ perish 
 in full view of the other! Oh, my mother ! 
 think, think what will then be the despair, 
 —-the unmitigated agony of the miserable 
 survivor 1" 
 
 Already depressed by her own secret 
 inquietude, Lady Earlingford was quite 
 overcome by this gloomy, and but too na- 
 tural reflection ! She threw herself upon 
 the ground beside her daughter, and folding 
 her in her arms, wept upon her shoulder a 
 d3
 
 6-^ TAIICS OF FANCY. 
 
 flood of the bitterest tears which ever yet 
 she had shed. Viola lamented having 
 touched so disastrous a theme: yet such 
 Vi^ere the dismal thoughts impressed upon 
 her imagination by the incident she had 
 just witnessed, that she had scarcely power 
 for some time to exert lierself for the revival 
 of her distressed fellow-outcast. By de- 
 grees, both regained more composure : and 
 Lady Eariingford, accusing herself of weak- 
 ness, arose, kissed her daughter's forehead, 
 exhorted her to struggle against such 
 mournful anticipations;^ — and then, pacing 
 up and down their spacious cavern, she 
 revolved in silence the safest and best 
 method of investigating the subject of her 
 recent alarm. 
 
 A ray of consolation sometimes beamed 
 upon her, when the possibility suggested 
 itself, that the arrow, the instrument of so 
 much disturbance to her, might not, after all, 
 have been launched by any actual resident 
 upon the island, but by some Indian pass- 
 ing near it in his canoe. The spot w here it 
 fell was by no means so distant from the 
 sea as to render such a circumstance im- 
 probable ;~or, at all events, the archei*
 
 dTHE SHIPWRECK. SS 
 
 might be only an accidental sportsman, at- 
 tracted by the number of birds in their 
 woods, or the profusion of fish upon their 
 shores. He might land a few hours, and 
 then re-embark for his accustomed abode. 
 That he had been unaccompanied, the per- 
 fect stillness of the place, unbroken by any 
 sound of human voices, seemed strongly to 
 testify. Clinging then to the hope that 
 this personage, whencesoever he might 
 come, would prove a visitor as transient aa 
 he was undesired, Lady Earlingford sum- 
 moning all her fortitude, determined, as 
 soon as Viola should be asleep, to avail 
 herself of the brilliant light afforded by a 
 full unclouded moon, in order to revisit. the 
 scene of her late terror, it was to be con- 
 jectured that the stranger, in searching for 
 the game which he had struck down, would 
 lose no time in repairing to the recess: and 
 there was one circumstance which inclined 
 her to believe that she could convince her- 
 self of the fact beyond all possibility of 
 doubt. Viola had forgotten, at the mo- 
 ment of their hasty flight, to secur'e her 
 highly-valued Shakespear. Should any one 
 have explored the spot after their depar- 
 
 D 4
 
 66 TALES OF FAKCY. 
 
 ture, it was not to be questioned that this 
 book, lying in a conspicuous position, 
 would either have been pernnanently ap- 
 propriated, or at least examined, and re- 
 moved from the rocky seat on which it had 
 been deposited. It could perhaps answer 
 no very useful purpose to seek satisfaction 
 too minutely upon this point: but so dis- 
 quieted were the feelings of Lady Earling- 
 ford, that she could not rest without at- 
 tempting to gain some sort of certainty ; and 
 this being the only step immediately in her 
 power, she fixed upon it in preference {o 
 remaininsr totallv inactive. 
 
 At the accustomed time, Yiola, still sad 
 at heart, repaired to rest. Iier mother 
 watched beside her nearly an hour; and 
 then, perceiving that there was no risk of 
 her suddenly awaking, she cauiiously arose, 
 called down a blessing upon her head, and 
 sallied forth on her lonely nocturnal expe- 
 dition.
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. ^7 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 How beautiful is night ! 
 
 A dewy freshness fills the silent air ; 
 
 No mist obscures, nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain 
 
 Breaks the serene of Heaven. 
 
 In full-orbed glory yonder moon divine 
 
 Rolls through the dark blue depths. 
 
 She shines upon the hills and rocks, and casts 
 
 Upon their hollows, and their hidden glens, 
 
 A blacker mass of shade — the breeze is heard 
 
 That rustles in the reeds ; the little wave, 
 
 Which ripples to the shore, and leaves no foam, 
 
 Sends its low murmur far. 
 
 SOUTIIEY. 
 
 Lovely as was the appearance of every 
 object, lighted up by the radiance of a 
 brighter moon, shining in a clearer sky 
 than she had ever witnessed in a European 
 climate, so pre-occupied were Lady Ear- 
 lingford's thoughts, and so rapid her steps, 
 that she maiked nothing but the path she 
 was tracing — aimed at noticing but to pur- 
 sue with u^ost speed tlie nearest road to the 
 spot whither her course wa;> bent. The 
 
 D 6
 
 iS TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 most impressive stillness reigned through- 
 out the island ; the air, though fresher than 
 by day, was so calm, that not a leaf moved; 
 scarcely at distant intervals could the sound 
 be heard of a wave gently breaking upon 
 the shore; every bird seemed at rest; the 
 very insects which so gaily had sported in 
 the sun's setting beams, had now retired 
 to their secret haunts ; and her own foot- 
 falls, light as they were, appeared to her 
 heavy and loud when contrasted with a 
 tranquillity otherwise so profound. 
 
 She at length reached the place whither 
 a curiosity undefinable, but not to be re- 
 pressed, had conducted her; and directing 
 a quick and half- terrified glance towards 
 the seat on which the volume had been 
 placed, a deadly faintness stole over her 
 when convinced that it no longer retain- 
 ed its station 1 She leant against a tree, 
 gasping, and scarcely able to stand ; and so 
 tumultuous were the throbbings of her 
 heart, that she almost fancied she could 
 bear it beat: ''Ail doubt, then, is at an 
 end V* she mentally cried. *' We are in the 
 vicinity, and may, feeble and unprotected 
 as we are, fall into the power, from one mo-
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. -59 
 
 nient to the other, of the unknown being, 
 whoever he may be, by whom, as well as 
 by ourselves, these wilds are haunted. Hor- 
 rible thought ! How shall 1 disguise from 
 my unsuspecting Viola the danger which 
 hovers overs us ! How support the view of 
 her agonizing affright when, as it inevitably 
 must, the fact becomes known to her!*' 
 As these thoughts rushed through her mind, 
 an object, hitherto undescried, lying near 
 the very spot whence the book had been 
 removed, caught her eye. She eagerly ad- 
 vanced, and beheld. a brace of dead birds, 
 of a species similar to that which A^iola had 
 borne to the cave. What might this mean ? 
 Had these been left as an offering of good- 
 will to the unseen owner of the purloined 
 volume ? or had they been accidentally for- 
 gotten ? "At all events,^' cried Lady Ear- 
 lingford, " 1 will not appropriate or even 
 touch these doubtful spoils. They may be 
 designed only as snares to ascertain our still 
 being upon the island ; since, how can the 
 sportsman tell, that the book discovered in 
 so sheltered a recess, may not have lain 
 there for weeks, and have been the property 
 of some European now departed from the
 
 60 tAles of fancy. 
 
 coast? No; I will not leave a trace of 
 this midnight visit; the security of my de- 
 fenceless girl perhaps depends upon the 
 prudence of this moment I I will now re- 
 turn to her, ere she can, I trust, have 
 missed me from her side/* 
 
 This resolution was instantly put in exe- 
 cution, and Lady Earlingford re-traced her 
 steps to the cave with as little molestation 
 as she had quitted it. Viola w^as still asleep. 
 Her mother, without disturbing, took her 
 accustomed place upon the same couch, 
 and shortly afterwards sunk into the same 
 happy state of forgetfulness. 
 
 The following day brought with it no oc- 
 currence of any importance. Lady Ear- 
 lingford, still distrustful, though less agi- 
 tated than on the preceding evening, com- 
 manded her looks and voice sufficiently to 
 ward off from Viola any fresh alarm : yet, 
 she permitted her not, without great repug- 
 nance, to stray beyond the precincts of 
 their cell : and when, towards the close of 
 day, her usual time for indulging in the lux- 
 ury of reading, Viola missed the dear vo- 
 lume which she had neglected to brin^; back 
 from the recess, all her supplications failed
 
 I 
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 6l 
 
 in prevailing upon her mother to sanction 
 her going thither in search of it. Though 
 grieved to oppose so natural a wish. Lady 
 Earlingford was so perfectly aware of the 
 uselessness of such a measure, and so hitle 
 convinced of its safety, that she persevered 
 in her refusal, even with pain to her own 
 feelings. 
 
 Another day dawned upon them ; and 
 the prudent mother, adhering to her plan 
 of secluding Viola as long as possible within 
 the limits of their embowered and almost 
 impervious retreat, enjoined her strictly not 
 to stir, whilst about noon, she herself sallied 
 cautiously forth in pursuit of a necessary 
 supply of provisions. 
 
 Her absence was short; yet, to Viola it 
 appeared endless, — and the iustant she 
 heard the rustle of her approach amongst 
 the underwood, she darted forth to meet 
 her^ exclaiming with looks of transport: 
 *' My mother! my dearest mother 1 We are 
 not alone in the universe ! The blessed 
 sound of a fellow-creature's voice has once 
 more reached these ears 1" 
 
 She was proceeding, when, aghast and 
 trembling, Lady Earlingford seized her
 
 62 TALES OP FANCY. 
 
 hand, and said in a voice hollow from 
 dread. — *' And were you seen, rny Viola?" 
 " No, my dear mother ; nor have I my- 
 self yet beheld the being from whom the 
 voice proceeded. — But imai^ine my de- 
 light ! — The accents were those of gay and 
 innocent childhood. Oh, never, never 
 shall I forget the raptf^re with which 1 first 
 caught the exhilarating sound ! At inter- 
 vals, I even fancied that I could distinguish 
 the echo of a sportive laugh ; and I found 
 myself involuntarily joining in its glee," 
 
 *' Did you hear no answering sound ? No 
 older voice ?'* 
 
 ** Once," replied Viola, *' I half per- 
 suaded myself that from some very distant 
 spot, an anxious and impatient call, or ra- 
 ther shout, was uttered. But either my 
 imagination deluded me, or the person con- 
 tinuing to retreat, was soon beyond the 
 reach of being again overheard.'* 
 
 Lady Earlingford, at the conclusion of 
 this little recital, heaved a sigh, and with 
 an air of utter dejection, sat down upon a 
 low rock at the mouth of the cave, and 
 spoke not a single word. 
 
 After having observed her some minutes
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 63 
 
 with astonishment, Viola found room to 
 place herself on the same seat, and putting 
 one arm affectionately round her waist, 
 said : '' My mother, why this melancholy 
 silence? You disappoint all my cheering 
 hopes ! 1 had fondly flattered myself that 
 my tidings would have brou^^ht only conso- 
 lation to your heart ; I had anticipated the 
 happiness of again seeing upon your dear, 
 dear face, an expression of joy ! Why is it, 
 on the contrary, that your accustomed 
 thoughtfulne'5s seems deepened into a look 
 of positive distress ?*' 
 
 After a short pause, during which Lady 
 Earlingford reflected that the moment ap- 
 peared arrived when it became indispen- 
 sable to dismiss all further reserve, she 
 struggled for composure, and answered : 
 " I will tell you, my dear girl. It seems 
 probable from the particulars which you 
 have related, that we are about to become 
 the involuntary associates of beings with 
 wliose customs, tempers, and prejudices, we 
 are wholly unacquainted. They may con- 
 sider us as intruders, and regard us with an 
 unfriendly eye. They may oppress — nay, 
 even enslave us ! How can we resist them ?
 
 64 TALES OP FANCY. 
 
 Viola — I will now speak to you without 
 disguise. Two days ago, at the recess, it 
 was no enemy of the brute creation from 
 which I so abruptly fled ! In the thicket 
 which you saw me so anxiously explore, I 
 detected a heavy blunt-pointed arrow ; it 
 was not, as in Europe, headed with metal, 
 but with stone, and seemed adapted to the 
 sole purpose of knocking down game. The 
 bird which you humanely endeavoured to 
 preserve had, doubtless, been struck in its 
 flight by this clumsy and imperfect weapon. 
 My dearest child — the conviction tlius 
 forced upon me that we were in momentary 
 danger of seeing ourselves at the mercy of 
 beings who, perhaps, know not what mercy 
 means, almost bereft me of my senses 1 Iq 
 the night, whilst you slept, 1 stole again to 
 the recess. Our book was gone I — but in its 
 place, a sort of commutation seemed tender- 
 ed to us; for on the seat upon which you had 
 rested 1 found an offering of dead game.'* 
 
 Viola listened to these particulars with- 
 out any of the dismay which her mother 
 had anticipated. More in dread of a pro- 
 longation of the state of abandonment in 
 which tUey had hitherto found themselves,^
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 65 
 
 than of any other probable calamity, she 
 cheerfully exclaimed: '' My dear mother, 
 what is there in the relation you have given 
 me to interpret into an omen of evil? You 
 know — alas ! you have had but too much 
 reason to know — the despondency which 
 has hitherto held possession of me ; its 
 gloomy effect upon my temper has made 
 me a scourge rather than a blessing to 
 you 1 — yet, let it tend to prove, that the 
 more cheering view which I am inclined to 
 take of this affair, results not from the ha- 
 bitual buoyancy of my spirits, but from the 
 really strong probability there appears^ that 
 whoever it migiit be who left the game for 
 our acceptance, meant us kindness and en- 
 couragement. No ferocious savage would 
 have shewn such forethought and liberality. 
 My dearest mother, be persuaded, as 1 am, 
 that these islanders are a gentle and bene- 
 volent race: they will succour and serve us ; 
 andj perhaps^ — oh, delicious thought ! they 
 may assist in conveying us to some shore 
 less unfrequented by Europeans; they may 
 be the agents of our restoration to friends, 
 to country, to home, and happiness !" 
 Hope, like sorrow, when breathed forth
 
 66 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 by lips we love, irresistibly communicates 
 a portion of its influence to our own hearts. 
 Lady Earlingford, re-animated by her 
 daughter's prognostics^ and not disdaining 
 to be fortified by her example, felt all her 
 terrors, for a season, allayed; and ventured, 
 though still with timidity, to rest her eyes 
 upon the prospect of a brighter future. 
 
 During the remainder of the day, they 
 could converse on no other subject than 
 that of the fellow-inhabitants whom so 
 many circumstances indicated to be in their 
 vicinity. Viola loved to think, to speak of 
 the infantine voice which in the morning 
 had conveyed such pleasure to her ear. Its 
 tone had proclaimed happiness ; it must 
 therefore be confident of kindness: " And 
 will not those,'* she cried, '' who delight 
 in contributing to the felicity of a child ; 
 who rear it with indulgence, and protect it 
 with fondness — will they not have hearts 
 to treat with generosity, to feel for, and to 
 aid, two helpless strangers, two solitary fe- 
 males, thrown by misfortune upon their 
 coast, and dependent solely upon their 
 hospitality! Oh, my admirable mother! 
 Wherever there are such cordial principles
 
 •THE SHIPWRECK. 6? 
 
 of natural affection— wherever there exists 
 a good and tender parent, there must be 
 hope for the outcast and the afflicted !'* 
 
 Touched by the genuine warmth with 
 which an observation so truly filial was ut- 
 tered, Lady Earlingford pressed her daugh- 
 ter to her bosom^ and said : " You have 
 made a convert of me, Viola ! I cease to 
 believe it possible that we can be in any 
 danger amongst those who, as you remark, 
 have the best feelings of our nature so 
 strongly implanted within their breasts, I 
 still, indeed, want resolution to expose you 
 to the chance of a discovery, preceded by 
 no certainty respecting the sentiments en- 
 tertained towards us by these unpractised 
 natives: but this evening, or to-morrow 
 m.orning, I will undertake the adventure 
 singly; and by the information which I 
 may be enabled to bring back, we will re- 
 gulate our future conduct/' 
 
 " Were I apprehensive,'* said Viola, *'of 
 any disaster likely to attend the expedition^ 
 I should supplicate you to renounce it, or 
 insist upon sharing the same peril. But 
 my trusting heart finds room for no suspi- 
 cion ; and I shall regard your temporary ab-
 
 * 
 
 i 
 
 68 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 sence only as a measure calculated to pro-^j 
 cure us permanent protection, and faithful 
 allies/' 
 
 Emboldened by this suggestion, Lady 
 Eariingford, as soon as the heat ot the day 
 abated, embraced her lovely and animating 
 counsellor, and departing from the cave, 
 took the road leading to the recess. 
 
 She arrived in its vicinity, as on so many 
 former occasions, vviihoul encountering any 
 sight that was not now become tamili;ir to 
 her eye. With a beating heart, however, 
 ere she ascended the last rough step formed 
 by nature in the rock which conducted to 
 the shady retreat, she cast forward an en- 
 quiring glance to assure herself that all was 
 Safe : but what were her sensations when 
 this glance discovered to her two human 
 beings, stretched under the shelter of a ta- 
 marind tree, and, apparently both — Euro- 
 peans ! The one, a man, whose elbow 
 rested on the ground, whilst his hand sup- 
 ported his uncovered and finely-formed 
 head, was deeply absorbed in the occupa- 
 tion of reading, and the book before him 
 was the identical volume which Viola had 
 lost. A bow and arrows were lying beside 

 
 f HE SHIPWRECK. 6^ 
 
 Ilim ; and nestling close to his bosom, slept 
 a child, about four or five years of age, 
 placid as Innocence person liied, and beau- 
 tiful as an infant cupid. 
 
 Lady Earlingford remained gazing some 
 minutes at this int^ resting and unexpected 
 picture, in motionless surprise : the. un- 
 conscious straii2:er neither heard nor saw 
 her, his whole soul seeming engrossed by 
 the pa.i^es he was perusing. The attitude 
 in which he reclined concealed hjs face 
 from her view : but his figure was young; 
 the shape and colour of his hand denoted 
 that it belonged to a iientleniar} ; and there 
 was in his general appearance a gracehilness 
 that indicated the habits of polished life. 
 
 In attempting, at length, to retire, as 
 she hoped, unperceived, Lady Earlmgford 
 struck her foot against a small fragment of 
 loose rock, the noise of which, as it rolled 
 down the steep, attracted the stranger's at- 
 tention, and induced him hastily to turn 
 his head^ Their eyes met— they knew each 
 other instantly; and Lady Earlingford, with 
 an air of pained surprise, of keen mortifi- 
 cation, drew back, and prepared once more 
 to retreat.
 
 70 TALE3 OF FANCY. 
 
 The stranger, meanwhile, had sprung on 
 his feet, and stood a moment irresolutely 
 regarding heri Then, joining his hands in 
 an act of supplication, he wildly conjured 
 her not to go, adding, half reproachfully : 
 " Even in a desert, La(iy Earlingford, is my 
 presence so hateful to you ? Are you 
 sworn to behold me as an enemy even here, 
 where you may never behold any other in» 
 dividual of your species? Is not this too 
 vindictive? Is it not bai'barous —uncha- 
 ritable — unchristian]'' 
 
 " Enmity is not the feeling,*' said Lady 
 Earlingford, *' which influences me. I la- 
 ment the unhappy predicament in which I 
 find you, and sincerely bury all resentment 
 of the past in concern for the present : but 
 can my delaying to go from hence afford 
 you any alleviation ? No, Mr. Fitz Aymer ; 
 you have yourself placed a barrier between 
 us; you have so acted, that neither in this 
 spot, nor in any other, can it be desirable 
 that vv^e should ever meet '/' 
 
 " You lament my situation!" repeated 
 he, with bitterness—" Oh, mockery ! in- 
 human mockery ! What a heart must be 
 your's! How dead to all the social feelings!
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 71 
 
 How cold, stern, and inexorable, must be 
 the nature which, after a calamity such as 
 we have experienced, rejects the only pros- 
 pect that may ever offer of communion 
 with a fellow-being ! Hear me, Lady Ear- 
 lingford,'' added he, «' hear me, and then 
 wonder, if you can, at these reproaches ! 
 Such is my craving for the sight of a human 
 being, that had I, in this solitude, encoun- 
 tered the most abhorred of ruffians — had I 
 met with a murderer, or a madman, I 
 should have hailed his presence with joy ! 
 Any face would hav^e gladdened my eyes — 
 any voice would have warmed my heart 
 that brok^ the loathsome stillness — that 
 gave life to the dreary uniformity of this 
 miserable scene ! Am I more obnoxious 
 to your sight than a wretch such as I have 
 described ?'' 
 
 " This is an inquiry which it must surely 
 be needless to answer. I have blamed you 
 severely, and you too well know with what 
 just reason. But others have spoken oi 
 you with praise; others, to whom you have 
 not given equal cause of complaint, have 
 loudly proclaimed your merits. Ah ! why
 
 7? TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 did you exclude me from the number of 
 those who might have paid you a similar 
 tribute?'^ 
 
 " Probably there may have been exagge- 
 ration both in the praise with whichyou have 
 lieard me mentioned by others, and in the 
 censure cast upon me by yourself.— But, 
 for Heaven sake, Lady Earlingford, banish 
 from your mind, at a moment like this, 
 all remembrance of our past dissentions :— - 
 think of me now, only as of a partner in 
 adversity, who, if he can be of the slightest 
 service to you, will bless you for employ- 
 ing him. Command me, task me to the 
 utmost of my power. There is nothing 
 I would not attempt, — no office however 
 menial — no undertaking however labori- 
 ous, in which I would not joyfully engage 
 to palliate the cruelty of )Our fate, or to 
 lighten the inconveniences with which it 
 must be attended/* 
 
 Srften d in defiance of herself by the 
 friendliness of this language, the rigour of 
 Lady L arlingford's brow began to relax, 
 and she thanked him with the gentlest grati- 
 tude. Quick in observing the advantage 
 
 I 
 
 I
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 7S 
 
 which hehad gained, he besought her not to 
 hasten so precipitately from hioi, and witb 
 an air of the deepest interest, enquired into 
 the particulars of her escape from the 
 wreck. 
 
 She informed him of the means she had 
 adopted to give herself a chance of preserva- 
 tion should the vessel be dashed to pieces ; 
 she described to him the manner in which 
 she had been floated to shore by the tide; 
 and then, without entering into any further 
 details, expressed a wish to be told hovir 
 he had effected his own rescue. 
 
 " Partly," he answered, " by sw imming, 
 and partly by letting myself be drifted to 
 land as I clung to some of the fractured 
 timber of the wreck. I probably reached 
 the shore at a spot very distant from that 
 on which you were cast, else we must ha/e 
 met sooner: but till the day before yester- 
 day, 1 had not the slightest suspicion that 
 the island contained a single inhabitant, 
 either native or foreign, except this child 
 and myself/' 
 
 *' And who/' enquired Lady Earlingford, 
 regarding the lovely boy with admiration
 
 7^ TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 and tenderness, "who is this beautiful 
 creature? You have no younger brother ?" 
 "No; we are wholly unconnected. He 
 is the son of a lady who perished in the 
 wreck. She was in bad health during the 
 whole time we were on board, and seldom 
 appeared amongst the other passengers. I 
 had known her husband before he went to 
 India. He was an officer in my brother's 
 regiment, and I had served as a subaltern 
 under him when I fiist entered the army. 
 This gave me an excuse to seek her ac- 
 quaintance ; and not being very anxious 
 for general society, for I was just recovering 
 from a severe illness, we were almost 
 inseparable companions throughout the 
 voyage; partook of the same meals, and, as 
 invalids, were glad to partake of the same 
 tranquillity. When the dreadful alarm of 
 imminent and general danger resounded 
 through the vessel, she sent for me. 1 bad 
 attached myself particularly to her boy ; 
 and, at that moment of fearful and solemn 
 suspense, she recomiiiended him in lan- 
 guage, which no humaii 1 eing could have 
 heard unmoved, to my pity and protection ; 
 
 I
 
 ITHE SHIPWRECK. 75 
 
 —embraced and blessed bim ; and, with 
 an energy not to be resisted, implored ine 
 to lose no time in making such exertions 
 as might preserve both the child and myself. 
 I staid with her, however, till the last minute. 
 She had been so uniformly friendly to me; 
 there was so much benevolence in her cha- 
 racter, and so much softness in her manners, 
 that it was indescribably painful to me to 
 think of abandoning her. But when at 
 length the ship struck, and an universal 
 burst of horror and despair reached us from 
 the decks, she renewed her supplications 
 •with almost frenzied impatience, and — need 
 I say how reluctantly — I left her [*' 
 
 Affected by the remembrance of so awful 
 a moment, Fitz Aymer paused, and a tear 
 of almost filial regret rolled down his 
 cheek. Lady Earlingford had no power 
 to speak ; the motherless boy was standing 
 Ijeside her; she strained him to her heart, 
 and at that moment, almost hated herself 
 for the severity with which she had first 
 treated his preserver. 
 
 Recovering more self-command, Fitz 
 Aymer presently thus went on : *' IF there 
 was any merit in the struggle which 1 made 
 E 2
 
 T6 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 lo rescue this poor boy, how, more than 
 seven-fold, has it been rewarded ! — His total 
 reliance upon me; — his unreflecting vivaci- 
 ty; his exemption from all anxiety for the 
 future, or disgust of the prrsent, have been 
 perpetual sources of comfort to me. Never 
 did I, till now, experience in its full force 
 the blessing of having something to love,— • 
 the inestimable advantage of being called 
 upon, by motives not wholly personal, to 
 use exertion. Had I been thrown utterly 
 alone upon this shore, so desolate, so deplo- 
 rable would existence have appeared to me, 
 that I scarcely can persuade myself I should 
 have thought it worth making the slightest 
 effort to preserve ! But I try your patience 
 too much by talking so long of myself. 
 Let me now ask, — where have you hither- 
 to been secreted ? Where obtained shelter 
 during the night? — So impervious must be 
 your retreat, or so inexpert my researches, 
 that nothing, I believe, would have brought 
 us within view of each other, had not the 
 anxiety which you probably felt to recover 
 this lost treasure,^' looking at the volume of 
 Shakespear, " conducted you again to the 
 ^ot where you had left it. — Can you forgive
 
 THE SHIPWRECK:. 77 
 
 my usurpation of so tempting a resource ?— - 
 If you knew what a solace it has been to 
 me, I think — nay, I am persuaded, that 
 you would pardon the transgression — even 
 in me!'' 
 
 " Indeed,'* replied Lady Earlingford, '* I 
 pardon it most readily, and can well allow 
 for the force of the allurement. Happily, 
 I have other books to supply its place, 
 and, for the present, am content to leave 
 this in your hands." 
 
 She then acquainted him with her reco- 
 very of some of the effects which had 
 bolonged to her nephew. 
 
 " 1 saw his name,'' said Filz Aymer, '* in 
 the first page of this volume. But tell me. 
 Lady Earlingford — have you the consolation 
 of believing that he survived the loss of the 
 ship?" 
 
 She was on the point of answering him, 
 when, deceived by her look of serenity, he 
 hastily exclaimed: "He lives! — I read it 
 in your countenance ! — Perhaps, even, he is 
 the companion of your solitude ?" 
 
 Had the most glowing meridian sun-beam 
 darted across the face of Lady Earlingford, 
 it could not have been more brightly illu- 
 £ 3
 
 78 TALES OF FANCY, 
 
 mined than it was by this intimation !— 
 The experiment, wild as it was, which it 
 tempted her to try, she scarcely allowed 
 herself the pause of a moment to weigh. 
 The very suggestion that had given birth 
 to such an idea she deemed providential; 
 and answering Fitz Aymer therefore with a 
 sort of ambiguous pleasantry, she said : 
 "That I am not wholly without a compa- 
 nion you will soon be convinced ; but of 
 w hat age or sex, you must be satisfied to- 
 remain ignorant till to-morrow/' 
 
 She would then have bidden him fare- 
 well : but with a renewal of vehemence 
 that almost startled her, he cried : " Can 
 you believe — can you have the inhumanity 
 to expect, that after a banishment so dreary 
 and so absolute from all fellowship wiHi 
 humankind, I can thus calmly subnVit to- 
 hear, that there are others of my race within 
 reach of being known, to whom it is your 
 cruel pleasure to deny me ail access ! Lady 
 Earlingford — you shall not leave me till you 
 have appointed the exact spot, the exact 
 lime when we may meet again ! Oh, ra- 
 ther, far rather, would I see you approach 
 ine with the most inveterate antipalhy--«
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 79 
 
 bear you address me witli the sternest 
 rigour, than be again consigned to the 
 blank, the ahnost maddening solitude which 
 I have hitherto endured/^ 
 
 Lady Earlingford, though but little pleas- 
 ed by the arbitrary tone in which this was 
 spoken, had too much wisdom to exaspe- 
 rate him by a harsh reply, and mildly an- 
 swered : '' Mr. Fitz Aymer^ I know how 
 to feel for your situation ; I know how to 
 excuse the impetuosity of your language, 
 assured as I am, that whatever may be your 
 prevailing faults, that of giving way to vio- 
 lence, when conversing with a woman, 
 would never have been amongst the num- 
 ber, under circumstances less trying to your 
 temper. Recal your good-humour, how- 
 ever, now ; and suffer me to depart in 
 peace. To-morrow, about noon, I will be 
 here again— and not alone. Meanwhile, 
 farewell." 
 
 " But — may I not attend you to your 
 retreat ? May I not, at least durmg some 
 part of the way, be your escort ?'^ 
 
 You tnay^ no doubt; but I much wish 
 that yoii would forbear. You have prof- 
 fered me a thousand services; I ask only 
 E 4
 
 iO TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 for the deference which is due from every 
 mail of honour to the wishes of a female 
 thrown into his power.'' 
 
 There appeared to Fitz Aymer some* 
 thing so extraordinary in the serious oppo- 
 sition thus persisted in to a request so na- 
 tural as his had been, that a suspicion of 
 its motive rushed across his mind, and 
 made his dark eyes flash with delight ! 
 Casting them down to conceal his internal 
 emotion, he drew back; assured Lady Ear- 
 lingford that her will should be his law; 
 bade her good night, and suffered her to 
 depart without hazarding again a single re- 
 monstrance.
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. SI 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 I am too weak 
 For solitiide — any thing 
 Of action, difficuUy, fatigue, or toil, 
 
 —- any thing 
 
 But stillness and this dreadful solitude ! 
 
 SOUTHEY* 
 
 The absence of Lady Earlingford had 
 been so much longer than her daughter had 
 expected, that when she once more beheld 
 her, she threw herself upon her neck with 
 a mixture of agitation and thankfulness that 
 deprived her for some minutes of all power 
 to express her feelings otherwise than by 
 alternate tears, smiles, and caresses. 
 
 *' Never, never again," at length she 
 cried, " must you require me to submit to 
 so long a separation! — Never, never again, 
 dearest mother, must you put my ob^^dience 
 to so severe a trial ! During the greatest 
 part of the time you have been away, I 
 have endured agonies ! What, or who^ my 
 
 E 6
 
 82 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 clear mother, can have detained you such 
 an age ?" 
 
 Lady Earlingford on her road back to the 
 cave, after parting from Fitz Aymer, had 
 fully arranged her future plan of conduct, 
 and was now completely prepared to answer 
 all her daughter's enquiries. 
 
 *' Viola," replied she, " I have to an- 
 nounce to you a circumstance which, if not 
 calculated to afford us much satisfaction, 
 may, 1 trust, by prudence and caution, be 
 productive of no mischief. We are not the 
 only individuals saved from the wreck. 
 Two other Europeans are upon the island/' 
 
 Rapture danced in the clear eyes of Viola 
 on hearinsf these words: " Blessed, blessed 
 intelligence 1" interrupted she. "O, my mo- 
 ther! who are these rescued fellow-exiles ?" 
 
 '* Moderate your expectations, my dear 
 child," resumed Lady Earlingford, " or, 
 great, indeed, will be your disappointment ! 
 One of them is an officer, whom perhaps 
 you may occasionally have seen during the 
 yoyage when we went upon the deck. His 
 name is Fitz Aymer. Do you remember 
 him?" 
 
 " Not in the least. But we went so sel-
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 83 
 
 dom upon deck till evening, and there were 
 so many officers (poor souls !) on board, 
 that i may have passed him, amongst others, 
 a hundred times in the dusk, without know- 
 ing who he was.*^ 
 
 " One great reason, Viola, why I so 
 rarely mingled with the general society in 
 the ship, was the wish I had to avoid en- 
 countering this gentleman. He seldom, it 
 is true, appeared in public, not being in 
 good health : but from the time I heard 
 that he was on board, 1 had a constant 
 dread of meeting him. Our family has had 
 particular cause to complain of him ; and 
 an animosity subsists against him in the 
 mind of your father, which no time pro- 
 bably will ever eradicate. Had i known 
 that he meant to make the voyage in the 
 vessel we sailed in, I would sooner have 
 renounced the chance of obtaining a passage 
 this season, than have embarked with the 
 same captain : I did not however make the 
 discovery early enough to profit by it: but 
 to avoid being forced into any communica- 
 tion with him, I made your studies a plea 
 for living so much in our cabin, and I prac- 
 tised every possible means of eluding him
 
 84 TALES OF FANCY, 
 
 as often as we were forced from our retire- 
 ment. By these precautions, I escaped 
 the pain of treating with marked reserve a 
 person who, I saw, had made a favourable 
 impression upon the rest of the passengers ; 
 and I was spared the unpleasant task of ex- 
 posing to your knowledge a story which 
 could only have excited your disgust. I 
 now allude to it to impress upon your mind 
 the necessity of circumspection. You must 
 behave to him with no outward shew of 
 distrust; for the calamity he has suffered 
 appears to have given unwonted asperity to 
 his character: misfortune softens some, 
 others it irritates: but whilst it is misfor- 
 tune that effects the change, the duty of 
 those who possess more equanimity, is to 
 evince forbearance, and to avoid every cir- 
 cumstance which might aggravate the suf- 
 ferer's misery. I would have you then tes- 
 tify good- will towards Mr'. Fitz Aymer. 
 But his principles are not to be relied upon; 
 and I recommend it to you continually to 
 bear in mind, that there is reason to believe, 
 he is, of all others, the man least fitted to 
 become the friend and protector of a young 
 woman in your position/'
 
 THE SHIPWRECK, S5 
 
 ^^ O, my dear mother," exclaimed Viola, 
 " I have now no wish but to avoid him ! 
 A man who has incurred the iiidii^^nation of 
 my father — whose morals are bad, and 
 whose temper seems but little better, is an 
 object rather to awaken aversion than cu- 
 riosity." 
 
 " Avoid him, my child, you cannot. 
 But, I can point out to you, at once, the 
 means of obviating every objection to your 
 associating with him. He knows that I 
 have a companion, and suspects that Ed- 
 mund EarJingford, your, I trust, less ill- 
 fated cousin, is the person. He saw him, 
 no doubt, repeatedly during the voyage,, but 
 they knew each other too slightly to con- 
 verse, and the chance is, that Mr. Fitz 
 Aymer retains no distinct remembrance of 
 his face. The wardrobe of poor Edmund is 
 completely in our possession ; you are pre- 
 cisely of his height, and though a year or 
 two older, may pass for being of the same 
 age. There is a strong family resemblance 
 between you ; and, should you assent to 
 my proposal, I am persuaded that in per- 
 sonating so youthful a model, you incur no
 
 86 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 chance of detection. Can you subnfiit, my 
 Viola, to so strange a transformation ?** 
 
 *' 1 am wholly indifferent about it," an- 
 swered Viola. "In such a scene as this, 
 what anxiety can I feel as to my appear- 
 ance ? You still will know me, under 
 whatever disguise, and that to me is enough. 
 I have no wish, believe me, to subject my- 
 self to any observation from Mr. Fitz Aymer. 
 Your report of him half tempts me to re- 
 pine, that in his stead, Providence had not 
 preserved some better man. But, my dear 
 nnoiher, was there no reality in the gay 
 voice which 1 heard in the morning? Was' 
 it the coinage of my brain, or something 
 "" supernatural ? Must 1, with Caliban, begin 
 to think, that 
 
 ' The isle is full of noises, 
 ^ Sounds and sweet airs that give delight, and hurt not !' 
 
 Are we on enchanted ground, or did I, 
 verily and indubitably, hear to-day the ac- 
 cents of a sportive child?" 
 
 «* You did. my love. That child is under 
 the protection of Mr. Fitz Aymer. He res- 
 cued it from the sinking vessel, and swam
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 8/ 
 
 with it to shore. The mother of the sweet 
 boy perished in the wreck ; she and her 
 son were, like ourselves, sailing to re-join a 
 husband and a father — but not like us were 
 they spared to each other !'* 
 
 Viola sighed over the fate of the devoted 
 parent, and felt more than ever grateful to 
 the Power which had preserved to her her 
 own. 
 
 " We will adopt the poor little orphan 1" 
 cried slse. *' We will cherish him, my dear- 
 est mother, and strive as much as possible 
 to repair the loss he has sustained ! Oh, 
 now, 1 begin to wish for to-morrow ! Did 
 you not say that it is to-morrow you are to 
 have a second interview with this child and 
 his friend ?" 
 
 " Yes; we are to meet them, as I did 
 to-day, at your favourite recess. I was un- 
 wiiliiig to appoint a nearer scene of rendez- 
 vouz; for till I can better ascertain the dis- 
 position of Mr. Fitz Aymer's mind respect- 
 ing us, I think it good policy to reserve a 
 place of occasional retreat from his society. 
 He is unacquainted with the existence of 
 this cave, and I am by no means solicitous 
 to hasten the discovery.*^
 
 88 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 With revived animation, since now she 
 had learnt the residence upon the island of 
 one human being- whom she and her mo- 
 ther could love, Viola proposed, in order to 
 accustom herself as early as possible to the 
 matamorphosjs, to make her first essay of 
 Edmund's habiliments that very evening. 
 Immediate recourse was therefore had to 
 the friendly chest, and all the requisites for 
 a youth's accoutrement were successively 
 applied to the lamentable purpose of con- 
 verting a graceful, soft, and interesting fe- 
 male, into a shy, down-cast, awkward look- 
 ing boy. 
 
 *' It must be confessed," said Lady Ear- 
 lingford, scarcely knowing, as she regarded 
 her after the strange toilet was completed, 
 whether to laugh or cry, *' it must be con- 
 fessed that till you have learnt to wear this 
 new garb with more ease, and to discard a 
 little of the tell-tale consciousness lurking 
 in your aspect, you have no great reason to 
 thank me for recommending so unfavour- 
 able an exchange ! It has altered the very 
 character of your countenance; banished 
 all its open and artless simplicity, and stib- 
 stituted in its stead a look of sheepish in-
 
 THE SHIPWJiECK. 89 
 
 quietude the most ridiculous I ever wit- 
 nessed ! But perhaps it is fortunate that 
 your face should be in masquerade as well 
 as your person. I am convinced that no 
 one who had only slightly known you ia 
 your usual dress, would recognize you 
 again in your present attire/' 
 
 Viola heard these comments with perfect 
 unconcern. Had she still been an inha- 
 bitant of that world which had smiled on 
 her opening bloom, her feelings might have 
 been different : but in her actual predica- 
 ment, she was reckless how she looked ; 
 and having once consented to adopt the 
 proposed disguise, had no object in view 
 but to habituate herself to wear it with as 
 little inconvenience as possible. She kept 
 it on therefore till the day closed; and con- 
 sented without a sigh to the downfall of 
 her luxuriant tresses. They were deemed 
 both by herself and her mother incongruous 
 with her present appearance ; yet^ that mo- 
 ther, in severing them from the youthful 
 head which they adorned, and on which 
 she had often delightedly, and even proudly, 
 contemplated them, felt a pang of regret.
 
 90 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 which, though ashamed to avow, she 
 scarcely knew how to conquer. 
 
 At tlie appointed moment, the next day, 
 the half-reluctant pair sallied forth towards 
 the recess. Lady Earlingford, sensible that 
 it was their interest to propitiate their new 
 ally, carried with her, in a basket of Viola's 
 construction, an assortment of linen, and 
 whatever else she could best spare from her 
 little mai>azine of European commodities, 
 and deemed most likely to conduce to Mr. 
 Fitz Aymer's comfort. 
 
 " As for our library,'* Viola had observed, 
 •' he has helped himself so unceremoniously 
 to one of its most valuable volumes, that I 
 entreat you, dear mother, not to dismem- 
 ber it for him any further — unless, indeed," 
 she laughingly added, "you chuse to bestow 
 upon him this old Latin Grammar and 
 DicticHiary, and these two or three Persian 
 and Moorish books, which only serve 
 to tantalize us every time we look at 
 them." 
 
 " How generous !" cried her mother: — 
 «« But might not Mr. Fitz Aymer justly 
 wonder that a youth who has been so well
 
 THE SHIPWRECK, 91 
 
 instructed as Edmund Earlingford, should 
 endure to part with such precious lore ?'^ 
 
 ^' Perhaps he might !— 1 had forgotten the 
 respect 1 ought to feel for Latin/' 
 
 Bearing the basket between them, they 
 soon reached the steep path conducting to 
 the place of interview. Fitz Aymer was 
 ah'eady at his post; he stood on the edo^e 
 of the acclivity watchmg ibr their arrival* 
 The instant he caught a glimpse of them, 
 he bounded down the rugged descent, and 
 was at their side. He glanced his eye 
 slightly over Viola, and then darted its gaze 
 eagerly forward, in the vain hope of behold- 
 ing the approach of some other form. An 
 expression of acute disappointment over- 
 spread his features on finding that no one 
 else appeared ; and an awkward silence 
 eiisued, which was first broken by Lady Ear- 
 lingford: "1 have brought you,'' said she, '*a 
 little offering, Mr. Fitz Aymer, which, cir- 
 cumstanced as you now are, 1 am assured 
 will be welcome.^' 
 
 She then apprised him of the contents of 
 the basket ; and before he had time to thank 
 her, enquired for his infant companion.
 
 TALES OP FANCY. 
 
 " He is approaching/* said Fitz Ayrtie?, 
 looking up the path ; '* but, unassisted, the 
 way is not very safe for him. With your 
 pernnission 1 will run and meet him/' 
 
 Then, as if glad of an excuse to quit them 
 a few minuteSj he swiftly retraced his steps 
 along the track he had just descended, 
 leaving Lady Earlingford and Viola leisurely 
 to follow. 
 
 Prejudiced against him, and unwilling to 
 think or to speak of him more than was 
 absolutely indispensable, Viola had neither 
 enquired the age of Fitz Aymer, nor asked 
 any questions as to his figure and appear- 
 ance. The discovery that he not only was 
 young, but had every exterior advantage 
 which afineform, and a manly countenance, 
 full of fire and intelligence, could give him, 
 surprised, but at the first moment, was far 
 from pleasing her. She compared her own 
 borrowed and insignificant semblance with 
 the natural loftiness of his_, and shrunk into 
 nothing at the contrast: " O, my dear mo- 
 ther!** she whispered, '* how he will dis- 
 dain me I" 
 
 " Disdain you^ my Viola? — By what ,
 
 rflE SHIPWRECK* 93 
 
 privilege? Are you not his superior? 
 Where is the human being whom you have 
 ever injured or otf'ended ?" 
 
 Lady Earlingford had spoken with an 
 earnestness that had heightened her colour: 
 and Fitz Aymer on rejoming them, fancied 
 he discerned a species of indignation in her 
 eye which he could alone attribute to his 
 previous neglect of her young fellow-exile. 
 He tried to atone for it by immediately 
 addressing to Viola a few words of kindness 
 and o'ood-wiil : '' I shall be happy," said he, 
 extending towards her his hand, "to become 
 better acquainted with you. You must be 
 aware that there is little 1 can do towards 
 alleviating your situation : but all that is in 
 my power, rely upon my performing witk 
 readiness and pleasure.'* 
 
 Viola's lips moved to thank him, but 
 their accents were inarticulate, and her eyes 
 only, by their expression, distinctly spoke 
 her acknowledgements. 
 
 Turning next to Lady Earlingford, who 
 was caressing the little boy, Fitz Aymer 
 said : *' This youth, then, is your sole com- 
 panion ?'^ 
 
 Lady Earlingford bowed her affirmative ;
 
 94 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 she feared to speak it lest her voice should 
 falter. 
 
 Another interval of silence on the part of 
 Fitz Aymer was presently succeeded by 
 his saying, with some hesitation: "I had, 
 I owMi, encouraged myself to believe, to 
 hope, at least, that your associate was — 
 w^as a very different.object ! — This, I pre- 
 sume, is the owner of the purloined Shake- 
 spear — Edmund Earlingford ?" 
 
 With ail the steadiness she could com- 
 mand, Lady Earlingford confirmed the con- 
 jecture; and Viola, averting her face, con- 
 cealed from him the blush which would 
 tacitly have discredited the imposition. 
 
 All parties, now, during a period which 
 from its length became embarrassing, seemed 
 at a loss what next to say. There was a con- 
 straint in the looks of Lady Earlingford, 
 though her manners were civil, that insensi- 
 bly communicated itself tothe feelings of her 
 new companion. His spirits, so lately raised 
 by discovering that there were other indivi- 
 duals upon the island, now sunk ; and he in- 
 teriially exclaimed: ''How little is my situa- 
 tion improved by the accession of associates 
 such as these! — Here is a woman who
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 95 
 
 evidently hates me; — and the poor boy, 
 whom she keeps under her dominion, has 
 either been taught to entertain the same 
 sentiments, or is so much accustomed to 
 hold her in awe, that he dares not shew any 
 disposition to cordiality! How little/' he 
 repeated, '' do I gain by such companions !" 
 
 Whilst these unpleasant ruminations 
 occupied his mind, Lady Earlingford, ob- 
 serving the discontent that contracted his 
 brow, made an effort to put him into better 
 humour by talking to him of his little 
 protege : 
 
 *' Where do you find shelter,'' said she, 
 " for this poor child at night ?'' 
 
 '* In a species of hut,'' answered Fitz Ay- 
 mer, " rudely constructed — I will not say 
 b}^ my own ingenuity^ but by my own labour 
 —-at no very considerable distance from 
 this spot. It might perhaps amuse you to 
 witness the strange expedients to which 
 I have been obliged to have recourse in 
 order to raise even so slight a i'abric. Will 
 you like to walk with me to see it ?" 
 
 Lady Earlingford accepted the proposal, 
 and they immediately set out. Fitz Aymer 
 would have induced her to lean upon his
 
 ft® TALES OP FANCy. 
 
 arm, but she declined it, alleging, that 
 since her residence upon the island, she was 
 beconrietooexpert and indefatigable a walk- 
 er to require support. To Viola, of course, 
 no offer of the same kind was made: Fitz 
 Aymer treated her without the smallest 
 ceremony, and whilst he carried the basket 
 with which her mother had presented him, 
 she silently followed, leading the little Felix 
 by the hand. 
 
 A walk of about a mile along a border of 
 low land between the mountain and the 
 sea, brought them to a beautiful woody 
 knoll, in the shadiest part of which Fitz 
 Ayn.er had fixed his habitation. Viola, the 
 instant she discerned it, released tlie hand 
 of Felix, and hastening forward, had almost 
 crossed the tlireshold, when, suddenly 
 checking herself, she drew back, looked 
 ashamed at her own precipitancy, and made 
 way for Lady Earlingford to precede her. 
 
 " My good friend,'' said Fitz Aymer, 
 smiling, ''you may enter without being 
 announced ; there is no one within whom 
 your abrupt appearance will surprise or dis- 
 compose ['* 
 
 Y\oh, still mute from unconquerable 
 
 \
 
 THE SHIPWRECK, 97 
 
 timidity, passed her arm through Lady 
 Earliiigford's, and they stepped into the 
 simple edifice together. 
 
 Every thing which they there beheld 
 impressed them with surprise, and involun* 
 tary admiration of the persevering industry 
 of its unassisted constructor. The little 
 tenement, thatched with palm leaves, waB 
 supported upon poles, and walled by a sort 
 of lattice-w^ork formed of the pliant boughs 
 of the bamboo, and lined with cocoa-nut 
 leaves, so disposed as to render its inside 
 impervious to the rays of the sun, without 
 excluding from it the advantages of light 
 and air. A variety of roughly-formed tools 
 ■ — such as hatchets, chisels, &c. made of 
 shells or stones sharpened, and fitted into 
 handles, were scattered about; and a few 
 domestic moveables were completed ; as, for 
 instance, a rustic bench, a table, and the 
 frame of a little bed for Felix. In one 
 corner was Fitz Aymer's own couch — a 
 homely collection of leaves and grass, 
 spread upon the unboarded floor : beside it 
 lay his bow and arrows ; his preparations 
 for constructing a variety of fishing-tackle^ 
 F
 
 9^8 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 and the volume, treasured by him as par- 
 tially as by Viola, which he had made prize 
 of at the recess. 
 
 With uplifted hands and eyes. Lady Ear- 
 lingford, after surveying some time this ex- 
 traordinary retreat, exclaimed : " And have 
 you performed all this, Mr. Fitz Aymer? 
 You whom I have been accustomed to con- 
 sider as a mere self-indulgent idler ! You 
 'who, except when your profession roused 
 you into energy, never knew what action 
 and exertion meant ! Is it possible that 
 you can have done all this ; and done it in 
 so short a time ?'* 
 
 " I have had ample reason,*' said Fitz 
 Aymer, with an air of mortification^ ^' to 
 be convinced that your ladyship never was 
 inclined to judge of me very charitably ! 
 The charge of pursuing a systematic course 
 of self-indulgence, no man can have less 
 justly deserved. I entered the army at 
 eighteen, and have been exposed to much 
 hard and trying service : my health, in 
 many instances, either from wounds, or 
 climate, has suffered severely; I have been 
 a prisoner, and have undergone every priva- 
 
 I
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 99 
 
 tion that a prisoner can experience. If, in 
 the intervals of pain, in the transient periods 
 of remission from military duty and its at- 
 tendant hazards, 1 have partaken with some 
 excess of the enjoyments which my age, 
 fortune, and station in society contributed 
 to render so alluring, ought I to be stigma- 
 tized as a practised voluptuary, averse from 
 every species of manly effort, and wholly 
 fievoted to personal gratification ?*' 
 
 " You have put too harsh a construction 
 upon my words," cried Lady EarHngford; 
 " I meant nothing so injurious to your cha- 
 racter. But will you not allow, that to find 
 in a gay, and somewhat luxurious man of 
 fashion, such as I have hitherto known 
 you ; — one accustomed to attendance, and 
 privileged to toil only in search of amuse- 
 ment ; — to find in such a personage, all this 
 contrivance, all this aptitude for manual la- 
 bour, must appear passing strange ! — Yet, 
 believe me, the wonder 1 experience is far 
 surpassed by respect and admiration.'^ 
 
 " You make me ashamed,'^ cried Fitz 
 Aymer, *'ofthe petulance! have displayed! 
 Forgive me, Lady Earlingford ; and allow 
 something for the tormenting conscious- 
 
 F 2
 
 100 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 ness, that I am under condemnation in your 
 thoughts. — The benevolence of character 
 which towards any one else in my position, 
 would invite you to testify the kindness of 
 a parent, is obviously so chilled in its ope- 
 ration towards me, that almost every sen- 
 tence you utter conveys to my jealous ap- 
 prehension a meaning- of severity and re- 
 proach/' 
 
 To divert his thoughts into a less painful 
 channel, Lady Earlingford now asked for 
 some details respecting the means he had 
 employed to accomplish so much labour, 
 and the impressions of mind under which 
 he had had courage to begin, and pursue 
 his task. 
 
 " The first three or four days," answered 
 he, " of my enforced sovereignty over this 
 untenanted domain, the desperation of my 
 feelings was such, as, at intervals, almost to 
 subvert my reason ! As this horrible dis- 
 temperature of imagination subsided, I sunk 
 into a state of listless, vacant apathy, less 
 painful, no doubt, but equally distinct from 
 the firm, healthful resignation, that could 
 lead to any beneficial enterprize : my fa- 
 culties were without spring, and my views
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 10] 
 
 seemed exclusively confined to the wretch- 
 ed drudgery of maintaining a mere animal 
 existence. In so degenerate a frame of mind, 
 I bless Heaven, I was not formed long to 
 remain. 1 considered, that though in such 
 a climate, and in possession of such abun- 
 dant resources for the support of life, I was 
 in no danger of being impelled to industry 
 by irresistible want ; yet, in the full vigour 
 of understanding and strength, my misery 
 must be encreased by yielding to perpetual 
 sluggishness. Hope was not quite extinct 
 within my breast. A day of release might 
 yet arrive; why not attempt, in the inte* 
 rim, to render my imprisonmeiit less irk- 
 some ? Why, because an outcast for » 
 season from society, degrade myself at once 
 into a savage ? I reflected also, that should 
 any length of time elapse ere the means of 
 escape were afforded me, I should hav^t 
 much to answer for, if I suffered the abi- 
 lities of my young companion to lie wholly 
 dormant. Would he not, ere long, cease 
 to be a dependant? And did it not rest 
 with me to infuse into him the ideas — to 
 accustom him to the habits which might 
 F 3
 
 102 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 render him a friend worth possessing ? I 
 determined to make the experiment; to 
 give him and myself a fixed place of resi- 
 dence ; to furnish and surround it, as well 
 as circumstances would allow, with Euro- 
 pean accommodations ; to preserve him as 
 much as possible from contracting the wild 
 and irregular manners of an uncivilized 
 state; and if, hereafter, nothing better 
 should be attainable, to rest content, if not 
 happy, w^ith the single associate that Pro* 
 vidence should have spared to me. These 
 were the instigations, Lady Earlingford^ 
 which enabled me to accomplish all that 
 you behold ; and from the moment that I 
 begun to labour, I became, comparatively, 
 blessed. But since I have seen you — nay, 
 from the instant that (though unseen) I 
 was assured that I had fellows in misfor- 
 tune upon the island, a sort of feverish agi- 
 tation, an anxiety and impatience have 
 preyed upon my spirits, which have put all 
 my hard-earned philosophy to flight !— and 
 when, at length, I encountered you, and 
 obtained an avowal, that you were noi 
 alone — oh, what were the visions which
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 103 
 
 my fancy drew ! How did I dwell upon the. 
 illusions of my own creation: 
 
 ' Turn them to shape, and give to airy nothing 
 * A local habitation and a name V 
 
 To all but the latter part of this recapitu- 
 lation less of facts, than of feelings, Lady 
 Earlingford and her daughter had listened 
 with unequivocal sympattiy, and the most 
 manifest interest. Its conclusion filled 
 Viola with perplexity, and seizing the first 
 opportunity, whilst Fitz Aymer was at 
 some distance, of speaking to her mother 
 vyithout being overheard, she said: "What 
 can have been the visions, the illusions, at 
 which he so ambiguously hints?" 
 
 Distressed how to answer her, Lady 
 Earlingford was glad that the immediate 
 re-approach of their host gave her an ex- 
 cuse to wave the subject. She herself 
 fully understood to what he had alluded. 
 On finding that she survived — on learning 
 that she had a partner in exile, it was not 
 very unnatural that he should look forward 
 to the appearance of her daughter. Seldom 
 as Viola, during the voyage, had been vi- 
 sible upon deck, Fitz Aymer could not be 
 V 4
 
 104 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 ignorant that she was on board : perhaps, 
 during one of her evening waliis, he had 
 seen her ; perhaps he had heard her ad- 
 mired. Lady Earlingford was but too well 
 aware that beauty possessed over him ati 
 influence the most unbounded: if, thp- 
 roughly sensible of Viola's claim to that 
 distinction, he had buoyed himself up with 
 the hope that it was her whom in his cala^ 
 miry he should meet, the partial mother 
 could not but admit that the disappointa- 
 ment she had prepared for him must have 
 been extreme. Yet, the more obvious wa? 
 that disappointment, the more fervent became 
 her desire to prolong his deception. In any 
 situation, Fitz Aymer was the last mau 
 whom she would have thought herself jus- 
 tified in encouraging to pay attention to 
 her daughter. She believed him to have 
 been of dissipated habits, and thoroughly 
 relaxed opinions. Towards a niece of her 
 husband's, a young married woman of ex- 
 traordinary attractions, his conduct had 
 been reprehensible in the highest degree ; 
 and that lady's brother, a ward as well as 
 nephew of Sir William's, Fitz Aymer was 
 accused of having initiated in scenes of pro-
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 105 
 
 fligacy, and a rage for play, which had nearly 
 ruined liim the second year of his majority. 
 Charged with enormities such as-these, he 
 would have been inadmissii^le beneath Lady 
 Earlingford*sroof in England: here^ though 
 forced into intercourse with him, she could 
 not but deem him the most dangerous asso- 
 ciate that her evil destiny could have cast 
 in Viola's way. 
 
 P 5
 
 106 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 Be of good cheer, youth : — You a man ? You 
 lack a man's heart ! 
 
 Shakespear. 
 
 After bestowing upon the erection of 
 the hut every commendation which it so 
 justly merited, and after a minute exami- 
 nation of all the substitutes for comfort 
 with which its constructor had provided it, 
 Lady Earlingford would have quitted him: 
 but the instant she hinted her purpose, 
 Fitz Aymer's countenance became clouded, 
 and with a degree of emotion which he ap- 
 peared to find unconquerable, he exclaim- 
 ed : *' This then, unfeeling Lady Earling- 
 ford ! this is the unsocial, miserable, and 
 estranged mode of life we are perpetually to 
 lead ! Can you find pleasure in thus closing 
 your heart against all the kinder sensations 
 of humanity ? Can it gratify you to de- 
 press, to distance, to evince this utter want 
 of consideration for the feelings of a victim
 
 THE S^HITWRECK, lOf 
 
 like yourself to calamity? One, who if he 
 has trespassed, has never grown callous in 
 error ! One whose heart, when he first be- 
 held you here, longed to greet you as a mo- 
 ther ! Oh, shew for me a little of a mother's 
 indulgence ! I cannot let you persevere in 
 hating me !" 
 
 What could Lady Earlingford say to sup- 
 plications so urgent ? She cast a glance to- 
 wards her daughter to observe how they 
 appeared to affect her. She was leaning 
 against the door-way of the cabin, contem- 
 plating the youthful pleader with an air of 
 such undisguised concern, that her mother 
 judged she could not too speedily put an 
 end to entreaties which awakened so much 
 commiseration. She therefore said : " I 
 yield to your prayers, Mr. Fitz Aymer, and 
 consent to remain here till evening. You 
 hunger and thirst for society with an ardour 
 which impels you to put more value upon 
 our company than, under any other circum- 
 stances, I believe you would be tempted to 
 assign to it." 
 
 Fitz Aymer thanked her for this con- 
 cession with a warmth that fully proved 
 the high rate at which he prized it ; and
 
 108 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 then, to convince them, he said, that he 
 was not without the means of entertaining 
 visitors, he placed before them some cold 
 game, and a variety of newly-gathered fruit. 
 Lady Earlingford asked him how he had 
 succeeded,, being provided with no flint and 
 steel, in kindling the fire by which the birds 
 were dressed. 
 
 *' I availed myself,'* answered he, *' of 
 the slender knowledge I had acquired upon 
 these subjects from the perusal of voyages 
 and travels; and in lieu of the usual method 
 pursued in Europe, produced a few sparks 
 (not without infinite difficulty, it must be 
 allowed) by whirling the end of a stick ra- 
 pidly round in a hole drilled with the sharp 
 point of a stone in a dry branch of wood 
 which I kept down with my feet. These 
 sparks I fed with dry leaves and grass till 
 they burst into a flame, which, in a place 
 abounding as this does with fuel, it was 
 easy to keep up." 
 
 Their repast, whif^h, though not very 
 gay, was at least uiiembittered by dissen- 
 sion, being ended, Lady Earlingford pro- 
 posed adjourning to the margin of the sea : 
 V It is always cool/^she observed, *' under
 
 THE SHIPWRECK, 109 
 
 the shelter of the cliffs; and even Edmund, 
 now, is become fond of a ramble upon the 
 sands/* 
 
 " Was he ever otherwise ?" 
 
 '' On our first arrival here, he attached so 
 many dreadful recollections to the sight of 
 the sea, that no object could to him be 
 more abhorrent. Habit has worn away in 
 a great degree this sensitive repugnance; 
 and, of late, our evening strolls upon the 
 shore have afforded us nearly equal plea- 
 
 sure/' 
 
 " This should remind you, dear Madam,*' 
 said Fitz Aymer, significantly, '' that anti- 
 pathies are to be overcome, if the individual 
 by whom they are entertained is but willing 
 to combat against them. *' 
 
 No answer was made to this observation; 
 and, presently, in the same order as before, 
 they quitted the cabin. 
 
 As they leisurely paced along : " Is it not 
 remarkable,^' said Lady Earlingford, " that 
 in a climate where the air, though pure, is 
 so hot, there should be no appearance of 
 venemous insects or reptiles?*' 
 
 " The observation is just,'* answered 
 Fitz Aymer, "as it relates to every thing
 
 110 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 but ants. Of these, an intolerable number 
 annoys me every night ; and to poor Felix 
 they have been so troublesome, that, till I 
 constructed for him the little bed-frame 
 which you saw, in order to raise him some 
 height from the ground, he scarcely slept a 
 moment undisturbed. When the rainy sea- 
 son sets in, I flatter myself these diminu- 
 tive plagues will retreat to their subterra- 
 neous nests/' 
 
 " The rainy season ?" repeated A^iola. 
 
 " There can be very little doubt,'^ re- 
 sumed he, " that we shall experience such 
 a season. From the situation of this island 
 on the southern side of the equator, its pe- 
 riodical vicissitudes of weather, in all pro- 
 bability, resemble those of the southern 
 parts of Africa and America, where the 
 winters and springs correspond with the 
 summers and autumns of Europe. I have no 
 means of ascertaining our exact latitude : 
 but a variety of circumstances lead me to 
 conclude it to be such, that, from February 
 to August we may, at intervals, expect 
 very heavy fails of rain, accompanied by 
 frequent storms of thunder and lightning." 
 
 <* I am sorry for it," cried Lady Earling-
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. Ill 
 
 ford. ** I had hoped that we were placed 
 here in a region of almost uninterrupted se- 
 renity: the temperance of the elements 
 contributed more to reconcile me to the 
 spot than all its other advantages. Can 
 you form any estimate, Mr. Fitz Aymer, of 
 the extent of our island ?" 
 
 " In my progress round its shore, I have, 
 upon a rough computation, calculated it to 
 be about four or five miles in circumfer- 
 ence. It may be more, for I am not quite 
 certain that I ever quite accomplished its 
 circuit.'* 
 
 " Would it," enquired Viola, apprehen- 
 sively, " would it, in calm weather, be 
 very difficult of approach for a European 
 vessel ?" 
 
 This was not a question which Fitz 
 Aymer felt very willing to answer. The fact 
 is, there had appeared to him a tremendous 
 surf all round the island, and no safe an- 
 chorage near any part of it, the whole shore 
 being, as well as he was able to judge, sur- 
 rounded by a steep coral rock. Abreast of 
 a river, however, which he had discovered 
 at the back of the isle, a boat he fancied 
 might venture to row between the breakers,
 
 119 TALES OP FANGY. 
 
 and get safely to land. This conjecture be 
 communicated to his anxious auditors, and 
 it served to keep alive a faint hope of future 
 deliverance. 
 
 As evening drew near, Lady Earlingford, 
 reminding Fitz Aymer that there was no 
 moon^ expressed a wish to direct her steps 
 towards her accustomed resting-place: she 
 acknowledged to him that this was a cavern 
 amongst the rocks ; and the approach to it, 
 she added, was so steep and intricate, that 
 if they deferred their return to it till the 
 short and feeble twilight wholly failed 
 them, they should be in danger not only of 
 losing. their way, but of breaking their 
 necks. 
 
 " How do you fill up the long, long 
 evening hours?" enquired Fitz Aymer, 
 " Are you able to sleep as soon as it is 
 dark ?" 
 
 '' We are not driven to that expedrent 
 by wanting light to employ ourselves. We 
 have invented what we flatter ourselves is 
 a very ingenious sort of lamp, which we 
 feed with cocoa-nut oil, and which affords 
 us the power of reading nearly as well as we 
 could by a candle. To you, therefore, as 
 
 I
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. \15 
 
 you will find when you examine your 
 basket, we have made over the greatest por- 
 tion of our European stock of wax lights.*^ 
 
 " Ten thousand thanks ! They come at 
 a welcome moment. Tiii huely, having 
 neither book, nor any other means of se- 
 dentary amusement, I wished only to gain, 
 by fatigue through the day, tlie power of 
 sleeping away the hours 1 was compelled to 
 spend in darkness. But 1 detain you, Lady 
 Earlingford, and if your road is so rugged, 
 it is dangerous to let you lose time. I 
 could, however, ensure you a much safer 
 walk to your cell, if you would allow me to 
 attend you. You know not how expert dk 
 mountaineer I am become.^^ 
 
 " Would you," said Lady Earlingford, 
 " leave poor Felix alone ?'^ 
 
 *' O, no; I would carry him. Custom 
 has so well reconciled me to that measure, 
 that go where I will, rather than make him 
 unhappy by seeming to desert him, I con- 
 vey him in my arms with scarcely a con- 
 sciousness of the burthen. Let me, then, 
 be your escort this evening.'* 
 
 When any thing is solicited with impor-
 
 114 . TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 turiity which we have no power efFectuallj 
 to refuse, our compliance is rather passive, 
 than either gracious or prompt. Such now 
 was Lady Earlingford's. Her assent was 
 merely given because she suspected that 
 whether it was obtained or denied, Fitz 
 Aymer would accompany them, and she 
 wished at least that he should suppose 
 she did not imagine herself left without an 
 option. 
 
 " Since you are so good," she cried, *'a9 
 to volunteer this service, I will not abso- 
 lutely, decline your attendance: but I am 
 really sorry for the fatigue you are so unne* 
 cessarily undertaking/^ 
 
 " Fatigue ! What is the fatigue I hav9 
 endured to-day? Have I not spent it in 
 repose and indulgence ? Oh, when have I 
 enjoyed such a day! Dear Lady Earling- 
 ford, you must not deny me its counter- 
 part to-morrow. I can bear no more soli- 
 tary meals ! You must, from this time, let 
 me be your constant purveyor, and, at our 
 future banquets, either your guest, or your 
 host. I will not intrude upon your morn- 
 ings. My own shall be devoted either to
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 115 
 
 the pursuit of game, or to fishing: but my 
 evenings — my mid-day hours — Lady Ear- 
 lingford;, they must be spent with you !" 
 
 " There is no part of speech/* replied 
 «be, forcing a smile, *' which you seem to 
 remember more accurately than the imp€- 
 rative mood !" 
 
 " Pardon, pardon me, I entreat ! I blush 
 to have provoked the remark : but — may I 
 say it ? — there is in your aspect, in your de- 
 portment towards me, so little appearance 
 of a genuine disposition to shew me any 
 favour, that despairing of success if I plead 
 too humbly^ I fall into the opposite extreme 
 of expressing myself too arrogantly. But 
 you shall find, dear Madam, that in propor- 
 tion as you relax in rigour, I shall improve 
 in courtliness. Believe me, indulgence 
 will not make me an encroacher/^ 
 
 This dialogue passed whilst they were 
 pursuing their way to the cave. On reach- 
 ing it, there was still light sufficient to 
 enable Fitz Aymer to discern its entrance : 
 but without making any attempt to explore 
 its interior, he sat a few minutes conversing 
 with them upon their terrace; and then, 
 bidding them good night, after reminding
 
 1I6 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 them of their engagement to dine with him 
 again on the morrow, he departed. 
 
 The silence of Viola throughout the day, 
 whether originating from excess of shyness, 
 or resulting from dislike of their new asso- 
 ciate, had been equally remarkable. Lady 
 Earlingford was anxious to ascertain its 
 precise cause ; and as soon as Fitz Aymer 
 had left them, she said : " Your spirits, I 
 perceive^ my dear child, are rather sunk 
 than raised by the reinforcement which our 
 party has received. You are not yourself, 
 this evening ; you have not been yourself 
 the whole day. Tell me, is the presence 
 of Fitz Aymer painful to you ? What ina« 
 pression has he made upon your mind?'^ 
 
 Viola hesitated a moment, and then an- 
 swered : " A melancholy one, my dear mo- 
 ther. I never can look at him without la- 
 menting that a man so capable of exciting 
 interest, should be so much less deserving 
 than he appears. But that is not all," con- 
 tinued she, with agitation : " I abhor my- 
 self in this disguise 1 It takes from me all 
 courage to raise my eyes; it gives me the 
 feelings of an impostor, and it deters me, 
 aim ostcontinually, from venturing to open
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 117 
 
 tny lips, lest the first sentence I utter, nay, 
 the very sound of my voice should lead to 
 a discovery of the deception we are prac- 
 tising. Under this odious garb, I have 
 neither the dexterity, alertness, and enter- 
 prize of a boy ; the consequence and dignity 
 of a man ; nor the usual claim to deference 
 and attention of a woman. I am a mere 
 cypher; a poor, helpless insect, who, it is 
 evident^ will never awaken the slightest 
 degree of consideration." 
 
 Lady Earlingford could almost have 
 smiled at the ill-disguised pique against 
 Fitz Aymer which dictated these repinings. 
 Accustomed, whenever she had been in the 
 society of young men, to be treated wnth 
 distinction and observance, A ioia, though 
 not vain, was conscious of her attractions, 
 and the novel circumstance of being so en- 
 tirely overlooked, was as depressing to her 
 spirits, as humiliating to her pride. Lady 
 Earlingford felt for a weakness which, at 
 Viola's age, was too natural to be arraigned 
 with severity ; she had not yet lost the re- 
 membrance of her own youth, and secretly 
 admitted, that it would be difficult to place
 
 118 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 a lovely and accomplished girl, habituated 
 to admiration, in a more mortifying and 
 trying situation. Time, however, she trust- 
 ed, would reconcile her to Fitz Aymer's 
 neglect: perhaps^ when he knew her better, 
 the disinterestedness of her temper^ the at- 
 taching qualities of her heart, her sense and 
 cultivation, might win his regard^ and in- 
 duce him to treat her, even as Edmund 
 Earlingford, with more attention. These 
 were probabilities which, when suggested 
 by her mother^ somewhat soothed Viola's 
 wounded spirit; and whilst their impression 
 lasted, she calmly sunk to sleep. 
 
 At the moment when Fitz Aymer, the 
 next day, conjectured that Lady Earlingford 
 and her companion would be setting out for 
 his cabin, he ascended to the platform 
 adjoining their retreat, in order to accom- 
 pany Ihem during the walk. Viola, seated 
 upon thelurf in the shade, was weaving a 
 sort of hat of the same materials as the 
 baskets which she had so ingeniously 
 fabricated. Fitz Aymer stood looking at 
 her a considerable time, but scarcely spoke. 
 The delicacy of her hands,— the softness of
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 119 
 
 her countenance, and the heightened bloom 
 which his observation brought into her 
 cheeks, gave her. in defiance of her dress, 
 an appearance so truly feminine, that, lost 
 in wonder, he internally exclaimed: " What 
 a creature to devote to a hfe of warfare !■— 
 to turn adrift into the scorching plains of 
 India ! — The very first month of military 
 duty in such regions would have demolish- 
 ed him, and the shipwreck which has 
 snatched him from such a profession, he 
 ought to regard as a providential intervention 
 in his favour. — 1 have a very faint recollec- 
 tion of him on board the ship: but I had 
 fancied him at once darker complexioned, 
 and more robust. This, however, would be 
 the place of all others in which to teach 
 him enterprize — to season and embrown 
 him. Clambering, as I do, up hill and 
 down, — exposing himself to the sun, or 
 bufFetting against the wind, he would soon 
 lose that fragility of aspect which in a boy 
 excites both pity and contempt. I will 
 accompany, and accustom him to haunts of 
 savage sublimity in the centre of the island, 
 of which he probably has at present no idea; 
 —I will instruct him to use a bow — to 

 
 ISO TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 defy fatigue, and to conquer difficulties. 
 He is now good for nothing but to weave 
 baskets, and live under the shelter of his 
 aunt's wing/' 
 
 Lady Earlingford at that moment came 
 forth from the cave, and Fitz Aymer, after 
 the greetings of the day were over, asked 
 vvhetherhemightbe allowed to viewtheinte- 
 rior of her retreat ? She led the way towards 
 it, saying : ", We have not the merit, like 
 you, of having been the architects of our 
 own dwelling; the hand of Nature had pre- 
 pared it for us : all that was required on our 
 part to enjoy within it gratitude and happi- 
 ness, was a spirit more resigned to the fate 
 that has made it our home." 
 
 '' Your temporary home, only, I trust !'^ 
 cried Fitz Aymer. " Hope never deserts 
 my bosom ; — let it, dear Madam, always be 
 the inmate of your's.'' 
 
 In their way after this to the hut, Fitz 
 Aymer made some advances towards be- 
 coming acquainted with Viola, which, 
 however, she bashfully shrunk from. All 
 that he said sounded to he r harsh and 
 unfeeling. He told her that he meant to 
 attempt the construction of a raft, and asked 
 
 J
 
 M^hether she would go with him on a fishing 
 expedition ? He exhorted her to take longer 
 rambles, and to habituate herself gradually 
 to more exertion ; — and ended by saying, 
 that if she would try her skill as an archer, 
 he would answer for it, that, before they 
 had been a week longer upon the island, 
 she w^ould be as good a sportsman as 
 himself. She listened in silence ; — some- 
 times half tempted to smile at the serious- 
 ness with which he recommended these 
 Amazonian exploits ; and at others, though 
 conscious of her folly, hurt by the familiarity 
 of his tone and language. 
 
 They spent the rest of the day together,, 
 and, at night, Fitz x\ymer again saw them 
 safe to the cave; sat with them some time 
 at its entrance, and went away in perfect 
 good humour, secure of meeting them agaip 
 on the morrow. 
 
 Little change now occurred in their 
 mode of life for several days. As time de- 
 veloped to Lady Earlingford the better 
 parts of his character,— his warmth of heart, 
 his activity of mind, and openness of tem- 
 per, her reserve insensibly diminished; and 
 from the moment he perceived that she
 
 129 TALES OP FANCY, 
 
 began to place some confidence in him, the 
 gratitude he evinced, and the boundless de- 
 votion to her service which he manifested, 
 powerfully aided the conversion of distrust 
 into friendship and reliance. 
 
 His progress with V^iola was slower. She 
 dreaded his representations on the subject 
 of what he termed her indolence of habits. 
 Whenever they met, he had some project to 
 propose, some new device to communicate, 
 with the hope of stimulating her to partici- 
 pate in his own love of action. The raft 
 which he had purposed to set afloat, he 
 informed her, ere long, was completed ; 
 and urged by his repeated importunities, 
 she at length consented to go with him to 
 the water side and look at it. It was com- 
 posed of pieces of bamboo strongly lashed 
 together, and secured to the shore by a rope 
 of twisted grass. 
 
 *' What think you, Edmund/' cried Fitz 
 Aymer, " of this simple species of vessel? 
 Should you like to see me take a little 
 voyage upon it ?** 
 
 "Not at all!— It seems firmly enough 
 put together, but must be extremely danger- 
 ous to stand upon/'
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 123 
 
 " That is an objection," resumed Fitz 
 Avmer, '* which would much better become 
 Lady Earlingford than you, — Sink orswim^ 
 however, — off I go !" and thus saying, he 
 loosened the raft from its fastening, sprung 
 upon it, and pushing it from the shore, 
 cried, as he floated along: "If any evil 
 betides me, Edmund, be sure you sing my 
 requium ! I shall haunt you else continually 
 in the shape of a Walking Raft." 
 
 Viola turned from him, disconcerted by 
 his sarcasms, frightened at his rashness-, — 
 yet almost wishing that she had possessed 
 resolution to encounter with him all the 
 hazards of the enterprize. 
 
 Adroitandcollected, Fitz Aymer managed 
 his perilous bark so ably, that neither acci* 
 dent nor perplexity attended his excursion. 
 At the accustomed hour he joined Lady 
 Earlingford, safe, and in excellent spirits ; 
 absolved Viola from the duty of chanting 
 his dirge, and contributed an admirable dish 
 of fish to their repast. 
 
 He had, fromthe beginning of their inter- 
 course, so regularly adhered to the practice 
 of coming to escort them to the cabin before 
 dinner, that his approach was oow consi*. 
 
 69
 
 124 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 dered as the signal for setting out, and his 
 attendance regarded as a matter of course^ 
 
 About a week after the adventure upon 
 the raft, he failed however for the first time 
 to appear at his wonted hour. Lady Ear- 
 lingford knowing what long rambles he often 
 took, and how much fatigue he underwent 
 in various ways, accounted for his absence 
 by concluding that weariness had over- 
 powered him, and that he meant on the 
 present occasion to exempt himself from a 
 trouble which only his own good nature 
 could ever have induced him to think 
 necessary: "It was selfish," added she, 
 " so long to let him perform this super- 
 fluous ceremony. We will go to him to- 
 day, Viola, without waiting to besought.-— 
 I would not have him suppose me exacting 
 and punctilious." 
 
 Viola said very little : but she looked 
 unusually serious, and a secret dread occu- 
 pied her mind of some fearful disaster. 
 They descended from their retreat with as 
 much swiftness as the steep avenue to it 
 would permit, and in half the usual time 
 reached the cabin, and entered it. Fitz 
 Aymer was not there. — None of the cus-
 
 THE shipwreck/ 125 
 
 ternary preparations for their meal had been 
 made. Nothing announced his having ap- 
 proached the humble dwelling since early 
 morning. AH looked forlorn, deserted, and 
 melancholy. 
 
 Surprised, and now somewhat alarmed. 
 Lady Earlingford turned to Viola, and said : 
 ** What can be the meaning of this? I 
 almost fear that some accident has befallen 
 to him/' 
 
 Viola could not speak. With an air of 
 the deepest consternation, she stood a few 
 seconds mournfully looking round her^ 
 every object her eye rested upon remind* 
 ing her of him to whom she owed so many 
 cheering hours ; of him whom she accused 
 herself of having often treated with such 
 petulant ingratitude, and whom it was now 
 but too possible some new calamity might 
 have torn from their society for ever ! 
 Suddenly the remembrance of the detested 
 raft occurred to her. She uttered a cry of 
 terror, and rushing out of the cabin, flew to 
 the spot where a few days before she had 
 seen it moored. It was still there : " Hea- 
 ven be praised ! Heaven be thanked T' she 
 fervently ejaculated, " Whatever may de- 
 g3
 
 126 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 tain hitHj he, at least, is safe from the perils 
 of that treacherous element !'* 
 
 She turned to retrace her steps* to the 
 cabin, and had almost reached it, when the 
 sight of blood upon the grass struck a 
 dreadful chill to her heart, and the appear- 
 ance of Felix, vveepinj; and scared, con-- 
 firmed her worst surmises: *^ Speak, Felix I'' 
 cried she — " speak, dear boy ! Tell me 
 where he is ! Teli me what has happened 
 to him !" 
 
 '* Oh, he bleeds, and is so badly hurt !*' 
 tic!a:ni"d the chM, *' Come to him, Ed- 
 mund ; come and try to dd him good. He 
 is there.'" And the boy pointed to the 
 
 cabin. 
 
 Viola darted forward, and quick as light- 
 ningj stood at Fitz Aymer's side. He was 
 seated on his lowiy bed, tearing up some of 
 the linen with which Lady Earlingford had 
 supphed him, to make bandages for a se- 
 vere wound in his leg. It still bled pro- 
 fusely ; and sick almost to faintness, Fitz 
 Aymer scarcely had strength for the task he 
 had undertaken. 
 
 *' O, let me help you V cried Viola, in 
 an accent of mingled pity and affright.
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 137 
 
 " Do, my dear Edmund/' languidly an- 
 swered he. "I am too much weakened by 
 loss of blood to have power to help myself.'*^ 
 
 He fell back upon his couch as he spoke, 
 and closing his eyes, Viola, on casting her 
 own timidly upon his face, fancied, from 
 the ghastly hue which overspread it, that 
 he either was dying or dead. Words are too 
 feeble to describe the horror she experi- 
 enced ! — She sunk upon her knees beside 
 him ; she called upon his name in tones of 
 piercing anguish ; " Friend — brother — com- 
 forter!" she exclaimed; and whilst pour- 
 ing forth these epithets, whilst ejaculating 
 prayers for his restoration, and alternately 
 Ch:i5!ig his temples and his hands, the 
 feeble beatings of his pulse were the only 
 indications she perceived that he still sur- 
 vived. She now started up, looking wildly 
 around for water ; and returning the next 
 minute, she sprinkled his face, and again 
 kneeling, raised his head, and applied the 
 cool liquid to his lips. Its freshness re- 
 vived him. He looked up; thanked her, 
 Galled her his kind Edmund; and in a short 
 time a slight tinge of colour again re-visit^d 
 his cheek, 
 
 G 4
 
 1^8 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 Is it not now the hour, 
 
 The holy hour, when to the cloudless height 
 
 Of yon starrM concaTe climbs the fulUorb'd moon. 
 
 And to this nether world in solemn stillness 
 
 Gives sign that to the listening ear of Heaven 
 
 Religion's voice should plead ? The very babe 
 
 Knows this ; 
 
 ' his little hands 
 
 Lifts to the Gods, and on his innocent coucb 
 Calls down a blessing. 
 
 Mason. 
 
 Lady Earlingford, filled with amaze- 
 ment by the abrupt exit of her daughter 
 from the cabin, had hastened in pursuit of 
 her, but not expeditiously enough to ascer- 
 tain which direction she fled in, and, con- 
 sequently, not expeditiously enough either 
 to accompany or detain her. She had since 
 wandered at a venture from place to place, 
 calling anxiously upon her name; and, at 
 last, terrified and breathless^ re-entered the 
 hut, in the faint hope of finding Fitz
 
 THE SHIPWRECK, 129 
 
 Aymer returned, and of obtaining through 
 him assistance in recovering her fugitive. 
 
 Every thought unconnected from the si- 
 tuation in which she found him, was ba- 
 nished the instant she beheld his pallid and 
 suffering countenance. With an activity 
 that was only to be surpassed by the ad- 
 mirable presence of mind which accompa- 
 nied it, she performed for him all the of- 
 fices of a surgeon with all the tenderness 
 of a mother. Fitz Aymer knew not how 
 to express the deep gratitude he felt : he 
 blessed her, he repeatedly raised her hand 
 to his lips; and as he looked at her, and 
 acknowledged the relief which he owed to 
 her judicious kindness, his eyes glistened 
 with tears. 
 
 Viola, on the entrance of her mother, 
 had discontinued her own services, and re- 
 treated to the door of the cabin, where, 
 seated on its threshold, poor Felix, silent 
 and disconsolate, remained alone, looking 
 from time to time with dismay on the traces 
 of blood upon the ground. Viola drew him 
 to a little distance from the hut, and sitting 
 down with him upon the grass, endeavour- 
 G 6
 
 130 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 ed to draw from him some account of the 
 manner in which the accident had happen- 
 ed. AH that she could comprehend from 
 his imperfect detail, was : that having been 
 out many hours (FitzAymer being that day 
 less successful than usual as a sportsman), 
 and growing tired, the child had extended 
 himself upon the ground to sleep, in a place 
 which his friend deemed so extremely inse- 
 cure, that, instead of calling to him, and 
 suddenly awakening him, he had attempt- 
 ed, the instant he perceived his situation, 
 to descend precipitately from a steep rock 
 on which he was standing, in order to bring 
 the thoughtless boy away in his arms. The 
 agitation with which he hurried down for 
 this purpose, took from him his wonted 
 firmness of tread ; his foot slipped, and in 
 falling from the height of many feet on the 
 stony ground, he had struck and lacerated 
 his leg so violently against a sharp projec- 
 tion in the rock, that the agony he suffered 
 prevented, during a considerable interval* 
 his being able to rise and pursue his pro- 
 gress towards his sleeping charge : '* When 
 he awoke me/* concluded the child, ** he
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 131 
 
 had tied a handkerchief round his hurt, but 
 
 it was all bloody — and he bled the whole 
 way home V* 
 
 " And did this happen," enquired Yiola, 
 "^ when you were very far off? Had he a 
 long way to come ?'* 
 
 '* O, yes ; / thought it a long way^, for 
 I was tired and hungry; and I am sure he 
 must have thought it long, for though his 
 leg was so bad, he would carry me/* 
 
 Viola now led the lovely boy back into 
 the cabin, anxious to procure for him some 
 nourishment. Fitz Aymer held out his 
 hand to her as soon as she appeared, say- 
 ing: "1 never shall forget, my dear Ed- 
 mund, the kindness you have shewn me. 
 You are not quite so skilful a nurse as your 
 aunt : but you have discovered no less feel- 
 ing ; and the interest which you have taken 
 in my misadventure, I own, surprised as 
 much as it gratified me/' 
 
 " Surprised you '/' repeated Lady Ear- 
 lingford. '' Did you then imagine that Ed- 
 mund was without humanity ?'* 
 
 " Nothing, 1 believe/' answered he, 
 smiling, ** would have called forth any vi- 
 sible sign of humanity towards 7ne, but
 
 i32 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 the sight of this miserable bleeding leg! 
 Edmund has not hitherto looked upon me 
 with a friendly eye ; but hereafter, I hope, 
 he will love me better!" 
 
 Viola averted her face, and without an- 
 swering, bent over the little boy, whom she 
 busied herself in assisting to cut the food 
 which she had just placed before him. 
 Fitz Aymer, never surprised at her tacitur- 
 nity, though often chagrined by it, dropped 
 the subject, and looking towards Felix, 
 said: " I must take that little fellow out 
 with me no more when my rambles are 
 likely to be of any extent. He gets into all 
 sorts of perilous situations whilst I am in 
 pursuit of game ; and some day or other, 
 instead of bringing home dead birds, I 
 shall have to bring home a dead boy ! Will 
 you allow him, Lady Earlingfordj to re- 
 main under your protection on these occa- 
 sions?*' 
 
 *' Most readily. But flatter not yourself 
 that there will be any necessity to commit 
 him to my care, on this account, for many 
 days. You must resign yourself to the pros- 
 pect of, at least, a week's confinement.^* 
 
 *' A week ! And in the name of mercj,
 
 \ 
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 133 
 
 how am I to fill up the lonely, tedious in- 
 terval ?*' 
 
 " You are not veri/ apprehensive that we 
 shall neglect you in your misfortune ! Be- 
 sides, you shall have the use of our whole 
 library.'* 
 
 ** Books are of no value to me now, in 
 comparison to society. 1 always, you well 
 know it, dear Madam, looked upon the in- 
 stant when I discovered you in this wilder- 
 ness as the most auspicious of my life ! 
 If such was the joy which your presence 
 gave me then — then, when I could but 
 doubtfully speculate upon your future 
 friendliness — what must it be notv when 
 you have testified for me such goodness, 
 such generous concern ?'' 
 
 Lady Earlingford imposed silence upon 
 him, assuring him that if he did not endea- 
 vour to keep himself very tranquil, he 
 might bring on inflammation, and materi- 
 ally retard his own recovery. She placed 
 within his reach some cooling fruits, pro- 
 mised not to leave the cabin till she saw 
 him better; and then sat down to partake 
 with Viola of the refreshment they both so 
 much required.
 
 134 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 As evening approached, Fitz Aymer, 
 though he forbore all complaint, grew so 
 restless, his hands felt so burning, and his 
 eyes looked so heavy, that Lady Earhng- 
 ford, with true maternal anxiety, resolved 
 to watch by him during the night. She 
 explained not to Viola her motives for this 
 determination; but simply telling her, that 
 his accident having made him so helpless, 
 it would be unfeelinc:: to leave him with- 
 out attendance, she desired her to repair to 
 the cave, and to take Felix with her, in 
 order to keep every thing perfectly quiet 
 around the patient, 
 
 Viola never disputed a command from 
 her mother: but she looked grieved at 
 being sent away ; lingered some minutes, 
 and then, slowly approaching Fitz Aymer, 
 bade him good night, and expressed an ear- 
 nest hope of finding him better in the morn- 
 ing : 
 
 *' Thank you, my dear boy,'* cried he, 
 " thank you for this, and every other in- 
 stance of your good will/* He then shook 
 hands with her, and Viola, startled at the 
 feverish heat of his skin, retreated, sad at 
 hearty and made way for the approach of
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 135 
 
 Felix. Fitz Aymer embraced him — bade 
 him not stir from the side of Edmund — 
 blessed, and affectionately dismissed him. 
 
 On the outside of the cabin door, Viola 
 paused to take leave of her mother. It was 
 the first time since they had been upon the 
 island that they had agreed to so long a 
 separation, and the parting was painful to 
 them both : but Lady Earlingford, sensible 
 that her motives for decreeing the measure 
 were sufficiently important to outweigh all 
 trivial and personal objections, bore the 
 prospect of a transient absence with better 
 courage than her daughter: " My dear 
 child," cried she, as the dejected girl hung 
 round her, *' you teach me almost to re- 
 gret — almost to wish I could retract, the 
 promise I have given to remain here !** 
 
 " Oh, no^ no ! dear mother ! Not for 
 the universe would 1 have you retract it ! 
 I am willing to go— perfectly willing — 
 only-'' 
 
 " Only what, my love?" 
 
 *' I don't know what I would have said. 
 But, my dear mother, may I be here to- 
 morrow, early ?" 
 
 ** As early as you please*"*
 
 136 TALES OF PANCY. 
 
 " Then, now, I think, I will leave you. 
 Good night — good night, once more. Hea- 
 ven preserve and bless-—" 
 
 Ye both, she would have added : bwt 
 checking herself, she took Felix by the 
 hand, and at length departed. 
 
 Never had Viola entered the cavern, or 
 thrown herself upon her humble bed with 
 more mournful feelings than those which 
 now oppressed her. Yet they were of a 
 character which differed widely from those 
 of a former period ; they had little or no 
 connexion with self; and though perhaps 
 equally afflicting, they were certainly less 
 dreary. Her's was now a social sorrow—- a 
 sorrow arising from pity; from gradually 
 increasing interest for a suffering fellow- 
 creature; it was no longer unmixed horror 
 at her own calamitous fate ; it was no longer 
 that withering consciousness of utter deso- 
 lation which had before so gloomily preyed 
 upon her spirits; there was gentleness, 
 there was softness in her present distress : 
 in that which was passed, there had been 
 nothing but awe, distraction, and despair. 
 
 Before she allowed her little companiori 
 to lie down, she made him kneel to say his
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 13? 
 
 prayers. The child seemed not unaccus- 
 tomed to the duty. Joining his inno- 
 cent hands together, and raising his eyes 
 with a look of reverence that touched her^ 
 he repeated a short form of intercession 
 so admirably adapted to his age and com- 
 prehension, that he appeared to feel the 
 meaning of every word he pronounced. As 
 he arose from his pious posture, Viola 
 kissed him, and asked who had taught him 
 so excellent a liuie prayer. 
 
 His complexion altered, and his eyes 
 were ready to overflow, as, with quivering 
 lips, he answered : " Poor mamma !" 
 
 Viola wiped his tearful eyes, and folding 
 liim to her bosom, mentally cried : " I 
 might have guessed it! Who but a mo- 
 ther could so well have instructed him !*' 
 
 Yet she was anxious to gain information 
 upon one point, which the child alone 
 could render clear to her: '* Does Mr. Fitz 
 Aymer/^ enquired she, " ever make you 
 repeat this prayer ?" 
 
 " Yes; every night.'* 
 
 This brief reply gave to Viola a sensation 
 of happiness which, but the minute before, 
 she would have deemed herself incapable
 
 13S TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 of experiencing: "Oh, my clear mother P' 
 she cried, " he cannot be the licentious 
 being you described him! If he has this 
 respect for religious duties, there must be 
 goodness in him l'^ 
 
 Under the impression of this consolatory 
 persuasion, she knelt to offer up her own 
 petitions to Heaven, and then resigned her- 
 self to repose. 
 
 With the first ray of light, she and her 
 little companion awoke. Children, when 
 healthy, are like birds; ihey break througli 
 the bands of sleep at the earliest dawn, and 
 impcitient to be in action, are restless and 
 dissatisfied till permitted to bask and frolic 
 in the morning sun. Violas slumbers had 
 been less refreshing; she unclosed her eyes 
 with a confused remembrance of painful 
 dreams, and of some still more painfuj 
 reality : and, as the events of the preceding 
 day flashed with all their attendant cir- 
 cumstances upon her memory, she sprung 
 from her couch, ai.xious to terminate the 
 suspense she was in respecting Fitz Aymer's 
 present situation. 
 
 She entered the cabin with so light a 
 footiall, that the ' blind mole' could not
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 139 
 
 have heard her : Felix, treading as softly, 
 followed. They found Lady Earlingford^ 
 scrupulous in the performance of her cha- 
 ritable office, still sitting beside the sick 
 man's bed. He had recently fallen into a 
 calm doze; but during the night had been 
 in much pain, wakeful^ and very feverish. 
 V^iola, who till now had never ventured to 
 regard him with stedfast attention, fixed 
 her eyes upon his face, and stood contem- 
 plating him with long and earnest gaze. 
 His paleness could not surprise^ though it 
 afflicted her; she thought it had encreased 
 since she last beheld him : but the fine 
 character of his countenance, the dignity of 
 
 nis brow, tnc sweeiness ot expression about 
 his mouth, the image he presented altoge- 
 ther of a noble creature smitten by sudden 
 suffering, incurred in the cause of huma- 
 nity, struck her so forcibly with mingled 
 admiration and pity, that, unconscious of 
 the length of ti ne she remained surveying 
 him— unconscious that her mother, with an 
 aching heart, was watching her speaking 
 countenance, she was yet standing' motion- 
 less at his side, when Fitz Aymer awoke.
 
 140 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 Quick as thought, colouring and abashed', 
 she moved away; but not with such speed 
 as to avoid being seen — not with such as- 
 sumed composure as to disguise from him 
 that she had been observing him with sen- 
 timents of commiseration. He raised him- 
 self on his elbow, and looking after her, 
 said : " Why should you shrink back, my 
 dear Edmund, as if ashamed of letting me 
 perceive the kindness of your heart ? Da 
 you suppose that it can be otherwise than 
 cheering and grateful to me to discover in 
 you these friendly feelings? Come hither, 
 then, and ask me fairly and frankly how 
 I do ?" 
 
 " Without making the enquiry," said 
 Lady Earlingford, " Edmund may be as- 
 sured by the tone of your voice that you 
 are better. Is it not so ?'* 
 
 Fitz Aymer thankfully acknowledged 
 that it was. The quiet sleep which he had 
 enjoyed, had, he said, invigorated his spi- 
 rits, and relieved the irritation of his wound. 
 He expressed in the most animated terms 
 his sense of her attentive care ; and be- 
 sought her no longer to delay seeking the
 
 THE SHIPWRECK, Hi 
 
 repose of which she must stand so much in 
 need. 
 
 She assured him, that whilst so bright a 
 sun was shining it would be vain to attempt 
 sleeping : but as he appeared so much 
 easier, she would leave him for about an 
 hour, and refresh herself by taking a stroll 
 upon the beach. 
 
 Viola accompanied her, and, contrary to 
 her usual practice, seemed solicitous to 
 make Fitz Aymer the subject of discourse. 
 She related to her mother what had passed 
 the night before between herself and Felix, 
 adding: *' Do you not think that this at- 
 tention to the child's first and most sacred 
 duty augurs favourably of his own prin- 
 ciples ? Does it not, my dear mother, incline 
 you to soften your opinion of him ? 1 know 
 that you require no motive stronger than 
 humanity to induce you to aid and serve 
 him in his present distress : but all that you 
 are performing, you would perform with 
 more pleasure, if persuaded that the object 
 of your exertions deserved as well as re- 
 quired your care.'* 
 
 Lady Earlingford had too much know- 
 ledge of human nature to be ignorant that
 
 142 XALES OF FANCY. 
 
 nothing gives a more powerful stimulous to 
 an earJy and unconfirmed prepossession 
 than any appearance of injustice towards 
 the person who excites it. She therefore 
 cheerfully concurred with her daughter in 
 ascribing all due praise to Fitz Aymer for 
 his conduct towards Felix ; she spoke of 
 him also upon other points, with general, 
 though temperate approbation ; allowing 
 that his whole demeanour towards them- 
 selves had been uniformly irreproachable : 
 " Yet we must not delude ourselves, my 
 dear child,'^ she added, *' with an idea that 
 we are in community with a faultless cha- 
 racter. Here, it is true, Mr. Fitz Aymer 
 not only displays many amiable qualities, 
 but evinces no disposition to evil; and 
 here, perhaps, were he always to remain, 
 he might always merit the same commen- 
 dation. Butl have known him in societv. 
 Viola ; and there I have had too much 
 opportunity to convince myself that he is 
 wholly incapable of resisting temptation." 
 
 '« Shall I never be entrusted, my dear 
 mother,'^ said Viola, *' with the particulars 
 of his former history to which you have »o 
 often alluded?'*
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 143 
 
 " I am reluctant to communicate them 
 to you, not so much on Mr. Fitz Aymer's 
 account, as from motives of delicacy to- 
 wards other individuals, implicated in the 
 disgraceful tale, whose misconduct, were 
 we ever to re-enter the world, I should re- 
 gret having exposed to your knowledge/' 
 
 Viola insisted no further: but as she 
 again drew near the cabin, she was sensible, 
 that the feelings towards its inmate with 
 which she had quitted it were considerably 
 chilled; and that the untold transactions, 
 whatever they might be, referred to once 
 more by her mother, had effaced many of 
 the better impressions which had recently 
 began to stamp themselves upon her mind. 
 Yet, in her attentions to the wounded man, 
 there was no perceptible relaxation ; nay, 
 from being the offspring of principle rather 
 than sensibility, they were more unembar- 
 rassed, and tendered with greater ease to 
 her own feelings. 
 
 Amongst the effects which had belong- 
 ed to young Earlingford, was a small chess- 
 board, and a set of men. These, with Viola 
 for his partner^ were an inestimable resource 
 to Fitz Aymer, who loved the game, and was
 
 i44 ^ALES OF FANCY. 
 
 equally surprised and rejoiced to find in her 
 an adversary worth contending with. Lady 
 Earlingford, whilst they played, sat by at 
 work ; and Felix, happy in the enjoyment of 
 his own locomotive powers, ran about from 
 place to place, from friend to friend, with 
 all the gaiety and all the restlessness of 
 capricious childhood. 
 
 Towards evening, this useless energy 
 was gently checked by Fitz Aymer, who 
 observed, that oppressed by a whole night 
 of watchfulness. Lady Earlingford had 
 insensibly closed her eyes, and fallen into 
 a quiet slumber. All was for some time 
 kept profoundly tranquil, Viola had taken 
 up one of the books which had that day 
 been brought from the cave ; and Fitz Ay- 
 mer, she believed, from his perfect stillness, 
 had imitated her mother's example. But 
 she was mistaken ;— ere long, he half raised 
 himself from the reclining posture he had 
 assumed, and leaning towards her, whilst 
 cautiously observing Lady Earlingford, he 
 softly said: "Edmund, — what has been 
 the fate of your cousin ? — Of Viola Ear- 
 Jingford ?'' 
 
 The blood rushed tumultuously int©
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 145 
 
 Viola*s cheeks at this abrupt and wholly 
 unexpected enquiry, and stammering-— 
 faltering, whilst sedulously averting her 
 face, she said : " Her fate ? — Why should 
 her fate interest you ?*' 
 
 " It must interest every man possessed of 
 the common feelings of humanity. She was 
 spoken of by all our fellow passengers in 
 terms of praise such as I scarcely ever heard 
 surpassed. Her manners were as much 
 admired as her person ; and thou<:h I never 
 distinctly saw her face, the grace and deli- 
 cacy of her form convinced me that what 
 report said of her beauty was as just as it 
 was enthusiastic. Half the young men on 
 board were in love with her; and 1 might, 
 for my sins ! have added one to the 
 number, but for the prudential vigilance 
 with which her mother guarded her from 
 my sight. She never appeared upon deck 
 till evening, and as I did not dine with those 
 who were gay and in health, I obtained 
 only, and as if by stealth, a faint view of 
 her when she issued from retirement for 
 air and exercise. — But tell me, Edmund, 
 is she safe ? — You, and above all, her mother^ 
 could not be so placid^ so undisturbed, if 
 
 H
 
 146 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 you had not good reason to believe that she 
 escaped." 
 
 Viola, who never till this moment had 
 entertained a suspicion that Fitz Aymer 
 had at any time bestowed the slightest 
 thought upon her, was sensibly gratified by 
 so undesigninj? a testimony of the favour- 
 able manner in which she was remembered 
 by him. She was distressed, however, how 
 to answer his enquiries ; and detesting 
 prevarication, it was not without an effort 
 which cost her much pain, that she at 
 length prevailed upon herself to say : " My 
 cousin, we have every reason to hope, is 
 ere now arrived in Bengal, and secure 
 under the protection of Sir William Ear- 
 lingford."' 
 
 " But how was her preservation ef- 
 fected ?^ 
 
 "You must ask Lady Earlingford," 
 replied Viola; "she planned — she contrived 
 it all! — I can tell you nothing more thaa 
 that her daughter is perfectly safe." 
 
 "By referring me to Lady Earlingford, you 
 debar me from all probability of ever hearing 
 another word upon the subject. She cannot 
 bear that I should pronounce her daughter's
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 147 
 
 name ; and once or twice when I have en- 
 deavoured to direct the conversation into 
 that channel, she has parried my enquiries 
 so dexterously, or discountenanced them 
 with such seriousness, that I have been 
 almost tempted to believe she had some 
 unfortunate reason for wishing that Viola 
 might never be spoken of/' 
 
 "You do not, I hope, imagine,** said the 
 feigned Edmund, " that there has ever 
 been any coolness — any difference between 
 them ?" 
 
 " Stranger things have happened ! But, 
 however, these are matters I can have no 
 concern with: I only wonder at the mys- 
 tery with which all reference to her fate 
 has been avoided ; and often regret, that 
 when you and her mother were drifted to 
 this shore, she should have been wafted to 
 any other ! Indeed, on being first informed 
 that Lady Earlingford had a companion, I 
 so firmly expected to behold her daughter, 
 that the sight of you, my poor Edmund, 
 was an inconceivable disappointment to me. 
 But can you explain what Sir William's 
 inducement could be to send for her to 
 India?*'
 
 143 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 '' Impatience, I suppose, to see her 
 again. They have been separated above 
 two years." 
 
 '* Is she very much attached to him ?** 
 
 " No daughter ever had more reason. 
 He is the kindest of parents." 
 
 '* And yet, no man was ever a more im- 
 placable hater!" 
 
 " I am sorry — very sorry that you should 
 have had cause to think so ! But why has 
 he hated you ?'* 
 
 " Has not Lady Earlingford informed 
 
 you?" 
 
 " No; it is a subject on which she al- 
 ways silences my enquiries." 
 
 " She is right ; and 1, my dear Edmund, 
 must silence them also. I think you an 
 admirably good boy, and I have much regard 
 for you : but when I select a confidant, he 
 shall be of maturer years." 
 
 After this, they relapsed into silence. 
 Viola was afraid of saying any thing impru- 
 dent, and therefore glad to drop the con- 
 versation : and Fitz Aymer having gathered 
 from her all the information she seemed 
 willing or able to give, had no further wish 
 to question her. Lady Earlingford in st
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 149 
 
 short time awoke, and earlier than was her 
 custom (being aiuch fatigued) retired with 
 Viola for the night. 
 
 The first moment she was alone with her 
 mother, Viola frankly communicated to her 
 the whole of the dialogue which she had so 
 recently held with Fitz Aymer. 
 
 The eftect of such a disclosure may 
 readily be divined. It filled Lady Earling- 
 ford With anxiety for the peace and happi- 
 ness of her child. She had already descried 
 in her, various indications of a growing re- 
 gard for their felL-w-exile, aud this disco- 
 very of the interest which she had excited 
 in him, it could not be' doubted would 
 powerfully tend to confirm the preposses- 
 sion. To reprove, or even to remonstrate 
 with her, might not only be unavailing, 
 but dangerous. Viola had hitherto been 
 undisguised and tractable ; she had con- 
 cealed from her mother no thought of her 
 heart ; she had submitted to her counsels 
 with the docility of an infant. It was evi- 
 dent that the nature of her own sentiments 
 towards Fitz Aymer was still undeveloped 
 even to herself. Injudicious censure, by open- 
 ing her eyes, might only teach her dissimu- 
 H 3
 
 160 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 lation, chill her filial tenderness, and pre- 
 pare the way for future disagreements* 
 When was love eversuhdued by argument? 
 Yet, on how many considerations was the 
 attachment, she appeared to be forming, 
 most earnestly to be deprecated ! Viola's 
 hand, should their restoration to society 
 ever be accomplished, was, by her father's 
 decree, already disposed of; and had Fitz 
 Aymer appeared upon the scene as a can- 
 didate for it, with no other drawback to 
 his hopes of success, this engagement 
 would have sufficed to ensure his rejection. 
 Viola was still ignorant of the destiny that 
 had been marked out for her. The indivi- 
 dual to whom it had been projected to 
 unite her, was in India ; she had never 
 seen him ; never attended to any thing that 
 had been said of him ; and had entered the 
 ship which was meant to have conveyed 
 her a bride to his house, with as little sus* 
 picion of her father's purpose, as of the 
 rough interposition of the elements which 
 was to render that purpose vain. Yet, from 
 one hour to the otlier her situation might 
 be changed ; the ties with society which 
 appeared so completely dissevered, might
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. I3l 
 
 he re- united ; and she who now seenfied 
 amenable for her conduct to Heaven only, 
 and to her mother, might suddenly be re- 
 placed under the authority of a father, who, 
 though he loved her, would indignantly 
 spurn — at whatever cost to her happiness- 
 all idea of alliance with Fitz Aymer. 
 
 The only measure upon which Lady Ear- 
 lingford could resolve, with the hope of 
 giving a timely check to the progress of 
 Viola's alarmino' attachment, was that of 
 revealing to her the matrimonial project en- 
 tertained by her father. Wishing, how- 
 ever, to avoid exciting the idea of having 
 any design in making this communication, 
 she deferred entermg upon it till an oppor- 
 tunity should present itself of doing so 
 ■without apparent premeditation; and when- 
 ever the disclosure should take place, flat- 
 tered herself that it would insensibly ope- 
 rate as a restraint upon the partiijlity which 
 Viola might otherwise unreflectingly in- 
 dulge. She loved her father, and had been 
 brought up with so strong a sense of filial 
 obligation, that if any thing could repress 
 her lurking attachment, it would be the 
 H 4
 
 159 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 terror of forfeiting by disobedience a pa- 
 rent's favour. 
 
 Meanwhile, to the perplexed girl's ear- 
 nest solicitations for counsel how to answer 
 Pitz Ayaier should he again apply to her 
 for information on the subject of Viola's 
 rescue, Lady Earlingford answered : " We 
 will not anticipate, my love, a circumstance 
 which is now so unlikely to occur. Fitz 
 Aymer has probably gained all the intelli- 
 gence upon this point which he will ever re- 
 quire. I have no expectation that the name, 
 or the remembrance of Viola will be brought 
 forward by him again. He is so nearly a 
 stranger to her, that it cannot possibly be 
 a matter of serious interest to him to know 
 bow she escaped. But should he ever re- 
 new the conversation, refer him again, as 
 you did this evening, to me. I shall know 
 how to answer him with less embarrass- 
 ment, and with less danger of exciting sus- 
 picion : and surely, my Viola can have no 
 inclination to betray herself, at the very 
 moment when he has avowed a disposition 
 to admire her, which, neither in this de- 
 sert, where no law can give it sanction, nor
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 153 
 
 ]n the world, where a father's voice would 
 oppose it — she can ever countenance." 
 
 Viola seemed struck by the justice of this 
 representation, and promised, if again ques- 
 tioned, to act strictly as her mother pre- 
 scribed. 
 
 ii 5
 
 I54t TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 CHAP, VIIl. 
 
 It hath pleased 
 
 The searcher of the heart, by misery's test, 
 To prove our souls ; thciij here, mid lonely wilds, 
 Where none but Heaven can witness^ we'll invoke 
 His ministering host. 
 
 SOUTIIET, 
 
 — With open lips, 
 
 And eager car, and eyes which, while they watched 
 Her features, caught the spirit that she breathed, 
 Mute and enrapthe sat. 
 
 SOUTHEY. 
 
 When Lady Earlingford, the ensuing 
 morning, entered the cabin to enquire how 
 her patient had rested, he was surprised to 
 see her unaccompanied by Edmund. 
 
 " Why did he not come with 3^ou ?^' said 
 Fitz Aymer. 
 
 " You will see him by and by,'* an- 
 swered Lady Earlingford. " I do not now 
 mean to remain with you myself five mi- 
 nutes. Tell me, therefore, how you do in
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 155 
 
 as few words as you can, and let me return 
 to the cave." 
 
 " But why all this haste? And why so 
 mysterious in your answers ?'* 
 
 *' Are you very anxious — or, rather, are 
 you resolved to know ? If you are, expe- 
 rience has taught me that there is no re-- 
 dress — no means of escaping your ur- 
 gency r 
 
 *' Do not say so, dear Lady Earlingford ! 
 I owe you so much, that I ougfit to be in- 
 capable of persisting in any enquiry which 
 you may feel reluctant to answer." 
 
 " I am glad to find you disposed to be so 
 acquiescent. But now, to account to you 
 for asking to take Felix with me, I will tell 
 you sincerely the inducement which we 
 have to remain for the next hour or two at 
 the cave. We have kept an exact account 
 of the progress of time since we first landed 
 on this isle : we know as accurately how 
 many d^vs and weeks have succeeded each 
 other, as if we still were in a region where 
 ' bells do knoll to church.' On the return 
 of every sabbath, we acquit ourselves as 
 decoroLisIy as we are able, of the duties at- 
 tached to a day which we have been accus-
 
 156 TALES OP FANCY. 
 
 tomed to observe with reverence. We have 
 books to assist us, and hearts, I will venture 
 to say, equally humble, resigned, and grate- 
 ful. Now, permit your young companion 
 to be present during the celebration of our 
 simple rites." 
 
 " And what has his friend done,'^ cried 
 Fitz Aymer, upbraidihgly, " to merit this 
 exclusion from them ? Dearest Lady Ear- 
 lingford, convey your books hither : ho- 
 nour this rude hut by making it your 
 church, and honour tne by believing, that 
 I am not such a reprobate as to be wholly 
 unworthy of joining with you in prayers to 
 my Creator.'* 
 
 Lady Earlingford was surprised at his 
 earnestness; but she could say nothing ia 
 opposition to his proposal, and therefore left 
 him, to go in quest of Viola. 
 
 " This young man,^' said she, as she pur- 
 sued her way to the cave, *^' is determined 
 that we shall love him ! Ah, my poor 
 Viola ! his very virtues will augment thy 
 danger '/' 
 
 The lovely girl, v»'hilst awaiting her mo- 
 ther's return, had been renewing with some 
 of her feathered friends the intercourse
 
 THE SHIPWRECK, 157 
 
 which of late had been so often interrupted. 
 Fitz Aymer had promised never to prose- 
 cute his shooting excursions in the imme- 
 diate vicinity of the cavern; and the birds 
 whom she had formerly attracted to it, had 
 lost little of their familiarity. She was feed- 
 ing and caressing them when Lady Earling- 
 ford entered. 
 
 " Why have you not brought Felix, my 
 dear mother ?'' enquired she. " Did Mr. 
 Fitz Aymer object to his coming?" 
 
 " No; but he seems desirous to have 
 prayers read in the cabin/* 
 
 The purest delight shone in Viola's eyes. 
 She folded her hands, and raising them to- 
 wards Heaven with looks that were also 
 cast upwards, she seemed to be mentally 
 returning thanks for this proof that Fitz 
 Aymer wished to be in favour with his 
 God ! — that Fitz Aymer, their sole-ap- 
 pointed friend, wished to unite with them 
 in the worship of their mutual Father 1 
 
 An emotion so heartfelt would alone 
 have brought confirmaiion to Lady Ear- 
 lingford (had any be^n wanting) of the in- 
 terest which Fitz Aymer had awakened in 
 her daughter's bosom. She witnessed and
 
 148 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 understood it with sorrowino; dismay ; but 
 forbearing all comment, looked round for 
 the books which she was to transport to 
 the cabin, and having found them, took 
 hold of Viola's arm, and once more quitted 
 the cave. 
 
 Every thing which could tend to place 
 her companion's principles in a serious 
 point of view before Fitz Aymer, she deem- 
 ed it her duty to promote. Viola, on each 
 returnmg sabbath, had been accustomed at 
 the cavern to read the service for which 
 they were now assembled ; and she read it 
 admirably. Lady Earlingford, on the pre- 
 sent occasion, put the book into her hands, 
 and desired her, as usual, to undertake the 
 duty. Trembling, and in accents almost 
 inaudible, she obeyed : her voice however 
 by degrees grew firmer ; her powers revived, 
 and ceasino' to direct her thouohts towards 
 him with whom she prayed, they soon rested 
 wholly upon Him to whom those prayers 
 were addressed. With a look of reverential 
 awe, and in tones at once fervent, solemn, 
 and full of touching intercession -tones cal- 
 culated to strike irresistibly upon the heart, 
 she went through the sacred office. Never
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 159 
 
 had Fitz Aymer been rendered so sensible 
 of its beauties ; never bad he felt himself 
 inspired with feelings of such true devotion. 
 The respect which he had long entertained 
 for Lady Earlingford, was heightened by the 
 proof now afforded hirn of the excellent 
 precepts, the sincere love of religion which 
 she knew so well how to instil into her 
 pupils. He looked at her with veneration, 
 *and all the anxiety which he had hitherto 
 experienced to establish himself in her good 
 opinion, acquired ten-fold vigour: *' Liv- 
 ing./' said he, " as I now do, in a society 
 of angels, the primitive simplicity of the 
 habits to which I am becoming inured, 
 their temperance, their tranquillity, joined 
 to the innocence and rectitude of character 
 perpetually before my eyes, must, assuredly, 
 contribute to influence in the most salutary 
 manner the whole remaining term of my ex- 
 istence. If ever I am restored to society, I 
 shall be restored to it a better man — and to 
 you, Lady Earlingford, will the change, in 
 a great degree, be owing/' 
 
 '* Pray Heaven I may ever be the humble 
 instrument of so much good ! To own the 
 truth, I have often thought, Mr. Fitz Ay-
 
 160 TALES OP FANCY. 
 
 mer, that had you been early trained in tha 
 practice of self-controul; or had you hap- 
 pily been cast upon the world with fewer 
 means of indul^ins^ your passions; — I have 
 often thought, that there were those qua- 
 lities, those propensities in your nature, 
 which would have made you one of the 
 best and noblest of human characters.--- 
 Alas! you must be fully sensible, that we 
 can now scarcely admit this to have been 
 the case !'' 
 
 *' I shall for ever deny," cried Fitz Ay- 
 mer, with some warmth, " that I have 
 been so wholly worthless as you believe — 
 Yet, I will not attempt to exculpate every 
 part of my conduct. In many instances I 
 have been guilty of extraordinary folly and 
 imprudence ; I have exposed myself to a 
 thousand calumnies — I have been daringly 
 regardless of my own reputation, and fa- 
 tally insensible of the lasting mischief which 
 so arrogant a defiance of public opinion 
 would entail upon me! You say. Lady 
 Earlingford, that I wanted early guidance: 
 nothing can be truer — I lost my father and 
 mother whilst still a boy, and, except an 
 cider brother, whom 1 dearly loved, but of
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. I6l 
 
 whom I stood not in the slightest awe, I 
 had no male relations who chose to under- 
 take the care of me. 1 was placed at a pub- 
 lic school, and when my brother was upon 
 foreign service, my vacations were spent in 
 the house of a rich, an indulgent, and, sooth 
 to say! not a very wise maternal aunt. 
 She suffered me to comport myself exactly 
 as I pleased ; she gave me abundance of 
 money ; she pampered my appetite ; laugh- 
 ed at my misdemeanours; and finally, dying 
 before 1 had completed my eighteenth year, 
 she left me her whole fortune. I was luxu- 
 rious, but not indolent: and ample as were 
 the means of self-gratification now in my 
 power, 1 knew no happiness till I had ob- 
 tained a commission, and joined the re- 
 giment to which my brother belonged. 
 This transaction was not merely dictated 
 by the idle vanity of wearing a red coat; I 
 expected to see some hard service, and my 
 expectations were amply fulfilled. But the 
 love 1 bore my brother, the hope of ac- 
 quiring distinction, and the pleasure I de- 
 rived from a life of variety and enterprize, 
 supported me through every difficulty I had
 
 162 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 imposed on myself. After sundry vicissi- 
 tudes, sundry dangers escaped, or incurred, 
 an illness, contracted during my last cam- 
 pais^n, compelled me to let my brother, 
 who was ordered out to India, embark some 
 weeks before me. The instant I recovered 
 sufficient strength, it was my wish to follow 
 him. I went on board, with that view, 
 the very ship, dear Madam, in which 3^ou 
 were a passens^er: you know the rest, and you 
 now also know the general outline of my 
 history. I have neither courage to relate, 
 nor would you have inclination to hear, all 
 its particulars: but of this be assured, that 
 notwithstanding the early independence i 
 attained, notwithstanding the innumerable 
 temptations which youth, wealth, high spi- 
 rits, and pride of birth, accumulated around 
 me, 1 have no action to reproach myself for 
 (however appearances may be against me) 
 which the most rigorous moralist could in- 
 terpret into deliberate criminality." 
 
 Lady Earlingford would not contest this 
 assertion, but she wondered at its boldness, 
 and began seriously to believe, that she 
 either must have injured him most hein-
 
 THE SHIPWRECK, l63 
 
 ousiy, or that in the progress of a long 
 conrse of profligacy, he had forgotten all 
 distinctions between vice and virtue. 
 
 Viola, meanwhile, had listened to his 
 sketch of past events with an interest and 
 an avidity, unmixed with doubt, that im- 
 printed every sentence in characters in- 
 delible upon her memory. To have dis- 
 credited assurances uttered with such seri- 
 ousness, with a look that denoted such ve- 
 racitv, and so immediately after she had 
 beheld him engaged in the solemn duty of 
 prayer and confession, would have appeared 
 to her a degree of scepticism amounting 
 almost to depravity. Ease of mind, and the 
 innocent gladness of a virtuous heart, de- 
 lighting in the rectitude of others, beamed 
 in her aspect throughout the day: she spoke 
 to Fitz Aymer, she looked, she moved 
 with an air of reliance, of contentment and 
 animation which he had never witnessed 
 in her before. Little suspecting the real 
 cause of these demonstrations, he ascribed 
 them wholly to the peaceful influence pro- 
 duced upon her mind by the religious act 
 which she had been performing; and in 
 contemplating the serene radiance of her
 
 164 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 countenance, he felt that sort of admiration 
 and respect which he would have enter- 
 tained for a Celestial visitant from a better 
 world. 
 
 A few days now released him from con- 
 finement, and restored to him in a great 
 degree the capacity of wandering about as 
 indefatigably as ever. Every morning, pre- 
 vious to beoinnins: his perigrinations, he 
 brought Felix to the cave, and committed 
 him to the care of Lady Earlingford. Some- 
 times, on promising not to extend the boun- 
 daries of his walk too far, he prevailed upon 
 Viola to accompany him : her consent, in- 
 deed, was not difficult to obtain : but that 
 of Lady Earlingford was obviously given 
 with reluctance, though, from the fear that a 
 constant refusal would have a suspicious 
 appearance, she seldom, in positive terms, 
 withheld it. 
 
 During these rambles, Fitz Aymer's at- 
 tention to his young companion could 
 hardly have been surpassed had he known 
 who she really was. Solicitous to spare 
 her all unnecessary fatigue, he chose the 
 most level districts, resigned to her the 
 'adiest resting-places, and wherever an
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 165 
 
 unavoidable difficulty occurred, lent her 
 such ready and friendly aid, that afttr every 
 excursion her heart became more de- 
 votedly his own, and whilst they lasted, 
 she experienced a sensation of happiness 
 almost unalloyed by the slightest regret 
 for the past, or anxif^ty for the future. 
 
 Lady Earlingford was right in conjec- 
 turing that he would revive the subject of 
 her daughter's escape no more. Satisfied 
 with knowing that she was believed to be 
 in security, his curiosity wholly died away, 
 and he spoke of her no more. 
 
 His conversation often turned upon the 
 subject of his early military career. Viola 
 loved to make him ' fight his battles o'er 
 again ;' and though she could not but shud- 
 der at the scenes of carnage he described, 
 the devastations caused by an invading 
 army, and the multitude of evils insepa- 
 rable from war; yet, the partial instances 
 of heroism he had witnessed ; the traits of 
 humanity he could record ; the generous 
 conduct of individuals towards the enemy 
 when the heat of battle vvas over — all these 
 excited in her mind an interest approaching 
 to enthusiasm. From the warmth of friend-
 
 166 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 ghip with which he spoke of many of his 
 brother officers, she felt assured tliat he 
 had himself been a favourite amongst them; 
 and when she reflected upon his perfect 
 good-humour, his readiness to oblige, his 
 animation of character, and truly social 
 disposition, the only wonder would have 
 been had it been otherwise. 
 
 They were one morning sauntering lei^ 
 surely at the f )ot of a high cliff, deeply 
 engaged, he in detailing, she in listening 
 to the particulars of a retreat which had 
 been attended by many circumstances of 
 peculiar disaster, when the report of a 
 musket, clear, distinct, though distant, 
 reached their ears. They mutually started, 
 and regarding each other with looks that 
 seemed to imply a doubt of the testimony 
 of their own senses, exclaimed at the same 
 instant: " Did you, too, hear the incredi- 
 ble sound ?'^ 
 
 " 1 did,*' cried Fitz Aymer, much agi- 
 tated, " and it proclaimed the vicinity of 
 Europeans ! — It tells us that, perhaps, our 
 deliverance is at hand ; Oh, Edmund — how 
 my heart bounds at the thought! — But the 
 sound proceeded from the summit of this
 
 THE shipwreck:. \Gf 
 
 cliff. I must seek a path that will enable 
 me to ascend it. Go back to the cave, my 
 dear boy ; you cannot accompany me on so 
 scrambling an undertaking; go back, and 
 depend upon seeing me the moment 1 have 
 any intelligence to communicate." 
 
 '' Oh, let me go with you !" cried Viola, 
 imploriny^Iy—" Fitz Aymer, I beseech you, 
 let me go ! — I can climb now nearly as 
 actively as yourself; — I can do any thing, 
 in short, but run the risk of encountering, 
 alone, the unknown owner of the gun." 
 
 " Weil, then, we will set out on this 
 reconnoitring adventure together. — But, 
 my i>ood boy, let me give you one little 
 piece of advice— till you gain nerves to 
 face a man carrying a musket, never dream 
 of being a soldier !** 
 
 Viola, disturbed as she was, could not 
 listen to this counsel without smiling: 
 '' What profession," said she, " do you then 
 think 1 ought to chuse ?" 
 
 "You should be a clergyman: — you 
 seem predestined to convert sinners, to 
 comfort mourners, and to preach universal 
 charity!" 
 
 " Would you come and listen to me ?'*
 
 i6S TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 *' Yes; — whether as sinner, or mourner; 
 — *and if ever I marry, Edmund, you shaii 
 perform the ceremony/' 
 
 '* Shall 1?"-- This half whispered in- 
 terrogation was uttered in so conscious and 
 singular a tone, that Fitz Aymer, stopping 
 a moment, turned round to look at her: but 
 outstripping him, she hastily began ascend- 
 ing the clifF; and forgetting his transient 
 surprise, he lost no time in following her. 
 
 They now, with mutual ardour, sought 
 to gain the top of the eminence. The track 
 which lliey had chosen, though less steep 
 than any other part of the ascent, was sutfi- 
 ciently toilsome to req lire the utmost 
 energy and perseverance. Here and there, 
 patches of coarse vegetation, scorched by 
 the intense heat of the sun, found root in 
 the rock, and served to bind its brittle 
 substance together, and prevent its giving 
 way beneath their feet, and rolling in loose 
 particles down the rapid slope. These 
 tuftsof discoloured weeds, were of use also 
 as stepping places, and without them, Viola 
 would have found it impossible to proceed. 
 Fitz Aymer afforded her all the assistance 
 jn his power : but the difficulties of the way
 
 THE SHIPWRECK, l69 
 
 were such, that it was scarcely consistent 
 with the safety of either to withdraw for 
 one instant the most vigilant attention from 
 their own path. The rays of a burning sun 
 darted full upon their heads, and their thirst 
 speedily became excessive: Viola, how- 
 ever, uttered not the sHghtest complaint; 
 her great object was to keep as near her 
 companion as possible: she felt more for 
 bis fatigue than her own ; and remembering 
 how recently he had been a sufferer by 
 exertions somewhat similar, her chief 
 dread was that of seeing him encounter 
 any similar disaster. 
 
 At length, all obstacles surmounted, 
 they attained the brink of a wide plain, 
 broken and irregular, but affording an 
 extensive prospect, and dotted with clumps 
 of stunted, battered trees. No traces of 
 human footsteps were to be discerned ; no 
 animals appeared, save a few birds ; no in- 
 dication of smoke; nor, upon the distant 
 ocean, which bounded three sides of the 
 horizon, could they distinguish any species 
 of vessel, either Indian or European. Ail 
 was inanimate, savage, and solitary. The
 
 170 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 view to the east was circumscribed bv the 
 neighbouring eminences of the central 
 mountain, rising high above the spot where 
 they stood, yet appearing connected with 
 it., and giving manifest indications of having, 
 at some remote period, been fiercely acted 
 upon by subterraneous fire. 
 
 Having taken a disappointed survey of 
 the silent and uninteresting tract, and 
 reposed themselves a few minutes in the 
 scanty shade afforded by a cluster of the 
 half- withered trees, they prepared to depart. 
 An easier footway presented itself for their 
 descent than the one by which, with such 
 ill-rewarded labour, they had gained their 
 present elevation ; but it was wearisome 
 from the extent of ground over which it led 
 them ; — and Viola, nearly exhausted, was 
 obliged, on reaching the foot of the cavern 
 rock, to sit down, and confess that she 
 could proceed no further without taking 
 some rest. She had half feared that this 
 acknowledgment would draw upon her 
 the imputation of effeminacy and want of 
 resolution : but, on the contrary, Fitz Ay-* 
 mer accused himself of having overtasked
 
 TfiE SHIPAVRECKi 171 
 
 her strength, and exposed her to more 
 exertion than it was reasonable to suppose 
 her capable of enduring-. 
 
 «« No, no," cried Viola ; " it was mj 
 Own wish to accompany you, and I well 
 knew, when I proposed it, that our path 
 could not be strewed with rose-leaves. 
 You have been so far from imposing any 
 unnecessary difficulties upon me, that you 
 have often assisted and favoured me in a 
 manner that must considerably have im* 
 peded your own progress, and encreased 
 your own toil." 
 
 "You deserved every aid I could give 
 you, by the steadiness with which you 
 abstained from harassing me with comi- 
 plaints, and the patience with which you 
 bore every discomfort, and struggled to 
 overcome every impediment/' 
 
 He then suggested to her the prudence 
 of observing at the cave the strictest 
 silence, for the present, on the subject of 
 the musket which they had heard discharg- 
 ed. He declared his resolution of devotingr 
 the whole afternoon to a diligent examina- 
 tion of every accessible spot in the neigh- 
 bpurhood ; and promised, on his return, to 
 ^2
 
 172 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 give her iiiiniediate information of the result 
 of his search: — "But I begin to think it 
 possible/^ continued he, " that what we 
 mistook for the report of fire-arms, may 
 have been only the fall, amidst reverberatjng 
 bills, of some fragment of rock ; or sup- 
 posing that we judged rightly in ascribing 
 the sound to the discharge of a musket, it 
 is easier to believe that the weapon was 
 acted upon by some person at sea, than 
 that it is the property of any one who can 
 have lain concealed upon the island.'* 
 
 "• You forget,'' said Viola, " how limitted 
 has been the extent of your rambles since 
 your accident; and how many days.that 
 accident obliged you to remain wholly 
 inactive. The path leading from the cavern 
 to the hut is all that Lady Earlingford or 
 I ever traversed during that period; — con- 
 sider, therefore, with what ease a new set 
 of occupiers may have landed upon our 
 shore, and hitherto escaped our obser- 
 
 vation." 
 
 They now saw Lady Earlingford and 
 Felix, who, from above, had heard their 
 voices, approaching to jom them ; and both 
 started up and hastened towards her.
 
 TlfE SHIPWRECK. l7^ 
 
 ^' You have been absent/' said she, 
 addressing Viola, "an incredible time, my 
 dear child. How could you support the 
 heat of such a day? I have jiever felt so 
 oppressed, though sitting in the shadiest 
 spot 1 could find, perfectly inactive." 
 
 Viola and Fitz Aymer, as she spoke, 
 were struck by the languor of her coun- 
 tenance. They imputed it in some mea- 
 sure to the long abstinence she had endur- 
 ed, in consequence of their having delayed 
 their return so much beyond the hour at 
 which she was accustomed to take her 
 noon-day meal; yet, it was evident, that 
 indisposition had also some share in the 
 alteration; and Viola, miserable at the 
 thought, could not detach her eyes from 
 her mother's face, nor forgive herself for 
 having forsaken her during so many hours. 
 
 Fitz Aymer, eager as he was to prosecute 
 the researches which he meditated, could 
 not, however, till a much later period 
 than he had intended, bear to quit the 
 kind friend who, when he was himself a 
 sufferer, had watched by him so assidu- 
 ously. But when the freshness of the 
 evening air began to produce a reviving 
 i3
 
 174 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 effect wpon her, and he saw her resuming 
 sonie portion of her habitual cheerfuhiess, 
 he stole away, determined to employ every 
 ray of remaining light in pursuing the ia- 
 vestigatioD which he had so much at heapt*
 
 lilE SHIPWRECK, 175 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 Let not your ears despise this tongue forever, 
 Which shal! possess them with the heaviest sound, 
 That ever yet they heard. 
 
 SUAKESPEAR. 
 
 The groan of grief, the shriek of pain, 
 Ring from the moonlight's grove of cane. 
 
 W. Scott* 
 
 Viola $aw Fitz Aymer depart with feel- 
 ings so different to those she would have 
 experienced, had iier mind been less occu- 
 pied by inquietude for her mother, that she 
 scarcely recollected the object he was 
 going upon, and was almost wholly indiffer- 
 ent to its event. He returned no more till 
 it was completely dark ; his stay then was 
 short, for he expressed an apprehension of 
 detaining Lady Earlingford from repose ; 
 but his anxiety to hear how she found 
 herself was as affectionate as ever; and as 
 there appeared nothing unusual io his 
 I 4
 
 176 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 manner, A^iola concluded that his perquisi- 
 tions had been fruitless, and dismissed the 
 affair entirely from her mind. 
 
 But in the morning, long before his usual 
 hour of appearing, he was, accompanied by 
 Felix, at the entrance of the cave. Viola, 
 much dejected, came forth to speak to him r 
 *• Lady Earlingford,'' said she, " has had a 
 sleepless and most uneasy night, and I am 
 really terrified at her looks !'^ 
 
 " I am truly concerned to hear it.— Is she 
 unable to rise }'* 
 
 '* Heaven forbid !— No, she is up ; but 
 seems very feeble, and almost as much 
 shaken as if she had been ill a week.'* 
 
 Fitz Aymer was silent a few moments, 
 and then in a voice expressive of his reluct- 
 ance to give her additional pain, said : " Do 
 not hate me, Edmund, for bringing you 
 unpleasant news at such a moment: but 
 circuQistances oblige me to be explicit, and 
 I dare hazard no delay .^' 
 
 Viola, dismayed, entreated him, with 
 trenibimg impatience, not to keep her in 
 suspense an instant. 
 
 "• 1 could have told you,'* resumed Fitz 
 Aymer> '' all that 1 am now come to
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 177 
 
 announce, last night: but tidings that are 
 disagreeable, never make a more povverfuj 
 impression upon the spirits than when 
 communicated just before we lie down to 
 rest. I therefore deferred speaking till the 
 morning." 
 
 He then proceeded to inform her, that he 
 had discovered the authors of their yester- 
 day's surprise, and the proprietors of the 
 gun which they had heard upon the cliff: 
 '* I had just parted from one of the persons 
 in question,^* he added, " when I last night 
 came back to the cave — and now, Edmund, 
 forgive me for prefacing what I have further 
 to say by these tedious circumlocutions ; 
 but the fact is, I am loath to come to the 
 point; and anxious to prepare you as well 
 as i am able for the comfortless information 
 which it is necessary I should impart. — " 
 
 '' Oh, speak, speak quickly !" cried Viola, 
 *' no reality can be so horrible as the con- 
 jectures this delay gives me time to form ! 
 Who are the beings to whom you allude ? 
 Are they Indians? Are they hostile and 
 savage? Are they many in number?" 
 
 " No; there are two individuals only, a 
 I ,5
 
 178 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 father and son, and both Europeans; na- 
 tives of France. The circumstances which 
 I gathered from the youngest respecting 
 their arrival hither, are briefly these : His 
 father, he told me, was commander of a 
 small privateer, in which, during nearly 
 four months, he had scoured the Indian 
 seas, made many valuable prizes, and ren- 
 dered himself the terror of all trading vessels 
 steering to or from any of the Asiatic set- 
 tlements. With bitter imprecations, how-.- 
 ever, the son, who acted as second in com- 
 mand, proceeded to state, that a conspiracy 
 had been formed against him and his father 
 by their own crew; and, that a short time 
 since, half a dozen of the most resolute of 
 the mutineers fell upon them suddenly 
 whilst pacing the deck, forced them over 
 the side of the ship into a crazy boat, and 
 then steered away in the privateer with all 
 the sail they ^ould set. The wretched 
 pair, unprovided with compass or quadrant 
 were likewise unfurnished with accommo- 
 dations of any kind either for sleeping, or for 
 warding off their exposure to the heats of 
 the sun. Their whole stock of provisions
 
 ,THE SHIPWRECK. IJQ 
 
 consisted of a scanty supply of salt mpht , 
 a small cask of rum, and a few gallons of 
 fresh water." 
 
 *' Poor souls!" exclaimed Vicla^ — " iiow 
 deplorable a situation !" 
 
 " Hnrd as their lot appears," resumed 
 Fitz Aymer, " I can scarcely hesitate to 
 believe that ihey had auiply deserved it ! 
 When you have once seen them, you will 
 cease to wonder at the hatred w hieh must 
 have instigated the crew to such ontra;jeous 
 insubordination. Two mote flinty-hearted 
 looking vdlainsl nevi^.r beheld ! Tue father, 
 still sullen and resentful, scowls from be- 
 neath a pair of bushy eye-brows wich the 
 ferocity of a tijir mediiarinii to spring upoa 
 his prey; he growls, rather than speaks* 
 and but that he appears ill, and 1 iiciieve 
 suffers from some acute internal malady, I 
 should be tempted, so rancorous is his 
 aspect, to shun him hereafter as the demon 
 of the place !" 
 
 "But the son?" cried Viola, fearfully; 
 " is there noiiiuig- less repulsive in /tis as- 
 pect ?" 
 
 " The son looks more crafty, autl cMm.^ at 
 being more civiijzed ; but the expression of
 
 180 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 his eye denotes a fierce and remorseless 
 ruffian, low bred, low born, and fitted for 
 any atrocity. He is gifted with Stentorian 
 lungs, and the athletic proportions of a gla- 
 diator. He presumes to speak of the past 
 occupation which he and his father carried 
 on, as having been authorized by govern- 
 ment; and I have no means of disproving 
 the assertion ; yet^ from many expressions 
 which escaped him whilst, in his fury, in- 
 veighing against the mutineers ; and, in- 
 deed, from the general deportment of both, 
 which is decidedly that of the most unprin* 
 cipled outlaws, I have scarcely a doubt that 
 they were mere common pirates, plundering 
 and robbing upon the high seas without re- 
 gard to friend or enemy — their hand against 
 every man, and every man's hand against 
 them 1** 
 
 " Oh^ Fitz Aymer!" cried the terrified 
 Viola, " you overrated my fortitude when 
 you thought me sufficiently prepared to 
 listen to this frightful account with com- 
 posure ! It shocks me beyond measure! — 
 How — how shall we communicate it to my 
 —to Lady Earlingford ? 1 feel so agitated 
 and confused, that I am as little capable of
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 181 
 
 breaking it to her with the caution which 
 ought to be used, as Felix himself could 
 be ! Fitz Aynrier — despise me not for the 
 confession ; but had you announced to me 
 any other species of evil ; had you told me 
 that an earthquake was at hand ; that the 
 volcano menaced an eruption, or that an 
 overwhelming hurricane was impending, I 
 could have endured it better than the infor- 
 mation that we are condemned to become 
 the associates of worthless and abandoned 
 men ! Natural evils, as creatures of the 
 dust, powerless to controul the elements, 
 or elude the will of Heaven, we are bound 
 to submit to patiently ar;d humbly; but 
 dangers or distresses inflicted by, or appre- 
 hended from the wickedness of human 
 beings, I consider as the hardest of all 
 others to be borne— -the most depressing to 
 the soul, and appalling to the imagination/* 
 " My dear Edmund,^' cried Fitz Aymer, 
 earnestly', '* confide in the solemn promise 
 which I here give you, to protect Lady 
 Earlingford and yourself, from every species 
 of insult or molestation at the hazard of my 
 life ! Nor will the task be so difficult as I 
 have unwarily taught you to apprehend.
 
 182 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 Both the intruders are unarmed ; the father 
 is too infirm for mischief; and in the event 
 of any personal contest between me and the 
 son, I have a presentiment that, in acti- 
 vity, address, and dispassionate presence of 
 mind, he would be no match for me/* 
 
 " How is it that you can call a man un- 
 armed," said Viola, " who possesses a mus- 
 ket, and the means to load it ?" 
 
 " When, as a signal favour, the gun was 
 handed down to him in the boat, it was 
 charged ; but no second loading was given 
 him : and yesterday, in shooting at some 
 birds, he expended the only ammunition 
 with which he was provided. He is like- 
 wise totally destitute of sabre, cutlass, or 
 any other species of weapon. ■** 
 
 " Yet^ — still you are single against two?! 
 The father may have more strength to do 
 evil than you imagine." 
 
 Fitz Aymer smiled : *' I assure you, Ed- 
 mund, that he would not at present be 
 more than equivalent to yourself in prowess! 
 As a temporary relief perhaps to his suffer- 
 ings, he swallows such copious draughts of 
 rum, that though his temper may be in- 
 flamed by it, his strength is undoubtedly
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 18J 
 
 diminished. His son complains that he de- 
 rives no assistance from him in procuring 
 the necessaries of li fe ; for during the greater 
 part of the day, he lies under a tree in a 
 state of brutish stupefaction, and never till 
 the coolness of the night comes on, gives 
 himself the trouble of moving the length of 
 his own shadow. Tlien^ indeed^ he makes 
 up for previous supineness, and staggers 
 whole hours about the beach, or roams 
 over the hills, invoking curses upon his re- 
 bellious crew, howling with internal pain, 
 or raving for more liquor. With all these 
 demonstrations of fury, however, his nerves 
 are so shaken, that a child might level him 
 with the dust." 
 
 " How long have these hateful beings 
 polluted this quiet place ?" 
 
 " Two or three days at most. Their 
 shattered and leaky bark was rather drifted 
 to land by the tide, than guided by their 
 own efforts ; and now lies in a useless con- 
 dition, hemmed in amongst the low rocks 
 on the eastern shore of the island."' 
 
 " Are they informed that you have any 
 companions ?" 
 , " They have seen Felix : but I wholly
 
 r84j TALES OP FANCY, 
 
 forbore mentioning either you or Lady 
 Earlingford. I see no immediate occasion 
 for proclaiming that you are here. Your 
 cavern is secure from discovery; and all that 
 you have to guard against is, the impru- 
 dence of shewing yourselves, or of letting 
 your voices be overheard. Luckily, Felix 
 can betray no secrets, for they are as igno- 
 rant of English as he is of French, The 
 business of bringing provisions to your re- 
 treat must devolve upon me; and as affairs 
 are now circumstanced, it will be the onlv 
 business I shall prosecute with pleasure. 
 These miscreants? Edmund, have made the 
 place utterly loathsome to me: I was be- 
 ginning to tolerate it with a degree of pa- 
 tience which 1 once thought it would be 
 impossible I ever should attain.^* 
 
 " And I,'* thought Viola, *' was begin- 
 ning to love it in preference to any other 
 spot under Heaven !" Then, turning from 
 him to re-enter the cave, she said : *' Come 
 with me^ Fitz Aymer, come with me, and 
 aid me, prompt me in the task of revealing 
 to Lady Earlingford the discovery which 
 you have so unfortunately made. She is ilf, 
 and its effect upon her will, I fear, be
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 185 
 
 (erible ! You know not what she suffered 
 when she first became aware of your resi- 
 dence on the island ! Her consternation, 
 upon finding an arrow which you had acci- 
 dentally shot in the direction of the place 
 where we sat, i never shall recollect with- 
 out shuddering." 
 
 " You must, however, endeavour to as- 
 sume an air of calmness. The less disturb- 
 ance she perceives in your aspect, or 
 anxiety in mine, the less dismay she will 
 herself experience. Recollect that we make 
 the communication from no idle love of 
 telling news, but to preserve her from the 
 danger of unadvisahly exposing herself to 
 observation : be composed, therefore, and 
 announce the intelligence in the least alarm- 
 ing manner possible." 
 
 Docile to his bidding, Viola smoothed 
 her brow, though unable to conquer the 
 disquiet of her heart, and slowly accompa- 
 nied him into the cave. 
 
 Their joint precautions, and considerate 
 endeavours to palliate the tidings which 
 they were compelled to unfold, failed not 
 entirely in producing the effect of inspiring 
 Lady Earlingford with some appearance of
 
 1S6 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 fortitude : but it was only with its appear- 
 ance ! The recital gave a blow to her ex- 
 istence as fatal as to her peace. She re- 
 pressed, for their sakes, all exclamation, 
 all outward shew of terror: she neither 
 wept nor spoke: but fixing her eyes upon 
 Viola with a look of indescribable anguish^ 
 she sat motionless as a statue; her hands 
 clasped, and the expression of her counte- 
 nance denoting the very agony of despair. 
 
 Fitz Aymer and Viola alternately gazed 
 at her, and at each other, with awe-struck 
 and profound emotion. The former dis* 
 cerned, or fancied that he discerned, in the 
 eyes of his adopted parent, a wildness coa- 
 trasting so horribly with the tranquillity 
 which she struggled to nraintaio, that he 
 scarcely knew how to flatter himself th« 
 blow would be otherwise than irrecoverable. 
 Viola, too, observed in her aspect a fore- 
 boding gloominess that petrified her with 
 fear: and but for the presence of Fitz Ay- 
 jner, she could have thrown herself upon 
 the earth, and wept, in bitterness of heart, 
 at the anticipation of the dark and unex- 
 plained calamities which that aspect seemed 
 to prognosticate.
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 187 
 
 He was the first who found courage to 
 break the dreary silence. He sat down be- 
 side Lady Earlingford, and taking her hand 
 with mingled respect and affection, said: 
 «' 1 cannot behold you thus overwhelmed, 
 dear Madan), by the intelligence which it 
 has been my painful ofBce to announce, 
 without finding myself oppressed by the 
 feelings of an executioner! Shake off, I 
 beseech you, this dreadful torpidity ; — re.- 
 vive, look up, dearest Lady Earlingford, and 
 assure yourself that the alarm which pos- 
 sesses you is equally premature and exagge- 
 rated. Remain patiently secluded within thi^ 
 asylum. It shall be my endeavour to occupy 
 the two strangers in remote parts of the 
 island. I have already offered my services to 
 the son as an assistant in erecting a hut, and 
 in repairing their damaged boat; and should 
 this last attempt prove successful, I am 
 not without hopes that his own impatience 
 to quit a solitude which he finds as irksome 
 as his company would be to us, will induce 
 him to depart, at any risk, in search of some 
 more populous region. Meanwhile, if Ed- 
 mund, growing weary of constant confine- 
 ment, chuses occasionally to emerge from
 
 13S TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 this cell, I will call him my brother, and 
 under that title ensure to him such treat- 
 ment as he ought to receive/' 
 
 Roused by the suggestion of a scheme so 
 remote from every wish of her heart, Lady 
 Earlingford placed her hand impressively 
 upon Fitz Aymer's arm, and exclaimed : 
 " Never, never can I voluntarily consent to 
 so pernicious an association! Oh, Fitz Ay- 
 mer ! preserve the mind of your innocent 
 young friend from the contamination to 
 which it would be exposed by an inter- 
 course with such depraved and vicious 
 beings! A degree of respect is due to the 
 extreme youth of Edmund, as sacred as 
 that which a pure and virtuous female 
 might challenge; and I make it my most 
 solemn request, that you will never discard 
 this reflection from your mind/* 
 
 Struck by the tone in which this injunc- 
 tion was given, Fitz Aymer promised a re- 
 ligious observance of its import; and soon 
 after quitted the cave, which, he said, it 
 might be prudent not to re-visit again till 
 the approach of night, lest he should render 
 himself liable to the danger of incurring 
 observation.
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 1S9 
 
 Felix was left behind, strictly charged to 
 I forbear all noise, and to submit traciably to 
 the necessity of being debarred fronn his 
 usual portion of exercise. 
 
 Lady Earlingford, after the departure of 
 him whom she was now compelled to re- 
 gard as a protector, remained as one stunned, 
 and half annihilated by a deadly blow. The 
 image was perpetually before her of Viola, 
 (her disguise suspected, or discovered) ex- 
 posed to insult and outrage from the dread- 
 ed beings whose arrival she so bitterly de- 
 plored. Whilst Fitz Aymer had b(^en pre- 
 sent, she had exerted herself to speak with 
 coherency, and to listen without utter pre- 
 occupation : but when all stimulous to ef- 
 fort was gone ; when the eye that had at 
 least checked, if not conquered her despon- 
 dency, was withdrawn, she never moved 
 except to wipe from her face the tears which 
 incessantly bathed it ; — she trembled at the 
 slightest noise, and, at intervals, grasping 
 the hand of her sorrowing daughter with 
 almost convulsive eagerness, she pronounc- 
 ed a few low and indistinct sentences, loo 
 broken and unconnected to be clearly un-
 
 190 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 derstood — almost too hollovv-toDed to re- 
 semble human accents. 
 
 Nearly the whole day was thus cruelly 
 passed : a day which cost the affectionate 
 and affrighted Viola almost as many tears 
 as were shed by her heart-struck mother. 
 Felix, meanwhile, was with the greatest 
 difficulty withheld from issuing forth in pur- 
 suit of Fitz Aymer. The sight of Lady 
 Earlingford^s fixed and motionless distress; 
 the vacant glance which she sometimes cast 
 upon him ; the mixture of alarm and grief 
 depicted upon the countenance of Viola ; 
 and the natural antipathy to silence and 
 confinement common to all children, ren- 
 dered him so refractory and discontented, 
 that scarcely any consideration would have 
 induced Viola to prolong his penance, short 
 of that which now rendered it indispensable 
 to their security from detection. 
 
 In addition to the mental sufferings of this 
 tedious and heavy day, they were con- 
 demned to the endurance of a degree of 
 heat which the previous temperature of the 
 island had not by any means prepared 
 them to experience. There w^as no sun—
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 1{)1 
 
 Jjut a moist and relaxing sultriness pervaded 
 the air, beyond descii|>tion oppressive: the 
 sides of the cavern were dripping with un- 
 wholesome vapours ; every thing with 
 which their hands carne in contact felt 
 clammy, yet burning; it grew almost aa 
 effort to breathe; and Lady Earlingford, 
 already ill, and now shattered by terrible 
 anxiety, was so much debilitated by an at- 
 mosphere thus loaded, that she lost all 
 power to sit up, and was compelled to 
 throw herself, panting and flushed, upon 
 her withered couch. Viola, also, though in 
 the vigour of health, felt the influence most 
 painfully of such suffocating closeness : 
 even at the mouth of the cave, not a breeze 
 was stirring capable of fanning a feather ; 
 a sort of portentous stillness reigned all 
 around, indescribably awful ; the sea itself 
 was so glassy, as to look wholly stagnant ; 
 and one unbroken mass of clouds, heavy, 
 dense, and immoveable, obscured the hea- 
 vens, and spread their own dull and sullen 
 hue over eavth and water. The very food 
 which she attempted to swallow appeared 
 spiritless, tepid, and unrefrtshii)g ; her 
 limbs seemed sinking under her; and ers
 
 192 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 the return of Fitz Aymer, casting herself' 
 in imitation of the weary Felix, upon the 
 ground, she rested her throbbing temples 
 upon the foot of Lady Earlingford's bed, 
 and though not inclined to sleep, closed 
 her eyes, as if glad to shut out from their 
 view the gloom that was diffused around. 
 
 It was nearly dark, when, at length hear- 
 ing Fitz Aymer*s voice, and guided by its 
 sound, she started up, and went forward to 
 meet him. He seemed languid, and nearly 
 as .dispirited as herself; and his first words 
 were : " How shall we live, my dear Ed- 
 mund, if this intolerable heat continues ? I 
 have hardly strength to support my own ^ 
 weight ! How have you all borne it ? How 
 is Lady Earlingford ?** 
 
 Viola, taking his hand, led him towards 
 her, saying: " Speak to her, Fitz Aymer; 
 endeavour to cheer her! She has scarcely 
 unclosed her lips the whole <!ay. Can you 
 give her no comfort? Can you say nothing 
 to her that may calm or encourage her ?'* 
 
 Fitz x\ymer sighed : but waving the sub- 
 ject, he said: " Why are you without a 
 light? 1 have brought a supply of fresh 
 fruit, some of whichmight cool and revive
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 1^5 
 
 her; but you keep her in such darkness 
 that I know not how to give it to her/' 
 
 Viola instantly sought for their lamp, and 
 bringing it to him as soon as she had made 
 it burn, he knelt down by the side of het 
 mother, and was beginning to speak, when 
 the light flashing upon her countenance, 
 disclosed to him a complexion so ghastly, 
 and features so utterly deprived of anima- 
 tion, that starting, and thrown off his guard, 
 he exclaimed : 
 
 <« Oh^ Edmund ! — She is dying !*' 
 
 A tremour seized the horror-struck Yiola 
 that shook lier v^hole frame: ahnost dying 
 herself, she fell speeciiless upon the side of 
 the bed, and lay extended like one sud- 
 denly struck down by a flash of lightning. 
 
 Bitterly reproaching himself for his want 
 of caution, Fitz Aymer raised, and carried 
 her out upon the lerrace; brought her 
 water, and used every means in his power 
 to restore her suspended animation. It was 
 long ere she recovered sufficiently to be 
 able to speak : but when her perceptions 
 were fully returned, her first wish was to go 
 back to her mother. Fitz Aymer supported 
 her yet tottering steps, and with feelings
 
 194; TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 nearl}^ as solemn as her own, approached 
 the sufferer's couch. 
 
 Both now knelt, and gently united in 
 raising her: Viola then applied to her 
 parched mouth a beverage prepared from 
 the cooling juice of the lime, some portion 
 of which she saw, with renovated hope, 
 that Lady Earlingford made a successful 
 attempt to swallow. — Shortly after, she 
 gained, though faintly, the power of 
 speech : — " Fitz Aymer," said she, gasping 
 for breathy " 1 feel that I am dying! — terror 
 has completed whatdiseasehad begun — 1 am 
 dying — and this unhappy child will, ere 
 long, have no friend, no protector upon earth 
 save yourself! — Will you be faithful to the 
 trust? — Will you, now, at this awful mo- 
 ment, and in the presence of that God I have 
 so lately seen you worship, — will you give 
 me your sacred word of honour— your word 
 as a christian,— -as a being assured of an here- 
 after, and conscious of hisown responsibility, 
 — to guard, sustain, and be the righteous de- 
 fender of this innocent and ill-fated crea- 
 ture?** 
 
 A^iola, almost suffocated by her sobs, 
 seized one of her mother's hands, and
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 19^ 
 
 ''covering i t with kisses and with tears, found 
 it difficult to refrain from giving vent to the 
 iBost piercing cries of anguish and despair, 
 Fitz Aymer, meanwhile, too fatally cer- 
 tain that Lady Earlingford spoke propheti- 
 cally of her own approaching end, and eagef 
 to give her every assurance that could con- 
 tribute to sooth her feelings, bound himself 
 in the strongest terms he could devise, to 
 fulfil in all respects the charge which she 
 had imposed upon him. His energy both 
 of looks and voice, and the undissembled 
 sorrow which she saw in his countenance, 
 aflPected her profoundly. She feebly pressed 
 his hand ;— a tear glistened in her dim eye; 
 and after a moment*s hesitation: "You 
 have shewn yourself," said she, "on every 
 occasion, since we met in this desert, a 
 better man than the world reports you.— 
 We owe you much, Fitz Aymer ;— -above 
 ai^/oweyou the justice of acknowledging 
 that my prejudices against you are done 
 away ;-— that I believe you to be honour- 
 able, sincere, and capable of much right 
 feeling.— This conviction encourages, and 
 the urgency of the moment, compels me, 
 to lay open to you my whole heart. The
 
 196 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 period for concealment is past; — you must 
 now be told all, —you must now be told 
 that the helpless being whom I have con- 
 fided to your honour, — whom with my 
 dying breath I bequeath to your guardian- 
 ship, is — my daughter!" 
 
 Starting from his kneeling posture, — haJf 
 incredulous, and, at such an instant, half 
 reluctant to believe what, but the preceding 
 day, he would have heard with transport, — 
 Fitz Aymer gazed at the shrinking girl in 
 wild and speechless amazement. He saw 
 a thousand blitshing apparitions start into her 
 face;'"he saw an air of sensitive and retiring 
 modesty in her countenance, that struck * 
 conviction to his heart, and addressing her 
 with the deepest emotion, he exclaimed: 
 *«Is it indeed Viola I behold !— .She, who, 
 but so short a time since, was in possession 
 of every blessing which the world has to 
 bestow !— She who was so loved, so ad- 
 mired !— whose opening prospects were so 
 brilliant !— and now— poor, poor Viola!— 
 could you but read my heart, what unuttera- 
 ble pity would you find impressed upon it 1** 
 
 He stopped, too much affected to be able 
 to proceed ; but presently, recovering more '
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 197 
 
 firmness: "I here swear,'* resumed he, 
 solemnly taking her hand, and looking 
 upwards as he spoke—-" I here swear by all 
 my hopes of Heaven, to be to you a faith- 
 ful and devoted brother!— to respect you 
 with inviolable sanctity, and to preserve 
 you, whilst I have life, from every evil 
 which human vigilance can avert !'' 
 
 What were the feelings of Viola whilst 
 listening to this speech ?— Each word sunk 
 into her heart, and penetrated it with the 
 softest gratitude ;— she extended to him her 
 hand, and regarding him through her tears 
 with looks of kindness and implicit reliaace, 
 said: "These soothing assurances, generou3 
 Fitz Aymer, are such precisely as I should 
 have expected from you ;-— and when, alas! 
 could they have been more seasonably 
 given V 
 
 Lady Earlingford, feeble as she was, drew 
 her daughter nearer, and imprinted a tender 
 kiss upon her cheek: then, raising her 
 glazed and heavy eye towards Fitz Ayin^r: 
 "To me,^' cried she, "another sun vvili 
 not arise !— to this angel, its return will 
 bring only anguish and desolation.-— Bear 
 with the vehemence of her first grief, Fitz 
 K 3
 
 198 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 Aymer :-— console, support her; speak 
 peace to her distracted heart ;-— and, i ad- 
 jure you ! expose her not (if to avoid such 
 an evil be possible) to the gaze of the lawless 
 wretches who now infest this island V 
 
 " Can you believe such a caution neces- 
 sary, dearest Lady Earl iiju ford ? Even as 
 Edmund I shrunk from the idea of exposing 
 her to their observation :---as Viola^ they 
 shall gain access to her, only by forcing 
 themselves a passage hither over my man- 
 gled body!" 
 
 *' Where have you left them ?" 
 
 "In order, as much as possible, to keep 
 them aloof from hence, I compelled myself 
 to make them an offer of sharing my cabin, 
 till the construction of the one which they 
 meditate is completed.-— They are both 
 gone to rest.'' 
 
 Calmed by this intelligence, Lady Ear- 
 lingl'ord gently withdrew herself from Vio- 
 la's support, and expressed a wish again to 
 lie down. During nearly an hour, she re- 
 mained perfecti}/ still, except that at inter- 
 vals her hands were slightly convulsed, and 
 her lips moved, as if in inward prayer:— but 
 tier respiration, denoting the most painful
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 199 
 
 tightness, was drawn with a degree of 
 effort which seemed to threaten that every 
 breath would be her last. Viola, trembling^ 
 at these symptoms, withdrew not her eyes 
 an instant from her face ; whilst Fitz Ay- 
 mer, sighing at the impending catastrophe, 
 of which every fresh observation confirmed 
 the dancrer, paced slowly up and down the 
 cave; stopping occasionally to contemplate 
 with sorrowing looks the almost cadaverous 
 countenance of the mother,"-or to whisper 
 to the heart-breaking daughter a few words 
 of deep and unfeigned commiseration. 
 
 At length the weak accents of that voice 
 they dreaded, ere long, never to hear againv 
 reached their attentive ears. Viola bent 
 down her head, and suspending her own 
 breath while she listened, heard her mother 
 ask to be once more assisted in sitting up. 
 Fitz Aymer instantly approached to give his 
 aid; and Lady Earlingford then, with a faint 
 and temporary renewal of strength, said, 
 '* I would fain try,— 1 would fain, my Viola, 
 ere these eyes are closed for ever, employ 
 them for the last time in addressing to your 
 father a few momentous lines. On the 
 success of this attempt, your fate, dearest
 
 500 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 child, may rest.— Pray forme, then ; — pray 
 that I may have the ability to execute the 
 purpose I have so much at heart !— We are 
 not without the means of writing ;•— give 
 me paper, give me whatever is needful, 
 and hold me up whilst I make the effort/' 
 
 She was obeyed in every particular; Fitz, 
 Aymer retreating whilst with shaking and 
 unsteady fingers she slowly wrote ; and 
 Viola turning aside her head, that she might 
 Jbe equally guiltless of overlooking the blot- 
 ted and irregular lines. AYhen, at last, her 
 task was accomplished, Lady Earlingford 
 delivered the paper, folded, but unsealed, 
 into her daughter's hands. " Should you,'* 
 paid she, " be so bltssed as hereafter to find 
 yourself restored to your surviving parent, 
 give him this writing;— -tell him that it was 
 my final— -my dying act!— -Confirm to him 
 the assurance which it contains that I con- 
 sidered it as a testimentary declaration of 
 my last wishes. --Read it, however, your- 
 self, beloved girl, ere you present it to him ; 
 and if it contains one sentence which you 
 then would- wish to. erase, destroy it;— its 
 design would be annulled.^* 
 
 By her looks only could Viola promise
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 201 
 
 obedience; her voice was impeded by sighs 
 and tears. Lady Earlingford, though nearly 
 exhausted by the exertion she had been 
 making, beckoned Fitz Ayaierto approach, 
 and struggling for power to be heard, said : 
 *' This grieving girl is in no state to under- 
 take the task : but will you, dear Fitz Ay- 
 mer, be her substitute ? Will you read 
 prayers by me ? — They would strengthen 
 and compose us a//, and to 7ne they would 
 be the best preparation for the awful change 
 which I am about to experience.'* 
 
 Fitz Aymer brought the book, and sum- 
 moning all his firmness, began, in a sub- 
 dued but unfaltering voice, the sacred ser- 
 vice. Scarcely, however, had he pronounc- 
 ed three sentences, when a strange inex- 
 plicable noise, loud, though not very near, 
 disturbed the solemnity in which they were 
 engaged, and interrupted the death-likg still* 
 ness of tlie night. Parent and child both 
 started, and each, with a hand fast locked 
 ill that of the other, awaited in breathless 
 dismay the event of so extraordinary and 
 unseasonable a rumour. In a ie\w seconds* 
 the sound recurred, and aever was jell more 
 K 5
 
 309 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 piercing or discordant heard : a criminal, 
 stretched upon the rack, could not have sent 
 forth groans and alternate shrieks of greater 
 torment. At times, the distracting outcry 
 remained stationary; then, seeming to 
 retreat, it gradually subsided, and, for 
 awhile, was wholly discontinued : but be- 
 ginning again, the next minute, with aggra- 
 vated fury, the air resounded with the 
 iiendish clamour, and the hearts of the two 
 panic-struck females died within them. 
 
 Fitz Aymer, who, perfectly sensible of its 
 source, had at the very beginning of the fran- 
 tic vociferation rushed towards the exterior 
 of the cave, now returned, and observing the 
 alarm it had created, hastened to explain 
 its origin: " These outrageous screams,*' 
 cried he, *' the joint effects of intoxication 
 and bodily pain, proceed from the elder of 
 the two Frenchmen. He wanders thus? 
 during the greater part of every night; and 
 the instant I heard him, I was so well aware 
 who was approaching, that being bent upon 
 preventing every chance of his intrusion hi- 
 ther, I stationed myself on the platform to 
 watch his movements. He passed the fooS
 
 THE SHIPWRECK, 205 
 
 of the rock, but made no effort to ascend, 
 and is now pursuing his niad ramble in a 
 wholly different direction/' 
 
 Lady Earlingford heard him not. — Every 
 new emotion in her present critical state, was 
 calculated to produce fatal consequences. 
 Before the return of Fitz Aymer, she had 
 become senseless ; and after a succession 
 of fainting fits, in the intervals of which she 
 neither recovered the power of speech, nor 
 any apparent consciousness of the objects 
 around her, she expired at dawn of day, 
 without a struggle, and without a sigh 1
 
 204 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 -Like some 
 
 Celestial delegate from Heaven, 
 Arm'd in the strength of virtue, with a glance 
 ' Severe in youthful bounty,' she o'erawes 
 The aim of guilt, and makes it quail beneath 
 Her calm, collected eye. 
 
 A CALAMITY SO sudden, a Joss so griev- 
 ous and irremediable, not only overwhelm- 
 ed the faculties of the unhappy Viola, 
 but seemed for awhile to petrify and sub- 
 due the firmer mind of Fitz Aymer. Yet, 
 now was the moment that called imperi- 
 ously for all the exertions which gratitude 
 to the memory of the deceased, and sym- 
 pathy for her wretched survivor, could dic- 
 tate. Viola left an orphan, and committed 
 solely to his care — Viola, half expiring 
 with grief — bereaved of every tie — mourn- 
 ing over the remains of her only natural 
 friend — Viola thus circumstanced, was an 
 ©bject to him of such tender compassioo.
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. '^03 
 
 such boundless interest, that no parent, 
 trembling for the life of an adored child, 
 could have witnessed the pungency of her 
 sorrow with more terror of its effect upon 
 her mind and frame. That sorrow, ' not 
 loud, but deep,* was of a character to pene- 
 trate his very soul.— Extended beside the 
 breathless body; her arms twined round it, 
 her face deluged with tears, her chest heav- 
 ing with sobs — no articulate sentence 
 escaped her, save, that, now and then, the 
 word " Mother,'* murmured i-n the most 
 plaintive accents, stole through her pale 
 lips. She sometimes, with more impetuous 
 anguish, half arose, and bending over the 
 lifeless form, gazed upon it wildly; touched 
 its hands, its cheeks — listened to hear it 
 breathe— and when every hope again for- 
 sook her, looked up through her tears, with 
 appealing eyes, to Heaven, and sunk once 
 more beside the corse, 
 
 Fitz Aymer, during many hours, never 
 left the poor mourner, never withdrew from 
 her his considerate attention a moment. 
 Felix, meanwhile, unconscious of the sad 
 event of the night, awoke at his usual time; 
 and surveying, first, the ghastly form near
 
 206 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 which he had been sleeping, and then the 
 anguished countenance of Viola, a senti- 
 ment of undefinable terror seized him, and 
 pale, wondering, and scared, he crept to 
 the friend under whose protection he was 
 always secure of comfort, and insinuating 
 himself within his arms, there felt restored 
 again to confidence and serenity. 
 
 An acuteness of affliction such as Viola 
 experienced, could not be so long sustain- 
 ed, without producing, as Fitz Aymer had 
 dreaded, injurious effects upon her health. 
 Weakened, shivering — her cheeks now 
 glowing with unnatural brilliancy, now ex- 
 hibiting the wan hue of approaching illness, 
 she awakened in him so much alarm, that 
 discarding all scruples of breaking in upon 
 her grief, he hastily deposited Felix upon 
 the ground, snatched her up in his arms, 
 and without giving her time to expostulate, 
 bore her to the entrance of the cave. There, 
 placing her upon the turf, he adjured her 
 not to abandon herself to such unavailing, 
 such unresisted distress; — he told her, that 
 upon her life his every chance of happiness 
 depended; he reminded her of the recent 
 consent she had given to accept his pro-
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 207 
 
 tection and friendship; and then added: 
 «' Is it by yielding yourself a prey to de- 
 spondency and death, dear Viola, that you 
 would prove to me the sincerity of your 
 professed reliance on that friendship ? Ah, 
 no ! live to bear testimony to your sur- 
 viving kindred, that I have been a faithful 
 executor of your mother's latest wishes; — 
 live to justify her confidence in my pro. 
 mises ; live to assuage, since, alas ! you 
 are doomed to partake, the discomforts of 
 my adverse lot. Who have we now left to 
 expect counsel, pity, consolation from, but 
 each other ? We must participate in every 
 sorrow, and reciprocate every alleviation. — 
 Speak tome, Viola! Your silence is un- 
 kind; it throws me to an unmerited dis- 
 tance from you and your concerns ! Ah, 
 can you doubt the genuine, the fervent 
 share I take in your just affliction !" 
 
 At first, Viola, her head beating with into- 
 lerable pain, her senses giddy and confused, 
 listened to him with no apparent conscious- 
 ness of what she heard : but by degrees, the 
 agitation with which he spoke awakened 
 her attention, and the kindness of his Ian-
 
 20S TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 guage forced its way to the feeling and 
 trusting heart it was so well calculated to 
 touch. Tears of less agony than those 
 which she had hitherto shed, strayed 
 gently down her cheeks ; she rested her 
 aching forehead upon his shoulder, and felt, 
 even in that early stage of her unhappiness, 
 the inestimable value of a soother in the 
 hour of misfortune : '' Fitz Aymer,'* she 
 softly cried, "have patience with me 1— 
 Allow for the helpless sadness of one whose 
 mind seems reduced to a state of gloomy 
 vacuity ; who dares not yet contemplate 
 •with steadiness the magnitude of her cala- 
 mity. — I am not insensible of your sym- 
 pathy, neither will I be deaf to your friendly 
 exhortations. I will do my utmost to sub^ 
 mit as i ought to this dreadful infliction ;— 
 I will pray for fortitude — I will look up to 
 Heaven for support: — but, oh! Fitz Ay- 
 mer — you must give me time ! — you must 
 be indulgent to me in this first hour of dis- 
 may ! — I cannot yet — indeed 1 cannot, 
 shew the resignation you would urge !*' As 
 she spoke, a fresh burst of sorrow overcame 
 her, and for some minutes a raiournful and
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. SOD 
 
 mutual silence prevailed, interrupted only 
 by the deep sighs that tore her bosom, 
 and were echoed by her grieving compa- 
 nion. 
 
 After awhile, regaining more compo- 
 sure : " Many," cried she, ''' have known 
 the species of sorrow 1 endure, but who 
 has ever known it under circumstances so 
 disastrous ? Many have lost a parent, but 
 who ever experienced the aggravations of 
 such a loss which I am sentenced to suffer? 
 I need not to you^ Fitz Aymer, point out 
 their singular wretchedness: — ^^you feel for 
 the cruelty of my situation, and must be 
 aware of all its accompanying evils; yet^ 
 whilst I had a mother — and such a mo- 
 ther ! — even in this desert, i never knew a 
 fear which she had not the kind art of ap- 
 peasing: in her vigilance I placed my trust; 
 to her foresight I committed my security; 
 to her direction consigned my actions :•— 
 she felt for me, if but a passing breeze blew 
 on my cheek too roughly ; she mourned 
 for me, if but a dream disturbed the calm- 
 ness of my slumber ; she trembled for me, 
 if but for an hour she missed me from her 
 guardian presence ! —-and shall not /, frora
 
 ^10 TALES or FANCY* 
 
 whom she is now separated for ever — shall 
 not 1 weep, mourn, lament for her !'^ 
 - *' Yoifr tears, dear Viola," cried Fits? 
 Aymer, deeply affected by these fond com- 
 plaints, " are but too natural, and Heaven 
 forbid that 1 should censure the tenderness 
 which causes them to flow. It was the 
 mute, the uocommuijicated anguish, prey- 
 ing upon your closed-up heart, that shock- 
 ed, that disturbed me so acutely. Half 
 a day longer spent in such speechless agony 
 would have destroyed you. Do but talk 
 to me of your re^ret-^do but admit me to 
 share in your filial urief, and I will com- 
 plain no more. She whom you lament — 
 did she not, when I was disabled and suffer- 
 ing, treat me as a son ? Did •she not forego 
 her rest to attend upon me? Did she not 
 heal me by her care, and revive me by her 
 kindness ? And are these, proofs of bene- 
 volence which 1 can ever forget ? No ; I 
 loved her, I honoured her as if she had 
 given me birth : — it will at all times be a 
 Sfratification to me, thoui^h a mournful one, 
 to speak of her ; to hear you record her 
 virtues, and proclaim the fondness which 
 she so deservedly inspired/'
 
 THE SHIPWKECK. Sll 
 
 The unwelcome sound of a loud and 
 harsh voice, impatiently reiterating the 
 name of Fitz Aymer, here broke in upon 
 their melancholy conference, and drovie 
 Viola feartuliy back into the cave. 
 
 " I must, alas!" said her reluctant com- 
 panion, " quit you for a short time. The 
 voice is that of the junior Frenchman, 
 whom, last night, little foreseeing tlie inter* 
 vening misfortune that awaited us, I pro- 
 mised to accompany to-day to the rocks 
 amongst which his boat is wd^ed He 
 wishes me to examine its coiinition, and to 
 assist in deciding upon tne practicability of 
 puttinpj it in repair. He is contentious, 
 and, entirely to disappoint him, might oc- 
 casion between us an open breach; or, 
 which would be worse, might so sharpen 
 his curiosity, that in exploring every nook 
 to discover me, he would at last come 
 upon us unawares in this retreat.'^ 
 
 " Oh, then, go," cried Viola, changing 
 colour at the thought; "• go to him without 
 further delay ! i know- — 1 feel persuaded, 
 that you will not remain absent longer than 
 prudence renders absolutely necessary.*' 
 
 " Ah, rest assured, most dear Viola, that
 
 212 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 the instant I can leave hitn without awaken* 
 ing suspicion, I shall fly back to the spot 
 where all my wishes centre! It grieves 
 nie to lose sight of you, at such a period, 
 even for an instant : — but what remedy 
 have I r" 
 
 '^ None, none 1 You must go, nor am I 
 so unreasonable as to wish to detain you." 
 
 Fitz Ayroer then unwillingly compelled 
 himself to depart. 
 
 Left now alone, with the sad spectacle 
 before her of her mother's pale remains, 
 (for Felix had accompanied his friend) 
 Viola's ieelings were so complicated, her 
 amazement at her own orphan state was so 
 extreme— the recollection of Lady Earling- 
 ford in full vigour and animation was so 
 freshly present to her memory, that her 
 grief, her horror, were almost suspended by 
 wonder how such a speedy reverse could be 
 possible ! Had she not, but a few hours be- 
 fore, felt the pressure of the hand now rigidly 
 immoveable } Had she not seen the eye, 
 now closed in death, then turned upon her 
 with even an augmentation of its accus- 
 tomed tenderness ? Did not the impression 
 of those livid lips still seem warm upon her
 
 THE SHIFWKECK. 915 
 
 cheek ? And so suddenly, so dreadfully, 
 was every function of vitality at an end ? 
 " Oh, my mother!" she exclaimed, " can 
 I bear thus to lose you? You, whose in- 
 dulgent attachment— whose gentle firmness, 
 rendered you, alike in joy or in sorrow, the 
 object towards whom my heart invariably 
 turned ! With all a parent's authority, you 
 had all the endearing kindness of a friend : 
 you were formed to encourage confidence, 
 as much as to secure respect. I never dis- 
 guised from you a thought of my heart ; 
 and so mild, so tolerant did I uniformly 
 find you, that though I derived instruction 
 from your counsels, f never experienced 
 embarrassment from your rigour. Who 
 will love me, my excellent mother! as ^ou 
 have loved me? Your's was a tenderness 
 so unalterable, so disinterested, so indisso- 
 lubly interwoven with your own existence, 
 that nothing could have shaken it. In sick- 
 tiess, in the most abject circumstances, 
 nay, even in disgrace, you, my mother, 
 would have cherished, sustained, and — 
 pardoned me ! Oh, in this hour of terrible 
 anguish,*' continued she, dropping on her 
 knees, *' how fearful to me is the remem-
 
 314 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 brance of every duty I omitted to perform ; 
 ---of every injunction I failed to obey ;— of 
 every sacrifice I neglected to acknowledge ! 
 —Look down upon me, O my sainted 
 mother ! with forgiveness.— Faultless your- 
 self, you merited a more faultless daughter !" 
 
 Had Fitz Aymer— had any one who ever 
 knew her in her filial character, heard these 
 harassing self-reproaches, how superfluous 
 would they have deenied them! But in 
 moments of intense and recent affliction, 
 the conscience is even morbidly tender; it 
 construes the slightest errors into crimes, 
 and dwells upon the virtues of a departed 
 friend, till every thing that, in the survivor, 
 came short of the same excellence, assumes 
 the aspect of wilful guilt:— a thousand 
 merits not duly valued, a thousand obliga- 
 tions unrequited, recur to the memory; 
 •' and we wish, vainly wish, for that friend's 
 return, not so much that we may receive, 
 as that we may b< stow happiness, and re^ 
 compense that kindness which before glided 
 from our minds without impression/'* 
 
 Whilst by these too scrupulous regrets 
 
 * Johnson.
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. ^15 
 
 poor Viola was heightening the misery that 
 already oppressed her, she suddenly started^ 
 -— listened---and fancied that, borne upon 
 the breeze, she could hear the distant voice 
 of altercation.. A few instants served to 
 convince her that it was no delusion: the 
 sounds became more distinct : they pro- 
 ceeded from the beach, and Fitz Aymer, 
 she became assured, was a party in the con- 
 test. All the blood in her veins rushed 
 to her heart, wliich throbbed so tumultu- 
 ously, that it seemed bursting from her 
 bosom, hhe crept, scarcely knowing what 
 she did, to the outlet of the cave; listened 
 again,— advanced insensibly to the edge 
 of the terrace, and casting down from it an 
 apprehensive look, descried, upon the sands 
 below, a sight which, at the first glance, 
 almost exterminated her!— Fitz Aymer, 
 wrestling with a man of gigantic stature, 
 and apparently in momentary danger of 
 l^eing overpowered, was, to complete her 
 horror, menaced with treachery from a 
 second enemy; who, seeking to approach 
 him unobserved, and armed with a sort of 
 bludgeon, was cautiously advancing in his 
 rear. This was the elder Frenchman ; the
 
 S16 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 vile father of as vile a son. A scene fraught 
 with such imminent peril to her only friend, 
 produced upon V^iola an effect almost super- 
 natural. In a moment it braced her nerves, 
 dispelled all personal timidity, and endowed 
 her vvith the energy of desperation. Quick 
 as thought, she darted back into the cave, 
 —seized one of the pistols which had been 
 foulid in the chest, and which she well re- 
 membered that Fitz Aymer had cleaned 
 and loaded but a few days before,— -flew, 
 swifter than lightning, down the steep rock, 
 and just as the old man had drawn near 
 enough to strike his meditated victim,— 
 just as Fitz Aymer, panting, and nearly 
 exhausted, seemed sinking under the efforts 
 of his Herculean adversary,— stood, like a 
 guardian angel, at his side ; and, placing the 
 pistol within his grasp, dauntlessly cried : 
 ** Defend your life, Fitz Aymer!— A fiend 
 
 lurks behind you ! Save — defend your 
 
 lifer 
 
 The uplifted bludgeon fell from the old 
 man's hand, who, ruffian as he was, beheld 
 so unexpected an apparition with astonish- 
 ment amounting nearly to superstitious 
 awe. The son, seeing his antagonist armed.
 
 TliE SHIPWRIlCK. 517 
 
 «]1 at once, in so forniidable a manner, dis- 
 continued the unequal combat ; and retreat- 
 ing slowly and sullenly, glared upon Viola as 
 Jie passed with all the rancour of baffled vil- 
 lany, — A' iola neither marked^ nor now any 
 longer thought of him. Enraptured by the 
 swift cessation of hostility vvhich her well- 
 timed interference had occasioned, she ad- 
 dressed to Heaven a fervent ejaculation of 
 thanks, — and turning from the spot, was me- 
 ditating to regain her sanctuary, when Fitz 
 Aymer, whom admiration of her courage, 
 amazement at her presence, and a thousand 
 indefinable emotions of gratitude and sen- 
 sibility, had hitherto held immoveable, flew 
 impetuously after her: " My preserver! 
 my benefactress!'* he cried. " Oh, how 
 shall I find language to express half I feel ! 
 •—Generous Viola ! for me, what have you 
 not braved! — Yourabhorrenceof these men, 
 —your terror of detection, — your habitual 
 timidity, — how nobly have you surmounted 
 them all ! — Oh, may I but, at some future 
 d-ay, have the ability to prove the deep 
 sense I entertain of the obligation you have 
 conl'erred upon me !" 
 
 The stimulous withdrawn which had lent
 
 218 TALES OP FANCY. 
 
 to Viola such unaccustomed power of 
 exertion, her spirits sunk in proportion to 
 the vehemence with which they had been 
 agitated. She sat down on a low bank 
 near the late scene of contention, and, 
 relapsing into all her wonted timorousness, 
 dejectedly said : '' Ah, Fitz Aymer, do 
 not magnify an act of sudden and resistless 
 impulse into a deed of deliberate resolution ! 
 —I saw the hand of an assassin suspended 
 over you, — and I rushed instinctively to 
 save you : — but I am a very coward at 
 heart ! — The ferocity of these monsters 
 makes me tremble ; and voluntarily to face 
 them again, would, I believe, surpass my 
 utmost fortitude. — Oh, never, never let 
 them find you unarmed ! Wear one or both 
 of these pistols constantly about you. — 
 We are beset here by murderers, and your 
 life is only safe whilst you are known to 
 have at hand the means of overawing their 
 practised villany. — But where is poor 
 Felix ?" 
 
 *' He must have passed you as you came 
 down from the cavern. My quarrel with 
 the young Frenchman originated, in some 
 measure, on his account; and when my
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. f 19 
 
 Opponent and I came to action, I charged 
 the terrified boy to take refuge with you. 
 We will now, dearest Viola, go in quest of 
 him ; and as we proceed, 1 will relate to 
 you the rise and progress of the late affray. 
 Lean upon me, my sister; you are faint, 
 and seem scarcely able to stand ;"-lean 
 upon the arm^ which, but for you, would, 
 ere now, have been levelled with the dust/* 
 
 Viola accepted the welcome support ; 
 and, whilst ascending slowly the path 
 which with such velocity she had recently 
 ran down, Fitz Aymer recounted to her the 
 following particulars. 
 
 " When I joined," said he, " after com- 
 pelling myself to pfirtfrom you, this insolent 
 Lamotte, the reception which he gave me 
 was as coarse as it was unprovoked, impa- 
 tient of solitude, (that I can forgive!) and 
 encroachingly eager to avail himself of my 
 promised assistance in regard to the boat, 
 he took the unlicensed freedom of reproach- 
 ing me in a very high tone for my long 
 defection, and, as he was pleased to say, 
 evident intention of evading the engage- 
 ment into which I had entered. I am not 
 very tolerant of vulgar presumption: but 
 
 L 2
 
 520 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 wishing, on many accounts, to avoid a dis- 
 pute with this man, 1 told him, without any 
 visible signs of anger, that I had been 
 attending upon a sick friend ; and that, 
 under such circumstances, the remembrance 
 of the boat had escaped me. Increduhjus, 
 or affecting to appear so, he sneeringly de- 
 manded where this invisible friend had 
 sprung from ?— 1 now began to lose my 
 compulsory forbearance, and answered in- 
 dignantly : * I shall attend to no interroga- 
 tions addressed to me with such arrogance. 
 We are wholly independent of each other; 
 and after such a specimen of your exacting 
 and troublesome disposition, I think myself 
 fully justified in withdrawing from you all 
 liope of any future service. You may, if 
 you choose it, take possession, with your 
 diseased father, of my cabin, and the few 
 accommodations which it contains: but 
 my linen, tools, and whatever other effects 
 I may think it w^orth wliile to retain, I shall 
 jremove at my leisure: — henceforward, our 
 property and interests must be as distinct 
 as our character and manners.' 
 
 " The miscreant/' continued Fitz Aymer, 
 <* blustered and hectored most outrageously
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 521 
 
 on hearino-thisdeclaration: but, fixing upon 
 him a stern and steady eye, [ bade defiance to 
 his threats, and taking Felix by the hand, 
 was preparing to depart. At that moment, 
 the vindictive brute, roughly, and with a 
 !f^^l^ !?^ *^^'^^^^ seized upon the affriHitecl 
 
 bOV, anu SWUJC max ijc TTi>trivi Ki^r^M v^,iz^i\^ 
 
 him till I had retracted every word I had 
 spoken. This was not to be borne ! — I lost 
 all temper, and aimed at him a furious 
 blow :— of course it was instantly returned ; 
 and the conflict which you witnessed, and 
 so seasonably terminated, ensued,*' 
 
 " And now," cried the foreboding Viola, 
 " having throvvn aside the mask, and being 
 at declared enmity with you, what atrocity- 
 may he not, either by force or fraud, en«- 
 deavour to perpetrate against you !— Oh, be 
 wary, be circumspect, Fitz Aymer!— Let 
 me not," she tremulously added, " be de- 
 prived also of i/ou/'' 
 
 " I will act, move, speak," cried Fitz 
 Aymer, " but by your direction ! — You 
 shall be the sole guide of my conduct. 
 The dread of leaving you without a friend, 
 —of leaving you in the power of such un- 
 principled vagabonds, will make of me the 
 L 3
 
 329 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 most cautious, the most guarded of men, 
 
 Tranquillise yourself, dear Viola : the evil 
 
 which I most fear, is that of seeing you 
 
 sink under the accumulation of so much 
 
 wretchedness and terror." 
 
 " Whilst vou remain with me," answered 
 a^ii^, xnraj^iru^giu lo support existence : 
 
 — should I lose you, short, I trust, would 
 
 be the period of my prolonged sufferings! 
 
 — On your life, Fitz Aymer, mine must 
 
 henceforth depend ;— and to know, to feel, 
 
 that I should be unable to survive you, is 
 
 the only consolation now remaining to me I" 
 
 Fitz Aymer knew too w^ell how moment- 
 ous were the reasons that necessarily in- 
 duced her to think his life so important; 
 and felt no vanity from a declaration vvhich^ 
 under other circumstances, might have 
 flattered him so highly :---" It is too true," 
 cried he; ''we must, indeed, live or die 
 together! You cannot— neither have I the 
 courage to wish that, in this spot, you 
 should survive me/' 
 
 '^ Short as my career has been," resumed 
 Viola, " I have already endured much—, 
 drank deeply of the cup of adversity : but 
 hitherto I have always been supported by
 
 tHE SHIP^VRECK. 3^23 
 
 the presence of some being in whom I could 
 place confidence. On arriving here, the 
 association of my dearest mother to my 
 mournful destiny, bereft it of half its bitter- 
 ness ; and not only gave me strength to 
 live, but even gave, at intervals, a charm to 
 life. Such now,— why should I hesitate 
 to confess it — such now is the influence 
 which your kindness, your brotherly sym- 
 pathy, profluces upon my mind. You 
 cannot replace the incomparable friend I 
 have lost ;— at least you can never dislodge 
 her from my heart : — but your participa^ 
 tion in my sorrow ;-^-your benevolent con*- 
 cern for a fate to which your own bear3 
 but too great a resemblance, and the cer- 
 tainty of possessing in you a zealous pro- 
 tector, gift me with resolution to contem- 
 plate without despair every danger but that 
 of being bereaved of your supp.)rt.'^ 
 
 The unsuspecting reliance, the ' plain and 
 holy innocence' of this language, touched 
 Fitz Aymer very sensibly, and bound him 
 more firmly than ever to her service. Where 
 no distrust was entertained, it would have 
 been superfluous to pour forth professions: 
 but he internally renewed the oath he had 
 L 4
 
 ^^4. TALES OP FANCY. 
 
 sworn to this lovely creature's mother,— 
 the oath of being just and faithful in the 
 discharge of his guardian office. 
 
 Being now arrived at the entrance of the 
 cavern, they called anxiously upon the 
 name of Felix. The poor child, scarcely 
 ;yet recovered from the terror which the 
 violence of the Frenchman had caused him, 
 sat dejected and half concealed amongst the 
 branches of a (hx)oping shrub growing upoa 
 the platform. Fitz Aymer drew him from 
 his leafy retreat, rejoicing to have found 
 bim, and easily conjecturing tiiat he had 
 been induced to prefer it to the cave, oa 
 account of the mute and motionless tenant^ 
 who there inspired him vvith sacb inexpli* 
 Tcable awe*
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 22i 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 
 O Gods ! who is'fc can say, /'m at the zsorst ? - 
 
 Shakespear. 
 She neither weeps, 
 Nor sighs, norgroavis; too strong her agony 
 For outward sign of anguish, and for prayer 
 Too hopeless was the ill. 
 
 SOUTHEY. 
 
 Viola, at night, retired with Felix into 
 the inner recess of the cavern ; and, worn 
 out by fatigue and sorrow, obtained, not- 
 withstanding her melancholy vicinity to 
 the death-bed of her mother, a few hours 
 reprieve from suffering. Fitz Aymer threw 
 himself down on a fresh heap of grass and 
 leaves, in the outward cave. His pistols 
 were deposited beside him ; and he well 
 knew that his sleep was so light, it would 
 be impossible that any intruder should steal 
 upon him as he lay, without awaking him 
 in time to start up and stand on his defence. 
 Nothing, however, but the sound of distant 
 L 6
 
 S2G TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 thunder, and the descent of torrents of rain, 
 disturbed the tranquillity of the night. 
 These, Fitz Aymer had anticipated would 
 be the inevitable consequences of the in- 
 supportable heat which, during the two 
 preceding days, had prevailed. 
 
 In the morning, after Viola had risen, and 
 kindly though mournfully greeted him, he 
 went for a few moments to contemplate 
 with reverence the inanimate features of 
 his departed friend. The instant he cast 
 his eye upon them, he was forcibly struck 
 by the imperious necessity there seemed 
 already to have arisen of consigning the 
 honoured remains, w^ith as little delay as 
 possible, to their parent earth. He was 
 silent to Viola upon a subject which he was 
 well aware it would be agony to her to 
 Lear mentioned : but as soon as without 
 manifest abruptness he could leave her, he 
 went forth, followed by Felix, to fix upon 
 some secluded and appropriate spot where 
 he might begin the sad task of digging a 
 grave. 
 
 The situation which he chose, elevated, 
 yet screened on three sides by surrounding 
 rocks, was a patch of verdure, facing the
 
 THE SHIPWRECX. 227 
 
 sea, and decorated with one of the finest 
 trees which the island produced. It was 
 a banyan,* or Indian fig-tree, under whose 
 impenetrable shade a patriarchal tribe 
 might have found shelter. The mouldering 
 form of one individual required not so ample 
 a canopy : but Fitz Aymer selected it, 
 because it had been an object of frequent 
 admiration to the deceased; and because, 
 though not within view, it was near the 
 cavern. 
 
 * One of the latest and most descriptive accounts 
 of this magnificent tree, is to be found ia Percival's 
 History of Ceylon. — '' It grows," he says, *■' to an 
 immense size, but bears neither blossom nor fruitt 
 After rising to a great height, its branches drop down- 
 wards, and from their extremities shoot forth a number 
 of roots which hang suspended like icicles, till at 
 length they fasten themselves in the earth. From 
 these roots new shoots spring up, which in their 
 turn become trees, and thus a whole grove is pro- 
 duced from one original stock. The arches formed 
 by the numerously interwoven branches and shoots, 
 in time acquire the appearance of grottos and excava- 
 tions. It is common for the Indians to take up their 
 abode under these shades, and to remain stretched at 
 their ease, while every thing exposed to the rays of 
 the sun is scorched with intolerable heat."
 
 ?28 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 The rudely-constructed and imperfect 
 tools with which he had furnished Viola to 
 facilitate her gardening labours, served him 
 on this grievous occasion to break open the 
 earth, and prepare it for the reception of 
 the lamented relics it was about to cover. 
 His toil was rendered painful by the reflec- 
 tions which accompanied it; and before he 
 had accomplished half the undertaking, 
 Felix, who had found amusement in run- 
 ning to and fro under the arches of the 
 tree, occasionally extending his course to 
 the outside of the verdant labyrinth, flew 
 eagerly back to him, exclaiming, as he point- 
 ed towards the sea : " O, do go and look 
 what a nice boat there is upon the water 1** 
 
 The spade he held dropped from Fitz 
 Aymer*s hand, and rushing forward — his 
 eyes were blessed, his senses almost mad- 
 dened with sudden joy, on beholding a 
 European vessel, gliding majestically upon 
 the waves, at the distance of about three 
 quartersof a mile from the shore! — With- 
 out an instant's delay, he darted down the 
 rocks towards the beach ! and Felix, aware 
 that something extraordinary was the mat- 
 ter, impetuously followed.
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. f29 
 
 Viola, meanwhile, unconscious of what 
 was passing, maintained her sad and solitary 
 station in the cavern. Fitz Aymer, she con- 
 cluded, had repaired to thehut, ashe had told 
 her overnight he purposed doing, to fetch 
 away from it whatever effects he was dis- 
 inclined to leave in the possession of its 
 new occupiers. He was armed, and she 
 therefore felt no anxiety for his safety ; 
 yet his absence was in itself an aggravation 
 of her melancholy; and as its duration 
 encreased, she grew seriously appehensive 
 of some renewed contest with the hated 
 strangers. This painful idea led her to the 
 platform, to explore the whole range of 
 coast discoverable from its elevated site. 
 Eagerly as she gazed, intently asshelistened, 
 she neither saw nor heard any thing to con- 
 firm her fears: but she beheld a sky lower- 
 ing, and hazy; she observed the sea-birds 
 flying to land for shelter : and the hollovir 
 roar of the waves, though as yet there was 
 but liule wind, announced an approaching 
 storm. The view of the ocean thus per- 
 turbed was to Viola the most distressing 
 which she could have witnessed. Here 
 were all the presages which had forerun
 
 530 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 her own memorable shipwreck : the same 
 sounds in the air — the same gloominess of 
 atmosphere, and the same appearances of 
 mist spread over the whole surface of the 
 deep. She could bear to contemplate it 
 but a moment; the sight chilled her, and 
 she turned back into the cave. 
 
 But there, inactive and alone, she found 
 it impossible long to continue. The recol- 
 lection struck her, that from the eminence 
 on which grew the magnificent banyan tree, 
 a prospect of the coast wholly different from 
 that visible on their terrace was to be dis- 
 cerned. Thither she determined to go. 
 
 As she approached the well-known spot, 
 she beheld with profound emotion, and an 
 instantaneous consciousness of its design, 
 the vestiges of Filz Aymer's unfinished la- 
 bour. The dimensions of a grave«-could 
 she doubt whose grave ? — were distinctly 
 marked out, and its excavation begun : '' Oh, 
 why this dreadful haste '.''she cried, as with 
 streaming eyes she surveyed the melancholy 
 preparations. '* Why so impatient, Fitz Ay- 
 mer, to remove from my sight the loved 
 features, which, inanimate as they are, still 
 sooth me whilst I gaze upon them, with a,
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 231 
 
 feeling of maternal protection ! — I forget in 
 contemplating them, that I am an orphan; 
 she hears me not, yet I can speak to her ; 
 her. eye meets not mine, yet whilst I see 
 her, I can recal the look, the tone with 
 which she has regarded me — with which 
 she has spoken to me ! Oh, Fitz Aymer ! 
 is it you who would deprive me, with such 
 cruel precipitation, of the only means I now 
 have left of cheating the bitterness of 
 reality V 
 
 Whilst in plaintive accents these mur- 
 murs forced their way from her heart, once 
 more, and unconsciously, her eye rested 
 upon the ocean. There, with an emotion 
 not less powerful than Fitz Aymer had 
 experienced, but of a more mixed character, 
 she beheld the stately vessel ! Its appear- 
 ance seemed to hold forth a promise of libe- 
 ration, and she hailed it with grateful rap- 
 ture : yet, the reflection that her mother no 
 longer lived to share in this glad prospect, 
 penetrated like a dagger to her heart ! " But 
 one day sooner," she cried, *' had we but 
 one day sooner been permitted to witness 
 this blessed sight, how would it have re-ani- 
 mated her drooping spirit ! The happy re-
 
 ^39 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 vulsion in all her feelings might, perhaps, 
 have saved her life ! My poor, poor, mo- 
 ther ! How exquisite would have been 
 her joy!" 
 
 Almost blinded by the tears which this 
 idea drew from her, Viola dashed them off, 
 and with a sigh, again looked towards the 
 sea. Its agitation seemed to encrease ; 
 thick volumes of clouds^ heavy and low, 
 hung over its turbid surface^ and, at inter- 
 vals, emitted flashes of lightning, succeeded 
 by loud peals of thunder. Lar;j;e drops of 
 rain began to fall, and pattered upon the 
 trees, which, rustling and disquieted, sent 
 forth an incessant and indescribable sound, 
 prophetic of such impending mischief, that 
 Viola's heart felt sadder than ever; and a 
 thousand apprehensions assailed her for the 
 safety of those whom in imagination she 
 already beheld exposed to the violence of 
 the coming storm. She gazed at the vessel, 
 she listened to the hoarse roar of the waves, 
 the encreasing vehemence of the wind, till 
 half distracted with fear: " They, too,'' 
 sjie cried, ** will be dashed to pieces ! — Oh, 
 that 1 could warn them of th« ir danger! 
 Why, why do they linger near this fatal
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. ^33 
 
 coast! Poor souls! — I shall see them 
 amidst the billows, struggling against de- 
 struction, and have no power to assist them/' 
 
 Whilst thus agitating herself for the fate 
 of beings on whom she now no longer re- 
 posed her hopes of escape, a new object 
 met her view_, which arrested her whole 
 attention. A small boat (at least, from its 
 distance appearing small) suddenly emerged 
 from behind a high point of land to the left 
 of the spot on which siie stood, and with 
 incredible swiftness rowed towards the ship 
 which she had been so anxiously watching. 
 
 That Fitz Aymer, as well as herself, had 
 seen ti.e vessel, was obvious from the in- 
 complete state in which he had left the 
 grave. She doubted not that he had dis- 
 continued his labour to hasten to the beach, 
 elated with the prospect of speedy emanci- 
 pation ; and now represented him to her- 
 self, disappointed and filled with regret at 
 the impediment to his views which the 
 menacing aspect of the heavens interposed. 
 She longed again to behold him, to sooth 
 his disturbance, to hear what had passed 
 between him and the people in the boat ; 
 and above all, to know whether their em-
 
 $34 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 barkation was given up entirely, or only de- 
 ferred for some hours, till the turn the 
 weather would take could be ascertained. 
 
 From habitual reluctance to incur the 
 risk of meeting either of the Frenchmen^ 
 she hesitated some time whether to seek 
 for Fitz Aymer along the shore, or await 
 his return at the cave. The storm was 
 every instant becoming more furious, and 
 had she, generally speaking, been accessible 
 to «:reat alarm during these conflicts of the 
 elements, she would have decided upon re- 
 maining within reach of shelter. But was 
 not he whom she was so anxious to rejoin, 
 exposed to all the danoj-.T and turbulence of 
 the tempest ? And was her own security 
 more precious to her than his? Oh, no.—. 
 She determined therefore, commending her-» 
 self to the protection of Heaven, to descend 
 the rock. 
 
 The beach at \ts foot was solitary and de^ 
 {serted, but far from silent! The tumul- 
 tuous uproar with which the foaming waves 
 beat against it, was almost deafening ; and 
 so high did they rise, and so thick was the 
 vapoury spray they threw up, that, from the 
 low ground on which she now stood, it was
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. ^^d 
 
 impossible to descry any appearance either 
 of boat or ship. With difficulty was she 
 able, so roughly did the wind buffet against 
 her, to keep liv.. %et: yet, persevering in 
 her efforts, she still, though sIowiy,p,.rmied 
 hnp course towards the headland from be- 
 hind which she had seen the boat start so 
 vigorously forward. Having reached, and, 
 not without some hazard, for the surf 
 almost dashed against its base — made the 
 circuit of the little promontory, she found 
 concealed behind it a species of bay, or 
 rather creek, formed by the junction at that 
 spot of a narrow river with the sea. On 
 each side of it were h;gh and inaccessible 
 cliffs; and notwithstanding the violence of 
 the present storm, it was only near »ts en- 
 trance that the smoothness of this sheltered 
 inlet was m any degree ruffled : as it re- 
 ceded from the ocean, the stream became 
 so calm, that its own current alone seemed 
 to give movement to its surface. Here, 
 safely moored, lay the battered bark which 
 had floated the pirates to the island : but 
 here were no traces of Fitz Aymer, although 
 the print of many feet on the soft and 
 marshy banks shewed that very recently
 
 536 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 he, and probably many others, had been 
 treading on the spot. The circumstance of 
 iiiissing him at this creek could gi"- i--*- 
 but a momen*^^''j' ot-,,>;«-it!on of disappoint- 
 mciji. It was scarcely rational to have 
 supposed that in such weatlier he would, 
 after the departure of the boat, linger unne- 
 cessarily at the mouth of the river. He 
 was certainly gone back to the cavern, 
 though by a path different to the one which 
 she had pursued ; and all her own wishes 
 now pointed in the same direction. 
 
 To avert the chance however of missing 
 him a second time, she tried to recollect a 
 road which he had once shewn her, leading 
 to the cave from this very piomontory by a 
 more inland circuit. On that occasion, they 
 had passed the foot of the knoll on which 
 the cabin was erected. Should she find the 
 right track, she m-ght, without shewing 
 herself, ascertain, by listening to hear him 
 or Felix speak, whether he was there, or 
 whether he had proceeded straight forward 
 to the cavern. 
 
 With this intention she set out, well 
 aware that the course which she now meant 
 to follow was toilsome and rugged : but
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 937 
 
 most true, ' when the iiniid's free, the 
 body's delicate:' her Miiud was not at this 
 period in a state to recoil at partial iiicon- 
 veniencies; all she thought of was how to 
 accelerate, by any probable means, the meet- 
 ing for which she was so anxious. 
 
 Yet, she had not proceeded far, ere the 
 fury of tlie storm, which by this time seem- 
 ed to have attained its utmost height, put 
 her firmuess to the severest test. Flash 
 after flash, the lightning so perpetually 
 streamed across her, that pained by its 
 glare, she was often obliged to close her 
 eye-lids against its penetrating effulgence, 
 and to remain stationary till the power of 
 vision was restored. The earth seemed to 
 quake under her feet during the tremen- 
 dous claps of thunder which followed every 
 blaze of light ; and such was the irresistible 
 force of the wind, that many large trees 
 were torn up by the roots, and others, bend- 
 ing and crashing beneath the tempest, ap- 
 peared threatening the adventurous wan- 
 derer with destruction on every side. No 
 European storm had in any degree prepared 
 her for a tumult of nature so fcarf ,1 as this; 
 and but for the seasonable protection af-
 
 f38 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 forded her by the jutting rocks which often 
 bordered her path, she felt persuaded that, 
 during the sweepings of the blast, she would 
 have been dashed to the earth ; perhaps, 
 blown headlong down some steep and sharp- 
 pointed declivity. As she heard the roar- 
 ing gusts approaching, however, she fled 
 for refuge behind the nearest crag^ or threw 
 herself prostrate on the ground ; and when 
 the loud squall was overpast, resumed her 
 perilous way. 
 
 At length the cabin appeared in sight, 
 and she paused to survey it, though hope- 
 less, when shebeheld the condition to which 
 it was reduced, of finding him she sought 
 beneath its roof. Built of such frail mate- 
 rials, it had been unable to withstand the 
 violence of the wind, and was nearly half 
 demolished. She sighed on witnessing the 
 change which it had undergone; how dif- 
 ferent had been its aspect in all the bright- 
 ness of a sunny day, the first time that she 
 bad visited it ! How many social hours had 
 she spent within its boundary ! Now, torn, 
 defaced — and if any longer habitable at all, 
 occupied only by the most worthless of 
 wretches, it presented nothing to her view
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 23^ 
 
 but a scene of desolation, to which was as- 
 sociated the image of its miscreant resi- 
 dents. 
 
 She was passing on, saddened by the con- 
 trast, when a deep groan arrested her foot- 
 steps. It proceeded from the interior of 
 the little fabric, and she doubted not had 
 been uttered by the elder foreigner. She 
 detested him: yet a sound denoting pain, 
 whether mental or bodily, was never 
 heard by her wholly unmoved. She knew 
 that his son was shamefully inattentive to 
 him: perhaps the old man, too helpless to 
 provide for himself, was in want of food ; 
 perhaps the fall of some part of the building 
 had wounded him: should either be the 
 case, she felt that it was incumbent upon 
 her to succour him. Under this impression 
 she drew nearer, though slowly and irreso- 
 lutely, to the shattered tenement. In the 
 only remaining corner that was still capable 
 of affording him shelter, the forlorn old man 
 was lying stretched upon a piece of sail- 
 cloth, his eyes half shut, his lips moving, 
 yet uttering no articulate accents; his brow 
 contracted, and his whole countenance de- 
 iioting internal rage and agitation.
 
 f 40 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 Viola cautiously stepped towards him, 
 and speaking in Frencli, said, " Can I do 
 any thing for you? Are you ill? Has 
 any accident befallen you ?'* 
 
 Without raising his head — almost with- 
 out looking at her, he surlily answered: 
 >'No!'' 
 
 *' Where is your son ? V/hy does he 
 leave you so much alone ?'' 
 
 The question aroused all his dormant 
 fierceness; liis e3^es flashed fire ; and rais- 
 ing himself upon his elbow, he roared out: 
 " My son — ^accursed be the unnatural vil- 
 lain ! — is gone ! He has left the island. 
 I saw him ui a boat, and that boat was al- 
 ready half a mile from the shore V 
 
 The torrent of blasphemous imprecati- 
 ons which followed this sentence, made 
 Viola's blood curdle ; and though she sin- 
 cerely pitied, she was turning from him 
 with unconquerable disgust, when with a 
 sort of demoniac exultation, he savagely 
 added : " Yoii are forsaken too ! Your 
 scoundrel brother is gone also'/^ 
 
 Had Viola given a moment's credit to an 
 assertion so terrible, it would, thus abruptly 
 x:ommunicated, have killed her! But re-
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 241 
 
 yarding it as the mere offspring of malice 
 and cruelty, and incapable of doing Fitz 
 Aymer such injustice as to suffer her 
 trust in his good faith to be shaken by the 
 slander of a madman, she left the cabin 
 with heightened abhorrence of its tenant; 
 and almost regardless of the ravings of thfe 
 storm, bent all her energy towards accom* 
 plishing as speedily as possible her return 
 to the cave. There, she was assured, Fitz 
 Aymer would now be anxiously expecting 
 her; and there, and in his presence only, 
 could she hope to dissipate the vexatious 
 impression which her recent visit had left 
 upon her mind. 
 
 The same difficulties which she had hi- 
 therto encountered attended her progress 
 back ; but she conquered them almost me* 
 chanically. With no object but to regain 
 the cavern most speedily, she sprung over 
 chasms which at any other time she would 
 have trembled to approach ; and braved the 
 danger of the lightning, and the impetuosi- 
 ty of the blast, with an intrepidity that al- 
 most amounted to unconsciousness that 
 they had not yet subsided. 
 
 Her painful pilgrimage was however now 
 
 M
 
 242 TALES OP FANCY. 
 
 terminated, and she entered the cave: but 
 no friendly voice welcomed her return, and 
 vainly did her eager eyes explore its dark 
 recesses in search of the form which she 
 had so confidently expected to behold. 
 Fitz Aymer still was absent; and in defi- 
 ance of her strongest endeavours, a shade 
 of distrust began to gain involuntary ad- 
 mission into her thoughts. Yet, at first, 
 she repelled it with the most virtuous 
 firmness: but as time elapsed, it gained 
 strength ; and so great was its terror, that 
 she often found it difficult to forbear utter- 
 ing shrieks of anguish, and dashing her head 
 in all the frenzy of hopelessness against 
 the rocky floor. 
 
 The old man's assertion, disdainfully as 
 it had been slighted, recurred now like the 
 ominous cry of the raven, perpetually to 
 her imagination : " You are forsaken too !" 
 rung in her ears without ceasing. '^ If he 
 speaks true," in a low and inward voice 
 murmured the shuddering girl, " my doom 
 is fixed ! — I shall die^ — die, I hope, ere I 
 forfeit the use of reason, —ere I incur the 
 dread infliction of becoming a screaming 
 maniac in these wilds !'*
 
 atHIS SHIPWRECK. !?45 
 
 The horror of this idea seemed to freeze 
 her blood. She sat down on the eanh, and 
 holding her beating temples between her 
 hands, tried to encourage some thought 
 that might abate the keenness of her misery: 
 " Fitz Aymer is noble, is generous !" cried 
 she. " He could not be guilty of an act 
 of perfidy so atrocious 1 He cannot have 
 thus deserted me ! Some accident detains 
 him: he will be here — I must believe he 
 will be here, ere evening arrives!" 
 
 Tranquillised in some degree by this d«v 
 termination still to cling to hope, she now, 
 though with more awe than if she had never 
 quitted it, crept towards the couch on which 
 reposed the remains of her mother: " I will 
 look again at that beloved face,'* cried she, 
 " and the remembrance of the confidence 
 with which 1 so lately saw it turned towards 
 him whom she appointed iny protector, will 
 help to banish these distracting doubts.'' 
 
 The first glance however which she cast 
 upon the lifeless visage redoubled all the 
 consternation of the moment, and almost 
 made her recoil wi-th impulsive horror.--^ 
 Rapid in its progress under the influence 
 of so fervid an atmosphere, corruption had 
 M 2
 
 244 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 now so imperiously possessed itself of its 
 inevitable prey, that there remained no 
 visible part of the body undeformed by livid 
 spots, iincontaminated by the most hideous 
 symptoms of mortality. Viola, when she 
 quitted the cave, had not been sensible of 
 these approaching consequences of dissolu- 
 tion ; nor, indeed, were they then, though 
 perceptible to Fitz Aymer's more experi- 
 enced eye, so strikingly and universally 
 apparent: but during an absence of only a 
 few hours, they had spread with such dire- 
 ful rapidity, that nothing could be more 
 frightfully repulsive than the object now 
 presented to her view. 
 
 A sickness like that of death came over 
 her, whilst, transfixed, aghast, she stood 
 contemplating this appalling spectacle. It 
 was too fearful to call forth tears ; — those 
 collected in her eyes were dried up in their 
 burning sockets ; she neither moved nor 
 had power to withdraw her strained gaze 
 from the terrible object which, as if by fas- 
 cination, enchained, compelled, absorbed 
 her whole attention. 
 
 After a long and profoundly solemn 
 pause: ''Oh, that 1 should live — that I
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 245 
 
 should live,'' she cried, " to witness such a 
 sight! To stand unsupported, unconsoled, 
 a solitary spectatress of the tremendous ra- 
 vages wrought by death on the features of 
 —my mother ! Oh^ my mother ! even in a 
 better world, will not sorrow touch thy ten- 
 der spirit for the sufferings, at this awful 
 moment, of thy deserted child! — Ah, no! — 
 Peace, peace, I trust, and everlasting hap- 
 piness, are thy portion ! — Where thou art, 
 all tears are wiped away ; — and where thou 
 art, soon, oh, soon may thy Viola be also !" 
 
 Then, reverently and gently spreading a 
 covering over the honoured countenance, 
 *' Sacred,'' she added, " even from my 
 contemplation, be the viewof thy disfigured 
 aspect. These eyes have looked their last ; 
 but in this heart, thy image, as in better 
 times, is engraven for ever!" 
 
 Retreating slowly, mournfully, she once 
 more repaired to the entrance of the cell, 
 and from thence instinctively wandered to 
 the spot which had been destined to receive 
 her mother's dust. The spade with which 
 Fitz Aymer had so recently been labouring, 
 was still lying beside the broken-up sod, 
 Viola raised it: she held it long and irre- 
 M a
 
 f4r6' *ALES OP FANCY. 
 
 soliitely in her hand ; — recoiled from th? 
 task which yet a sense of right seemed to 
 impose upon her;— and after a conflict 
 with her feelings the most grievous which 
 she had yet sustained, gained courage to 
 strike tlie instrument into the earth. Weak 
 and tottering, her utmost efforts scarcely 
 sufficed to make upon the stubborn soil the 
 slightest impression : '^ I could better/' 
 she dejectedly cried, shaking her head, " J 
 could better dig it with my tears than with 
 my hands ! Oh, cruel Fitz Aymer! was 
 this an office thou should'st have left for a 
 daughter to perform !" 
 
 Her strength, her resolution, as she pro- 
 nounced the name of Fitz Aymer, wholly 
 forsook her. She could now no longer 
 cherish the faintest remaining doubt of his 
 departure; and its treachery, its heartless, 
 inconceivable barbarity, pierced her bosom 
 with a thousand pangs. The spade dropped 
 from her feeble hand, and throwing herself 
 upon the damp earth—" Oh, that death, 
 my only refuge, would come to my relief! 
 — Horror has done its worst: — I fear 
 nothing but to live U— My heart, my 
 thoughts, are all bitterness, and the very
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 247 
 
 Jight of heaven is hateful to me 1— Unfeel- 
 ingV pitiless Fitz Aymer ! — Is there a term, 
 —-is there a name in the whole catalogue 
 of human depravity, black enough to de- 
 scribe thy unparalleled selfishness !*' 
 
 She was silent a few moments, and still 
 lay motionless upon the edge of the grave. 
 The storm had for an interval abated, but 
 was now beginning again with renewed 
 violence. She heeded it not : 
 
 ' The tempest in her mind 
 
 * Did from her senses take all feelings elsCji 
 
 * Save what beat there.' 
 
 Whilst thus surrendering herself a prey 
 to torpid misery, a lofty and magnificent 
 palmetto, at no considerable distance, was 
 struck by so intense a flash of lightning, 
 that, instantaneouslv divested of its tufted 
 green summit, and riven asunder from top 
 to bottom, it was left a blackened, bare, and 
 sapless trunk. 
 
 Viola raised her head ; but, undismayed, 
 surveyed the blasted palm tree with no 
 emotion save that of envy : " The arrows 
 of destruction are still abroad," cried shcj 
 " yet they touch not me I The fires of 
 m 4
 
 S48 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 heaven consume all things else around, yet 
 they leave me to be the prey of gradual 
 and slow-killing wretchedness ! — Oh, Fa- 
 ther of the desolate, take me to thy rest ! 
 —Whom have I in heaven or on earth 
 but thee ? — ' The eye that hath seen me^ 
 shall see me no more,— He who ivas my com^ 
 panion, my guide, mine own familiar friend, 
 hath he not forsaken me!— I am utterly 
 bereft !— I am without hope,— -withoul 
 support,— alone in creation, and the veriest 
 wretch that ever sighed for death !" 
 
 Her head sunk again upon the earth as 
 she pronounced these words, and a specie^ 
 of insensibility crept over her, the united 
 effect of extreme fatigue and sorrow, which 
 for awhile relieved her from all conscious- 
 ness of her forlorn and miserable fate. The 
 rain beat upon her,— the thunder rolled 
 above her,— the lightning glared around 
 her ;— she neither felt the one, nor heard 
 or saw the others. Her faculties were 
 totally suspended; her strength subdued; 
 her pulse almost gone.
 
 JtlE SHIPWRECK. 5249 
 
 CHAP. XII 
 
 Was it for thee to scourge thy father's sins, 
 Detested parricide !■— his greatest crime 
 Was giving being to so vile a son ! 
 
 Stanley. 
 
 Evening was beginning to envelope in 
 its gloom every object upon the island, and 
 Viola still lay extended near her mother's 
 grave, when two men rapidly approached ; 
 and, by the feeble twilight that yet remain- 
 ed, discovered her melancholy situation. 
 Struck with dread on thus beholding her, 
 one of them,— it was the friend she had so 
 unjustly arraigned,— sprung forward, and 
 raising her impetuously from the ground, 
 bore her, pallid, drooping, senseless, to the 
 cavern. There, delivering her for a moment 
 to his companion, he hastened to kindle a 
 light; and then returning, put it into the 
 hands of her supporter, and took from him 
 again his inanimate burthen. Her eyes 
 M 6
 
 $56 ?FAL£S VF FANCY. 
 
 were closed, her arms hung lifelessly by 
 her side, and her wan cheek rested npon 
 his shoulder. He placed her gently on the 
 ground, and bending upon one knee, raised 
 her head upon his arm, and poured from a 
 Small flask which his associate presented to 
 him, some species of cordial into her mouth. 
 The light, as the stranger leant forward 
 with it to facilitate this operation, shone not 
 upon Fitz Aymer, but fell strongly upon 
 his own face :— it was hard featured and 
 weather-beaten : his short and square-built 
 figure was habited in a coarse jacket and 
 trowsers : his hair, greasy and lank, wag 
 interspersed with lock^s of grey; and his 
 hands, broad and sinewy, appeared to have 
 the roughness as well as the colour of 
 oaken bark. 
 
 The restorative, whatever it was, which 
 had been administensd to Viola, gradually 
 recalled her to life. She drew a deep con- 
 vulsive sigh ; and half opening her languid 
 eyes, their first look rested upon the harsh 
 aspect of the nian who held the lamp. She 
 started, and appeared terrified : *' Let me 
 die— let me die V* she faintly exclaimed,— 
 and turning away her face, she spread before
 
 THE SHIPWRECK, 251 
 
 it one of her hands, whilst with the other 
 she sought to repel the stranger's vicinity. 
 Fitz Aymer, on whom she still uncon- 
 sciously leaned, made a signal to the man ; 
 who, placing the lamp on the ground, 
 retreated, and repaired into the furthest 
 recess of the cavern, where lay the body 
 of Lady Earlingford. He presently returned, 
 bearing it in his arms wrapt in a dark boat- 
 cloak which had belonged to her nephew. 
 He stepped silently and cautiously past 
 Viola, who saw not what was taking place, 
 and proceeded with his melancholy freight 
 to the outlet of the cave: whence, with no 
 other light than that afforded by the rays 
 of a watery moon, he directed his course 
 towards the intended place of burial. 
 
 Viola soon after, again, though with 
 trembling abruptness, ventured to look up. 
 The unknown was gone: — "Blessed de- 
 liverance!*^ she softly ejaculated; then, 
 making a feeble attempt to raise herself, a 
 vague consciousness struck her of some 
 impediment, foreign to her own weakness, 
 which seemed to oppose the effort. Her 
 eyes at the same moment fell upon a hand 
 encircling her waist: she shuddered, and
 
 252 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 shrunk from its support as though some 
 noxious reptile had been twined around her, 
 —and, at length, by a desperate exertion of 
 courage compelling herself to turn her head, 
 she snatched a wild and fearful look at the 
 being by whom she was upheld. 
 
 The glance was electric ! — With a scream 
 that reverberated through every part of the 
 rocky dwelling, she disengaged herself from 
 the arm that sustained her — flung herself 
 upon her knees, before she could be pre- 
 vented, and passionately embracing those 
 of her agitated companion, rapturously ex- 
 claimed : "It is himself! — It is Fitz Ay- 
 mer ! O merciful Providence, forgive my 
 impious despair ! — Bless — bless him. Hea- 
 ven, as he has blessed the grateful Viola !'^ 
 
 Raising, and folding her to his heart — 
 ** Sweet Viola V cried Fitz Aymer, in an 
 accent of the tenderest emotion, "who but 
 an angel like you, after so long and appa- 
 rently inhuman a desertion, would have 
 given me a reception of such unreproaching 
 kindness!''— He could say no more; for 
 Felix, whom he had left asleep in the cave 
 when he went to the burying-place in search 
 of Viola— Felix, awakened by her extatic
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 253 
 
 cry, started up, and flying towards her^. 
 threw his arms round her neck, and kissed 
 her with the liveliest joy. Touched by his 
 affection, she tenderly embraced him ; but 
 she had no power to speak. A reverse so 
 sudden from despondency the most over- 
 whelming, to felicity the most exquisite, 
 was nearly intolerable. All she could do, 
 was to look up at Fitz Aymer with bright 
 but tearful gratitude ; to hang upon every 
 word he uttered with enthusiastic transport; 
 to check every rising sob, — almost to sus- 
 pend her respiration, lest she should lose a 
 single accent of that loved voice which she 
 had so recently despaired of ever hearing 
 again. 
 
 Observing how strongly she was still 
 affected, Fitz Aymer now supported her to 
 one of the rude seats with which he had 
 furnished the cavern, and placing himself 
 beside her, whilst Felix sunk gently to rest 
 again on his shoulder: — "1 have a long — 
 a painful story to relate," said he; "one, 
 which in justification of my own conduct, 
 I am inexpressibly anxious you should 
 hear/' 
 
 " All, all is justified 1'' cried Viola, in a
 
 934} TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 tone of the softest conciliation. — *' Your 
 presence dissipates every cloud,— restores 
 me to serenity, to hope^ to a feeling which 
 I had thought banished for ever,-"a feeling 
 of happiness unspeakable!" 
 
 Fitz Aymer fixed his eyes upon hervvitl\ 
 an expression of fond admiration which at 
 any other moment would have confused 
 her: but in the agitation of her spirits, all 
 that indicated more than a brother's regard 
 was lost upon her. Harassed, tortured as 
 she had been for many hours, it was delici- 
 ous to her to bask once more in the sun- 
 shine of an affectionate look ; and she saw 
 in the glances cast upon her by Fitz Aymer, 
 the reciprocation only of her own delight in 
 their re-union. 
 
 "This is not the time," said he, after a 
 short interval of silence, *' this, dearest 
 Viola, is not the time to attempt describing 
 the sentiments with which my heart over- 
 flows.— Thus much, however, I must say: 
 the generous, the affecting welcome you 
 have bestowed upon me, would alone have 
 opened my eyes to the excellencies of your 
 character, had 1 till now been blind enough 
 to remain insensible of its worth. But I
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 965 
 
 will talk, my sweet friend, no longer of the 
 feelings which you insnire. Hear my ad- 
 ventures of the past day ; and when here- 
 after I permit myself to discuss the dearer 
 theme which I now suppress, give to the 
 forbearance which triumphs over my wishes 
 •the full meed of praise to which it will 
 be so justly entitled/' 
 
 Viola's eye sunk beneath his, and hef 
 hand trembled as he held it ; but the slight 
 carnation that once more tinged her cheeks, 
 and the sweetness of expression observable 
 in the almost imperceptible smile tha^ 
 lurked around her mouth, gave to her coun- 
 tenance a charm, an interest such as Fitz 
 Aymer had never seen it wear before. He 
 gazed at her in silence some moments; and 
 then forcibly recalling his thoughts to the 
 events which he had promised to detail, he 
 began his little narrative : " When I hurried 
 down to the sands," said he, *' on first des- 
 crying from this rock the appearance of a 
 European vessel, I found the younger 
 Lamotte, already apprized of the circum- 
 stance, busily engaged in setting up a pole 
 upon an eminence near the shore, and 
 affixing to it an handkerchief as a signal to
 
 256 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 the people on board. He asked me to fire 
 a pistol as an additional call upon their 
 attention : but I thought the report might 
 alarna you, and refused. Yet, not less 
 anxious than himself to attract the notice 
 of the mariners, I kindled a large fire upon 
 the beach, the smoke of which I hoped 
 would answer our purpose quite as well as 
 the discharge of my feeble artillery. It was 
 fortunate that smoke was all I wanted, for so 
 damp was my fuel, that I could not by any 
 possible contrivance have brought it to a 
 blaze. After an interval of most torment- 
 ingsuspense, we saw a boat putting oflf from 
 the ship, and rowing towards the island. 
 The surf ran extremely high, and I was 
 convinced that the little bark, if she held a 
 strait course, would be in imminent danger 
 of oversetting amongst the breakers. I 
 therefore exerted my utmost ingenuity to 
 make the people understand that a better 
 approach might be found by rowing round 
 to the eastern sideof the isle. I succeeded in 
 rendering myself intelligible, and whilst the 
 ship lay to, the boat pursued the track 
 which I had pointed out. Lamotte and I, 
 meanwhile, walked close to the edge of the
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. ^37 
 
 water, keeping the object of our solicitude 
 constantly in view. At length, coming op- 
 posite the mouth of the river, they entered 
 it, and the crew immediately landed. 
 
 ** Five men and a boy constituted its 
 amount. Of what country they were, I 
 found it difficult at first to gain any infor- 
 mation. Ttiey spoke a jargon wholly un- 
 known to me, and had the tawny com- 
 plexions, and peculiar features of Lascars. 
 Such 1 soon became convinced they were^ 
 all but one man, the apparent commander 
 of the party, who spoke English, and had 
 an Englishman's blunt but honest aspect* 
 Lamotte understood the dialect of the 
 others,, and whilst he was rapidly and ear- 
 nestly conversing with them, I entered into 
 parley with my countryman. He was frank 
 and cordial in his offers of service ; but re- 
 commended to me, as he concluded that 
 my tirst wish must he to quit the island, to 
 embark as speedily as possible. They had 
 already, he said, encountered a great deal of 
 foul weather, and a gale he apprehended 
 was coming on, which threatened to be still 
 more violent than that which had driven 
 them out of their intended course. I told
 
 15^ .TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 him, that I had a friend in the interior of 
 the island whom he must give me time to 
 go in quest of; after which, nothing need 
 retard ourdeparture. He looked half doubt- 
 ful of the consent of his comrades to such 
 a delay : but immediately spoke to them,^ 
 and probably might have prevailed, had it 
 not been for the diabolical interference of 
 the Frenchman. I could not understand 
 his words ; but by the vehemence of his^ 
 gesticulations, by his pointing alternately 
 to the ship, and to the black appearance of 
 the sky, I easily conjectured that he was 
 endeavouring to work upon their fears re- 
 specting the weather, and trying to engage 
 them to row off immediately. Enraged at 
 the zeal he shewed to seize upon so favour- 
 able an opportunity of gratifying his malice, 
 and half frantic at the idea that your deli- 
 verance might be prevented by such a mis- 
 creant, I could not repress my indignation, 
 but grasping him by the collar, 1 held a 
 pistol , to his breast, and swore, that if he 
 mancEUvred in any way whatever to hasten 
 the departure of the crew, I would blow 
 his brains out !— But^ against a man deter- 
 mined to be my scourge, how futile were
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. l^j^ 
 
 /these threats ;— and, since I could not stay 
 to inforce them, how transient must be their 
 effect ! Could I, indeed, have deputed the 
 Englishman hither to summon you, 1 
 might have remained to keep watch over 
 Lamotte: but Felix absolutely refused to 
 leave me, and, except under his guidance, 
 there was no chance that the sailor should 
 find you. I had therefore but one resource 
 left : I endeavoured to make our country- 
 man my friend, by telling him, that what- 
 ever service he might have it in his power 
 to render me, I had wealth and influence 
 sufficient in England to requite most amply. 
 I entreated him to exett his whole autho- 
 rity over the crew to repress their impai- 
 tience during my inevitable absence ; and 
 better to enable him to keep Lamotte in 
 order, I resigned to him one of the pistols,, 
 and appointed him centinel over the villain's 
 movements. Thus having provided the only 
 check I could oppose to my enemy's evil 
 intentions, I quitted the beach, and set out 
 full speed towards this recess. 
 
 "But the vindictive Frenchman was not 
 to be so easily foiled. Scarcely had I left 
 the shore long enough to be beyond the
 
 S60 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 reach of hearing what passed, ere, seeing 
 the sailor for a moment off his guard, he 
 grappled with him^ wrested the pistol from 
 his hand, leaped into the boat, and call- 
 ing eagerly to the Lascars to follow, in- 
 duced them all to comply, with apparently 
 as little scruple as he felt himself. Watson, 
 the Englishman, finding them thus bent 
 upon re-embarking, acknowledges, that he 
 would have imitated their example: but, 
 whether at the instigation of Lamotte, or 
 actuated by their own pre-conceived ill-will 
 against him, the Lascars, to a man, refused 
 him admittance. With boisterous shouts, 
 they repulsed all his efforts to enter the 
 boat; and rowing with incredible vigour, 
 were soon secured from further importu- 
 nity, he being too bad a swimmer to ven- 
 ture far beyond his own depth, 
 
 *'Inthe mean time, knowing, suspecting 
 nothing of this base transaction, I was pro- 
 secuting, without allowing myself to pause 
 for breath, my intended route hither, when, 
 on reaching a steep point of rock about half 
 way on my journey, I fancied that in the 
 pauses of the gust, I heard a distant cla- 
 mour of voices. I stopped, turned, looked
 
 THE SHIPAVRECK. 26l 
 
 towards the headland from which I had 
 just been hastening, and descryed the boat 
 cutting through the waves, and receding 
 from the shore with a velocity which re- 
 venge and brutality alone could, in such a 
 sea, have lent its crew strength to commu- 
 nicate to it ! — I will not shock the gentle- 
 ness of your spirit, dear Viola, by describing 
 the fury with which this spectacle inspired 
 me. Sorrow, alas ! has been too early and 
 too keen a resident in your bosom : but the 
 stormy ascendency of passion — the outra- 
 geous madness of anger, you seem to be 
 wholly unacquainted with. May you never 
 behold me surrendered to their deforming 
 influence !— In your presence, indeed, 1 
 doubt whether I could become such a slave 
 to their power. Your eyes would ' look 
 my rage away;'* — the sound of your mild 
 voice would sooth me into peace." 
 
 " I ill merit this flattering language,^' 
 said the ingenuous Viola. " I have to-day 
 been assailed by feelings of more indignant 
 resentment than 1 could at any former pe- 
 riod have believed myself capable of expe- 
 
 * Collins.
 
 562 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 riencing. But, Fitz xVymer, let us not dwell 
 upon the remembrance of these turbulent 
 •ond painful sensations. — Hasten to the con- 
 clusion of your tale; telhne what became 
 of the poor Englishman. Was it him I saw 
 leaning over me when 1 first recovered my 
 recollection ?" 
 
 " It was. Little imagining that any of 
 the party remained, yet (averse from coming, 
 whilst in such a state of irritation, to inform 
 you of the so speedy overthrow of our better 
 prospects) I descended once again to the 
 shore. Old Lamotte I was convinced had 
 been left behind ; his atrocious son had not, 
 from the very beginning of the affair, be- 
 stowed upon him the slightest recollection. 
 I certainly should have insisted, had my 
 endeavour to effect our own embarkation 
 prospered, that he also should have been 
 taken into the boat. Undeserving as he is, 
 I could not have borne that he should have 
 been left here to howl and perish in unaided 
 frenzy: but my intentions in his favour 
 were as vain as they had proved in my own. 
 I saw the poor old wretch, just as I reached 
 again the sea-side, slowly retreating to- 
 wards the hut, after having, I suppose, beeia
 
 THE SHIPWREOR. f63 
 
 drawn down to the shore by the shouts of 
 the sailors, and witnessed their inhuman 
 departure. I did not speak to, or attempt 
 to stop him ; and he pursued his cheerless 
 way without observing me. 
 
 *' Scarcely had I lost sight of him, when 
 an object far more worthy of compassion — 
 the unfortunate Englishman, appeared be- 
 fore me. I started on behold ng him, and 
 my heart ached at the deep consternation 
 impressed upon his countenance. Yet^ 
 though filled, as was so natural, with dis- 
 may at his own situation^ and indignation 
 at the treachery of his companions, there 
 was nothing either unmanly or ferocious 
 in the view which he took of the comfort- 
 less predicament to which he was reduced. 
 He related to me with more coherency 
 than, under such circumstances^ I could 
 have expected, the scene which had passed 
 between him and the boat's crew. Thev 
 were, he said, an abandoned, knavish set, 
 and now seemed to be joined by one 
 (meaning Laniotte) well worthy to be their 
 ringleader. He bad disliked his situation 
 amongst thenifrom the first moment he en- 
 tered the vessel: but necessity had com-
 
 f64 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 pelled him to become their messmate; and 
 he had therefore tried to make the best of a 
 bad case. He had originally sailed from 
 England in a king's ship, sent out as con- 
 voy to a fleet of merchantmen. On arri- 
 ving in India, a fever attacked him, which, 
 after it had subsided, left him for many 
 weeks in such a state of weakness, that, 
 being unfit for service, his captain was 
 obliged to quit the port without him. When 
 gradually his strength encreased, his finances 
 declined ; — there were no vessels imme- 
 diately expected from England — ' and so, 
 Sir, rather than starve,^ concluded the poor 
 fellow, ' I engaged on board a country ship, 
 meaning, after having made one voyage, to 
 enter again, by the first opportunity, into 
 his majesty's service. These scoundrels 
 have for the present disappointed me : but 
 I should not be at all surprised if their 
 captain — supposing the weather permits 
 him to loiter in these parts — ^should send 
 back a boat to take me oflP. He is a civi- 
 lized sort of a man enough, and knows 
 when he has got a good hand on board : 
 and be it spoken, Sir, without bragging, I 
 was the best, — nay, I was well nigh the
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. ^65 
 
 only sailor he had under his command. 
 His thieving sculking Lascars know no 
 more how to manage a ship in a gale than 
 the rats in her hold !*— Rejoicing that the 
 honest creature," continued Fitz Aymer, 
 *' retained any idea on which to found a hope 
 of rescue, I encouraged his consolatory view 
 of a disaster, which, however, I must ac- 
 knowledge, appeared to me quite desperate. 
 I could never suppose that either Lamotte 
 or the Lascars would confess to their com- 
 mander the circumstances under which 
 Watson had been left behind : he would be 
 represented as having perished by some ac- 
 cident ; and though regretted, no effort 
 would be made to redeem him. 
 
 " Having related his own story, he ex- 
 pressed a desire to hear mine. I told him 
 all that it was necessary he should know; 
 and then invited him to accompany me to 
 the friend for whom I had so earnestly de- 
 sired to secure the means of liberation. 
 We came hither, dearest Viola, without 
 entertaining a doubt of finding you: judge, 
 then, how great must have been my con- 
 sternation, my perplexity, on discovering 
 your absence ! In such weather, and igno- 
 
 N
 
 ^66 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 r^-nt as I supposed you of the arrival of the 
 boat, what could have attracted you to any 
 distance from the cavern ? Vainly we call- 
 ed ; we sought for you in every direction ; 
 you neither answered nor appeared : and 
 the alarm which I began to experience, 
 nearly distracted me. At length, I was 
 struck with an idea, that apprehensive per- 
 haps of some new quarrel between Lamolte 
 and I, you had, in the kindness of your 
 heart, and in defiance of the storm, ven- 
 tured to the cabin in pursuit of me. No 
 sooner had this thought started into my 
 imagination, than 1 flew down the rock, 
 and sped without an instant's delay towards 
 the hut. The sight which I there witnessed 
 —forgive me, Viola ! — almost drove even 
 your remembrance from my mind. The 
 wretched old Lamotte appeared struggling 
 with the pangs of death : his intellects, 
 probably in consequence of the shock given 
 to them by the desertion of his son^ were 
 totally alienated : his whole frame was con- 
 vulsed, his eyes were fixed in their sockets, 
 and the distortion of every feature an- 
 nounced the impending — I could not but 
 hope— the speedy separation of soul and
 
 fHE SHIPWRECK. ^f 
 
 body. Was it possible, beholding him in 
 such a situation, immediately to leave him ? 
 I know you will say that it would have been 
 inhuman to withhold from him the trifling 
 succour in my power to bestow >- -yet, so 
 anxious was I for vour restoration, that the 
 moment Watson, whom I had far outstrip- 
 pedj joined me at the cabin, I committed 
 the miserable old man to his good offices, 
 and set out again in quest of you. It were 
 vain to attempt enumerating every spot 1 
 explored ; vainer still would it be to at- 
 tempt describing the agony with which 
 your disappearance filled me ! The strangest 
 alarms begun to agitate me ;— 1 sometimes 
 feared, that having strayed to the beach 
 whilst the boat was in sight, the people 
 within her had put back, and forced you 
 on board ! at other moments I terrified 
 myself with the apprehension that the light- 
 ning had struck you,— that you were lying 
 in some covert, or under some blasted tree, 
 a blackened corse!— Oh, Viola-- can you 
 not feel for the despair with which such 
 horrible ideas must have inspired me !— I 
 almost envied the dying Lamotte ;— for if 
 you were indeed gone,— or if, by the furj 
 v2
 
 268 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 of the elements, you had been destroyed, 
 what had I left on earth to live for !-— Viola,'* 
 continued he, hurried away by his feel- 
 ings, and casting aside, unconsciously, the 
 discretion which he had so recently pro- 
 fessed — what I then suffered— -and the joy I 
 have experienced on finding you again, ren- 
 der me clear-sighted as to the nature of the 
 sentiments glow^ing for you in my heart !— 
 lam convinced that the whole happiness or 
 misery of my future existence depend upon 
 you !"-You are the only being with whom, 
 henceforward, 1 could bear, in any situation, 
 to connect my fate!-— you are my fate! — 
 And the value which I attach to your good 
 opinion , to your confidence, and— may 1 say 
 it ?— -to your love, is greater than I attach 
 to any other etirthly blessing. Start not at 
 this unaccustomed language : you ought 
 to know me now too well, to believe me 
 capable of a thought injurious to the purity 
 of your nature. Whilst we are here, I yet 
 again swear to you, to ask no more than a 
 brother's place in your heart : but we can- 
 not—my whole heart assures me that we 
 cannot be here for life. You have saved 
 me from a treacherous death ; you have
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 269 
 
 shewn a trust in me which has manifested 
 the fairest estimation of my principles ; 
 your whole conduct has been such as to 
 awaken my warmest gratitude, my most 
 unqualified admiration and tenderness. I 
 love you, Viola, as no other human being 
 ever can love you. I have seen you in si- 
 tuations differing utterly from those of com- 
 mon life ; in situations which have wrung 
 my heart with an excess of pity which it is 
 not possible that any other man can ever 
 experience for you. Our misfortunes will 
 have united us by a thousand links ; a thou- 
 sand affecting remembrances will dwell up- 
 on our minds such as can never connect us 
 with any other individual : we shall have 
 been partners in calamity : we shall, by in- 
 numerable good offices, have drawn closer 
 the ties that bind us to each other: we 
 shall have participated in the same hopes, 
 the same fears, the same privations, and the 
 same sufferings. Oh, then, beloved of my 
 heart ! at whatever period our deliverance 
 may be effected, let us still be participators 
 of the same destiny ! Say that you will 
 hereafter be mine— that your hand, your 
 N 3
 
 570 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 faith, your unalterable affection, will he 
 mine!*' 
 
 Tears trickled fast clown the cheeks of 
 Vioh ^vbilst listening to this persuasive lan- 
 guage ; but they were tears of which she 
 was half ready^ with i\liranda, to say, "I 
 am a fool to weep at what 1 am glad of!'* 
 To know that Fitz iVymer loved her, dear 
 as he was to her own heart, seemed all that 
 was wanting to confirm the resolution 
 which she had often in secret formed, to 
 dedicate her future life to the repayment 
 of his present kindness. When he paused, 
 and earnestly regarding her, appeared seek- 
 ing in her glistening eyes the answer to his 
 application, she gave him her hand, and 
 with an air of innocent security^ of modest 
 but undisguised affection, said : " 1 required 
 but to know that you would value such 
 a promise, to pledge myself, dear Fitz 
 Aymer, never to be the wife of any other 
 man. I feel with you, that our past mis- 
 fortunes, our mutual dangers, our similar 
 trials, form ties between us, which even in 
 prosperity— should prosperity again attend 
 us— it would be almost unnatural to dis-
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 271 
 
 sever. If such were my thoughts whilst 
 seeing you hover like a tender son around 
 my dying mother^, can you suppose them 
 altered by the generous sacrifice you have 
 made for me to-day ? But for me, you 
 might now have been on your way to 
 Europe ; and but for yon," added she, in 
 an accent the most touching, " / might 
 now have been on my way to the world of 
 spirits ! I was very nearly gone when you 
 came to recall me to existence.— Oh, what 
 were the bitter feelings which had preceded, 
 —which had driven me to the state of ia* 
 sensibility in which you found me ! — I 
 thought, Fitz Aymer, that the virtues 
 which 1 had attributed to you, were utterly 
 
 visionary; that you were as base and 
 
 cruel, as I had hitherto believed you to be 
 manly and humane! To be thus, as I 
 imagined, deceived in you, constituted, I 
 may most truly say, the most afflicting 
 portion of my sufferings !— But we will 
 talk, my kind protector, of our late miseries 
 no more i—of separation we will never even 
 think '.—-There is, however, another sub- 
 ject; scarcely less painful, to which I must 
 call your immediate attention. My mother, 
 N 4
 
 ST^S TALES OF FAKCY. 
 
 —oh, Fitz Aymer, how shall I tell you the 
 dreadful truth !— -A change too terrible to 
 describe has taken place in her whole ap- 
 pearance. I went at close of day to view her 
 revered countenance, and the unspeakable 
 horror with which I beheld the devastation 
 wrought upon it, no time can ever efiace 
 from my remembrance.— Fitz Aymer, you 
 had begun a grave— I tried to proceed in 
 the awful task '* 
 
 Her voice failed her, and she stopped : 
 but Fitz Aymer well understood her rhelan- 
 choly meaning :—" You, Viola!'* — cried 
 he, shuddering, ''you employed in dig.^ing 
 the grave of your mother ! Oh, heaven ! 
 what, during such a process, must have 
 been your thoughts of w/e/'*— Then, after 
 a short pause: '' All that you would wish 
 to have done,'* he added, in a more col- 
 lected tone, " has been performed.— Our 
 new associate, Watson, has received every 
 requisite direction as to the chosen spot ; 
 and, to spare your feelings, the honoured re- 
 mains were conveyed from hence before you 
 had entirely recovered your recollection/' 
 
 Yioja, shrinking into herself, folded her 
 hands, and in mental devotion, loo sincerely
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 275 
 
 respected by Fitz Aymer to be interrupted, 
 spent the interval till the return of the 
 En.crlishman.— On hearing him approach, 
 she strated up, and would have fled into 
 the inner cave: but gently arresting her 
 steps : " Do not, niy Viola, shun an inter- 
 view which delay will only render more 
 painful. It may— -nay, I feel that it must 
 distress you, to behold him at the very 
 moment wben you have learnt how he has 
 been last employed :— yet, remember, that 
 for having undertaken that employment, 
 you are under obligation to him,— remem- 
 ber, dearest Viola, that your thanks rather 
 than your avoidance are due to him/' 
 
 " True, true!'* cried the ever-candid 
 girl—" I will stay— 1 will in all things be 
 guided by your better judgment.— But in 
 what light does he regard me? Does he 
 know that I am disguised ?'^ 
 
 " I have called you my sister, and he 
 thinks that your being in boy's clothes is 
 the effect of necessity ;— that you have no 
 other garments/* 
 
 The worthy seaman now entered, and 
 Fitz Aymer, followed at some distance by 
 Viola, approached him, and gratefully
 
 574» TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 acknowledged the service which he had 
 rendered them. 
 
 " Ah, master," cried Watson, '^ I have 
 helped to lower many an honest messmate 
 over the ship's side. It is no new thing to 
 nae to have dealings with the dead ; and for 
 that matter, some there be, that I would 
 •ooner serve after the breath is out of them, 
 than whilst they be living. There's yonder 
 old Frenchman ;— hang me, but I would 
 rather be his sexton than his nurse !" 
 
 " Is there any prospect of his recovery?" 
 said Viola. 
 
 " Not in this world !" bluntly answered 
 the sailor. — *' His soul is gone to kingdom 
 come, and his body is left for worm's 
 meat." 
 
 " Is he then dead ?" she hastily cried, 
 turning to Fitz Aymer. 
 
 *' Poor wretch, he has indeed breathed 
 his last '.-—After I had traced every probable 
 and improbable path in search of you ;— 
 after I had a second time revisited this cave, 
 and still found it deserted, I again repaired 
 to the hut. The forlorn old man was in the 
 very agonies of death, and in less than ten 
 minutes expired as 1 stood beside him.
 
 IHE SHIPWRECK. 27^ 
 
 Whether through neglect, intemperance, or 
 despair at being abandoned, his life appears 
 to have been more suddenly terminated 
 than, with such an iron frame, it was natu- 
 ral to have expected. The villany of for- 
 saking him, his son might have spared him- 
 self, and yet have escaped any long en- 
 durance of his company." 
 
 " Well, well, since he is gone," resumed 
 the seaman, " there's no more to be said. 
 Better so, mayhap, than otherwise. Good 
 fathers, they say, make good children : by 
 that rule, the old fellow could be no great 
 matter of a saint ; for his son, to my mind, 
 is one of the biggest scoundrels that ever 
 walked the earth.— But, master,^' conti- 
 nued the poor man, looking wishfully round 
 him, " have not you got any stou^age for 
 the stomach ? I am ducedly an hungered. 
 Your fruits, and such like washy victuals, 
 are but poor trash to live upon without a 
 little beef and biscuit." 
 
 His new hosts hastened to set before 
 him the best provisions which they had at 
 hand, and both felt the necessity, afu r all 
 they had gone through, of taking some nou- 
 rishment themselves. Watson, as soon as
 
 276 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 he had finished his repast, made a pillow 
 of his coarse jacket, threw himself down in 
 a corner of the cave, and bidding them 
 good night, dropped, in less than three 
 minutes, into the soundest repose. Viola, 
 soon after, requested Fitz Aymer to carry 
 Felix to the couch which she had shared 
 with him the preceding night ; and then, 
 half dead with fatigue, followed, and found, 
 to her own astonishment, that neither grief 
 for a mother's loss, nor joy for the restora- 
 tion of a friend, had power to repel from 
 her heavy eye-lids the importunate solici- 
 tations of sleep. The instant that Fitz 
 Aymer left her^ she lay down, and sunk 
 into a forgetfulness almost lethargic.
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 277 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 I'll no say men are villains a' ; — 
 
 The real hardened wicked, 
 
 Who know no check but human law, 
 
 Are to a few restricted : 
 
 But oh, mankind are unco weak, 
 
 An' little to be trusted ; 
 
 If self the wavering balance shake 
 
 It's rarely right adjusted. 
 
 B 
 
 URNS. 
 
 Viola was the last of the little party who 
 awoke : but her sleep, long and unbroken 
 as it had been^ seemed neither to have re- 
 freshed nor strengthened her. Her head 
 ached, her limbs were stiff and painful, her 
 mouth was parched with thirst. She tried 
 to sit up, but giddy and shivering, she 
 found it utterly impossible. " I am very 
 ill,'* she mentally cried; " I certainly am 
 very ill ! — Ah, poor Fitz Aymer, how will 
 you bear this new infliction 1" She sighed, 
 and closing again her eyes, swimming in
 
 273 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 tears, drew the covering that was spread 
 over her higher roimd her head, and in 
 silent dejection, ruminated upon the pro- 
 bable consequences of the present disorder- 
 ed state of her feelings. 
 
 Whilst thus she lay, helpless and flushed 
 with fever, Fitz Aymer, long since arisen, 
 had been with the friendly seannan at Lady 
 Earlingford's grave, to assist in giving it, 
 ere it should be visited by her daughter, 
 every appearance of neatness in his power. 
 On his return, he met Felix, who told him 
 that Viola was still asleep ; a circumstance 
 at which he rejoiced, convinced that after 
 the sufferings and exertions of the preceding 
 <lay, a longer period of rest than usual 
 must be indispensably requisite for her. In 
 order, therefore, to keep every thing in and 
 about the cavern perfectly quiet, he took his 
 two companions with him, and proceeded 
 to the hut. The body of the deceased 
 Frenchman was still lying there. Fitz Ay- 
 mer and Watson removed it; they again 
 employed themselves in the gloomy task of 
 preparing a recepticle for the dead ; and 
 having deposited within it its ghastly te- 
 nant, Fitz Aymer left the seaman to wandet
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 279 
 
 about at his pleasure, and returned to the 
 cavern. 
 
 He entered it cautiously, unwilling, 
 should Viola still be reposing, to disturb 
 her, yet hoping that he should now find 
 her up, and ready to receive him. Still, 
 however, the outward cave remained empty. 
 He felt disappointed, and the place, to his 
 apprehension, thus unoccupied and silent, 
 looked peculiarly dreary ; — it reminded him 
 of the alarm with which, but the day be- 
 fore, he had seen it in a similar state. " She 
 is here now,*' he cried ; " I can have no 
 fears for her now ! Yet this vacuity — this 
 .profound stillness, chills, and, I know not 
 whv, dismavs me.*' At that moment he 
 thought he heard a faint groan : it struck 
 to his heart ! He drew nearer to the inte- 
 rior cell, and listening with even painful in- 
 tentness^ caught a more distant repetition 
 of the plaintive sound. No longer able to 
 controul his anxiety, he rushed forward, 
 and the sad truth became palpable to him 
 in a moment. Viola was ill. — Viola, in the 
 very place where her mother had expired, 
 was perhaps expiring herself of the same
 
 280 TALES OF FANCY, 
 
 disease! He execrated himself for havings 
 suffered her to sleep in an air which he 
 began to think must be loaded with infec- 
 tion. He felt her hand, and started at its^ 
 burning heat: ''• Oh, Viola!" exclaimed 
 he, kneeling by her side, " what yet un- 
 tried calamity is coming upon me! I could 
 have borne every thingbut this!" and in 
 the agony of his hearty he threw his face 
 upon the couch, and wept like an infant. 
 
 Grieved, though too well convinced of 
 his affection to feel surprised at his disturb- 
 ance, Viola was herself so much agitated, 
 as to be for some moments unable to speak. 
 At length, gently pressing her hand upon 
 his shoulder, she found voice to say: 
 " Look up^ dearest Fitz Aymer: take cou- 
 rage ! — If you despair, how shall /gain re- 
 solution to struggle against this attack ? 
 Be composed, I entreat you ; — the sight of 
 your distress is more painful to me than the 
 severest personal suffering ! — your care, 
 your kindness, my only friend, I must, 
 under Providence, depend for my sole 
 chance of recovery : disable not yourself 
 then, by taking alarm so precipitately, from 
 bestowing upon me the attentions, without
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 281 
 
 which, it IS impossible you should preserve 
 
 me.'^ 
 
 These representations were not ineffectual. 
 Fitz Aymer started up, conjuring her to 
 point out to him in what way he could ad- 
 minister to her relief. She asked him to 
 bring her some drink, and whilst she was 
 allaying with it the thirst that had con- 
 sumed her, he told her, acquiring more 
 presence of mind, that it was his first and 
 most earnest wish to remove her into the 
 outward cell, where she might enjoy a freer 
 circulation of air. She assented to the pro- 
 posal, and sent him to arrange a place for 
 her reception, whilst, somewhat recruited 
 by the refreshment he had given her, she 
 prepared for his return. 
 
 The comparative coolness of the exterior 
 cavern, the unremitting assiduities of Fitz 
 Aymer, and the peace of mind imparted by 
 the knowledge that she had now none but 
 friends around her, soon operated a favour- 
 able change in her symptoms. She vi^as 
 languid and very feeble for some days: but 
 the pain that had acrompanied theearly stage 
 of the complauii gradually subsided: she 
 could converse, though neither long, nor
 
 S?S2 TALES OF fancy: 
 
 with animation; she could enjoy, and ten- 
 derly acknowledge every fresh instance of 
 Fitz Aymer's anxious care; she could listen 
 with delight when he read to her, or with still 
 greater delight, when he spoke — when he 
 set before her, in vivid colours, a picture of 
 the felicity that would attend their restora- 
 tion to society, their future union, and their 
 mutual and unfailing attachment. 
 
 Meanwhile, the seaman, anxious for 
 some pursuit, examined most accurately 
 the condition of the pirate's boat, and soon 
 came to a resolution of exerting all his in^ 
 genuity in putting it into a fit state for ser- 
 vice. Many were the difficulties with 
 which, in the course of the undertaking, 
 he had to contend. He was in want both 
 of proper tools, and of fit materials, for his 
 design : but address and perseverance will 
 often supply the place of every other re- 
 quisite. He never relaxed in his enter- 
 prize: fertile in resources, he found substi- 
 tutes for all that he most needed, either in 
 the natural productions of the island, or in 
 the yet remaining contents of the chest: 
 and by the time Viola was strong enough 
 to visit, supported by Fitz Aymer, the
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. SS3 
 
 place where their new assistant was at work, 
 she was surprised and charmed at the pro- 
 gress which he had made. A sort of shed 
 was constructed tor her accomnaodatiou 
 near the spot ; and thence, day after day, 
 she sat watching their hibour— for Fitz Ay- 
 mer now engaged with ardour in the same 
 employment — and thitlier, when wearied^ 
 he repaired for rest, and was received by 
 her with an outstretched hand, and a smile 
 of cordial welcome that more than repaid 
 him for all his toil. 
 
 The weather, though no longer invariable 
 and clear as it had been on their first land- 
 ing, was, however, far from being perpetu- 
 ally tempestuous ; their evenings, in parti- 
 cular, were often cloudlessly serene. Du- 
 ring one of these, Viola and Fitz Aymer, by 
 the mild light of a moon nearly at the full, 
 strolled down to the beach, and paced for 
 a considerable time the smooth sand that 
 sparkled under their feet. The sea was as 
 unruffled as the most polished mirror; the 
 air was soft and fragrant; every thing around 
 them wore an aspect of purity and peace, 
 and their hearts, in unison with the scene, 
 were alive to all its charms, and more dis»
 
 284 TlLES OP FANCY. 
 
 posed, than at any preceding moment, to 
 entire openness and unreserve. 
 
 " You have never, my Viola,'" said Fitz 
 Aymer, suddenly changing the conversa- 
 tion, which had hitherto turned upon the 
 beauties of the night, "you have never 
 yet questioned me on the subject of the 
 obvious prejudice w^hich your lamented 
 mother, during the early period of our inter- 
 course here, entertained against me. I 
 remember indeed, that once, whilst still 
 calling yourself Edmund, you threw out a 
 hint of wishing to know its origin : but I 
 refused to gratify you. Have you no 
 longer any curiosity to hear the mystery 
 explained ?" 
 
 " I no longer,'* answered she, " feel the 
 misf^rivinss which at that time made me 
 anxious for whatever exculpation you could 
 offer of circunistances which I had been 
 taught to suppose must have been wrong: 
 but I can never cease, dear Fitz iVymer, to 
 feel the liveliest interest in all your affairs; 
 though now, such is my perfect faith in 
 your integrity, that without a wish to^ 
 penetrate further into them than it may be 
 your own choice to allow, I rest secure in
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 235 
 
 the belief, that 1 have entrusted my hap- 
 piness into honourable hands, and look 
 forward with cheerful hope to the future, 
 fr©m the experience I have had of the past.'* 
 
 '* Kind and excellent Viola!" exclaimed 
 Fitz Aymer ; *'how this touching confi- 
 dence endears you to my heart ! — No obli- 
 gation could more powerfully bind me to 
 merit your trust than the consciousness 
 that it is thus generously bestowed. I never 
 had the principles of a systematic libertine : 
 but I have heard even those to whom such 
 principles were familiar, affirm, that their 
 system never was in so much danger of 
 being shaken, as when they met with a tho- 
 roughly guileless nature, relying unsuspici- 
 ously upon their good faith." 
 
 He then led her to a low rock which had 
 been left dry by the ebbing tide; and as 
 they sat, the clear rays of the moon were 
 reflected so brightly upon his countenance, 
 that every change in its expression was as 
 visible to her as at noon-day : — " I am now," 
 said he, '* about to enter upon a detail, 
 which, 1 fear, will in many respects be 
 shocking to you. Lady Earlingford herself, 
 though less inveterate than your father,
 
 2S6 TALKS OF FANCY. 
 
 always considered tlie transactions to which 
 it relates in the darkest point of view ; she 
 touched upon it, 1 well know, in the con- 
 versations which she held with you : I 
 therefore deem it incumbent upon me, cir- 
 cumstanced as we now are, to be thoroughly 
 explicit in my confession ; — at the same 
 time, I sincerely lament that in so doing, 
 1 must, in some degree, unavoidably shake 
 the good opinion w^hich you, no doubt, at 
 present entertain of two very near con- 
 nexions — Mrs. Melross, and her brother.'' 
 
 " Mrs. Melross I*' echoed Viola ; — " is 
 it possible that you can have any thing un- 
 favourable to state of her !*' 
 
 *' Hear me with patience, dearest Viola, 
 and suspend your judgment till you are in 
 possession of the whole story. — Mrs. Mel- 
 ross was an entire stranger to me, when, at 
 a club I had long frequented, I became ac- 
 quainted with her brother, one of its newly- 
 elected members. Rash, self-willed, and, 
 to say the least of him, thoughtless in the 
 extreme, his passion for high play surpass- 
 ing any thing 1 had till then witnessed, 
 even in men of the largest fortune. 1 saw 
 him, night after night, staking astonishing
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 28/ 
 
 sums, and almost always rising a loser. 
 I had, at the outset of his introduction, 
 played with him myself; and though far 
 from possessing the ability which many of 
 our members had acquired, I invariably 
 was the winner when Frederic Germaine 
 was my adversary. It was no wish of mine 
 to contribute to the ruin of a raw novice 
 whom 1 found so little difficulty in beating ; 
 and I soon gave up the habit of engaging at 
 the same table with him, amusing myself in 
 coping with those who were more upon an 
 equality with me in point of skill, and less 
 addicted to mere games of chance. Frede- 
 ric, meanwhile, remained considerably my 
 debtor ; and, from finding me, I suppose, 
 less inclined to trouble him for money than 
 most of those with whom his accounts were 
 still unsettled, he several times, in mo-, 
 ments of distress, applied to me for loans, 
 of which I afterwards saw him stripped, 
 before he quitted the room. I could have 
 no inducement long to foster such folly ; 
 and therefore, upon a tliird or fourth appli- 
 cation, I positively refused to supply him. 
 He bore the rebuff better than 1 expected, 
 for, with all his Jaalts, he was uncooquer-
 
 2^8 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 ably good-humoured ; and the never-failing 
 animation and pleasantry he possessed, ren- 
 dered him, I must own, a companion whom, 
 except at the card table, I peculiarly de- 
 lighted in. Many mad frolics, such as I 
 will not, dear Viola, astonish your inex- 
 perienced ears by relating, we perpetrated 
 together ; and I doubt not that the fame of 
 these exploits contributed in no small degree 
 to establish the ill opinion your father and 
 mother imbibed of my principles. Who- 
 ever imputes any part of Germaine's wild- 
 ness and profusion, however, to my cor- 
 rupting influence, does me, I can assure 
 you, a very unmerited honour!— he cer- 
 tainly, though a year or two my junior, 
 wanted no lessons from me on those points. 
 He had a natural, an inextinguishable love 
 of dissipation and riot, which no example 
 could encrease, and no fatigue subdue. 
 Amusing and amused, his society was 
 courted by every young man who had ei- 
 ther vivacity of spirits, or strength of con- 
 stitution to support the disorderly habits 
 to which he initiated them. He was su- 
 perior in penetration and quickness of parts 
 to more than half his companions— a dupe
 
 THE SHIPWRECK, 1S89 
 
 only at the gaming table, where it was ru- 
 moured, after I had ceased giving myself 
 the trouble of observing him, that there 
 were not wanting men, calling themselves 
 honourable, who made no scruple of taking 
 continual advantage of his ignorance and 
 infatuation. However that may be, his 
 difficulties certainly encreased ; and one of 
 the expedients, amongst others, which he 
 tried, to relieve them, shewed either a heart 
 grossly depraved, or an inexperience and 
 want of reflection almost exceeding belief. 
 I was standing by him one night at the 
 Opera, when a lady came into a box near 
 usj whose beauty struck me in a very un- 
 common degree. I pointed her out to him, 
 making at the same time some observation 
 expressive of my admiration. ' She is my 
 sister,' cried Germaine, apparently much 
 gratified by the praise 1 had lavished upon 
 her. ' That old fellow,' added he, ' at the 
 back of her chair, is her husband. Was it 
 not a shame to bestow her on such an ugly 
 wretch ? He is at least fifty, and she is not 
 more than one-and-twenty. She has been 
 married these two years, but this is her first 
 season in London. Come, Til take you
 
 290 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 round to her box, and introduce you. 
 Luckily, old Melross has no jealous whims: 
 he lets her make acquaintance and receive 
 whoever she pleases ; and their house is 
 one of the pleasantest in town/ Whilst 
 rapidly giving me this sketch of his sister's 
 affairs, he led me on, and with equal ra- 
 pidity conducted me to her box. I was as 
 well — nay, considering who introdr.ced me, 
 far better received than, in reason, I ought 
 to have expected. Mrs. Melross was 
 extremely attached to her prodigal but 
 agreeable brother, and looked with com- 
 placency upon every one he appeared to 
 entertain a regard for. He told her, in my 
 presence, that I had been so excellent a 
 friend to him, — that he was under such 
 extraordinary obligations to me, that sh« 
 could scarcely fail to view me as his tute- 
 lar genius. When I recollected, however, 
 the nature of those obligations, I felt very 
 little pride in hearing them recorded. To 
 have been the purveyor of an incorrigible 
 gamester, savoured more of weakness than 
 generosity; and 1 shrunk, even with dis- 
 gust, from the commendations wnth which - 
 Germaine thought proper to load me. Nof
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 991 
 
 to tire you, my Viola, by being uselessly 
 circumstantial, let it suffice to tell you 
 that, dating from the evening of this first 
 introduction, my acquaintance with Mr, 
 and Mrs. Melross soon ripened into inti- 
 macy. The husband, though certainly too 
 old for his blooming partner, seemed to 
 possess her friendship, and they lived to- 
 gether in perfect harmony. At length, 
 however, a shadow of discontent became 
 visible occasionally upon her open brow ; 
 and she confessed to me that it originated 
 in the utter impracticability she found to 
 draw money from Mr. Melross for the relief 
 of her brother. I reasoned with her upon 
 the danger of furnishing Germaine, even 
 if she had the ability, with fresh arms to 
 injure himself; I told her, that he was 
 becoming the prey of more crafty gamblers, 
 and would infallibly carry every guinea h^ 
 could procure to the card table, and be 
 despoiled of it as incautiously as he had 
 already been of the sums for which he was 
 now so severely distressed. She heard me 
 with apparent conviction : but the next 
 time she saw her insatiable brother, worked 
 Upon by his importunities, she renewed ia 
 g4
 
 ^9^2 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 his behalf her before-unsuccessful attacks 
 upon Mr. Melross, and an obvious coolness, 
 by degrees, became the consequence of his 
 renewed denials. I found her more than 
 once in tears; and, unable to persevere in 
 witnessing unmoved the unhappiness she 
 suffered, in an evil hour, my abhorrence 
 of Frederic's vicious profusion gave way to 
 concern for his sister, and I put into her 
 hand a larcre draft for his use !** 
 
 ** Oh, Fitz Aymer,** interrupted Viola — 
 ** could poor Matilda be so inconsiderate as 
 to accept it!** 
 
 " Well may you call her poor Matilda T^ 
 answered Fitz Aymer, sighing. — '^ The 
 draft, owing to some unfortunate delay of 
 her's in sending it to her brother, was found 
 upon her dressing-room table by Mr. Mel- 
 ross. He destroyed it instantly, without 
 listening to the explanation she would have 
 given of the purpose for which it was in- 
 tended ; accused her harshly of indelicacy 
 and imprudence in borrowing money from 
 a man of my age ; and swore that from that 
 moment his doors should be invariably 
 closed against me. Exasperated by his 
 reproaches, — and indignant at what she
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 393 
 
 termed his ingratitude towards her brother's 
 friend, she was induced, braving all conse- 
 quences, to determine upon throwing her- 
 self into my protection !— ^Accordingly, the 
 instant Melross left her, she stole out in 
 the dusk, unperceived, got into a hackney- 
 coach, and drove to my lodgings ! — She 
 asked no questions at the door ; but seeing 
 that it was opened by my servant, sprung 
 from the carriage, and was madly darting 
 into the house, when a gentleman who was 
 passing, suddenly caught her arm, and 
 forcibly drew her back. She turned, with 
 a shriek, to look at him, and faint as was 
 the light, recognized the stern, determined 
 aspect of her uncle, — of your father, Viola !** 
 Viola hid her face in her hands, too much 
 shocked to speak ; and after a short pause, 
 Fitz Aymerthus went on : ** It so happened, 
 that the day this ill-judged but unpreme- 
 ditated measure was adopted, I dined out 
 of town, and did not return to London till 
 late the following morning. At some dis- 
 tance from my lodging, I alighted, dismissed 
 my carriage, and walked towards a book- 
 seller's to make some purchase. As I 
 opened the shop door, your father came 
 o 3
 
 ^9^ TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 Out of it. I knew him to be unfavoiirabk 
 disposed towards mc ; but not having the 
 most distant idea of the recent cause that 
 justified his augmented animosity, I touch- 
 ed my hat in passing him, and felt no incon- 
 siderable regret, that any part of my conduct 
 should have deprived me of the chance of 
 becoming better known to a man of so 
 distinguished a reputation. He regarded 
 me for a moment with haughty surprise, 
 and then stalked on without deigning to 
 take of my salutation the slightest notice. 
 I own that at no moment of my life I ever 
 experienced so strong an inclination to 
 indulge a spirit of hostility! I stopped, — I 
 looked after him, — my face burned — my 
 limbs trembled with rage; — I was on the 
 point of darting forward in pursuit of him, 
 when Major Beauchamp, the father of poor 
 Felix, rushed out of the shop, through the 
 window of which he had observed the 
 whole transaction, seized me by the arm, 
 and changing the direction of my steps, 
 insisted upon preventing my taking any 
 measures to resent what had passed : ' If 
 you must fight with any of the Earlingford 
 family,' cried he, ' fight with the nephew«,
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. S95 
 
 —fight with Germaine ; and if you kill 
 him, the world will be rid of one of its most 
 pernicious members! But injure not irre- 
 parably your own character, by selecting, 
 for your antagonist the most respectable 
 individual of the whole race; a man univer* 
 sally honoured and loved ; a man thirty 
 years your senior ; a martyr to the gout, 
 and one whom on every possible account 
 you would incur general odium for having 
 challenged !" 
 
 ^' Oh, excellent Major Beauchamp 1^ 
 exclaimed Viola — " How I love him fof 
 this manly interference ! for this high praise 
 of my dear father ! Ah, surely, Fitz Aymer» 
 so judicious a remonstrance could not bul 
 prevail!" 
 
 *' It disarmed me at once, — not, indeed, 
 of the resentment which I still naturally 
 felt; but of all intention to manifest it in 
 the way that Beauchamp deprecated. I 
 went straight home, and there, the informa- 
 tion which my servant gave me of the 
 extraordinary visitor I had had, amply 
 accounted for the increased intolerance 
 with which Sir William had regarded me. 
 I was, as you will easily believe, extremely 
 4$
 
 295 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 disturbed on learning the rash step Mrs* 
 Melross had taken; and after binding the 
 servant to strict secrecy by the influence of 
 a bribe, joined to the obligation of an oatb, 
 I flew to the lodging of Germaine for fur- 
 ther intelligence. He shewed me an indig- 
 nant letter which he had just received 
 from his uncle, and which he had read with 
 so little feeling, as to jest upon it in a 
 manner that disgusted me more than any 
 thing I had hitherto known of him. The 
 letter stated, that Mrs. Melross, the evenini^ 
 before, had only been preserved from the 
 infamy of an elopement, by the providential 
 intervention of her uncle, who happened to 
 be passing at the very it»stant she was flying 
 into the house of her seducer /"-The word 
 made me start : I felt its injustice keenly ; 
 but without pausing to utter any comments 
 to the insensible Germaine, I went on read- 
 ing. He vvas himself arraigned, in very 
 bitter terms, as the prime agent of his 
 sister's disgrace ; reproached with having 
 introduced her to one of his most dissolute 
 club-companions for the purpose of selling 
 her to dishonour [—-She had been detected. 
 Sir William added, in the shameless prac-
 
 THE SHIPWRECK, ^97 
 
 tice of receiving large sums of money from 
 Mr. Fitz Aymer for the supply of her bro- 
 ther's profligacy ;— -which sums, the^*e was 
 scarcely a doubt, were to be repaid by ihe 
 sacrifice of her reputation to the Jawless 
 passion of lier purchaser.— Never, my dear 
 A^iola, were invectives more pointed or 
 injurious. They stung me almost to frenzy, 
 —and in the fury of the moment, 1 told 
 Germaine, that since his uncle was in no 
 circumstances to give me the satisfaction I 
 required, the business rested with him^ and 
 I therefore desired that he would provide 
 himself with pistols, and accompany me 
 instantly to some fitter scene of action :— 
 
 ' No, d n it, Fitz Aymer,' cried he, 
 
 with his wonted carelessness, ' Til have 
 no tilting-bout with you for another man's 
 sins; sufficient for my shoulders is the 
 burthen of my own. Instead of blustering 
 about pistols, tell me, my good fellow, what 
 nuncle means by the large sums which he 
 pretends Matilda has received from you for 
 my use? What the devil has she done with 
 them ? I have never touched any cash 
 through her means but some little shabby 
 savings of her own. Surely her old husband 
 o 5
 
 ^98 TALE^ OF FAKCY. 
 
 ias not pocketed the money as quietly as 
 he seems disposed to pocket certain othe? 
 fevours which you are suspected of having 
 conferred upon him.' 
 
 " This abominable speech," continued 
 Fitz Aymer, " filled up the measure of 
 Contempt which I already had began to 
 entertain for the callous speaker. I arose, 
 and telling him, that if the draft I had given 
 to his sister had been destroyed, he might 
 draw upon my banker for its amount, I 
 added, that afterwards he had nothing fur- 
 ther to expect from me, nor did I wish ever 
 to see his face again.— -Unmoved, he suf- 
 fered me to depart; and as I descended 
 the stairs^ I heard hiiji whistling a country- 
 dance." 
 
 " And this is the man," cried the indig- 
 nant Viola, " my family accused you of 
 perverting! How little did they know 
 him !— and, unhappily, dear Fitz Aymer, 
 how little did you yourself know what was 
 for your own honour and interest, when 
 you contracted so close an intimacy with 
 one thus hardened in selfishness, thus im- 
 penetrable to^hame! But, tell me; did 
 nothing further pass between you and my
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. ^99 
 
 father? Did you make no attempt to 
 acquit yourself of the imputation of 
 having incited Matilda to leave her hus- 
 band ?'^ 
 
 *' None/' replied Fitz Aymer — " it was 
 for Matilda to clear me from that charge. 
 In a case like mine, 1 could say nothing in 
 my own vindication which her unlucky 
 flight from Mr. Melross would not tend to 
 discredit. That flight must have stamped 
 every suspicion against me with the seal of 
 conviction : she alone had a right to re- 
 move that seal ; and if to exonerate me, was 
 more deeply to implicate herself, I wished 
 for no justification at her cost. To your 
 father also, I must confess, I had, at that 
 time, but little inclination to humble my- 
 self by making any appeal. His inveteracy 
 seemed so fixed and obdurate, that I gave 
 up all hope— I had nearly said, all desire- 
 to overcome it. In addition to this, I 
 shortly afterwards was ordered, at an hour's 
 notice, to join my regiment, which I heard 
 was destined for foreign service ; and^ con- 
 sequently, my whole time, and every 
 thought, was necessarily given to the busi- 
 ness of preparing for the expedition."
 
 300 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 " And did you/' with some hesitatioa 
 asked Viola, *' did you embark without 
 again seeing — without even hearing from 
 Matilda r' 
 
 " I received one short and melancholy 
 letter from her just as I was going on board 
 the Transport. She informed me, that her 
 uncle had thought proper to conduct her 
 back to the house of Mr. Melross, who was 
 still held in total ignorance of the unwise 
 attempt she had made to abandon it. She 
 thanked me, with great feeling, for my past 
 services to her brother; mourned over his 
 impending and inevitable ruin; prayed for 
 my prosperity and success ; and bade me 
 farewell in terms so friendly, that I could 
 not but reflect with wonder, upon the sin- 
 gularity of finding that she, whom alone of 
 all the Earlingford family I had ever 
 (though undesignedly) injured, should be 
 the only one possessed of a spirit of such 
 Jiindness." 
 
 " And does your history,^' said Viola, 
 ^' that part of it, at least, which is con- 
 nected with Matilda's, does it terminate 
 here ? Did you not meet her again on 
 your return to England ?"
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 301 
 
 " No: she and her husband were in 
 Scotland.'' 
 
 A short silence now prevailed ; and then 
 VioJa, trying to subdue the tremour of her 
 voice, and to conceal a starting tear, said: 
 «* Fitz Aymer — I think— nay, 1 feel per- 
 suaded, that if Matilda had not been mar- 
 ried, she would have been the wife of your 
 choice— you certainly loved her.^' 
 
 Fitz Aymer snatched her hand, delighted 
 at this little involuntary testimony of jea- 
 lous affection, and half smiling, answered : 
 " I think— nay, I feel persuaded, that my 
 sweet Viola is utterly mistaken. There is, 
 no doubt, a charm in Matilda's manner, an 
 enthusiasm in her character, which awaken 
 a strong degree of interest : but, few men, 
 and myself least of all, would, in a wife, 
 desire to meet with such uncontrouled 
 powers of imagination, such misdirected 
 energy of sentiment as she often betrays. 
 No,*^ continued he, *' my heart never would 
 have found its real home in her bosom : a 
 home secured against the inroads of passi- 
 on, the dangers of distempered sensibility — 
 a home, the very haven of peace and kind- 
 ness, such as it is assured of finding in
 
 502 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 your's. You, dearest Viola, you only are 
 the woman with whom it is supreme hap- 
 piness to me to think of spending my life. 
 There is in your character such genuine 
 feeling, such candour, such indulgence, 
 that I experience when conversing with 
 you an ease, a security, a disposition to 
 confidence, which, in an equal degree, ne- 
 ver influenced me with any other human 
 being. Such is my dependence upon }'oup 
 placability, that [ should not hesitate a 
 moment, whatever error I might commit, 
 to confess it at your tribunal: since, with 
 all my conviction of your own purity, with 
 all my reluctance to give you pain, the con- 
 solation of having such a friend to fly to 
 for the confirmation of my better purposes, 
 the alleviation of my regrets, the disbur- 
 thening of my conscience, would be an 
 irresistible inducement to full and perfect 
 sincerity. ' The need 1 have of thee, thine 
 own goodness has made:'* it has twined 
 you round my heart ; it has rendered you 
 so inexpressibly dear to me, that, without 
 you— without the comfort of meeting your 
 
 * Shaliespear,
 
 THE SHTPWRECK. 303 
 
 ever-friendly eye— -of hearing your ever- 
 soothing voice, life would be intolerable to 
 «ne/^ 
 
 " Fear not," cried Viola, tenderly ex- 
 tending to him her hand, " fear not that it 
 should ever be made so by any change 
 which time or circumstances can produce 
 in my affection ! I know, indeed, but 
 little of the world ; I have seen few of your 
 sex \vorthy to be distinguished : but I feel 
 a conviction so strong, that the attachment 
 which I have avowed for you could never 
 be transferred to another ;— I feel so assured 
 that the lovfc which you profess for me is 
 kinder and more generous than any which 
 I shall ever again inspire, that, were I 
 restored to society, and surrounded by all 
 the allurements that rank, elegance, and 
 refinement could combine, my sentiments 
 would remain unaltered— -would invariably 
 be proof against every trial/* 
 
 '' 1 doubt you not, my Viola," cried Fita 
 Aymer; " yet, were my fiuth in your con- 
 stancy less than that of a devotee at his 
 shrine, I might sometimes tremble, when 
 recollecting the inexperience of your own 
 heart which you will carry into the world.
 
 504 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 You were too young when thrown into this 
 desert, to have had a fair opportunity of 
 jooking around you, ofdistinguishing amidst 
 tKe crowd, any one individual more formed 
 to constitute your happiness than another. 
 Thus circumstanced, it was natural that 
 the fellow-feeling which originally excited 
 you to view my forlorn situation with pity, 
 should insensibly ripen into regard— into 
 tenderness. But how shall I always avert 
 the apprehension, that a partiality resulting 
 more from accident than choice,— a par- 
 tiality which has never undergone the test 
 of comparison between the value of my 
 pretensions and those of others, will here- 
 after so securely bear that dangerous test 
 as to suffer no diminution ? Believe me, 
 Viola^ many will be the fears, however I 
 may combat against them, which will un- 
 avoidably harass and torment me/' 
 
 " Weil then,*' said Viola, smiling, " set 
 the misgivings yoM mean to entertain of my 
 stability, against the distrust of Matilda's 
 influence, which I so lately evinced, and I 
 think we neither of us shall have much 
 right to reproach the other for being suspi- 
 cious/*
 
 THE SHIPWRECjfe. S03 
 
 As they proceeded, after this, to the 
 cavern, she expressed much concern at the 
 misconduct and terrible levity of Frederic 
 Germaine; '* He was capable,*' said she, 
 *' of rendering himself so pleasant, that if 
 he had but possessed a heart, — or, rather, 
 a better principled mind, he would have 
 been the delight and pride of his whole 
 family. I have seen very little of him 
 during ihe last three or four years; but! 
 remember the time, when his visits used to 
 occasion a species of jubilee throughout 
 the house ; smiles and gladness greeted 
 him, whichever way he turned, from the 
 Master down to the lowest servant. But, 
 just before my father left England, I know 
 that he was incensed against him in the 
 highest degree, and forbade him his pre- 
 sence : my dear mother, no doubt, perfectly 
 understood the reason : she was always 
 unwilling, however, to speak of any one 
 she had cause to think ill of, and observed 
 respecting him the most determined si- 
 lence. 1 should be curious,*^ added she, 
 *' to know what, by this time, has become 
 of him."
 
 sod" TAtES 0F FANCY. 
 
 ^' I think," said Fitz Aymer, " that 
 without any great stretch of foresight, I 
 may venture to inform you :— he is proba- 
 bly in a prison. The course he pursued 
 was so madly ruinous, that his fortune, 
 never very large, cannot possibly have held 
 out till now: and he has no application, 
 no diligence, to qualify himself for a profes- 
 sion : too much pride to enter a counting- 
 house: and, fortunately, too little coolness 
 and talent at the gaming table^ to aim at 
 retrieving his losses by the pillage of 
 others."
 
 •THE SHIPWRECK. 307 
 
 CITAP. Xlt. 
 
 There was not on that day a speck to stain 
 The azure Heaven ; the blcbsed sun alone 
 In unapproachable sublimity 
 Effulgent sped through boundless fields of light. 
 
 SoUTttE-T. 
 
 There is in friendship, as in love, a joy 
 Dear to the heart of every feeling man ; 
 A joy that glows with less tumultuous pow'r; 
 But gently warms and animates the soul. 
 
 The activity and spirit with which the 
 seaman and Fitz Aymer persevered in their 
 endeavours to refit the boat, at length 
 brought the labour to a conclusion. Viola 
 was informed, that all they were able to 
 perform, was now accomplished; the little 
 vessel was thoroughly water-proof, and 
 settled weather alone was wanting to en- 
 courage their embarking. 
 
 " I cannot hear this intelligence,'^ said 
 she to Fitz Aymer, '* with feelings of un- 
 mixed joy. We must congratulate our- 
 selves, no doubt, at any prospect of being
 
 SOS TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 re-united to society; yet, much as I have 
 suffered upon it, I lovethis is land. My 
 mother^s remains repose within its bosom, 
 and the earth which covers them, is hallow- 
 ed by so precious a deposit. Here, too» 
 dear Fitz Aymer, we first became acquaint- 
 ed, we first learnt to love each other; and 
 here, perhaps, amidst all the privations to 
 which we have been condemned, we have 
 known more happiness than we shall ever 
 experience in any other region. Yet — 
 though dejected at the idea of departing, 
 imagine not that I am fearful or reluctant to 
 accompany you, go whithersoever you may. 
 It is your presence only that can gild any 
 prospect to me : at sea, or on shore, in a 
 wilderness or a crowd, the sight of you 
 alone can give value to my existence. But, 
 tell me; upon what plan do we embark ? 
 Have you and Watson well considered the 
 enterprize ? Do you know what course to 
 steer, or are you adventurous enough to 
 commit yourselves to the deep in an open 
 boat, without even a conjecture of the di- 
 rection in which you ought to impel it ?'^ 
 
 " Noj dearest Viola ; we are not so un* 
 reflecting. These are particulars which
 
 I'HE SHIPWRECK. 509 
 
 Watson and I have of late meditated upon 
 and discussed, incessantly. He, of course, 
 is much the ablest maritime geographer of 
 the two; and his confidence in the feasibi- 
 lity of our project, is what gives me courage 
 to propose it to your execution. He seems 
 persuaded that we shall very speedily, by 
 pursuing a northerly track, meet with some 
 vessel sailing either to or from India, that 
 will take us up, and give us safe conveyance 
 to the port whither she is destined. We 
 are to stock our boat with abundant means 
 of subsistence; we are to render it as te- 
 nantable for you and Felix as our circum- 
 stances will allow ; and then, when the at- 
 mosphere looks clear — when the wind is in 
 our favour, and when you, my Viola, can 
 ' screw your courage to the sticking place,' 
 we are to commend ourselves to the protec- 
 tion of Heaven, and embark/^ 
 
 ** My courage," said Viola, *' will never 
 desert me, whilst I know, that, happen what 
 may, we cannot he separated; that we shall 
 live or die together!*' 
 
 Fitz Aymer gratefully pressed her hand ; 
 and assured, now, of her fortitude for the 
 proposed undertaking, awaited with ardent
 
 ^10 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 impatience the favourable moment of em- 
 barkation. 
 
 At length, early in August, about a fort- 
 night after this conversation, Watson, tho- 
 roughly satisfied from the appearance of the 
 sky that a series of temperate weather 
 might reasonably be expected, gave the 
 long wished for intimation that the hour of 
 departure was come. Viola was not pre- 
 sent when this sentence was pronounced ; 
 but Fitz Aymer, flying to the cavern, an- 
 nounced to her the welcome tidings with 
 an ecstasy that scarcely left him power to 
 make himself intelligible, ^e^r satisfaction 
 was more chastened — was blended with 
 amotions more solemn. Yet, reluctant to 
 damp his felicity, she disguised from him 
 every sentiment that corresponded not with 
 bis own, and expressed her participation in 
 bis happiness with a cheerfulness that left 
 him nothing to regret. The following 
 morning, at break of day, their momentous 
 enterpiize was to begin. Every thing was 
 in readiness ; an ample store of provisions 
 was already lodged in the bark ; an awning 
 had been erected to secure her and Felix 
 from the dews of night, and the fervours pf
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. ^lil 
 
 mid-day ; nothing remained to be done ex- 
 cept conveying to the water-side the chest 
 of young Earlingford. This, Viola request- 
 ed permission to detain till the very mo- 
 ment of embarkation. Her slightest wish 
 was a law to Fitz Aymer; and accordingly 
 it was agreed, that in the morning he should 
 go down with Watson early to the beach ; 
 examine once more whether any addition 
 could be made to the accommodations in- 
 tended for her, and then return to fetch 
 away the chest, and escort her to the shore. 
 Viola scarcely closed her eyes throughout 
 the night ; and the dreams of Fitz Aymer, 
 though they were of a gayer character than 
 her waking thoughts, were agitated and 
 full of incident and hurry. Watson slept 
 soundly; of him most justly might have 
 beeirsaid : 
 
 ■Thou hast been 
 
 As one in suffering all, that suffers nothing; 
 A raan, that fortune's buffets and rewards 
 Hast ta'en with equal thanks : 
 
 lie had indeed too long been inured to th€ 
 vicissitudes of life, to feel, on the present 
 occasion, any peculiar disturbance; and 
 though fully sensible of the hazards of the
 
 $\2 S-ALES OF FANCY. ' 
 
 enterprize, he awaited its result with steady 
 intrepidity. At sun-rise, he and Fitz x\y- 
 mer started up, and in conformity to the 
 plan that had been determined upon, de- 
 scended to the beach, 
 
 Viola then arose. Her heart was heavy : 
 she could not disguise from herself that the 
 crisis of Fitz Aymer's fate and her own, 
 w^as at hand ; that their lives were both at 
 stake; and that their exposure to sufferings, 
 perhaps^ more dreadful than even death, 
 was approaching: *' Oh, give me firmness, 
 Heaven 1" she cried, " to conceal, if not to 
 conquer these woman's fears ! Let not their 
 ill-timed appearance depress the sanguine 
 spirit of my beloved conductor! — I can bear 
 -no part in the arduous struggle he is about 
 to make for our dehverance; but I can 
 lighten its difficulties by my serenity,- or 
 aggravate them by my terrors." 
 
 These were considerations which, in a 
 mind so generous and affectionate as Viola's, 
 could not be unavailing. They controuled 
 her agitation, and enabled her, with com- 
 parative calmness, to prepare for the great 
 impending event. The fit moment, it ap- 
 peared to her, was now arrived, to cast off, 
 
 J
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 3 IT 
 
 and for ever, her masculine attire. In the 
 chest was contained the apparel which, 
 previous to her interview with Fitz Aymer, 
 she had been accustomed to wear. This 
 she resumed, and then, proceeded, for the 
 last time, to the burial place of her mother; 
 where, kneeling, she spent in fervent prayer, 
 in sighs of filial and deep regret, the inter- 
 val allowed her for preparing to embark. 
 
 She had just risen, but was still lingering 
 dejectedly beneath the branches that shaded 
 the grave, when Fitz Aymer, returning 
 from the shore, and not finding her at the 
 cavern, followed her footsteps, suspecting 
 the direction which she had taken. The 
 appearance of a female figure, graceful, 
 delicate, and wrapt in sorrowing meditation, 
 filled him, unaccustomed as his eyes had 
 long been to such a sight, with amazement. 
 Her change of dress, had given to Viola an 
 apparent encrease of height, which, ren- 
 dered him at first doubtful whether it could 
 really be her that he beheld ; a nearer view 
 convinced him of the fact; and springing 
 forward, enraptured as the metamorphosis, 
 he folded her in his arms, exclaiming: 
 " Beloved and lovely Viola! Oh, why have
 
 514 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 you thus long obscured from me your 
 beauty? — Why have you, thus long, rob- 
 bed me of the delight of adoring in you, an 
 angel in person as well as mind? — Whose 
 are the eyes you should have been so am- 
 bitious to enchant with all your graces as 
 mine?— I am jealous, Viola, that you 
 should have delayed throwing off the hate- 
 ful disguise which has deformed you, till 
 you were about to plunge again into that 
 world were others may claim the privilege 
 of admiring you as ardently as I do!— Tell 
 me, my heart's treasure, will no abatement 
 in your love result from the dangerous 
 homage to which you will, probably, soon 
 be exposed? — The earth contains not a 
 fairer form than this: — is the mind that 
 animates it inaccessible to the approaches 
 of vanity? Is it as fixed, as faithful, as un- 
 changeable, as my anxious tenderness re- 
 quires?— Do not resent this involuntary 
 diffidence, sweetest Viola; — seeing you 
 thus attractive . conscious how many will 
 aspire to your favour ;— -conscious, at the 
 same time, how little I have to expect from 
 your father's support, is it wholly unnatural, 
 that, as the moment approaches which will 
 
 i
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 515 
 
 ifob me of your exclusive attention, I should 
 tremble at the danger of being robbed also 
 of your exclusive affection ?'* 
 
 The mantling cheek of Viola, at the 
 beginning of this address, had sought con- 
 cealment upon Fitz Aymer's shoulder; — 
 she now raised her head, and in an accent 
 of gentle reproach, said : " Ah, dear Fitz 
 Aymer, with one so prone to suspicion, 
 how shall I secure belief ?— These doubts, 
 but that you say they are involuntary, 
 would wound me to the soul ; since, never 
 could they have been uttered at a period 
 when my heart glowed with more kindness 
 towards you, and therefore never could 
 ihey have been uttered when I felt them to 
 be more unjust. But I must leave to time 
 and the testimony of actions, not profes- 
 sions, the task of establishing my claim to 
 your confidence ; I have said during a for-* 
 mer conversation, as much as lean say; 
 and more alas! than you are willing to 
 credit." 
 
 " With what indifference— with what 
 mortifying coolness, Viola, you speak of my 
 disquiet!"
 
 316 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 She looked up in his face with a smile 
 that, at once, appeased him, and answered : 
 *^My dear Fitz Aymer, can you deny, that 
 were I to speak of its cause^ at least, with 
 great concern, I should be paying myself a 
 most wretched compliment ? — You are 
 harassing your mind with doubts of my 
 fidelity, which, I am persuaded, are unrea* 
 sonable.— I forgive them : but can you 
 expect me to participate in them ?— I even 
 feel sorry for the distress they occasion you ; 
 — but ought you to wish that I should ad- 
 mit it to be just ?'* 
 
 Fitz Aymer, regarding her with the most 
 animated tenderness, again strained her to 
 his bosom, and exclaimed s--" Friend, mis- 
 tress, companion of my heart! — I ask of 
 you but one indulgence, — one obligation 
 more, and these distrusts shall be banished 
 for ever!— Here, in this consecrated spot, 
 renew to me your vows ! Here swear, that 
 in the peopled scenes to which we are 
 repairing, you will remain faithful to the 
 contract you have made with me !— The 
 shade of yonr mother perhaps hovers round 
 us ; it gives sanction, doubt it not, my own
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 31? 
 
 Viola, to the love you have professed for 
 me ; — to the engagement which I implore 
 you to confirm !*^ 
 
 Viola, melting into tears, raised her hand, 
 clasped in one of his, to Heaven,— cast up 
 her streaming eyes, and, by the eloquent 
 expression with which they beamed^, gave 
 him, though not in words, a stronger attes- 
 tation than any language could have convey- 
 ed, of the inviolable sanctity with which 
 she pledged herself to maintain her vows. 
 3?itz Aymer understood, and knelt to thank 
 her; knelt to take a last solemn farewell of 
 the turf under which reposed the relics of 
 her mother; and then drawing her, reluct- 
 ant, weeping, and full of sadness from the 
 spot, he gently conducted her to the 
 entrance of the cave. There Watson await- 
 ed his permission to carry down the chest; 
 and there Felix, all impatience to be gone^ 
 stood eagerly watching for his re-appearance. 
 On seeing Viola, they both started ; the 
 child scarcely knew her: but the seaman 
 regarding her with a complacent aspect, 
 instinctively pulled off his hat, and address- 
 ing Fitz Aymer, said: *« There be few 
 P 3
 
 318 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 ladies, your honour, who, if they could 
 look so pretty in their own proper trim, 
 would have hung out false colours so long/* 
 
 *' Very few,'* replied Fitz Aymer, gaily ; 
 *' unless in situations where they felt indif- 
 ferent to, o"r despaired of, admiration.-— 
 Which, dear Viola, was your case ?" 
 
 She forced a smile, but made no answer; 
 and Watson, taking up the chest, hastened 
 with it down the rock. Viola, casting one 
 parting tearful look at the cave,— at the 
 beautiful terrace in its front,— at the many 
 well-remembered objects that surrounded 
 it — the birds she had cherished — the 
 flowers she had reared — lingered some 
 minutes behind ;•— then, yielding to the 
 wishes of Fitz Aymer, slowly followed. 
 
 Assisted by her two companions, she, at 
 length, entered the boat. The morning was 
 glorious; a light breeze played upon the 
 surface of the water, and fanned the verdant 
 boughs upon the shore; the sun, without 
 being yet too powerful, seemed to shin<* 
 auspicious on their purpose ; every wave 
 sparkled in his beams, and the lovely, lonely 
 spot from which they were receding, with
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 519 
 
 all its woods, and all its undulated varieties, 
 looked like a jewel in the deep, the fit 
 resort of Mountain Nymphs and Fawns. 
 
 As long as its coast was visible, Viola 
 held her eyes fixed upon it, though the 
 remembrance of her mother connected itself 
 so powerfully with the prospect, as often to 
 obscure her sight, and draw tears in large 
 drops unconsciously down her cheeks. 
 Fitz Aymer, more in love, more assiduous 
 than ever, could attend to, could think of 
 no object but herself. The feminine soft- 
 ness of her appearance in her lately resumed 
 habiliments, seemed to give new force to 
 the tie which bound him to her. She 
 looked so innocent and so defenceless ;— - 
 her youth, her sex, her beauty so resistlessly 
 claimed protection, that not to have felt^ in 
 contemplating her, all the best emotions of 
 his soul awakened, would have proved a 
 nature as devoid of sensibility as incapable 
 of honour. Hitherto, tenderly as he had 
 been attached to her, he had paid but little 
 regard to her personal advantages: they 
 now flashed upon him with unexpected 
 brilliancy. The purity of her complexion, 
 the symmetry of her form, the grace of her 
 p4
 
 3^0 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 movements, had never before lent to her 
 such appropriate charms. He watched 
 every attitude — he admired every feature : 
 and the accents of her voice, that voice 
 
 -ever soft. 
 
 Gentle, and low — an excellent thing In woman^* 
 
 accorded so well with the female semblance 
 in which she once again appeared, that he 
 wondered how it had been possible a being 
 possessed of such attractions could have 
 shrouded them sufficiently to succeed so 
 long in dissembling her sex. 
 
 Meanwhile, smoothly and rapidly, their 
 
 . boat ran rippling through the tide 
 
 That foamed on either side :f 
 
 and so steady was the wind, that their sail, 
 once set, required no change. All day 
 they pursued their prosperous course ; and 
 at night, directed by the stars, still glided 
 on, secure and unimpeded. Viola slept 
 much better in the boat than, the evening 
 before, she had slept in the cavern. An 
 awe attaches itself to the contemplation of 
 
 Shakespear. i- Aikin's Authur and Matilda.
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 321 
 
 an untried experiment, which often va- 
 nishes when the picture drawn by fancy 
 gives place to sober reality. Such, now, 
 she felt to be her case. No perils, no hor- 
 rors, seemed either to surround or threaten 
 them : the air, the sky, the ocean, all were 
 serene and peaceful. Her associates, far 
 from being worn by incessant toil, com- 
 pelled to unremitted watchfulness, had 
 scarcely as much to do as in their idlest 
 moments on shore. Fitz Aymer, leaving 
 the rudder to the management of the sailor, 
 seated himself beside Viola, read to her, 
 conversed with her, engaged her in a con- 
 test at chess, and so successfully beguiled 
 the hours of their tediousness, that in the 
 most active and animated intervals of her 
 life, she never had experienced so little 
 weariness or languor. When sleep began 
 to weigh upon her eye-lids, solicitous to 
 preserve her from suffering by the night air, 
 Fitz Aymer threw over her the covering 
 under which she had been accustomed to 
 repose in the cavern, and guarded her slum- 
 bers with a thankfulness of heart, a joy in 
 knowing that she was there, that she loved 
 him, and felt happy in his protection, which 
 P 5.'
 
 ^S TALES OP FANCY. 
 
 had never given such interest to his waking 
 -nocturnal hours before. 
 
 The night passed as temperately as the 
 day. Watson, still sitting at the helm, often, 
 however, slept upon his post ; but the boat 
 »cudded on with no less security ; and 
 though Fitz Aymer, during many hours, 
 kept watch with unwearied vigilance, no 
 shoals, no sand-banks, no appearance what- 
 ever that could deform the face of the deep, 
 presented itself to his attentive eye. — At 
 dawn of day, seeing the sailor beginning to 
 rouse himself, he indulged the heaviness 
 that was creeping upon him ; and lying 
 down at the bottom of the boat, near the 
 spot where Viola rested, he enjoyed an in- 
 terval of repose as calm as her own. 
 
 In the midst of a dream the most felicitous 
 that had ever visited him, — a dream in 
 which he fancied himself returning from the 
 marriage altar with Viola, and presenting her 
 as a bride to his brother, he was abruptly 
 awakened by the loudest, the longest shout 
 that human lungs ever sent forth ! — In an 
 instant he was on his feet ; Viola also started 
 up, and both eagerly interrogated Watson ; 
 who. pointing to a sail which they were fast
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 323 
 
 approaching, immediately recommenced his 
 astounding vociferation. 
 
 In a quarter of an hour, the grateful and 
 enraptured wanderers were admitted, and 
 hospitably welcomed on board a large and 
 commodious English ship. It was an In- 
 diaman homeward bound, full of passengers, 
 and freighted with precious merchandize. 
 The ladies on board, many of them mothers 
 of families, gathered round Viola with the 
 most benevolent offers of service. Trem- 
 bling with joy^ weeping and smiling by turns, 
 she scarcely had voice to thank them: but 
 the loveliness of her figure, the modest and 
 touching character of her coUntenar.ee, re- 
 quired no aid from words to charm and in- 
 terest every beholder. After some time 
 spent upon the deck amidst a tumult of feli- 
 citations, one of her new matronly friends 
 proposed conducting her into the cabin, ap- 
 propriated to herself and children. Viola 
 gladly accepted the considerate invitation, 
 and was preparing to follow her, when Fitz 
 Aymer, who had been equally well received 
 amongst the male passengers, pushed his way 
 through the crowd by which she was sur- 
 rounded, and with much agitation, but of no
 
 394 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 unpleasing nature, said : *' Viola, I have 
 already found a friend !— I have found, on 
 board this vessel, the father of Felix,— 
 Major Beauchamp !'^ 
 
 As he spoke, she saw a gentleman ad- 
 vancing towards her^ holding Felix in his 
 arms, and still bearing the trace on his manly 
 cheeks of the tears which paternal affection 
 had drawn from him. He congratulated 
 Viola (without, however, yet knowing who 
 she was) on the prosperous issue of her pe- 
 rilous enterprize ; said, that he believed he 
 had to thank her for much kindness shewn 
 to his little son ; but would defer expressing 
 what he felt till he saw her again at a mo- 
 ment of less hurry and confusion. — He then 
 drew back, respectfully bowing, and suf- 
 fered her and Mrs. Sidney (her friendly con- 
 ductress) to proceed to that lady's cabin. 
 There, when a little composed, she briefly, 
 and without naming herself, told her story. 
 It had been agreed between her and Fitz 
 Aymerthe preceding day, that in case such 
 a fortunate termination as the present should 
 attend' their adventure, they would still, to 
 avoid impertinent remarks, call themselves 
 brother and sister, AVhether the innocent
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 3^^ 
 
 deception would now be practicable, since 
 Major Beauchamp was probably so well able 
 to detect it, Viola could not determine : but 
 till she had spoken to Fitz Aymer, and 
 learned from him how the affair stood, she 
 was reluctant to make premature disclo- 
 sures. 
 
 Tlie tale that she related, evidently en- 
 creased the interest which her first appear- 
 ance had awakened. There was an open- 
 ness in her countenance that impressed a 
 conviction of her truth on every heart; and 
 in her language, her deportment, were such 
 evidences of a distinguished education, and 
 of high bred habits, that, with spontaneous 
 emulation, all who heard, vied in treating 
 her not merely with benevolence, but with 
 delicacy. 
 
 Fitz Aymer, meanwhile, shut up with hi* 
 friend, now Colonel Beauchamp, was re- 
 counting to him, at his own desire, and as 
 circumstantially as consideration for his 
 feelings would allow, the particulars attend- 
 ing the Shipwreck, which had at once de- 
 prived Felix of a mother, and himself of a 
 very dear wife. Fitz Aymsr spoke with en- 
 thusiasm of the maternal heroism she had
 
 3Q6 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 displayed as the catastrophe approached, 
 which threw Felix solely into his protection ; 
 -.-enlarged, with unabated gratitude, upon 
 the kindness which she had shewn him dur- 
 ing the voyage; and paid to her memory 
 the highest, but most deserved tribute of 
 respect and praise. 
 
 Colonel Beauchamp had long mourned 
 his wife as dead. Other vessels which had 
 sailed in company with that in which she 
 was lost, and had seen it go to pieces, con- 
 veyed the intelligence to India. Yet, though 
 so well informed of the disastrous event, the 
 details gleaned from Fitz Aymer affected 
 him very deeply, and seemed to revive all 
 the consternation and regret which the first 
 tidings of his misfortune had excited. To 
 withdraw his mind imperceptibly from the 
 afflicting subject, Fitz Aymer, after grant- 
 ing some time to the indulgence of his 
 friend^s sorrow, proceeded to give a concise 
 statement of his own escape. He next 
 spoke of Viola ; of her Mother ;— described 
 the coldness and constraint which had 
 marked their early conduct to him; their 
 gradual advances towards cordiality ; lady 
 Earlingford's illness; the confession that.
 
 THE SHIPWEECK. 3^7 
 
 she then made to him of Viola's disguise ; 
 the solemn manner in which she had be- 
 queathed the grieving orphan to his ho- 
 nour; and the calamitous termination of 
 her life which shortly followed : " Since 
 that mournful period," continued Fitz Ay- 
 mer, '^ Viola has been the first, and were 
 it not impious, I might add, the only object 
 of my thoughts ! — To give you any idea of 
 the devoted tenderness with which I love 
 her, unless you knew the qualities which 
 have drawn that tenderness forth, would be 
 impossible. She is all that is innocent, in- 
 genuous, gracious, and endearing ; all that 
 attaches man to the female character;— I 
 find in her, friendship, counsel, consolation ; 
 —every thing that can tend to cherish and 
 render blissful the perfect interchange of 
 heart subsisting between us!- -Yet this 
 sweet, and, I might almost say, idolized 
 creature, maybe despotically torn from me ! 
 —You know the strong prejudice of her 
 father against me; you know the stern 
 inflexibility of his nature; — where now is 
 he ? — Telt me not, dear Beauchamp, that 
 he is returned to England, I implore you ! 
 Should he still be absent, A^iola may, per-
 
 39^ TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 haps, be prevailed upon to give nie her 
 hand immediately ;— but, if on landing, 
 she hears that he is arrived, a thousand 
 conscientious scruples will assail her, which 
 I shall have no power to surmount ;— she 
 will place herself, at once, under his autho- 
 rity, and I may lose her for ever !" 
 
 Fitz Aymer could scarcely have opened 
 his heart to one more strongly predisposed 
 than Colonel Beauchamp, to hear him with 
 interest, to enter with warmth into his 
 affairs, and to feel a zealous inclination to 
 serve him. He had known Fitz Aymer 
 from a boy ; had always loved, sometimes 
 blamed, but neverimputed to him a shadow 
 of dishonour. The inestimable obligation 
 which, in the person of the child, his young 
 friend had conferred upon the father, 
 powerfully heightened the habitual attach- 
 ment which that father had been wont to 
 entertain for him; and mingled with it a 
 sense of gratitude that seemed to render 
 every exertion he could make for him a 
 duty. He now informed his anxious audi- 
 tor, that Sir William Earlingford, broken 
 spirited and miserable in consequence of 
 his heavy domestic calamity, had retired
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 3^9 
 
 completely from public life, and had told 
 Colonel Beauchamp, before he quitted 
 India, that as soon as the affairs connected 
 with his high official situation could be 
 arranged, he should embark for England : 
 *' It is probable, therefore," pursued the 
 Colonel, " that he is by this time on his 
 passage home. I know that he applied 
 for a successor the instant he was capable 
 of writing on business, after hearing the 
 fatal intelligence : that successor is now, I 
 should imagine, appointed,— perhaps ar* 
 rived St his place of ucStination ; for iT^ea 
 who go to ^11 exalted stations are seldom; 
 delayed by so many impediments as occur 
 to those who are about to quit them. The 
 vessel we ourselves are in, has been un» 
 usually slow in her progress ; she is a heavy 
 sailer, and has been further retarded by much 
 unfavourable weather. These are circum- 
 stances which induce me to think it very 
 possible, that Sir William may reach England 
 quite as soon as, nay, even earlier, than pur- 
 selves. Yet do not lose courage, my dearFitz 
 Aymer: his daughter shall not have been 
 so honourably protected— my son shall not 
 have been so generously preserved by you.
 
 550 TALES OF PAKCY. 
 
 in vain!— -Remember the long friendship 
 that has subsisted between us; remem- 
 ber the absolute claim you have acquired 
 to whatever good offices I may have the 
 gratification of being able to perform for 
 you ; and remember, that Sir William Ear- 
 lingford has always honoured me with his 
 regard, and that the terms we are upon, au^ 
 thorize me lo mediate between you, and 
 may put it in my power to effect your per- 
 manent and sincere reconciliation with 
 him/' 
 
 *' 1 find, then,*' said Fitz Aymer, disap- 
 pointed, " that you would be no advocate 
 for Viola's marrying me before she sees her 
 father?" 
 
 " I have long been persuaded,'* answered 
 Beauchamp, " that the best pledge a wo- 
 man can give of her intention to make a 
 good wife, is that of performing the part of 
 a good daughter. Your Viola, you tell me, 
 is at present all that is upright and amiable; 
 encourage, rather than dissuade, in her — 
 and that for your own sake, as well as 
 others — these characteristics ; — permit, I 
 should rather say — applaud her, for paying 
 due reverence to the father who now mourns
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 351 
 
 her so bitterly as lost, and who will receive 
 her with such rapture when restored. Re- 
 specting yoii^ the opinions he has expressed 
 may have appeared acrimonious: respect- 
 ing lier^ his feelings and sentiments have 
 ever been the very essence of kindness ; 
 she was his pride, his joy, his chief earthly 
 hope. If she neglects, or shews a want of 
 proper consideration for such a parent, I . 
 shall think her as unworthy of being your 
 wife, as of being the daughter of so excel- 
 lent a man.'* 
 
 " I hope," cried Fitz Aymer, somewhat 
 impatiently, " that all these axioms of duty 
 and submission, apply to her only upon the 
 supposition that her father is already in 
 England, or arrives there at the same period 
 with ourselves ? You do not mean that, if 
 he is still in India, or even still upon his 
 passage, she is to await the efficacy of a 
 written application to him ; and, with an 
 almost assured prospect of its failure, sen- 
 tence me to all the horrors of procrastina- 
 tion, suspense — and finally, perhaps, re- 
 jection!" 
 
 " No,** replied the colonel ; " if we learn 
 that Sir William has, by any unforeseen oc-
 
 33'2 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 currencej been induced to defer his etti- 
 barkation ; that another season must pass 
 before you can receive his answer to your 
 proposals — marry his daughter as soon as 
 you can prevail upon her to give you her 
 hand. You have too nobly deserved her^ 
 to incur censure for thus seeking to abridge 
 the long period of painful uncertainty in 
 which you would otherwise be held. All 
 I meant to persuade you against, was the 
 impropriety of urging your future wife to 
 treat her father with the species of con- 
 tempt that would be evinced by a marriage 
 contracted almost in his sight, yet without 
 his knowledge, without even an application 
 for his consent." 
 
 *' It is possible, however,*' cried Fitz Ay- 
 mer. '' that such, after all, might be the 
 least offensive mode oF proceeding. 1 am 
 irrevocably determined never to give Viola 
 up; she has solemnly pledged herself nevep 
 to renounce me. If Sir William persever- 
 ingly refuses us his suffrage, and we marry 
 without it, will he not have reason to say, 
 that his daughter has added insult and 
 mockery to disobedience .^" 
 
 '* No : but he would have to accuse him^
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 333 
 
 Belf o'i errors of a far deeper die ; of ingrati- 
 tude towards his benefactor; of implaca- 
 bility towards one, who, under circum- 
 stances the most trying that man ever was 
 placed in, proved the righteous guardian of 
 his dausfhter's honour ! I can imao^ine no 
 obligations higher, more important, than 
 those which you have conferred upon him. 
 Even your benevolence to my poor boy, is 
 not in any degree equivalent to the merit of 
 your conduct towards Viola : I know not 
 any terms strong enough to express the ad- 
 miration to which 1 think it entitled/* 
 
 Sensibly gratified by this warm testimony 
 of approbation;, and considerably reheved 
 by the concluding part of their conference, 
 Fitz Aymer now consulted his friend upon 
 the expediency of yielding to Viola's wish 
 of passing, whilst on board, for his sister: 
 " You^ Beauchamp,'^ said he, "^ are cer- 
 tainly well aware that I have no such rela- 
 tion : but, probably, not another individual 
 in the vessel ever heard my name till to- 
 day, or can possibly tell, whether I have 
 one sister, or a dozen, or none at all. Do 
 you see any real objection to the temporary 
 imposition ?'*
 
 354/ TALES OP FANCY. 
 
 *' In general, I hate impositions of every 
 kind," answered the colonel ; " but this is 
 one, which even her father, I think, would 
 sanction, and thank you for practising. The 
 fewer people are informed that Miss Ear- 
 lingford has lived many months, almost 
 alone in a desert, with a man professedly 
 her lover, the better: call her, therefore, 
 Fitz Aymer for the present, by all means ; 
 and believe me, my dear fellow, it is the 
 first wish of my heart, that you may soon be 
 legally entitled to call her so for life." 
 
 Fitz Aymer warmly thanked him, and 
 their conversation then branched off into 
 other subjects. 
 
 i
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 335 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 •Why should we 
 
 Anticipate our sorrows ? 'tis like those 
 That die for fear of death. 
 
 Denhas* 
 'Tis man alone that ' grieP descries 
 With forward and reverted eyes* 
 
 Gray, 
 
 When Viola and Fitz Aymer met again, 
 they had both, by the intervention of their 
 new friends, obtained the indulgence of a 
 complete change of attire. She was in deep 
 mourning; and it gratified and touched her 
 to observe, that the dress he had selected 
 was of the same hue. They walked toge- 
 ther on the deck a considerable time ; and 
 Viola learnt with pleasure, that Watson had 
 obtained as flivourable a reception as them- 
 selves, and seemed already to feel himself 
 perfectly at home. Fitz Aymer also commu- 
 nicated to her the heads of his conversation 
 with Colonel Beauchamp ; she deeply la-
 
 33G TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 niented the grief to which her father was 
 described to be a prey; and in defiance of 
 all the terror which his well-known repug- 
 nance to Fitz Aymer inspired^ could not 
 but tenderly rejoice at the prospect of so 
 soon seeing him again. She was then told, 
 and heard with satisfaction, that Colonel 
 Beauchamp saw nothing to disapprove in 
 the assertion of their pretended affinity. 
 After this, she enquired how Felix bore 
 the sudden transfer from their protection to 
 that of a father whose person he had so to- 
 tally forgotten. Fitz Aymer said, that the 
 child shewed no disinclination to familiarize 
 himself with Colonel Beauchamp : but that 
 he was so shy of every one else on board, 
 that though the vessel was crowded with 
 children, he would neither speak to, nor 
 scarcely look at one of them. 
 
 Ere they were interrupted, they fixed 
 upon the hours when they were each day to^ j 
 meet, and enjoy an interval of confidential 
 intercourse ; both agreeing, that their escape 
 from the island, if deprived of that gratifi- 
 cation, would scarcely appear to them a 
 
 blessing. 
 
 A week elapsed, and every circumstance, 
 
 1
 
 ^HE SHIPWRECfC. 337 
 
 exterior and interior, seemed conspiring to 
 the felicity of their voyage. The vveath*r 
 was all that could be wished ; their accom- 
 modations, excellent in themselves, had 
 the additional zest which long privation 
 gives to every advantage; the society into 
 which they were thrown, was, in general, 
 polished, well-informed, and cheerful, and 
 their own spirits, insensibly recovering their 
 native elasticity, rose to the tone which 
 reigned throughout the party, and were n 
 perfect harmony with every thing around, 
 A cjoud, however, shortly intervened, and 
 threatened, for a season, to obscure their 
 whole horizon. 
 
 One of the most distinguished amongst 
 the passengers, was a gentleman named 
 Melbourne ; who, after residini^- some year^ 
 in Bengal, where he held a very responsible 
 situation, was returning to his native 
 country, satisfied with the acquirement of 
 a moderate but honourably. obtained for- 
 tune, and rewarded by the just esteem and 
 approbation of the whole settlement. Fit2 
 Aymer, early prepossessed in his favour, 
 had presented hitn to Viola, and taught her 
 to value, as they deserved, the tiupcriority 
 Q
 
 33S TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 of his abilities, and the charms of his con- 
 versation. His spring of Hfe, indeed, was 
 passed : he was no longer very young : but 
 his face and figure, the one regular, yet 
 expressive, the other, manly and dignified, 
 gave him pretensions to personal beauty, 
 which few men, at any age, could have 
 rivalled. Colonel Beauchamp, without 
 specifying his exact reasons, had, once or 
 twice, significantly smiling, cautioned Fitz 
 Aymer not to encourage, between his sister 
 and Mr. Melbourne, too frequent an inter- 
 course : '' You are prone to jealousy, I 
 believe," said he; " and had better avoid 
 every danger of falling into that infirmity." 
 " But why should you,^' enquired Fitz 
 Aymer, *' so peculiarly put me on my 
 guard respecting Mr. Melbourne ? — Is he a 
 libertine ? — A seducer ?" 
 
 " By no means : on the contrary, I have 
 every reason to think him conscientiously 
 moral and well principled/' 
 
 This was all that could be drawn from 
 the mysterious Colonel ; and Fitz Aymer, 
 perplexed, and ill at ease, applied himself, 
 almost unconsciously, to thecomfortless 
 task of being a secret watcher of every look
 
 l-HE SHIPWRECK. 339 
 
 atid word which Mr. Melbourne should 
 henceforward address to Viola, He soon 
 became aware, that, though strictly cir- 
 cumspect in his language, the ej/es of that 
 gentleman were not under equal controiil: 
 he saw them frequently fixed upon th6 
 face of Viola with an expression so closely 
 allied to tenderness, as well as admiration* 
 that his whole soul took the alarm. He 
 drew her apart; — spoke to her upon the 
 subject of his disquiet, ond implored her tO 
 subject herself as seldom as possible to these 
 enamoured contemplations. Viola, yield*- 
 ing and kind,— -happy only when she saw 
 him happy,- hesitated not, though with a 
 half-admonitory smile, to give him everv 
 assurance of her ready compliance with hi^ 
 wishes that he could desire. After this, 
 all went on smoothly for some days : an 
 unlucky discovery was then made by Fitz 
 Aymer, which revived his disturbance 
 more painfully than ever. 
 
 He was listening to one of the gentlemen 
 on board, who was giving a very interesting 
 account of the flattering and extraordinary 
 testimonies of regret shewn by every class 
 of men in India on the first intimation of 
 Q 2
 
 340 TALFS OF FANCY, 
 
 Mr. Melbourne's intended departure, wliea 
 he was startled by hearing a by-stander 
 observe, that the very ship in which Mr. 
 Fitz Aynier had been wrecked, had brought 
 out a young lady, the daughter of Sir 
 William Earlingford, who, if she had sur- 
 vived, was intended to have been Mr. 
 Melbourne's wife. Fitz Aymer abruptly 
 turned, and asked the author of this asser- 
 tion on what authority it rested. The 
 speaker seemed surprised at the sudden 
 and almost imperious enquiry; but an- 
 swered, without hesitation, that he had 
 often been in company with Sir William, 
 and had heard him, before the wreck was 
 known, make the communication to a 
 friend with whom they both diiicd. 
 
 '' And was it in consequence of his 
 disappointment, then,'' asked Fitz Aymer, 
 " that Mr. Melbourne so speedily left 
 India?" 
 
 " Not entirely, I believe," replied -the 
 stranger: *' he assisfned family reasons for 
 wishing to return home; though, perhaps, 
 if he had married, he might have been 
 content to prolong his absence from Europe 
 some vears.'^
 
 THE SHIPWRECK, 341 
 
 Fitz Aymer flew with the unwelcome 
 •hitelhgence, thus collected, to Colonel 
 Beauchamp: "I knew all this beibre,^^ 
 cried the friendly soldier; '* but where 
 would have been the use of telling it to 
 you ? It has thrown your blood into 
 a ferment, and done all the mischief 
 which these random informants, with or 
 without design, commonly accomplish* 
 But now, Fitz Aymer, listen to me dis- 
 passionately, and let me try to set your 
 impetuous mind a little at rest. Beautiful 
 as your Viola is, she attracts not so intently 
 the observation of Mr. Melbourne on the 
 strength of her own fascinations, as in con- 
 sequence of a likeness which he fancies he 
 discovers between her and a lady with 
 whom he was once madly in love. Thii 
 he acknowledged to me, on being rallied 
 upon the extraordinary perseverance with 
 which I had often seen him gazing at your 
 pretended sister. I should hope, therefore, 
 that as you took my hint, and withdrew 
 Viola as early as you could from his unre- 
 strained observation, there can be no dan- 
 ger of his becomuig seriously your rival,'* 
 
 " Not when he learns who she really 
 q3
 
 342 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 is ?*' cried the agitated Fitz Aymer. ** Not 
 when he finds that she is the very woman 
 he was engaged to marry ? — Oh^ Beau- 
 champ, how superficially have you con- 
 sidered the circumstances of a case which 
 appears to me so pregnant with danger J 
 Whatever gloss he may put upon the 
 marked attention with which he eyes her, 
 be assured that love — love of Viola indivi* 
 dually— is its origin ! And this man,*^ 
 continued he, walking rapidly up and dowB^ 
 the colonel's cabin, '* this man will be shut 
 up with her in the narrow confines of a ship, 
 whole weeks, I should rather say, whole 
 months longer; will have daily and innu^ 
 merable opportunities, whatever precau.-- 
 tions we may use, of seeing, of hearing, of 
 conversing with her ! She has not, as during 
 her former voyage, a cabin exclusively her 
 own : she shares that of Mrs. Sidney : she 
 is, in a measure, obliged to be almost per- 
 petually with her; and this dreaded Mel- 
 bourne courts the favour, and insinuates 
 himself into the society of Mrs. Sidney, 
 with an assiduity that can only have her 
 young friend for its object. — Oh, how will 
 my unpractised Viola surmount the danger
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 345 
 
 of a siege so long protracted by a man of 
 Melbourne's accomplishments — of Mel- 
 bourne's talents and capacity to please?— 
 This, this is the trial I have ever feared. 
 Viola has seen so little of the world; and 
 when she accepted the surrender of my 
 heart, was so totally without the power of 
 choice ; so ignorant what were the qualifi- 
 cations which, had she lived in a state of 
 society, would have directed her selection, 
 that, now I behold her exposed to the 
 homage of a man so highly endowed, I 
 cannot but tremble at tlje impression 
 which it may gradually and involuntarily 
 produce upon her inexperienced mind." 
 
 " With these doubts of the influence 
 which a competitor may obtain over her," 
 said the Colonel, " is it not fortunate for 
 you both^ that an opportunity should occur, 
 before you are irrevocably united, of making 
 experiment of the steadiness of her affec- 
 tion ? If she is capable of ceasing exclu- 
 sively to love you now, there can be no 
 question that she would have been capable 
 of the same inconstancy had your hands 
 been already joined ; — and, in such a case, 
 Q 4
 
 344 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 how infinitely greater would have been youy 
 misery." 
 
 *' 1 cannot allow/^ earnestly resumed 
 J'itz Aymer, " that if we had actually been 
 anarried, the danger would in any degree 
 hzve been equal. What man of principle^ 
 such as you aver Mr. Melbourne to be, 
 would have singled out a married woman as 
 Ihe object of his devotion in the pointed 
 ananner that he has singled out Viola? 
 Even a profligate coxcomb, seeing het 
 under the protection of a husband, would 
 scarcely have ventured so conspicuously to 
 distinguish her. — But this is not all ; — had 
 ahe been my wife, I should have excluded 
 from her heart ihe possibilitj/ of any change 
 in its affection ; — my own faithful attach- 
 ment ; my delight in her society ; my soli- 
 citude to gratify every wish she could 
 form, would have been such strong, though 
 imperceptible chains, that they could not 
 but have bound her, from day to day, more 
 indissolubly to me.'^ 
 
 '' That they will bind such a nature as 
 Viola's,'^ said Beauchamp, " I can enter- 
 tain no doubt: but that thev would have
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 545 
 
 ^h^en of eiTicacy to iix the iove of a vvaver- 
 ";•, capricious wopjaii, 1 have not the 
 8n;»]!e::;t belief. Some of the most ccquetish 
 \v;vr3 I have ew.r kiiOvvn, have had the 
 iriO?i rlF-^ctionate husbands. Indulgence 
 riid Rtiachinent will, undoubtedly, upon 
 :: uiio dispositioiis, produce their merited 
 e.T;x*t : b':t it n^fist be where there is vir- 
 tue ; v^ ere a Hoiise of duty would almost 
 supcrs'iic their neCv:: -ily, and stiniulate to 
 equal good conduct u aether beloved or 
 not." 
 
 Fitz Aymev, '.ut i'lt!''* tranqsjillized by 
 this conversario , novy sought v^iola, and 
 coinaiunicattd to her ali that he had re- 
 cently leariied reepecting the engagement 
 with Mr. Melbourne iiito which her father 
 had entered, lie sui'Uinized her counte- 
 nance, whilst speaking, with an air of ill- 
 concealed alarm, that escaped not her ob- 
 servation ; still less so, did the espressioii 
 of deep dejection imprinted upon every 
 feature : " My hour of trial then is come,'* 
 said he — " dear Fitz Aymer, you always 
 foretold, that, u'ith a novice like me, such 
 a moment must arrive. Bear it with re- 
 solution; condemn me not, till you find 
 Q 6
 
 3*6 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 that I am, indeed, the light and faithless 
 being your imagination is too ready to repre- 
 sent me; — make not yourself unhappy— 
 nor me by seeing you so— till you have 
 proof that your heart has been misbestowed. 
 And now, tell me," added she, affection- 
 ately, ** is there any thing relating to Mr. 
 Melbourne which I can further do, any 
 change which I can make in my present 
 system of conduct, that w^ould in any mea- 
 sure tend to your relief. You have but to 
 hint the slightest wish; and such not only 
 is my anxiety to see you easy, but my hap- 
 piness in feeling conscious of acting conti- 
 nually by your direction, that I shall hear 
 the charge with thanks. Before I knew 
 you, Fitz Aymer, 1 felt some gratification 
 in occasionally indulging a will of my own : 
 my highest gratification now, is to comply 
 with your's.^' 
 
 " Excellent and gentle-hearted creature !'* 
 exclaimed the grateful Fitz Aymer : " a 
 speech like this, —an abdication of your 
 own freedom so cheerful and generous, 
 would re-assure suspicion itself 1 — Of your 
 inalterable faith, then, my Viola^ I will no 
 longer be incredulous; it would be almosl
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 34*7 
 
 heresy : but of Mr. Melbourne's encreasing 
 passion — friendship — admiration — call it 
 what you please, I have a most decided be- 
 lief: and the constant dread upon my mind 
 js, that by the time we arrive in England, 
 his attachment will have attained to such a 
 height, that when he discovers you to be 
 his once destined wife, his ardour to ob- 
 tain your hand will exceed even your fa- 
 ther's to bestow it.'* 
 
 '^ Fitz Aymer/' cried Viola, producing, 
 with great emotion, a written paper, " I 
 have now in my hands a palliative for 
 your fears, which I think will more than 
 ever attach you to the memory of her, by 
 whom it was so benevolently provided! 
 This is the letter,'* added she, vainly en- 
 deavouring to disperse her tears, " which 
 my beloved mother wrote in her dying mo- 
 ments. I permitted myself — since the time 
 seems now drawing so near when I may 
 look forward to a meeting with my father— 
 I permitted myself this morning to opt n it. 
 The characters in which it is traced, you 
 will find, are scarcely legible; but its affect- 
 ing purport is distinct, and will penetrate
 
 S48 
 
 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 you to tlie heart. Read it, clearest Fitz^ 
 Aymer ; it will speak best for itself.*' ' 
 
 She then presented to him, first pressing 
 it with pious reverence to her lips, the pre- 
 cious and long-treasured paper. Its con- 
 tents were as follows : 
 
 " If the dear child, in whose behalf I 
 •* make this final effort to address you, sur- 
 '' vives the multiplied dangers and afflictions 
 *' to which she is now exposed, she will in- 
 ** form you how awful were the circumstan- 
 ^' ces under which it was written. I have 
 *' neither strength, nor probably shall have 
 '' life, for details: my sentence is passed, and 
 ** the torpor already creeping through my 
 *' frame, assures me that a iew hours are all 
 •* that remain to me of life. Suffer me, then, 
 *' my husband, ere I go hence, and am no mom 
 ** seen, suffer me to plead to you for the two 
 *' inestimable beings now emulating each 
 *' other in tenderness to my departing spi- 
 •' rit ; — the two beings on whom my latest 
 " looks will rest, my latest thoughts will be 
 *' fixed. In their arms I shall expire, — 
 *'• and, oh, how aerenely ! could I quit hfe
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 349 
 
 •^assured of their future happiness! Ear- 
 *' lingford, that harjpiiiess, if your child is 
 " ever restored to you, will depend upon 
 " 3'our reception of the youthful guardian 
 *' to whose solemnly-plighted honour I am 
 " compelled to consign her. He has, though 
 " unconsciously, won her whole heart; he 
 *' has also, let me own it, won my must un- 
 *' qualiiied approbation. Oh, if he adheres 
 *' to his oath, — if he indeed presents her to 
 "^ you, innocent and pure as when commit- 
 '' ted to his trust, what will you not owe 
 *' him ! Banish, in such a case, 1 adjure 
 '' you, every vestige of resentment for past 
 *' offences; take him to your heart, Ear- 
 " lingford — bless, respect, an^l love him; 
 '* and should his feelings be responsive to 
 " our child's, make him your son ! His be 
 '' the caie, to render the sweet wife his 
 /' virtues will have obtained^ as happy as 
 '* you have rendered her grateful mother. 
 '* Earlingford, in tliis world, we shall meet 
 *' no more !— in this world you will never 
 " hear the blessings which my heart pours 
 ** forth, and mingles with the prayers it 
 "offers up for your temporal and eternal 
 ** welfare. May they be registered in Hea-
 
 560 TALES OP FANCY, 
 
 •' ven, and conduce with your own virtues, 
 •' to secure to you the rewards promised to 
 " the just! My excellent husband, fare- 
 « well !'' 
 
 C. E. 
 
 With moistened eyes, and feelings of gra- 
 titude too powerful for words, Fitz Aymer 
 restored this invaluable document. Viola 
 folded, and carefully replacing it, returned 
 to her companion, and resting her hand 
 upon his arm, looked anxiously in his face, 
 saying: " Are you still diffident, dear Fitz 
 Aymer, of my father's willingness to relent? 
 Do you believe it possible that he should 
 resist an injunction such as this ? Oh, do 
 him greater justice ! He will listen to my 
 prayers ;— -he will grant all that my mother 
 has so touchingly solicited;— -his arms will 
 be open to us both, and our happiness will 
 be trebled by receiving its confirmation from 
 his lips/* 
 
 " My sweet friend,^' cried Fitz Aymer, 
 surveying with delight the earnestness and 
 animation of countenance with which she 
 spoke, " I will endeavour to cherish these 
 hopes as confidently as you would have me.
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. SSI 
 
 During this tedious interval of suspense, 
 what, indeed, save hope, have I to subsist 
 on? It would have been food more invi- 
 gorating, however, had Mr. Melbourne been 
 out of the question ; but even in the view 
 of such a repellent to its full efficacy, I will 
 encourage as much as possible all good, 
 and cheerful thoughts ; and harass you nd 
 more by murmurs and distrusts." 
 
 And, to do him justice, he adhered during 
 the remainder of the voyage with tolerable 
 steadiness to these laudable resolutions. 
 Not that he could at all times endure, with- 
 out complaint, to see Viola submitting to 
 the encroachments made upon her time by 
 tbe unconscionable Mrs. Sidney ; who, it 
 appeared to him, was never so happy as 
 when devising little schemes to facilitate the 
 intercourse of Mr. Melbourne with her 
 young protegee. The coldness, however 
 with which Viola uniformly received that 
 gentleman's attentions, threw, by degrees, 
 a reserve and distance into his manners, 
 which all Mrs. Sidney's zeal for his success, 
 and activity in promoting it, failed to re- 
 move* The change thus operated, was 
 balm to Fitz Aymer's sensitive feeling*.
 
 fjtt TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 He began once more to view Mr. Melbourne 
 U'ith unprejudiced eyes; to engage readily 
 in conversation with him; and to admit, 
 that wherever he appeared in any character 
 but that of a rival, he was tlie most desira^ 
 Lie ota!l possible additions to society. 
 
 At length, with emotions too various to 
 be defined, Viola heard one morning, 
 through the medium of little Felix, who 
 was dispatched by Fitz Aymer to her bed- 
 side with the intelligence, that the sailor* 
 had j,ust descried the English coast. Joy- 
 ful, yet perturbed', — a tear and a smile con- 
 tending for precedence — she instantly arose, 
 and dressing with all the expedition in her 
 power, hastened to the deck. She was 
 met,, the moment she appeared, by Colonel 
 Beauchamp and his friend ; who confirmed 
 the tidings, and attemj)ted — on the part of 
 Fitz Ay mer it was onlij an attempt — to utter 
 congratulations. But his whole soul was 
 in tumults:— and ev^ery alarm he had ex- 
 perienced throughout the voyage, seemed 
 feeble compared with that which assailed 
 him on this first appearance of the land 
 where his fate was so soon to be decided. 
 Scarcely able to utter a coherent sentence,
 
 tHE SHIPWRECK. SA 
 
 yet talking rapidly,---affectingan air of ani- 
 mation, yet pale, and, in defiance of himself, 
 betraying the strongest internal disturbance, 
 he drew her arm within his own, and led 
 her to the side of the deck. There, remo- 
 ved from observers, his hurry of spirits and 
 forced volubility, subsided at once into 
 silence and abstraction;— and when Viola, 
 after standing patiently beside him some 
 minutes, expecting to hear a motive assign- 
 ed for having been thus drawn apart, inter- 
 rupted, by her enquiries, the cheerless 
 meditation into which he had fallen, his 
 ideas appeared so. confused, that it was 
 evident he, at first, neither understood what 
 she said, nor remembered the design of hi» 
 Own movements. Surprised, and almost 
 affrighted at the strangeness of his looks and 
 manner, Viola now called upon him ear- 
 tiestly to recollect himself! — Her voice 
 could not be long addressed to him in vain: 
 he withdrew his eyes froni the distant 
 prospect on which they had been fixed, and 
 resting them with an air the most melan- 
 choly upon her anxious countenance, said : 
 " I brought you hither, beloved Viola, to 
 contemplate with me yonder shore— to aid
 
 334 TALEia OF FANCY. 
 
 me in trying to develope the destiny await- 
 ing us in the— would I could say dear land 
 now in view ! — But, at this moment, I have 
 no feelings towards my mother^country that 
 are not joyless and unnatural. All my old 
 attachments seem faded from my remem- 
 brance ;— the very brother I have so cordi- 
 ally loved, — the connexions, the friends I 
 ought so much to delight in the expecta- 
 tion of meeting again,— hard, unfeeling as 
 it may sound, they are all as nothing to me ! 
 I have but one thought, but one wish, but 
 one object either or hope or fear. Without 
 you, Viola, that land of my birth, — that 
 Jand, at sight of v/hich my heart should leap 
 with transport, — without you, it would be 
 to me a land of abhorrence ! I shall never 
 know in it a smiling hour, — I shall neveir 
 see on its whole extended surface, a coun- 
 tenance that would gladden my eye, nor 
 hear a voice that will cheer my sense of 
 desolation, if you, Viola, are torn from me !*' 
 He then, with an impassioned energy, with 
 a vehemence of supplication that almost 
 defied resistance, implored her, whatever 
 Colonel Beauchamp might have urged to 
 dissuade her from such ameasure, instantly
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 355 
 
 to accompany him to the altar on arriving 
 in port. To oppose Fitz Aymer, was a 
 trial to poor Viola so new, and so exquisite- 
 ly painful, that her firmness nearly sunk 
 under it. Yet, devoted to him as she was, 
 the soundness of their friend's arguments 
 against the plan now proposed, had stamped 
 such perfect conviction upon her mind, 
 and left there so indelible an impression, 
 that they acted as a sort of talisman, and 
 saved her from her own weakness. — As soon 
 as she was sufficiently collected to speak, 
 she renewed every profession of unchange- 
 able attachment which she had ever utter- 
 ed ; repeated the vow she had so often 
 made of living only for Fitz Aymer ; — but, 
 till her father had been consulted, if already 
 landed; or till his consent had been solicit- 
 ed if he was speedily expected, she gently, 
 yet steadily refused to give herself awa}^ 
 In vain Fitz Aymer tried to shake her de* 
 termination ; in vain he tried even to resent 
 her rejection : it was spoken in words so 
 guarded, with looks so full of sweetness, 
 and in an accent of such tender regret, that 
 it was as impossible to charge her with wani
 
 S56 TALES OP FANCY. 
 
 of sensibility, as to condemn the virtuous 
 principle that restrained it. 
 
 When Colonel Beauchamp was mad* 
 acquainted (and Fiiz Aymer himself had 
 the generosity to be his informant) with the 
 attack she had sustained and so honourably 
 overcome, he was enchanted : " I have only 
 to wish," cried he, " that my dear boy, wheo 
 he arrives at manhood, when he comes to 
 be a hot-brained lover like this impetuous 
 Fitz Aymer, may meet with a mistress ai 
 mildly resolute, as persevering in goodness, 
 as wise, and yet as feeling as our lovely 
 Viola!" 
 
 Swiftly now fled the hours which Viola, 
 with a sort of chastened pleasure, of joy 
 counteracted by unavoidable apprehension, 
 had yet to spend on board the vessel. The 
 moment of landing soon arrived ; and with 
 palpitating hearts, she and Fitz Aymer once 
 laiore found themselves on their natal soil.
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 557 
 
 CHAP. XVI. 
 
 -Dearest, look up 
 
 Though fortune, visible an enemy, 
 
 Should chase us, power uo jot 
 
 Hath she to change our loves — Beseech you, Sir, 
 Kemember since you ow'd no more to time 
 Than I do now : with thought of such affectloni 
 Step forth mine advocate ; at your request, 
 Her father will grant precious things as trifles. 
 
 Shaives?ear» 
 
 It had been agreed, that Viola and Fitz 
 Aymer, after taking leave of the friends with 
 whom they had sailed, should immediately 
 accompany Colonel Beauchamp to London, 
 When there, Viola was to be •consigned to 
 the protection of a sister of the CoioneFs, 
 who, since the death of her husband, had 
 resided in her brother's house, and had for- 
 merly been intimately acquainted with 
 Viola's mother. Watson rode with the 
 Colonel's servant upon the box, solaced by 
 the promise of Fitz Avmer to befriend him
 
 33S TALES OP FANCY. 
 
 through life, and encouraged, if he wished 
 to quit the sea, to look wholly towards the 
 companion of his late difficulties, for sup- 
 port on shore. Felix occupied the fourth 
 place in their vehicle ; and Mr. Melbourne, 
 travelling post as well as themselves, took 
 his departure for town nearly at the sam6 
 instant. 
 
 Every mile, as they rapidly approached 
 the capital, encreased the agitation of th* 
 two exiles. Interesting as the face of the 
 country,— and delightful as the privilege of 
 once more calling themselves at home would 
 have appeared at a season of less anxious 
 incertitude, the enjoyments resulting from 
 these local circumstances, were scarcely felt 
 amid the perplexities of thought attending 
 the more immediate concerns of their own 
 hearts. From time to time, however, ai 
 they came in view of any object familiar to 
 their sight, and associated with the remem- 
 brance of former incidents and emotions, 
 their thouglits were for a while withdrawn 
 from themselves^ and led back to periods 
 that were no more. Thus, on approaching 
 one of the inns that lay in their road, Viola 
 recollected that it was there her lamented
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 359 
 
 bother had slept for the last time, previous 
 :o embarking for a foreign grave ; — and, with 
 tears, pointed it out to her companions. At 
 other spots, other occurrences were recalled 
 to memory; and neither the Colonel nor 
 ritz Aytner were exempt from reminiscences 
 more or less corresponding with the sadness 
 of her own. It was a journey which they 
 had often performed^ but seldom in a happy 
 frame of mind ; — for when their horses* 
 heads were turned towards the coast, it 
 usually happened, that a melancholy part- 
 ing from friends and family had just pre- 
 ceded the ch^ige of scene, and had still left 
 with them that weight of heart which such 
 separations always cause: when travelling 
 in the direction which they were now pur- 
 suing, their minds had been full of regret 
 for comrades who had fallen ; or they had 
 returned, wounded themselves, sick, suf- 
 fering, and debilitated by the climates to 
 which they had been exposed. — These were 
 not remembrances which could produce 
 agreeable reflections. 
 
 In driving, after ihey reached town, to 
 the residence of Colonel Beauchamp, Viola 
 found herself, before she was aware what
 
 360 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 Streets she was passing through, suddenly 
 turning the angle of the square in which 
 stood the house of her father. It was a 
 <5orner building, and she had a close and full 
 view of both its fronts. The drawing-room 
 floor was lighted up, and a footman, in Sir 
 William's livery, was standing at the half 
 open door — '• Oh, Heaven!" exclaimed 
 she, grasping Beauchamp's arm, " My father 
 is arrived 1 — Stop the carriage, dear Colonel, 
 I implore you I Stop it, and make immediate 
 enquiries. I cannot lose sight of the house 
 in this tormenting state of uncertainty !" 
 
 Without pausing to answer her. Beau- 
 champ called to his servant to let him out, 
 and as he sprung from the step, Viola made 
 an involujitary attempt to dart after him: 
 but Fitz Aymer held her back ; urging, that 
 even for her father*s sake, if he was really 
 arrived, she ought to restrain her impati- 
 ence ; since there could not be a doubt, that 
 to appear before bim^ like one newly risen 
 from the dead, without giving him time for 
 preparation, would be putting his feelings 
 to too great a trial. This reasoning admiaed 
 no dispute, and she submitted: but with 
 breathless anxiety, leaned from the carriage 
 
 I
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 36l 
 
 v/indow whilst Colonel Beaiichamp was 
 speaking to the footman, and watched in- 
 cessantly all his movements. Fitz Aymer 
 supporting and trying to calm her, though 
 no less intent than herself in observing what 
 passed, could yet hear nothing that was 
 said : but he saw the servant, after the 
 Colonel had addressed to him a few words, 
 indicate an intention, from which, however, 
 he was withheld, of entering the house as if 
 to announce him ; and afterwards remarked, 
 that he several times bowed respectfully, like 
 one receiving some message which he was 
 promising punctually to deliver.— In a few 
 minutes, the Colonel came back, and as he 
 re-entered the carriage, Viola, panting with 
 eagerness, cried — " Oh, tell me quickly!— 
 is he— is he there !" 
 
 " He is expected every hour." 
 " Expected only?" incredulously re- 
 peated Fitz Aymer — " then why those 
 lights ?— Beauchamp, he is surely arrived V* 
 Beauchamp remained silent : and Yioja, 
 interpreting that silence into a full confir- 
 mation of the fact, which was, at once, a- 
 cause to her of such dread and joy, strug 
 gled for a few moments with her feelings 
 
 R
 
 363 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 and then, half fainting, sunk back in the 
 carriage, overpowered by the surprise, joined 
 with a thousand other emotions, of so sud- 
 den a discovery. The vehicle was again 
 stopped, and every means used for her re- 
 storation which, in their present circum- 
 stances, could be applied. Her insensibi- 
 lity, never total, scarcely lasted a minute ;— 
 a shower of tears succeeded it, which ap- 
 peared to relieve her ' o*er fraught heart \ 
 and till their arrival at Colonel Beauchamp's 
 door, she wept without ceasing, though not 
 with the bitterness of one who weeps with- 
 out hope, or whose tears, unmitigated by 
 tenderness, flow only from affliction. To 
 Fitz Aymer she left it, as well as his own 
 discomposure would allow, to make every 
 further enquiry that was essential. 
 
 Beauchamp informed them that, from the 
 servant to whom he had applied, he had 
 learned that Sir William had been in town 
 three days ; that he made no complaints, 
 but looked thin and ill ; was extremely out 
 of spirits, and talked of removing into the 
 country as soon as his affairs would permit : 
 " Mrs. Melross," added the Colonel, *' I 
 heard was with him; and 1 therefore de-
 
 IHE SHIPWIIECK. ^6$ 
 
 sired that no mention might be made of me 
 at present ; but that when Sir William was 
 alone, the servant would inform him that I 
 had called, and meant, if I received no mes- 
 sage to put me off, to breakfast with him to- 
 morrow morning." 
 
 Viola, whose hand was locked in Fitz 
 Aymer's, felt that, at these words, he shook 
 with an alarm as powerful as her own : nei- 
 ther of them spoke ; and the Colonel, feel- 
 ing most truly for their pitiable^anxiety, re- 
 joiced rather than regretted, on reaching his 
 own house, to learn from the servant who 
 admitted him, that Mrs. Villiers, his sister, 
 not knowing exactly when to expect him, 
 was gone out. 
 
 Fitz Aymer, though intending to pass 
 the night at an Hotel, alighted, and assisted 
 Viola in ascending to the drawing-room, 
 where, struck by her extreme paleness, and 
 forgetful for the moment of his own dis- 
 quiet, he exhorted her, as she valued his 
 peace, to support her spirits ; — talked to her 
 of hope, — of approaching security ; and late 
 as it grew, refused to leave her, till he had 
 succeeded in drawing from her, at least the 
 R 2
 
 S64! TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 semblance of, a smile, — the precursor, he 
 flattered himself, of reviving courage. 
 
 But courage, at such a juncture, it was 
 not in Viola's nature to exert. — Anxious to 
 escape observation, she retired, ere the re- 
 turn of Mrs. Villiers, to the apartment which 
 had been assigned her, and in timid antici- 
 pations of the events of the morrow; in 
 true filial wishes to embrace her father, and 
 in sorrowfully ruminating upon the almost 
 utter impracticability, (should he oppose 
 her engagement) of conciliating the duty 
 which she owed him, with the justice that 
 Fitz Aymer had so indefeasible a right to 
 claim,— she spent one of the most sleepless 
 and unhappy nights she had almost ever 
 known. 
 
 At an early hour, Colonel Beauchamp 
 came to her door, purposely with the view 
 of recommending to her, with the most con- 
 siderate kindness, not to think herself under 
 any obligation of appearing at his sister's 
 breakfast-table, if such an effort would be 
 painful to her : " You can give your own 
 orders,*^ continued he, *' and at whatever 
 hour you please, can have a basin of tea
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 365 
 
 brought to you in the adjoining dressing- 
 room. Mrs. Villiers is far from being punc- 
 tilious ; she knows that you are not at the 
 present period in a very tranquil state of 
 mind, and she will take no offence at any 
 system of conduct which you may chuse 
 to pursue. But, my dear young friend/* 
 added he, '' I must be furnished with every 
 possible credential before I depart upon the 
 embassy in which 1 have engaged. Give 
 me the letter which your poor mother ad- 
 dressed to Sir William the day she died.'' 
 
 Viola, mentally ejaculating a fervent 
 prayer for its salutary influence, delivered 
 it to the friendly mediator so benevolently 
 embarking in a cause of such incalculable 
 importance to her; and with thanks and 
 blessings warm from her heart, suffered him 
 to leave her. 
 
 As he was, soon after, quitting the house, 
 Fitz Aymer, but little recruited by the night 
 he had passed, entered the hall. As mind- 
 ful ol his comfort as of Viola's, the Colonel 
 bade him, without the ceremony of enquir- 
 ing for Mrs. Villiers, go up to their guest's 
 apartment, and exert his best endeavours 
 to tranquillize her spirits during the period 
 R 3
 
 5C6 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 of his own absence. He then put him under 
 the conduct of a servant, who shewed him 
 the way to Viola's sitting-room, and pro- 
 ceeded on foot towards the abode of Sir 
 William. 
 
 On his arrival, the same footman to whom 
 he had addressed himself the evening before, 
 admitted, and was preparing to usher him 
 immediately into his master's presence; 
 but the Colonel stopped him; and without 
 explaining his reasons, desired him to give 
 instant orders to Sir William's coachman to 
 put his horses in harness, and to hold him- 
 self in readiness to be sent whithersoever 
 bis master might be pleased to command, at 
 a moment's warning. The man stared ; but 
 promised obedience, and then Beauchamp 
 repaired to the library of his friend. 
 
 Sir William Earlinsjford had married at a 
 somewhat advanced age, and was at this 
 period considerably turned of sixty. It 
 was impossible to imagine any thing more 
 venerable, more mildly contemplative, more 
 truly expressive of worth, honour, and sense, 
 than his serious but benignant aspect. Tall 
 and thin, his figure, bent more by sorrow 
 than by years, still retained much of Its ori-
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 567 
 
 ginal elegance, and all its former dignity. 
 He received the Colonel with friendly po- 
 liteness ; thanked him for so early a mark 
 of his remembrance ; and half smiling, 
 added : '* 1 rejected on your account two 
 other visitors who proposed this morning 
 to assist at my solitary breakfast. My niece 
 was one, and Mr. Melbourne the other. He 
 wrote me a note late yesterday evening, to 
 say he was arrived, and to invite himself to 
 my levee : but 1 thought, that as you would 
 not come up last night when Mrs. Melross 
 was here, you might have something to say 
 to me upon business ; and 1 therefore de- 
 clined receiving him till after dinner.^' 
 
 " I am not sorry that you did. Sir Wil- 
 liam/' said the Colonel; for although I 
 have no business to talk over that need 
 interfere with the admission of breakfast, 
 yet, perhaps before 1 go, I may apply 
 to you for a little advice, on an affair of 
 material consequence to some friends L 
 came with from India, who are involved in 
 a good deal of perplexity, and whose story, 
 I think, will interest you. But with an 
 empty stomach, 1 really can enter into no 
 details of other people's adventures; and 
 &4
 
 S68 TALES OP FANCY. 
 
 since you are so good as to promise me a» 
 hour or two of your time, the matter may 
 well be deferred till after the entrance and 
 exit of your tea urn." 
 
 Upon this, Sir William rung for the 
 breakfast equipage ; and during the time 
 they sat over their coffee, the two gentle- 
 men conversed only upon general topics; 
 such as, the affairs connected with the 
 office which Sir William had just resigned ; 
 and the plans that each had formed for the 
 future distribution of their time. The 
 Baronet professed a fixed determination to 
 retire wholly into the country, and to 
 divide, between agriculture and books, the 
 remaining hours of his now lonely pil- 
 grimage. Beauchamp opposed nothing to 
 ' this design : but secretly flattered hiaiself, 
 that in his custody was lodged the charm 
 that w^ould dissolve a dream of rustic seclu- 
 sion so ill adapted to Sir William's ac- 
 tive turn of mind, and the taste he had long 
 indulged for scientific, polished, and intel- 
 lectual society. 
 
 The breakfast cloth being removed, and 
 the servants withdrawn, Sir William, with 
 that benevolent courtesy that accompanied
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 569 
 
 all his offers of service, said : " I hope now, 
 my dear Colonel, that you will delay no 
 longer to inform me in what way I can 
 render myself useful to the friends of whom 
 you were speaking. Tell me, plainly and 
 frankly, is it advice merely that you seek 
 for them, or would aid of a more substantial 
 nature be desirable ? Command me to the 
 extent of my power, in any way that can be 
 most conducive to their advantage." 
 
 " I despair/' cried Beauchamp, " of 
 thanking you as I ought, dear Sir, for this 
 extraordinary kindness; but be assured that 
 I feel it most sensibly. To come now to 
 business, however.— -It will be necessary, 
 before we attempt to decide in what mode 
 your powerful assistance can best contri- 
 bute to benefit my clients, that I should 
 trouble you with the relation of some parti- 
 culars connected with my own affairs, which 
 1 fear, from their association with a lament- 
 ed event, never to be forgotten by either of 
 us, will give you considerable pain. I beg 
 you to believe, that neither on your account 
 nor my own, I would touch upon so trying 
 a subject, were it not essential to the clear 
 developement of the case I have at heart. ^^ 
 R 5
 
 370 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 Sir William, readily anticipating the 
 theme upon which he meant to expatiate, 
 leaned his head upon his hand, fixed his 
 eyes on the floor, and prepared himself to 
 listen with mournful but unshrinking firm- 
 ness. 
 
 After a short pause, Beauchamp, though 
 in a tone less steady than he had begun, 
 thus proceeded : " We both, my dear Sir 
 William, in the vessel which was cast awa}'', 
 had a wife— had a child ! There was on 
 board, also, an officer, young, and a man of 
 fortune, family, and high expectations^ 
 who, during the voyage manifested eminent 
 kindness to my poor boy, and conducted 
 himself with the respect and affection of a 
 son towards that boy's unfortunate mother. 
 This youth, by miracle, was saved— and he 
 saved my son !'* 
 
 Sir William's hand dropped from his face, 
 and he turned on Beauchamp a congratu- 
 lating but almost incredulous eye, which 
 seemed to say: '' Is this really an authen- 
 ticated fact ?*^ 
 
 *' Yes,'* resumed the Colonel ; *' he 
 preserved my boy ; and Providence, by 
 ijieans still more wonderful, preserved two
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 571 
 
 other individuals, educated, and well-born 
 females ; the one, a very lovely girl, the 
 other, her parent. Lashed to a broken mastt 
 they were floated from the wreck during 
 the night, and at day-break found them- 
 selves upon the beach of an uninhabited, 
 but not unproductive island. They sub- 
 sisted, I scarcely know how long, in this 
 desert spot, without suspecting that a single 
 being except themselves had survived the 
 storm. My boy and his protector accident- 
 ally were discovered to them. The presence 
 of this last, his exertions to lighten their 
 calamity, his energy of spirit, and sanguine 
 persistence in hope, cheered their solitude, 
 and almost converted it into an Eden. The 
 youngest of the two females had, from the 
 first moment that he saw her, worn the garb 
 of a boy, and as a boy, whom he treated 
 with the kindness of an elder brother, he 
 long considered her. But the serenity of 
 their lives was soon and fatally interrupted. 
 Two wretches, outcasts even from their 
 own marauding associates, landed on the 
 little terntoiy. The oth r took alarm for 
 her child; she was seized with a fever; a 
 sudden change in the temperature of the air.
 
 372 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 and the influence of unwholesome vapours, 
 probably contributed to accelerate her dis- 
 solution. She expired in the officer's arms, 
 and with her dying breath, revealed to him 
 the deception that had been practised, and 
 bequeathed her daughter to his guardian- 
 ship. He swore to be faithful to the trust ; 
 and to that oath his adherence has been holy 
 and true. He dug the grave of the unhappy 
 parent, and remained with his defenceless 
 charge in the wilderness, throughout the 
 whole rainy season. He attached himself 
 to her with passion, yet invariably respected 
 her innocence ; he toiled for her accommo- 
 dation; he laboured for her support; he 
 consoled her in affliction ; he was her lover, 
 friend, and benefactor, and the most ho- 
 nourable of protectors. This young man, 
 Sir William, and his irreproachable compa- 
 nion, by means which hereafter it may in- 
 terest you to hear related, effected their es- 
 cape from the island, and were taken up in 
 the broad Indian Ocean from an open boat 
 in which they had been exposed a whole 
 day and night, and brought to England in 
 the very ship I was myself on board. They 
 are now in London — now at my house,
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 37 S 
 
 and the child whose life 1 owe to the gene- 
 rous officer, is the partner of their present 
 security, as he was of their former dan- 
 gers." 
 
 Sir Vv^illiam, long since diverted from the 
 stoicism he had afFt^cted when the Colonel 
 first begun, here interrupted the summary 
 narrative, and with an animation that Beau- 
 champ exulted in witnessing, said : 
 
 '' And are these the friends, my dear Colo- 
 nel, whom you wish me to serve ?^^ — Explain 
 to me only what there is I can perform for 
 them, and be persuaded that not only now, 
 but as long as life is lent me, I shall be most 
 zealous in assisting you to pay the debt of 
 gratitude they have laid upon you.'* 
 
 Beauchamp warmly renewed his thanks; 
 and then, auguring more and more favour- 
 ably of the result of the conversation, thus 
 proceeded : " On your influence over the 
 father of the young lady, a man of high con- 
 sideration, now resident in London, her 
 only hope reposes of overcoming the objec- 
 tions which she fears he may make to an 
 alliance with her preservci.** 
 
 " Do 1 then know her father ? Who is 
 he ?''
 
 374? TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 " You know him, I believe, better than 
 most men may be said to know themselves : 
 but you are still to be informed that the 
 young officer, unhappily, incurred, three or 
 four years ago, the severest displeasure of 
 this gentleman; and is now, perhaps justly, 
 in the greatest terror, lest, on account of 
 that misunderstanding, his concurrence to 
 the match should be withheld. Will you 
 have the generosity to plead for him ? Will 
 you represent to the hitherto inveterate pa- 
 rent, as strongly as you appear to feel, the 
 exalted merit of this young man^s conduct, 
 and endeavour to convince him, that if he 
 perseveres in his former animosity, he will 
 give a proof to the world of culpable ingra- 
 titude, of inexorable hardness of heart, 
 which will injure his own fame — which his 
 greatest admirers must condemn, and his 
 very enemies will scarcely credit !" 
 
 " My good friend," said Sir William, 
 *' go to the father yourself; the mission can 
 never be in better hands ; relate to him the 
 ' round, unvarnished tale' I have just heard 
 you deliver, and it will speak for itself: no 
 eloquence can be required — no interest de- 
 manded to give efficiency to such a story.
 
 THE SHIPWRECK, 375 
 
 1 cannot conceive it possible, that a really 
 paternal heart could hear it unmoved. Oh, 
 where is the enemy,*' he feelingly added, 
 '* to whom / could have refused my lost 
 darling, had it pleased Heaven to have given 
 her such a preserver !" 
 
 " Indeed, Sir William V* cried Beau- 
 champ, expressively. 
 
 " Why that implied doubt, Colonel ? am 
 I, inyour opinion, of so very irreconcileable 
 a nature ?'^ 
 
 *' You are, in my opinion, and I think 
 you know it, a man of as warm a heart to- 
 wards your friends, and of as compassionate 
 a one towards the distressed, as any, per- 
 haps, in existence: but— that you are not 
 easily conciliated when once offended-"that 
 your resentments are nearly as strong as your 
 attachments, I fear will admit no question. 
 Re-collect, Sir William, your feelings in 
 regard to some of those, who, in times 
 passed, had the misfortune of being ranked 
 amongst your enemies : recollect, for in- 
 stance, your indignation against young 
 Fitz Aymer, and then tell me, whether the 
 facts 1 have communicated, had they re- 
 lated to hira and to your sweet daughter.
 
 576 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 would have sufficiently outweighed your 
 anger, to in dace you cordially to receive 
 him as her husband ?'' 
 
 *' This, alas ! is imagining so wild an im- 
 possibility, that I scarcely know how to put 
 myself in the predicament of one called 
 upon, in such a case, for a decision. But 
 as well as I can judge of my own heart by 
 the effect your narrative has produced upon 
 it, I think, that even Fitz Aymer, under 
 the circumstances we are supposing, would 
 be secure of obtaining irom me my child." 
 
 The secret exultation of Beauchamp, at 
 having brought Lis auditor to this point, 
 w^as so great, that he was forced to give a 
 few moments to deliberation ere he ven- 
 tured to proceed. When able once more to 
 command an appearance of calmness, he 
 slowly, and with almost trembling caution, 
 drew Lady Earlingford's letter from his 
 pocket, and holding it with the direction 
 downwards, said : " The paper now in my 
 hand, was written in her last moments, and 
 addressed to her husband, by the mother of 
 the young lady whose history you have just 
 heard. I have been permitted to read it, 
 and but that 1 fear it might agitate you too
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 377 
 
 Strongly, 1 could wish. Sir William, that 
 you would read it also. The hand writing, 
 however, will make you start ; for, were it 
 ess irregula r, I should say/' he hesitatingly 
 added, " that it resembles that of your — 
 admirable wife V 
 
 " Of my wife !*' repeated Sir William, 
 changing colour, and hastily rising. " Mer- 
 ciful Heaven ! w hat is it you mean ?'* 
 
 '* Be calm, my honoured friend ! I meaa 
 only good ; I mean, as well as one so un- 
 skilful knows how, to prepare you for ap- 
 proaching happiness. Reflect — consider, 
 what the blessing is, that, were it restored, 
 would most contribute to the comfort of 
 your whole remaiiiing life. Give the reins, 
 without fear, to your imagination, for I 
 scarcely think it can soar beyond the reality 
 of bliss now awaiting- you !*' 
 
 As the colonel concluded this sentence, 
 and with outstretched hand approached the 
 venerable baron^^t, that most touching of 
 human sights — the face of age bathed m 
 tears — met his view ! En ct, though trem- 
 blmg — his streaming eyes uplifted — iiis 
 hands clasped and raised to Heaven, the 
 entranced parent was pouring forth to the
 
 37S TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 Dispenser of such unlooked-for felicity, the 
 pious tribute of his ardent and soul-felt 
 thanks. This grateful duty fulfilled, his 
 thoughts revisited earth :-— he turned to 
 Beauchamp, and supporting his tottering 
 frame with one hand upon the shoulder of 
 that sympathizing friend, said : " You 
 have been, by the gracious selection of Pro- 
 vidence, the instrument of conveying so 
 much rapture to my hean, that 1 want 
 words to give it utterance ! Oh, my friend, 
 complete your work ! Bring my newly- 
 found treasure to these arras ! 1 pine-— 
 I sicken to behold her once again !'* 
 
 " This I, in some degree, anticipated,'* 
 said the colonel, '' and orders were given 
 by me accordingly^ to have your carriage 
 held in readiness, either to convey you at a 
 moment's notice to your daugiiter at my 
 house, or to conduct her to your presence 
 here. Which do you decide upon r" 
 
 " That which will least retard the blessed 
 meeting ! — 1 will go to your house.'^ 
 
 Beauchamp rung the bell, and gave the 
 necessary directions, and in three minutes, 
 the vehicle was at the door. During the 
 short interval that elapsed before its arrival,
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 3/9 
 
 Sir William, with a sigh, demanded the 
 letter of his wife : — the Colonel immediately 
 presented it to him ; but at the same time, 
 said ; *' Defer reading it, dear Sir William, 
 till a calmer moment. Mingle not with 
 the joy to which you have so long been a 
 stranger, the sadness with which a letter 
 written by one so honoured and so mourned 
 would oppress you. That I have been its 
 bearer, sufficiently proves that its contents 
 are highly favourable to Fiiz Aymer ; — so, I 
 trust, my friend, are your feelings. — You 
 will not refuse to see him alter your inter- 
 view with his fair charge ?" 
 
 "Refuse to see him !" cried Sir William 
 — "Oh, no, no ! — let me clasp them to my 
 heart together." 
 
 Leaning upon Beauchamp's arm, weaken- 
 ed and shaking from excess of happiness, 
 he now descended to the carriage. As if 
 conscious that some affair of importance 
 was in agitation, the coachman drove with 
 a velocity that made the distance between 
 the two abodes appear short even to his im- 
 patient master. Within a few doors of his 
 own dwelling, however, the colonel pulled 
 the check-string; got out alone,— rung
 
 3S0 I^ALES OF FANCY. 
 
 instead of knocking for admittance, and 
 enjoining silence to the servants, went back, 
 and brought Sir William without noise into 
 the house. 
 
 These precautions were not greater tiian 
 appeared fully requisite, when, (though 
 alone) he presented himself before Viola. 
 Her tremour on beholding him surpassed 
 description. She could ask no questions, 
 but her eyes seemed to pierce into his very 
 soul; — her ears hung upon his accents; 
 and, as by slow and circumspect gradations, 
 lie revealed, in answer to Fitz Aymer's 
 fearful enquiries, the event of his embassy, 
 her countenance insensibly kindled into an 
 expression of rapture of which no language 
 can give the faintest idea. Like her father, 
 gratitude to Heaven was her first impulse : 
 she sunk upon her knees regardless of the 
 pr' s^nce of human observers, and addressed 
 the warm effusioiis of her thankful heart to 
 the merciful Bestower of a happiness which 
 now knew uo alloy. — Then rising, and 
 taking Fitz Aymer*s arm, she drew him to- 
 wards Colonel Beauchamp, saying : *' Here, 
 here is tiie indefatigable frtend to whose 
 agency on earth we are indebted for this
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 381 
 
 moment of delicious— of perfect joy! — 
 Dearest Fitz Aymer, help me to find words 
 expressive of what I feel; — help me to 
 thank, and unite me in blessing him, for So 
 much zeal and goodness !'* 
 
 Fitz Aymer, his whole aspect irradiated 
 and glowing, wrung the coioners hand with 
 eloquent though silent transport,and snatch- 
 ing Viola to his heart, felt, during the few mo- 
 ments he held her there, that felicity in this 
 stage of existence could reach no higher! — 
 Viola, colouring, yet smiling withdrew her- 
 self from his arms, and again turning to the 
 colonel, eagerly said: '* When, oh, when, 
 best and kindest of men 1 will you lead us 
 to the dear, dear parent your intercessions 
 have rendered so propitious to us !— Could 
 you but imagine how I yearn to see him,—- 
 how I long to hear him bless me,-r-to hear 
 him bless my generous Fitz Aymer, you 
 would take us to his presence this very 
 instant!— I can walk— I think I could fly, 
 to embrace him !" 
 
 Beauchamp, assured that further precau- 
 tions were needless, now, placing her arm 
 within his, and by a look invit/ng Fitz Ay- 
 mer to followa led her out of the room.
 
 ^S2 TALES OF FANCY, 
 
 CHAP. XVII. 
 
 You Gods, look down, 
 
 And from your sacred vials pour your graces 
 Upon my daughter's head !~Tell me, mine own. 
 Where hast thou been preserved ? where li?ed ? 
 
 Shaeespear. 
 
 The bliss obtained by grateful friendship's aid 
 Is doubly bliss! And the boon that's granted 
 In recompense of yirtue, gives a glow 
 Of honourable triumph to the heart, 
 Which ne'er shall visit the cold breast of him 
 Who to blind Fortune owes unearned success. 
 
 As they were descending the first flight of 
 stairs, the Colonel gently intimated, that Sir 
 William was actually in the house,— was 
 waiting to receive his daughter in the study ! 
 —Viola listened to no more; but with a 
 scream impossible to repress, springing from 
 his hold, she bounded down the remaining 
 stairs, and flinging open the study door, 
 rushed to Sir William's feet, exclaiming in 
 broken accents: *' My father,— my most
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 383 
 
 beloved father!— Oh, take, take me to your 
 heart !'^ Her tears now choaked her utter- 
 ance; those of Sir WiUiam scarcely flowed 
 less copiously : but raising, and with a ten- 
 derness which none but an almost idolizing 
 parent could feel, straining her to his bosom, 
 he faultered out:— *'My own Viola; my 
 souTs delight !-— dearest of created beings! 
 do I live once more to see thy angel face !— 
 to call myself again a father!— Oh, where, 
 where, thou precious reviver of joy in this 
 aged heart ! where is thy noble, thy invalu- 
 able preserver?" 
 
 Fitz Aymer, who from motives of deli- 
 cacy had stood during the first agitation 
 of their meeting, respectfully aloof, no\^ 
 gratefully sprung forward, and was received 
 by Sir William with expanded arms, and 
 folded in the same embrace with Viola: 
 *' My children !" cried the venerable parent, 
 '' be ye blessed forever in each other's love! 
 No greater felicity can Heaven in its utmost 
 bounty impart to me, than that of witness- 
 ing your mutual and well-earned happiness 1 
 Fitz Aymer, admit me as a father — as a 
 friend, to your generous heart I— I have 
 learned, 1 hope not too late, to estimate its
 
 384 TALES OF FANCY, 
 
 real worth,— to deplore my past injustice! 
 — You are now the son of my proudest 
 choice; and had I, in testimony of my full 
 approbation of your union, the whole wealth 
 of that land 1 so lately quitted, to accumu- 
 late upon your head, joyfully should it ac- 
 company the gift of this beloved creature's 
 hand!" 
 
 Melted by so much kindness, the feel- 
 ings of Fitz Aymer betrayed themselves in 
 his glistening eyes, whilst warmly return- 
 ing the pressure of Sir William's hand, he 
 said : " The only addition you could make, 
 dearest Sir, to the obligation of coiiferring 
 upon me such a prize, would be that of has- 
 tening the moment when I may indeed call 
 her my own, — ^my wedded Viola !" 
 
 Sir William gently smiled, and looking 
 at his blushing daughter, said ; " Plead 
 your cause here, Fitz Aymer, — and tell 
 this darling of both our hearts, that from 
 me you have no reason to apprehend the 
 delay even of an hour in the accomplish- 
 irent of your union, after the arrangement 
 has been completed of those legal disposi- 
 tions of property, without attending to 
 which no human being — insecure as is bu-
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. S8i 
 
 tnan existence— ought to approach the al- 
 tar.— But, my children/' he added, leading 
 them towards a sofa, and seating: himself 
 between them, " ere we talk of the future, 
 let me more fully enjoy the present : let me 
 gaze at this dear Viola, whom I left a mere 
 child, and now, with the same aitlessness 
 of countenance, find transformed into an 
 intelligent, and — may I say it, Fitz Aymer ? 
 —attractive young woman.— Let me hear 
 from your own lips the detailed account of 
 what you have undergone ; nothing, to one 
 go interested in your fate, can he too mi- 
 nute,— notliing, to ears so long disused to 
 the music of any voice they loved, can be 
 unimportt^nt in which you are implicated. 
 — 1 had calculated upon a remnant of life 
 so cheerless and so desolate, that now, 
 merely to look upon,— to hear, two beings 
 whose tenderness I feel assured will sooth 
 my passage to the grave,— -whose kindness 
 will give interest to every hour of my pro- 
 longed existence, is happiness aUiiost too 
 great to be borne !' 
 
 Viola, deeply touched, threw herself upon 
 his bosom, exciaiming— '- And is this the 
 parent-— the dear indulgent parent, I iiuve 
 s
 
 3^6 TALES OP FANCY. 
 
 been so causelessly apprehensive, though 
 so solicitous, to meet ?— How gentle, how 
 re-assuring is every word he utters !'— Oh, 
 tVhat arrears of gratitude must I not pay 
 you, my loved father, to make reparation 
 for my unnatural distrust!'^ 
 
 A lon^- and circumstantial conversation 
 now ensued, painfoi in many of its details 
 both to the speakers and hearer, but most 
 desirable for the full elucidation to Sir Wil- 
 jiam, of every occurrence which, in the 
 eventful period of their separation, had be- 
 fallen his lamented wife, and long-despaired- 
 of daughter. In that daughter's presence 
 he, at length, though with extreme emo- 
 tion, ventured to open Lady Earlingford's 
 letter.— 'Its perusal was in no respect less 
 trying to his feelings than Colonel Beau- 
 champ had anticipated ; yet, considering it 
 as a sacred duty not to shrink from the task. 
 Sir William overcame his agitation suffi- 
 ciently to go thruiigh it with the solemn 
 (ieliherati>)n it merited; and found his best 
 support and consolation during the melan- 
 choly elTbit in dwell ng upon the high 
 testimony which, at so awful a wonient, hif* 
 Wife i]ad borne to the virtues and honour of
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. SS? 
 
 !Fitz Aymer. Div€Sted wholly of the pre- 
 judices which had once bhnded him to all 
 but Fitz Aymer's indiscretions, he now^-— 
 in reverting to the sweeping conclusions 
 which, with such want of liberality he had 
 formerly drawn against him,— traced and 
 adored that supreintending Power, which 
 through paths thorny, indeed, but sure, had 
 guided the noble-mmded young man to the 
 heart of his most determined enemy,— -to 
 the attainment of unmixed esteem, and al- 
 iiiost boundless admiration. 
 
 Hours, which appeared but minutes, were 
 ^ent in these recapitulations, and in the 
 comments to which they gave rise, ---and 
 still Sir William's attention was unwearied 
 —-still something remained to be asked and. 
 answered. Tlie Colonel, however, who had 
 long resigned to them the undisturbed pos- 
 session of his room, judging, as the dinner 
 hour approached, that his discretion had 
 been exercised sufficiently, ventured to 
 appear amongst theBi with a message from 
 his sister, requesting that they would all ac- 
 com{)ai)y him into the eating parlour. Sur- 
 prised to hear that tiie day was so far ad- 
 vanced, Sir VV^illiam immediately arose, and. 
 s2
 
 SSS TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 thanking the hospitable Beauchamp, ex- 
 pressed much concern at being obhged to 
 decline the invitation: " But you remem- 
 ber, my friend," continued he, " what I 
 told you at breakfast respecting the appoint- 
 ment I had made for this evening with Mr. 
 Melbourne: I must not be so self-indulgent 
 as to remain here, and suffer himj punctual 
 as I know he will be, to keep his engage- 
 ment in vain. He will probably be with 
 me as soon as I have dined. When he de- 
 parts, I shall send the carriage, my Viola, 
 to bring you to that paternal mansion which 
 your presence will once more so sweetto. 
 gladden, and which you must now only 
 quit to be installed, as its mistress, in the 
 house of your excellent Fitz Aymer. — 
 Meanwhile/' concluded the Baronet, " I 
 invite both gentlemen present, toaccompany 
 you, and conclude this happy day at my 
 habitation ; and if Mrs. Villiers can be pre- 
 vailed upon to join the party, assure her 
 that 1 shall be truly sensible of the favour 
 she confers upon us.'* 
 
 " We have been to that lady," said Viola, 
 *' such remiss and unprofitable guests, that 
 1 shall be almost ashamed to see her."
 
 THE SHIPWRECt. SS9 
 
 *^ She is now," cried her brother, '* fully 
 acquainted with the causes of your seclu- 
 sion this morning, and feels too much satis- 
 faction at their happy removal, to entertain 
 any other wish than that of congratulating 
 and embracing you. But, Fitz Aymer,'* 
 continued the worthy Soldier, smihng with 
 a significance somewhat provoking, '•'^ how 
 do you bear the information, that Sir Wil- 
 liam has made so questionable an appoint- 
 ment with the formidable Mr. Melbourne ? 
 —Do none of your late qualms return upon 
 you ? Do you think yourself quite as secure 
 of installing the fair Viola in the residence 
 of your forefathers, as when ignorant that 
 so alarming a conference was impending?*' 
 
 Fitz Aymer smiled, and looking grate- 
 fully at the baronet, answered with modest 
 confidence : "Yes, my dear Colonel, quite/ 
 The word of Sir William Earlingford once 
 passed, must be irrevocable ;— it is a bond 
 that I would not exchange for any security 
 which the united legal authorities of Eu- 
 rope could give me ; and 1 repose my hopes 
 upon it, with a firmness of reliance that no- 
 thing can shake !'^ 
 
 Sir William, pleased at his warmth, held 
 s 3
 
 590 T.^LES OF FANCY. 
 
 out his hand to him ; whilst the CoIoneJ^ 
 still bent upon discovering how the baronet 
 was prepared to disengage himself honour- 
 «jbly from the promise which it was under- 
 siood he had formerly oiven to Mr. Mel- 
 bourne, said, still addressing Fitz Aymer : 
 " But^ my good fellow, if, being once en- 
 i;^aged. Sir William, according to your notion, 
 is alxcays engaged, what becomes of the con- 
 tract which he was said to have entered into 
 tv'ith Melbourne, previous to the embarka- 
 tion of our Viola for India?" 
 
 " It was, at most, a conditional contract,^' 
 resumed Sir William : *' this deargir! may 
 be well assured that her hand would never 
 liave been compulsively bestowed. Had 
 she approved Melbourne's person and man- 
 ners, it w^ould, at that time, have been a 
 considerable satisfaction to me to have seen 
 her united to him. I owed him the besi 
 compensation in my power for an exertion 
 of arbitrary authority which had produced, 
 both to himself and others, so much wretch- 
 edness, that I shall ever consider it as one 
 of the most reprehensible parts of my con- 
 duct at any period of life. The recompense, 
 however,'^ added he, smiling, " as well for
 
 I'HE SHIPWRECri. 391 
 
 that act of tyranins as for my present breach 
 of en^^agement, is now, T trust, in my gift* 
 The lady I once thought him too poor to 
 marry, and harshly disposed of to another, 
 is again unfettered, and may again be in- 
 duced to hsten to I] is vows. My niece 
 Melross was his first love, and — is now a 
 widow/' 
 
 Scarcely could Fitz Aymer himself hear 
 with more pleasure this confirmation that 
 every obstacle arising from Sir William's 
 past covenant with Mr. Melbourne was at 
 an end, than Viola experienced on learning 
 that Mrs. Melross, though no longer a wife, 
 was again destined, probably, soon to be- 
 come such. It is not in nature, that a wo- 
 man much in love, should anticipate with- 
 out terror, the renewed intercourse of the 
 man to whom she has given her heart, with 
 one of her own sex who has shewn him a 
 manifest degree of preference. Had Ma- 
 tilda Melross, after the death of her hus- 
 band, continued single, and retained her 
 past facilities of communication with Fitz 
 Aymer, Viola, with all her candour — 
 with all her confidence in the sincerity of 
 his affection, felt nearly certain that she 
 s 4
 
 S92 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 should, at least occasionalh', have been 
 truly miserable. 
 
 When Sir William paused, Beauchamp, 
 adverting to the singular pertinacity with 
 which Mr. Melbourne during the voyage 
 had often contemplated Viola, in conse- 
 quence, as he asserted, of her resemblance 
 to a lady he had formerly loved, now said, 
 looking scrutinizingly at her: " I begin at 
 last to see that there was some foundation^ 
 for this imputed likeness. There certainly 
 is, between the two cousins, a sort of family 
 similarity of features, which, though not 
 very obvious to common observers, might 
 be very palpable to a lover. How came it, 
 in the name of Cupid ! never to strike you^ 
 Fitz Aymer r^' 
 
 '' Even now that its pretended existence 
 is pointed out to me,'' answered Fitz Aymer, 
 «' 1 cannot perceive the slightest ground for 
 subscribing to its reality. It is not merely 
 in complexion — in the colour of eyes and 
 hair, that Viola and Mrs. Melross differ; 
 but in the character of their countenance- 
 in tone of voice — in gestures — in habitual 
 modes of expression. However," he con- 
 tinued gaily, " if Mr. Melbourne's \Qiy
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. S93 
 
 ostensible admiration of o7ie cousin was 
 only indicative of his unshaken loyalty to 
 the other, 1 hare ample reason to be satis- 
 fied, and no sort of ambition ever to hear it 
 proved, that he distinguished Yiola so emi- . 
 nently in compliment to her own attrac- 
 tions!" 
 
 Reinstated, after so long an absence, in 
 the home of her infancy, the dear abode in 
 which she had tasted from her birth only 
 care and tenderness, Viola's happiness 
 would have known no draw-back, had her 
 mother but survived to partake and witness 
 it. The first sight of the apartment which 
 Lady Earlingford had been wont to in- 
 habit, of the innumerable objects dispersed 
 throughout the house which had been pe- 
 culiarly appropriated to her, and, above all, 
 the picture of her that hung over the draw- 
 ing-room chimney, filled the heart of her 
 lovely descendant, even at this period of 
 joy, with a sadness which, though she strove 
 to hide, it was impossible not to feel. By 
 degrees, however, her sorrow mellowed 
 into gentle reverence for the memory, and 
 unfading gratitude for the kindness of this 
 lost maternal friend ; and the love and at-.
 
 ^9^ TALES OF FAKCY. 
 
 tenlion which, when Lady Earlingford \\ve(U 
 Yloh had divided between her parents, she 
 now transferred wholly to her venerable fa- 
 ther. 
 
 The delay recommended by Sir William, 
 for the purpose of making settlements^ post- 
 poned the marriage of his daughter only 
 long enough to heighten, at the hour of its 
 celebration, the felicity of Fitz Aymer, by 
 the arrival in England of his brother in time 
 to be present at the ceremony. That bro- 
 ther, in whom she found all the manly and 
 estimable qualities which she had been 
 taught to expect, soon gained in the heart 
 of his new sister as distinguished a place as 
 Fitz Aymer had often foretold his merit 
 could not fail to ensure. At the end of 
 Bome weeks he joined the bride and bride- 
 groom in the country ; and with Sir William 
 Earlingford — ever the most loved and re- 
 vered of their guests — and the friendly Co- 
 lonel Beauchamp, spent with them nearly 
 the whole ensuing winter. 
 
 Mrs. Melross, a few months after the 
 marriage of Viola, gave her hand to Mr. 
 Melbourne, and with it, restored to him 
 that affection the early disappointment o^
 
 THE SHIPWRECK, 393 
 
 which had so materially tended to produce 
 whatever was suhsequently wrong in her 
 conduct and feelings. Forcibly separated, 
 before she was twenty, from a man possess- 
 ed of her whole heart, and united fiom mo- 
 tives of interest, to one whom she never 
 could do more than coldly esteem, she 
 wanted dignity of mind to submit with 
 steady courage to her fate, and principle to 
 discern the aggravated misery she would 
 incur, in attempting by guilty means to im- 
 prove it. Her passion for Fitz Aymer had 
 been more the offspring of exaggerated gra- 
 titude, and a romantic imagination, than 
 either of vice, or genuine sensibility. She 
 called herself wretched in being the wife of 
 Mr. Melross : the object of her first attach- 
 ment was far away ; she grew impatient of 
 the void left in her heart; and imprudently 
 incurring obligations from a generous, spi- 
 rited, but thoughtless young man, who, she 
 concluded, must have been actuated in con- 
 ferring them by love, was so unhappily 
 misguided by that pernicious enthusiasm, 
 which, if not criminal in itself, so often, by 
 the systematic contempt of public opinion 
 which it encQura8:es^ leads to criminality,
 
 S96 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 as to resolve upon throwing herself, unso^ 
 licited, under his protection. When saved 
 from the perpetration of this irremediably 
 disgraceful step, and led back to the house 
 of her husband, she owed her subsequent 
 respectability in the eyes of the world, and 
 the clear perception to herself of the folly 
 of her conduct, to the countenance she re- 
 ceived from, and the mild admonitions of. 
 Lady Earlingford. Mr. Melross never knew 
 her temporary defection from duty : heF 
 uncle, stung by self-reproach for having, at« 
 so early an age, sacrificed her at the shrine 
 of w^ealth, — forgave it ; and, naturally more 
 disposed to good than evil, she learned to 
 bend to necessity, to accommodate her spi- 
 rit to her circumstances, and during the 
 two years that preceded her husband's death, 
 conducted herself, as she had invariably 
 done since, with the strictest propriety. 
 
 Watson, the meritorious companion of 
 the most disastrous period of the solitude 
 of Viola and Fitz Aymer, was invited to 
 follow them to the seat at which they spent 
 the first months of their marriage; and 
 when there, informing them that in his 
 youth he had been accustomed to the em-
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 397 
 
 ployments of a husbandman, he was esta- 
 blished in a small farm, where his only sur- 
 viving daughter, the widow of a labourer, 
 came to reside with him, and assisted in 
 promoting the comfort and happiness of his 
 declining years. 
 
 Though we are not invariably to look for 
 the punishment of the g:uilty in this world, 
 yet, no doubt, it often is made tremen- 
 dously apparent. That of the you u^er 
 Lamotte was as signal as it was expedi- 
 tious. He had not been three days oa 
 board the vessel which conveyed him fromi 
 the island, when, upon some quarrel with 
 one of the Lascars, he received a stab, of 
 which, after great sufferings, he expired jn 
 less than twelve hours. He confessed, ia 
 dying, many of his enormities, to the cap- 
 tain of the ship, and gave every information 
 necessary, as to the real circumstances at- 
 tending ihe disappearance of Watson. In 
 consequence of his deposition, a second ef- 
 fort was made to land upon the island, in 
 hopes of bringing the Seaman off: but the 
 weather was so bad, and the approach to 
 the coast in almost every point, so danger- 
 ous, that it proved unsuccessful, and the 
 design was forced to be abandoned. Watson,
 
 593 TALES OF FANCY. 
 
 thus consigned to his fate, remained igno- 
 rant a considerable time, that any effort had 
 ever been made for his rescue. Being, 
 however, on business some years after, in 
 London, and accidentally meeting: with 
 one of the men who had belonged to the 
 ship, he learned the particulars of their at- 
 tempt and its failure, and the penalty which 
 had overtaken the villainous author of his 
 desertion. The veteran Seaman was kind- 
 hearted, and, generally speaking, placable: 
 but it must be acknowledged, that on 
 Rearing how sp^^edily the sins of Lamotte 
 had been chastised by one of the very in- 
 struments he had employed in perpetrating 
 his most flri^^Jtious act — he rubbed his hands 
 with something approaching to exultation ; 
 and afterwards, in relating the affair to Fitz 
 Aymer, said: '' I hope there's no great 
 harm, your Honour, in thinking, that suice 
 there was no way of getting at the fellow to 
 hang him here lawfully upon British ground, 
 the Lascar did a special service to the 
 world, by ridding it, at the risk of his own 
 soul, of so infernal a pest! He cannot be 
 so bad as tlie ruffian lie murdered— so I 
 hope he will find OiCrcv 1" 
 
 Fitz Aymer h mself had prognosticated
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 399 
 
 rightly, when, in the island, he had told 
 Lady Earlingtord, that the lessons he was 
 receiving from adversity would not be 
 thrown away upon him. In all respects, 
 and throuirhout life, the improvement his 
 character derived from the 'rigid lore' of 
 that 'stern, rugged' moni tress, was emi- 
 nently apparent. Without deducting from 
 his animation, the severe probation through 
 which he had passed had mellowed his 
 temper and opinions; strengthened his 
 principles of religion, and sensibly conduced 
 to awaken his commiseration, and ensure 
 his readiest good offices for all who were 
 unfortunate. — The opportunity likewise 
 which his exile afforded him, of contracting 
 a genuine, disinterested, and virtuous pas- 
 sion, for an object whose purity and inno- 
 cence it had been his deb'ght to contemplate, 
 and his pride to protect, in no small degree 
 contributed to the amelioration of his nature. 
 Encircled by « troops of friends ;' loved, 
 honoured^ and served with joy equal to 
 that he felt in serving others, few lives 
 could be more blessed, more useful, or 
 more precious to all within his influence. 
 
 Difl'erent in many respects were the <?f- 
 fects of misfortune upon his early associate,
 
 400 TALES OF FANCY, 
 
 Frederick Germaine : yet, even to him, it 
 was nor wholly profitless. His generous 
 sister, with the first money placed at her 
 disposal after she became a widow, paid 
 the most pressini^ of his debts, liberated 
 him from confinement, and purchased for 
 him a commission in a regiment imme- 
 diately going abroad. Trms, removing him 
 from his tormer haunts of dissipation, she 
 ga\e him the best chance of retneviuiJ: his 
 injured tharacier, and of benefiuing, by the 
 opportiiiiiiy, of cois tract ujg, amongst new 
 connexions, better propensities aud less 
 irretiular habits. His convivial powers 
 made him as much as ever tne delight of 
 society; but his licentious extravagance no 
 longer rendered him so dangerous a com- 
 panion. He never refined into a really 
 exemplary individual ; but he ceased to be 
 regarded by his family either as a burthen or 
 a disgrace; and if he made no very solid 
 friends, and established no very brilliant 
 reputation, he at least provoked not any 
 rancorous hostility, nor incurred any serious 
 future stigma. 
 
 END OF ^ THE SHIPWRECK.' 
 
 B. Clarke, Printer, Well Street, London.
 
 »