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 http://www.archive.org/details/fitzallan01huis
 
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 ■ aen iie beheld W.^ EtzaUa-um all the fulness of matema: 
 affectroahastenino- tovrards the Carriage."
 
 WIT Z Al^lL AM 
 
 WS A BI.BE 
 
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 She LcmceaVO iierset! in an ;• 
 ■had taken tui deparnirc Kis 
 for afew TEU:"""' ■' -■ > •'•^^ 
 
 UBLISHEU BY THOMAS KEI.LV. PATBRITOST EB. ROW. 
 
 1 a .-5 2 .
 
 v.; 
 
 EXORDIUM. 
 
 
 «^ •* Well ! Robert," said his grandmother, seated in her 
 
 ^* black velveteen arm-chair, and laying down on the table 
 
 -'^ a roll of manuscript, at the same time taking- off her 
 
 spectacles, " I have read this novel of Fitzallan, and I 
 
 much fear that it will not be palateable to some appetites." 
 
 *' Perhaps upon the same principle," said Robert, 
 
 " that few relish the taste of physic." 
 
 *' As to the general view which you take of human 
 
 ''^ nature," said the grandmother, " I will not pretend to 
 
 ^ call into question the truth of your observations, at the 
 
 .. pruae time I cannot but confess that there is sometimes 
 
 o much of the misanthrope in them." 
 
 X ** It has been my fate," said Robert, "through a life 
 
 "=• distinguished by extraordinary events, to be thrown into 
 
 ^; the society of a peculiar class of individuals, as well as to 
 
 have enjoyed frequent opportunities of observing others, 
 
 Avhen the innate character of the man displayed itself, as 
 
 ,Jt were, against his will, with all its deformities and its 
 
 .^'deficiencies: and upon the same principle that a painter 
 
 would be justly accused of drawing a false likeness, if he 
 
 -omitted the personal defectb of the object before him, so 
 
 ^ VOL. I. B
 
 Z EXORDIUM. 
 
 I, as a delineator of human character, would justly subject 
 myself to the charg-e of ignorance or weakness of pene- 
 tration, if I omitted to catch any of those darker shades 
 which abound more or less in every human being." 
 
 "But according to your delineation," said the grand- 
 mother, *' those dark shades so predominate as utterly to 
 obscure all the bright ones, thereby imparting to the whole 
 group a gloomy and repellent character apparently at 
 variance with nature." 
 
 " There in one particular point," said Robert, ** you 
 are begging the question, for it is supposing that those 
 bright shades exist at all ; I hesitate not to affirm that 
 some characters have come under my observation, in 
 which there appeared to be a positive absence of all moral 
 worth, and a direct negation of any of those amiable qua- 
 lities, which constitute the charities of human life, and 
 which are considered as the basis of mutual endearment. 
 Individually speaking, I disavow all connexion with that 
 school which pompously teaches the perfectibility of 
 human nature, and which inculcates the gradual eradica- 
 tion of vice as an object attainable by human industry and 
 talent." 
 
 " 1 will not prolong this discussion," said the grand- 
 mother, *' but is it not rather a singular portrait which 
 you draw, of a man of rank despising his dignity, and on 
 every occasion casting a slur upon hereditary titles, as if 
 he were one of the members of the French Chamber of 
 Deputies ?" 
 
 " I acknowledge," said Robert, '* that it is a character 
 rather bordering on the caricature, and one which is very
 
 EXORDIUM. S 
 
 rare in the world, but I affirm that such a character has 
 actually come under my observation, and I pride myself in 
 giving- notoriety to it, especially as the time is fast ap- 
 proaching-, when a man will be estimated according- to his 
 virtues, and to the manner in which he fulfils the different 
 relations of life, and not according to the title which he 
 may have derived from his ancestors, the majority of whom 
 have g-ained it, perhaps, by rapine, violence, and murder." 
 
 " But are you not thereby," said the grandmother, 
 *' breaking down one of the barriers of society, and un- 
 dermining one of the corinthian pillars on which the 
 constitution of the country is founded ?" 
 
 " Granted," said Robert ; " as society is at present con- 
 stituted, I cannot expect to escape the sneers and indig- 
 nation of the sticklers for the pre-eminence of aristocracy ; 
 but I may be allowed as ^ individual the right to question 
 the benefit of it, and by comparing the condition and 
 prosperity of other countries where the title of aristocracy 
 is not known, with that of my own, where it forms an 
 essential branch of the constitution, I am inclined to 
 suspect, that were it eradicated altogether, the country 
 would suffer very little by the change. My own reason 
 tells me that all men are born alike, and if one man by 
 his superior talents or virtues distinguishes himself above 
 his compeers, let him reap the reward of his industry 
 and his integrity; but to maintain the principle, that 
 because the progenitor of a certain man a dozen centuries 
 back was so indulgent as to give up his wife to his mo- 
 narch, and in return to be mounted on the stilts of nobility, 
 by virtue of which all his successors are to be invested 
 B 2
 
 4 EXORDIUxM. 
 
 with the same dig-nity, and to enjoy powers and privileges 
 above the honourable plebeian, is, in my eyes, bordering 
 strong-ly on the ridiculous and the absurd. The descendant* 
 of Nell Gwynne, a common actress, and of Dolly Jordan, 
 also a common actress, and one of his majesti/s servants, 
 are now, on account of the attachment of those Messalinas 
 to royalty, or the attachment of royalty to them, seated in 
 the highest legislative assembly of the nation, on the same 
 bench with the representatives of a Howard, a Percy, a 
 Marlborough, and a Nelson, at the same time that the 
 country is not indebted to any of the offspring of Gwynne 
 or Jordan for one great, one useful, or one patriotic 
 action ; on the contrary, a portion of the hard earnings of 
 the labouring classes is wrung from them by the legalized 
 robber, the tax-gatherer, for the splendid maintenance of 
 royal illegitimacy. The principle of /orf?5 creanturfor- 
 tihus has not an inch of tenable ground to stand upon, on 
 the contrary, history flatly contradicts it : the daughter of 
 Addison was an imbecile, and the bastard brood of Riche- 
 lieu, that scourge of Hanover, could be scarcely made to 
 comprehend the difference between an adjective and a 
 substantive. According to the present constitution of 
 things, a man jumps unexpectedly into a title, or the title 
 suddenly jumps upon him, without any previous prepara- 
 tion or education for the change, and not knowing how to 
 deport himself under his newly-acquired honours, he looks 
 like the chimney-sweeper on May-day, decked out in. all 
 his borrowed tinseled finery, but under the disguise are still 
 distinctly seen the real occupation and character of the in- 
 dividual. I might, perhaps, be brought to endure thispb.'-
 
 EXORDIUM. 5 
 
 tion of the farce, and to smother my contempt accordingly ; 
 but when I behold one of these funguses of nobility be- 
 coming on a sudden one of the legislators of the kingdom, 
 ignorant as a cockchafer of even the first principles of 
 political knowledge, and scarcely able to define the differ- 
 ence between a monarchy and a republic, my reason then 
 tells me, that hereditary rank, with its vested privileges, 
 cannot be conducive to the interests of a state ; and that 
 it is one of those excrescences on the body politic of a 
 nation which ought to be lopped off." 
 
 ** With these ideas operating on your mind," said the 
 grandmother, " I am not in the least surprised at the 
 sentiments which you have put into the mouth of one of 
 your characters ; but I wish you had been more indulgent 
 on another subject, and that is sectarianism." 
 
 ** Of all subjects," said Robert, " the most fit for the 
 lash of the satirist. The Spiritual Quixote, on account of 
 the strong vein of its satirical humour, conti-ibuted more 
 to check the progress of Methodism than if a St. Bartho- 
 lomew massacre had been raised up against it. I consider, 
 however, that every man has a right to choose his own 
 religion, and that no man is amenable to another for the 
 mode of faith which he may choose to adopt ; but when I 
 see sectarianism the cause of family dissentions, and the 
 destruction, .as far as its influence can extend, of the hap- 
 piness of social life, my feelings revolt against it ; and it 
 then appears to me, that instead of religion becoming a 
 blessing, it wears, comparatively speaking, the aspect of 
 being a decided evil."
 
 b EXORDIUM. 
 
 " Can that ever be an evil," asked tlie grandmother, 
 "which in its nature is divine and beautiful?" 
 
 ** By perversion and abuse," answered Robert, " there 
 is not any thing-, although naturally good, which cannot 
 degenerate into an evil. The Christian religion, in its 
 primitive nature, is simply beautiful and grand ; but it has 
 been so disfigured by the different misconstructions which 
 fanaticism and superstition have put upon it, that its ori- 
 ginal character is lost ; and instead of " peace on earth 
 and goodwill towards man" being the visible result of the 
 sublime doctrines of Christ, we behold a crowd of infuriated 
 creatures, with a sword in one hand, and a blazing torch in 
 the other, scouring the earth, and threatening destruction 
 to all who will not hold the same faith as themselves. 
 The thirty years* war in Germany, in which its plains were 
 deluged with blood, was nothing less than a struggle be- 
 tween human reason and the dominant power of an intole- 
 rant Church ; and in our own times of boasted refinement 
 and mental illumination, we observe a spirit of sectarianism 
 pervading all ranks of society; and the degree of excel- 
 lence which appertains to the character of any individual 
 is not estimated so much by the virtuous and faithful 
 manner in which he performs the different relations of 
 life, as by the zeal wiiich he displays in the support of his 
 own peculiar mode of faith. The Mahometan quarrels 
 with his neighbour for beginning his ablutions at the 
 elbow, whilst he begins the ceremony at his fingers : on the 
 same principle the bigoted Christian passes by his fellow- 
 Christian with the scowl of scorn and contempt, because
 
 EXORDIUM. i 
 
 he does not consider him one of the elect, or tliat he 
 presumes so far to consult his own reason as to deny that 
 one is three and three is one. Let us suppose, by way ot 
 illustration, a missionary of the Catholics and a missionary 
 of the Calvinists meeting- on the shores of New Zealand, 
 with the same intent of preaching the truth and divine 
 origin of the Christian religion to the benighted heathen : 
 the former preaches that a bit of paste and a little wine, 
 consecrated by the priest mumbling a few words over 
 them, become immediately an actual part of the body and 
 blood of the Divine Founder of the religion ; the Calvinist, 
 however, steps in, and says, "that it is no such thing ; the 
 Catholic has told you a falsehood ; for you must believe 
 me, when I tell you that the bread and wine are merely 
 typical, and ar£ meant solely to represent the body and 
 blood of Christ; and, consequently, that the Catholic 
 doctrine of tran substantiation is manifestly false." Here 
 then are two individuals preaching the same religion, and 
 both differing in one of the essential principles of it. What 
 is the heathen, in his darkness, to make of this ? But it is 
 similarly constituted with the sectarian pride of this, 
 country. The beautiful simplicity of the Christian reli- 
 gi(m is disfigured, and, in some instances, wholly effaced 
 by the unrighteous endeavours of certain fanatics to esta- 
 blish a system of their own, pretended to be founded on 
 their own ignorant construction of isolated passages of the 
 Scriptures ; and then, as Pope powerfully says, they 
 
 Deal damnation round the land. 
 On each they judge their ioe. 
 
 An Irving has brought the Pentecost again upon the
 
 8 EXORDIUM. 
 
 earth ; let the idiot continue his ravings and his rantings ; 
 but on such a fanatic the lash of the satirist cannot be 
 applied too severely, at the same time that the philan- 
 thropic philosopher deplores that he lives in an era, when 
 human reason is chained to the Juggernaut car of super- 
 stition and bigotry. 
 
 **But," said Robert, unrolling a part of the manuscript, 
 and referring to a particular page, " setting aristocracy 
 and sectarianism aside, I did expect to be visited with 
 your reprehension for the severity with which I speak of 
 the crabbedness and acerbity of age, on passing its judg- 
 ment on the follies and indiscretions of youth. It appears 
 to me, that with some individuals, in proportion to the in- 
 capacity for the enjoyment of happiness the aversion 
 increases to see it enjoyed by others. I know not a more 
 exhilarating sight than to behold the grey locks of age 
 shaking with laughter at juvenile playfulness : it is the 
 parting light of a western sun beaming o'er a scene of bliss, 
 beautifully bright for the moment, then gradually dying 
 away in softness and in silence. It comes upon us like 
 the echo of a voice that ouce was dear to us in other years, 
 and we linger on its last accents, as bringing before ua 
 again those scenes in which we were most happy. Is not 
 contented old age a pleasing sight ? ' asked Robert 
 His grandmother was asleep.
 
 FITZALLAN. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 It's no in titles, nor in rank, 
 
 It's no in wealth like Lunnun bank, 
 
 To purchase peace and rest ; 
 It's no in making muckle mair, 
 It's no in books, it's no in lear, 
 
 To make us truly blest. 
 If happiness hae not her seat 
 
 And centre in the breast, 
 We may be wise, or rich, or great, 
 
 But never can be blest. Burns. 
 
 Hector Fitzallan was the only son of a lady who 
 pursued a retired and monastic course of life, on an 
 estate at a small distance from the town of N. on 
 the borders of Scotland. We forbear from pruden- 
 tial motives to mention the name of the town, in 
 order that we may not subject ourselves to the charge 
 of personalities ; but we will go so far as to pro-
 
 10 FITZALLAN. 
 
 iioimce it to be in a part of the country, where all 
 the imps of calumny have from time immemorial 
 been known to cong-regate, and where the natives are 
 far better versed in the affairs of other people than 
 in their own — a case by no means rare wherever the 
 human biped has domiciliated himself. The first 
 appearance of this lady in the country had been 
 attended by some very mysterious circumstances, 
 and notwithstanding the curiosity of the surrounding 
 neighbours, and especially of the elder branches of 
 the female part of the community, no information 
 whatever could be obtained of her former relations 
 in life. As usual, conjecture was heaped upon con- 
 jecture, and, as is still more usually the case, every 
 conjecture turned out to be false. Nevertheless, 
 however, she was importuned by a multitude of 
 questions, some of which w^re put to her in the most 
 artful manner, and others under the guise of confiden- 
 tial intercourse, or an apparent wish to render her 
 some essential service : still all was in vain ; she 
 did not seem disposed to give the slightest clue to 
 the mystery which evidently enveloped all her proceed- 
 ings, and the more she was goaded and tormented, 
 the more she retired, like the snail, deeper within 
 her shell. Of the past, she appeared to possess 
 scarcely any recollection ; and, indeed, she informed 
 some of the most officious inquirers, that she had 
 been drinking the waters of Lethe, and therefore any 
 reminiscence of the past could be scarcely expected 
 from her. This information was, however, wisely 
 considered as some clue to her former history, and 
 every map that could be procured was consulted to
 
 FITZALLAN. 11 
 
 find out the geographical situation of Lethe, which 
 in the profundity of their learning they supposed to 
 be some fashionable watering place ; but the town 
 of Lethe was not to be discovered, and therefore, 
 according to their unanimous judgment, the lady 
 had evidently imposed upon them with a fiction. In 
 this emergency they applied to the minister of the 
 parish, who informed them that Lethe, according to 
 the ancient mythology, was one of the rive^-s of 
 Hell, but this was literally an infernal puzzler : it 
 made confusion worse confounded, for could it for a 
 single moment be credited, that the lady had actually 
 arrived from the kingdom of the Devil, to introduce 
 some of the fashions of that place amongst them, and 
 to contaminate them by its multitudinous vices ? The 
 very idea afflicted them all with a kind of St. Vitus's 
 dance of abhorrence, and it was unanimously agreed, 
 that under such circumstances, it were certainly 
 most advisable to shun her society altogether ; but, 
 on the other hand, it was as unanimously agreed, 
 that her opulence, her high display of fashion, her 
 routs, her petit soupers, were matters which were not 
 to be slightly looked over, considering that they 
 counterbalanced a number of other little disagree- 
 ables, which their fastidiousness or prudery might 
 have invented ; and who that has taken a passing 
 glance at the moving panorama of human life can 
 doubt for a moment, that the society of an individual 
 possessing such worldly benefits, even supposing that 
 she deserved to be placed at the head of the titled 
 demireps of the age, would not be courted with the 
 same obseijuiousncss and servility as are evinced by
 
 12 FITZALLAN. 
 
 the humble aspirant for a place, when standing in the 
 presence of his haughty patron? It muet, however, 
 be admitted, that in the little coteries which assembled 
 in her own house, and which also assembled in the 
 houses of others, not one of those who were present 
 could on the following morning boast of having 
 extracted from her a single incident of her previous 
 condition of life. 
 
 By the neighbouring peasants she was charac- 
 terised as a most eccentric woman ; by which it must 
 be understood, that she ventured to deviate from 
 the staid and formal routine of action of ordinary 
 people, which, in other words, is saying, that she 
 possessed a mind which dared to think for itself, 
 without binding itself to the conceits and opinions 
 of others : and as evidently some mystery was at- 
 tached to her, it is not to be wondered at that, in 
 the restricted circle in which she moved, all her 
 acquaintance were knocking their heads together to 
 find out who and what she was, and what possible 
 reason could have induced a lady of her apparent 
 fortune and pretensions to seclude herself from the 
 notice of the world, and all the gratifications and 
 amusements which that world could grant. That 
 she had descended from the moon, or that she had 
 ascended from the waters of Lethe, was by all 
 deemed a most improbable case ; but that she had 
 fallen amongst them in a most extraordinary manner 
 was agreed to by all without a dissentient voice. 
 It was also acknowledged that she exhibited a very 
 high degree of refinement of manners, and that she 
 still shone in all the glowing colours of youthful
 
 FITZALLAN. 13 
 
 beauty ; which circumstance in itself was creative of 
 surprise, for, judging by themselves, they knew that 
 female beauty very seldom loves to conceal itself, but 
 that, on the contrary, it generally seizes on every 
 possible occasion of effecting its fullest display, no 
 matter under what circumstances that display is to be 
 made. The general strain of her conversation was 
 edifying in the highest degree, and there was that 
 general condescension and politeness about her, 
 which so strikingly distinguish those who have been 
 bred in the higher circles ; she appeared also to be 
 thoroughly skilled in that art so difficult to acquire, 
 and which may be called one of the fundamentals of 
 true politeness, namely, that of raising those whom 
 she knew to be beneath her, to a level with herself. 
 It did not, however, escape observation, that the cheer- 
 fulness which distinguished her, appeared to be more 
 the result of complete self-possession, and a direct 
 control over her feelings, than the immediate effusions 
 of a heart naturally prone to gaiety and mirth ; and 
 it was also remarked by some who pretended to 
 surpass others in penetration, that the shade of a 
 secret melancholy appeared at times to be spread 
 over her beautiful countenance, and that if on such 
 occasions some intrusive and curious gossip inquired 
 of her why she appeared so dejected and low-spirited, 
 she seemed on a sudden to rouse herself as if from 
 a dream, and by a forced hilarity to convince the 
 officious inquirer that she was labouring under a 
 mistake. 
 
 She had not long resided in the country before 
 some very eligible proposals of marriage were made
 
 14 FITZALLAN. 
 
 to her, as on her arrival in it, she had so far conde- 
 scended to satisfy the curiosity of her neighbours, as 
 to inform them that she was a widow, her husband 
 having been drowned on his passage to America. 
 She, however, pertinaciously refused every offer, 
 with the assertion, that she could never resolve to 
 bestow her hand upon another, as at the departure 
 of her husband she had solemnly promised him, in 
 the event of his death, never to marry again, but to 
 live entirely for the education and protection of their 
 only son. She further declared, that she was fully 
 convinced that she never could expect to enjoy that 
 degree of happiness with a second husband, which 
 she had enjoyed with the first. " I have my particular 
 whims," she would say ; *' I love my liberty, I feel 
 myself now in a state of happy independence, and I 
 am resolved to devote the remainder of my life to the 
 education of my son." 
 
 There was, however, one particular circumstance 
 amongst the- many others that had excited the atten- 
 tion of her neighbours ; and this was, that the rental 
 hf the estate on which she lived was by no means 
 'adequate to defray the expense of her establishment, 
 and consequently she must have other resources at 
 command of no inconsiderable amount. The furni- 
 ture of her house was splendid ; her establishment in 
 regard to servants was numerous ; indeed, far more 
 numerous than coincided with the opinion of the 
 gossips, on the score of utility and prudence. Her 
 display of plate amounted to profusion ; and several 
 persons professing to know something of the ridi- 
 culous science of heraldry, that is, if such balderdash
 
 FiTZALLAN. '^'^'^ 15 
 
 be worthy of the name of a science, studied most 
 minutely the quarterings of her escutcheon, with the 
 hope of discovering' some noble families to which she 
 might be allied : but in one of the quarters stood the 
 black spread eagle of Austria and Russia ; and could 
 it be supposed that she was related to either of those 
 imperial houses ? There were also three dragons in 
 one quartering, and three mermaids in another ; but 
 what other information could be extracted from these 
 non-descripts than that heraldry teems with monsters, 
 which are only created to tickle the vanity of fools and 
 to frighten children ? From this quarter, and from 
 these quarterings, therefore, no clue could be obtained 
 to her progenitors, nor to her own condition in life. 
 She appeared to be exceedingly partial to horticul- 
 ture, and large sums of money were known to be 
 expended in the purchase of rare exotics, and the cul- 
 ture of the choicest fruits. Here presented itself 
 another field for the ingenuity of her neighbours, for 
 they attempted to calculate to a fracfpn the sum 
 which each pine that was cut in her hothouse must 
 cost her; and some carried their arithmetical calci 
 lations to such a clever nicety, as to determine, •/ 
 she cut an apple into quarters, how much each 
 quarter stood her in before she ventured to partake 
 of it. 
 
 Her mode of dress was what might be strictly 
 styled fashionable, combined with an unusual display 
 of taste and elegance, and therefore those who could 
 not compete with her in those particulars, in the 
 plenitude of their envy turned up their noses ; and 
 the important discovery was tlien made, and bruited
 
 16 ^ FITZALLAN. 
 
 at the tea-tables, tliat she could be nothing more nor 
 less than the cast-off mistress of some opulent liber- 
 tine, who, being surfeited with her charms, had sent 
 her about her business with a handsome annual 
 pension for her iniquity. 
 
 It was also a matter of wonder — but what is there 
 that is not a matter of wonder if people be deter- 
 mined to make it so ? — that every year she absented 
 herself from her estate for about a month, but whi- 
 ther she went, they were as ignorant of, as they were 
 of the winter domicile of the swallow which was 
 then skimming over their heads. During this tem- 
 porary absence the affairs of her household were 
 managed by a steward, to whom, immediately after 
 the departure of his mistress, a regular siege was 
 laid, with the view of obtaining some information of 
 the leading circumstances of his mistress's life ; but 
 the grey-headed seneschal either did not, or would 
 not know any thing about them ; and all that could 
 be extracted from him was, " Perhaps it is so," or, 
 " It may be so ;" but they never could succeed in 
 obtaining from him either a positive negative or 
 affirmative. Not so, however, the worthy and trusty 
 spouse of the steward. In the absence of her mis- 
 tress, the good woman, as she supposed out of pure 
 esteem for the excellence of her character and the 
 respectability of her station, and for no other motive 
 whatsoever, was frequently invited to partake of a 
 cup of tea with Mrs. Tomkins or Mrs. Hipkins, an 
 act of great condescension on the part of the inviters. 
 But to what depth of meanness will not certain per- 
 sons stoop to gratify an idle and a culpable curiosity"
 
 riTZ ALLAN. 17 
 
 From this garrulous dame the information was ob- 
 tained, that her mistress, in regard to the fulfilment 
 of every moral duty, might be selected as a pattern 
 for her sex ; to the poor her purse was ever open, 
 and to the sick she never refused relief; her son 
 appeared to be the only object whom she loved on 
 earth, and her whole mind appeared to be directed 
 to the promotion of his happiness. " Many times,'* 
 continued the communicative servant, " when I have 
 entered her apartment to consult her on domestic 
 atfairs, I have found her on her knees, and she 
 would then rise suddenly up, and wipe the tears from 
 her eyes. Sometimes I have found her door closed ; 
 and then, in a broken voice, as if she had been over- 
 whelmed in grief, she would bid me come again to 
 her in an hour. About every three months she takes 
 a journey ; and always on her arrival at the town of 
 
 D a nobleman's carriage is in waiting for her, 
 
 in which she immediately continues her journey, and 
 is brouijht back in the same carriaffe on the fbllow- 
 ing day. She often stands, as if lost in thought, 
 before a painting which hangs in her boudoir, which 
 represents a young and handsome man, and which 
 we consider to be the likeness of her deceased hus- 
 band. She leads in general the complete life of a 
 recluse, chiefly occupying herself with her son, whom, 
 we believe, it is her intention to dedicate to the 
 Church ; her reading is chiefly confined to elementary 
 books and to treatises on practical devotion. At 
 nine in the evening sne always repairs to her private 
 apartment, and we are then peremptorily interdicted 
 from giving her the slightest interruption ; we have, 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 18 FITZALLAN. 
 
 however, known her never to retire to bed ckiring the 
 whole of the night, but to sit by the bedside of her 
 son, as if it were an object from which she could not 
 tear herself" 
 
 That here were materials sufficient to feed the curio- 
 sity of the hearers cannot admit of a doubt : each 
 construed them according to their own enlightened or 
 depraved mode of thinking ; some saw lurking beneath 
 them a crime that dare not be revealed, whilst others 
 saw a hypocritical display of virtue, which the guilty 
 often assume to conceal from common observation 
 the full extent of their black delinquency. One 
 general conclusion was, however, arrived at ; which 
 was, that if they were in ignorance of the affairs of 
 Mrs. Fitzallan previously to the communication of 
 the steward's wife, they were not much the wiser at 
 the termination of it. 
 
 On Hector Fitzallan attaining his sixth year, his 
 mother provided a tutor for him ; but, with the 
 knowledge of the scandalizing spirit of the world, 
 she selected for that purpose not only an elderly 
 man, of rather a grave and saturnine disposition, 
 but also one whose exterior was by no means 
 calculated to instil into the female breast any other 
 sentiments than those of respect and esteem ; for of 
 personal beauty, the Rev. Mr. Bode, the name of the 
 tutor, was as deficient as one of the idols of the 
 Sandwich islanders. He was, however, in his in- 
 trinsic character, a diamond in the rough ; the exterior 
 t^ncrustation was rather unpleasant to the sight, but, 
 internally, shone the splendour and brilliancy of the 
 gem. It was, however, only in the higher depart-
 
 FI'IZALLAN. 19 
 
 ments of learning; that the talents of Mr. Bode were 
 to be exercised, as in the inferior branches the task of 
 education was entirely executed by Mrs. Fitzallan 
 herself. 
 
 " Well," said Mrs. Fitzallan one day to Mr. Bode, 
 who had now been the instructor of her son for about 
 a year, " do you find that my son possesses any 
 natural talents for the higher branches of learning?" 
 
 " I consider," answered Mr. Bode, " that Hector is 
 a youth from whom much may be expected ; and I am 
 convinced that he will one day be an honour to his 
 mother ; but will you allow me to ask, to what 
 particular profession you mean to devote your son ?" 
 
 *' I consider," said Mrs. Fitzallan, '* that every 
 individual should have the privilege of choosing his 
 own pursuit in life, according to the genius which 
 prompts him, and the delight which he experiences 
 in the exercise of it. All force and restraint only 
 tend to the destruction, or at least to a wrong appli- 
 cation of the glorious gifts of nature, which I consi- 
 der to be like a river, that so long as it is allowed to 
 flow in its natural channel, dispenses fertility and 
 plenty, but if once diverted from its track, commits 
 havoc and destruction. There is, however, one con- 
 dition in life in which the most highly-gifted mind 
 can employ itself in a manner productive of the ut- 
 most possible profit and advantage, and in which the 
 heart meets with so many opportunities of amend- 
 ment and improvement. It is to that condition that 
 I mean to devote my son." 
 
 " And may I ask," said Mr. Bode, " what that 
 c 2
 
 20 FiTZALLAN. 
 
 condition is of which you speak in such terms of high 
 eulog-ium ?" 
 
 " It is no other," ansvi^ered Mrs. Fitzallan, " tha**! 
 that of a member of the Church of Christ." 
 
 Mr. Bode was rather surprised at this resohition 
 of the lady. It was incomprehensible to him how a 
 mother, whom he considered to be highly affluent, 
 could devote her son to a profession, which, in the 
 eyes of the world, promises to the majority of its 
 members so little splendour and enjoyment; and 
 which, generally speaking, furnishes them with such 
 moderate means of support.* '' I do not consider," 
 he said, " that you would be rendering your son a 
 service by attaching him to a profession, the basis 
 of which is self-denial, and which is otherwise attended 
 with exercises of a most trying character. His pros- 
 pects in life, his talents, his property, justify him in 
 the hope of being one day enabled to play a more 
 distinguished part on the great theatre of the world." 
 
 " How !" exclaimed Mrs. Fitzallan, " can you 
 entertain so degrading an opinion of your own pro- 
 fession ? In my estimation, there is no profession in 
 any state in which so much utiUty, honour, and re- 
 spectability are combined as in that of the profession 
 of a minister. I attach no value to the mere opinion 
 of the world, for much is despised and contemned by 
 
 * The author, be it understood, is here speaking of the situa- 
 tion of things on the borders of Scotland. Matters may be 
 different further southward ; at least, he has reason to believe 
 such to be the case, especially in the vicinity of Durham, York, 
 Winchester, and ("anterhury.
 
 FITZALLAN. 21 
 
 it, which is in reaHty highly deserving of our esteem 
 and approbation ; nor is it any argument with me, that 
 there are many ministers who are a disgrace to the 
 sacred cloth which they wear : the profession in itself 
 still remains invested with the same honour and the 
 same respectability as if those drawbacks did not 
 exist. I cannot picture to myself a more flattering 
 prospect in my future life than that in which I shall 
 see my son a virtuous, moral, and estimable minister 
 of Christ. What opportunities and leisure would he 
 then enjoy of enriching his mind by the acquisition 
 of useful knowledge ! From how many snares and 
 dangers w^ill his innocence and virtue be protected, 
 when he knows that he must regulate his life accord- 
 ing to the doctrine which he preaches, and especially 
 if he is to enjoy the respect and esteem of his parish- 
 ioners ! In short, my son shall be educated for the 
 Church ; and therefore as long as you are his tutor, 
 let that be your aim and guide." 
 
 Mr. Bode refrained from offering any further 
 opposition, and in secret he respected the plan which 
 Mrs. Fitzallan had laid down for the education of her 
 son ; indeed, in his estimation, the worthy mother 
 appeared in the character of a genuine pietist, for she 
 seized almost every opportunity of conversing with 
 him on the simple as well as on the abstract truths 
 of religion ; and the able manner in which she treated 
 the different subjects, proved to him that the mind of 
 Mrs. Fitzallan was cast in no common mould, and 
 that her powers of reasoning were in fact far superior 
 to his own. 
 
 Mrs. Fitzallan often in the presence of Mr. Bode
 
 22 FITZAI.LAN. 
 
 spoke to her son of his deceased father, and extolled 
 him as an excellent and a highly honourable man, but 
 she often found herself embarrassed by that natural 
 shrewdness which is so often perceptible in youth 
 and which never displays itself with greater force 
 than when the affections of the heart are engaged. 
 " Why," asked Hector, " did my father go to Ame- 
 rica and not remain with j'ou, especially when he 
 must have been aware of the dangers attending a 
 voyage to that country? Why did he separate him- 
 self from you, seeing that he loved you so tenderly ; 
 and why did he not take you with him ?" 
 
 Mrs. Fitzallan hesitated for some time as to the 
 answers which she should give, for it was evident 
 that she feared to commit herself by an inadvertent 
 one, which might give rise to further explanation, 
 and only tend to increase her embarrassment. She 
 therefore merely replied, that her husband went to 
 claim the property of a rich relation who died in Phi- 
 ladelphia ; " and most willingly," she added, "would 
 I have accompanied him, but it was his wish that I 
 should remain at home, to be your guardian and 
 protector. Had I not in this respect conformed to 
 his wishes, you would now stand in the world as an 
 unprotected orphan." 
 
 " Have you then received the money from Ame- 
 rica ?" asked Hector. 
 
 " Most certainly," answered his mother, " or we 
 should not be able to live in our present style." 
 
 " Well," said Hector, in the fulness of his simpli- 
 city, " I would rather have had my father than the 
 money ;— would not you, mother ?"
 
 FITZALLAN. 23 
 
 An involuntary tear started into the eye of Mrs. 
 Fitzallan, but she seemed to struggle against the 
 force of her rising emotions, and she broke off the 
 discourse by proposing a ride to the neighbouring 
 town. 
 
 The time flew rapidly away, undistinguished by 
 any particular event calculated to arouse the dormant 
 curiosity of the neighbouring gentry ; they had been 
 literally tired out in exploring the mystery of Mrs. 
 Fitzallan's situation, and finding themselves discom- 
 fited in every attempt, they very wisely desisted from 
 renewing the attempt. 
 
 Mr. Bode now considered that the education of his 
 j)upil was completed as far as his own exertions were 
 concerned, and it was consequently resolved that 
 Hector should repair to one of the universities for 
 the completion of his studies. The worthy preceptor 
 who had fulfilled the important task intrusted to him 
 with the most distinguished ability and fidelity, 
 was now on the point of leaving a house, in which 
 he had spent the happiest years of his life. He had 
 no immediate prospect of obtaining another situation ; 
 and one evening, as he was speaking to Mrs. Fitz- 
 allan of his approaching departure, she said, " My 
 worthy friend, you have been a good and faithful 
 preceptor to my son, and I know that he is attached 
 to you with his whole heart ; I cannot consider my- 
 self therefore absolved from every obligation to you, 
 or that I should suffer any opportunity to escape of 
 evincing my gratitude towards you. 1 am, however, 
 no stranger to the noble and liberal sentiments which 
 influence your mind ; and with that knowledge I air
 
 24 IITZALLAS. 
 
 persuaded that any pecuniary remuneration would 
 be rejected by you ; I therefore pray you, that you 
 will continue in my service ; that you will accompany 
 my son to the university, and continue to be his 
 guide and friend, assisting him as far as you are able 
 in the higher departments of learning which will now 
 occupy his mind." 
 
 Mr. Bode most willingly and gratefully accepted 
 the offer; and Hector, who felt severely the. approach- 
 ing separation from his mother, was rejoiced to hear 
 that the worthy and truly-respected preceptor was to 
 accompany him. The hour of departure arrived, and 
 with eyes streaming with tears, Mrs. Fitzallan bade 
 her only child adieu. A dark and gloomy presenti- 
 ment filled her mind, that his path through life was 
 one not to be strewed with flowers, and that at every 
 turn and winding of it some hidden foe was to burst 
 upon him — the destroyer of his happiness, the tempter 
 of his innocence and his virtue. She knew the 
 world from experience ; and although the maxim 
 may in some instances be true, — that the world is 
 that which we ourselves make it to be, yet her mind 
 was not wholly free from a belief in destiny, and that 
 the free agency of man was incompetent to avert the 
 accomplishment of its decrees. 
 
 Mrs. Fitzallan continued to receive from Mr. Bode 
 the most flattering accounts of the progress of her 
 son in every branch of learning, and of his apparently 
 inflexible adherence to the principles of virtue and 
 religion. The holidays were now approaching, and 
 Mrs. Fitzallan despatched a letter to her son, inviting 
 him and his preceptor to spend them with lier. With
 
 FITZALLAN. 25 
 
 inexpressible joy Hector saw the morning break on 
 which he was to commence his journey to his much- 
 loved home, where the caresses of an affectionate and 
 indulgent mother awaited him. The evening pre- 
 viously to his departure. Hector was agreeably sur- 
 prised by the arrival of Philip, the faithful coachman 
 of his mother, who had brought the carriage for his 
 accommodation ; for to the youthful heart there is 
 something delightfully pleasing in the voice of an 
 old domestic, grown grey perhaps in the service of 
 the family, who has administered to our sports in our 
 boyish days, vvho has fondled us on his knee, and 
 who has assisted us out of all the little scrapes and 
 embarrassments in which juvenile heedlessness so 
 often involves us. 
 
 The morning of departure broke, and Hector and 
 his preceptor seated themselves in the carriage. " We 
 must not lose any time," said Philip, as he applied his 
 whip to the horses, " for do you not know, master 
 Hector, that to-day is your birth-day, and your 
 mother has invited all the neighbouring gentry to a 
 fete. She told me not to inform you of her plan, as 
 it was her desire to give you pleasure by the surprise ; 
 but I knew you would rejoice to hear it, and therefore 
 I could not refrain telling you." 
 
 " Push on then," said Hector, to whom the dis- 
 tance now appeared greater than it really was, and 
 every mile longer than the former. 
 
 They had proceeded about a dozen miles, when 
 in passing through a wood, the forewheel of the 
 carriage came so violently in contact with a large stone, 
 that the axle-tree broke, and in the situation in which
 
 2G yiTZALLAN. 
 
 they then were, no prospect of immediate assistance 
 presented itself. Hector, impressed with the idea of 
 the impossibihty of reaching his mother's house in 
 time for the fete, and thereby depriving her of the 
 principal portion of her anticipated pleasure, began 
 to blame the unskiliiilness of Philip, and to express 
 his surprise at his want of caution in not perceiving 
 the stone, and thereby preventing the disastrous con- 
 sequences which had ensued. There are few persons 
 who like to have their abilities called in question in 
 that particular department in which they fancy they 
 excel. The hair of an Irving would bristle up with 
 indignation, if his ability were questioned to inspire 
 his hearers with the prophetic power of bellowing 
 forth in an unknown tongue ; the Marquess of Lon- 
 donderry would undoubtedly send us a challenge if 
 we disputed his powers to make long speeches, with 
 a superabundance of froth in them and no substance ; 
 and young Bayley would send us to the Old Bailey, 
 if we presumed to tell him that his amatory effusions 
 were exceedingly vapid, and only calculated to please 
 boarding-school misses, milliners' girls, and chamber- 
 maids : uo wonder then that Philip, when his skill 
 in driving was questioned, rudely answered, that if 
 his young master were a few years older, he would 
 not have made use of such language, for it could 
 not be supposed that it could impart any satisfaction 
 to him to have caused the present accident, and as 
 to any premeditated design, it was wholly out of the 
 question. Mr. Bode very judiciously interfered, and 
 told Hector, that few persons ever accomplish any 
 particular purpose without meeting with some dis-
 
 FirZALLAN. 27 
 
 aster. " Life," he said, " is nothing more than a 
 tissue of accidents, only varying- in their shade of 
 g^loom or brightness. Every thing is subject to 
 change ; and the sky which in the morning is without 
 a spot, may before mid-day be enveloped in tem- 
 pestuous clouds. It becomes every one to conform 
 himself to his destiny, not knowing for what pur- 
 pose it is ordained, nor the results to which it is 
 likely to lead." Little did Mr. Bode suppose that his 
 youthful pupil would be soon called upon to reduce 
 those wise rules of experience to actual practice. 
 
 It was not without the greatest trouble that the 
 carriage was drawn to the next village, where it was 
 expected that the injury could be repaired ; but those 
 who have ever frequented a blacksmith's shop, 
 whether in England or Scotland, especially in the 
 latter, when some sheep's heads are to be singed for 
 the purpose of enhancing the flavour of their broth, 
 have generally found it to be the rendezvous of all 
 the politicians and gossips of the place ; and it fol- 
 lows as a natural consequence, that they who hear 
 much, have also much to tell. Now it unfortunately 
 happened, that at the very time when the carriage 
 arrived before the door of the blacksmith's shop, 
 the son of Vulcan was just then in the very heart of 
 a long story, to which about half a dozen ploughmen 
 and labourers were listening with open mouths and 
 straining eyes, and no one but the youthful, inex- 
 perienced Hector could have supposed for a moment 
 that because the axle-tree of his carriage was broken, 
 the thread of so important a history as the black- 
 smith was then relating was also to be broken, and
 
 28 IITZALLAN. 
 
 merely for the purpose of enabling him to pursue his 
 journey about an hour earlier. It was a very bizarre 
 idea ; but Hector, in the fulness of his simplicity, 
 informed the blacksmith that it was his birth-day ; 
 also that his mother was to give a fete on the occa- 
 sion, and therefore he was desirous that every ex- 
 pedition might be used, in order that he might 
 arrive in time to partake of the festivities. But the 
 blacksmith appeared to care no more for his birth-day 
 and the festivities of the fete, than the Roman 
 Catholic fanatic Simeon Stylites (who on account of 
 his intolerance is supposed to be the progenitor of 
 the Stylites of Brixton) did for the calf's head, which 
 some shameless heretic dared to offer him on 
 Good Friday. Finding, therefore, that neither ex- 
 postulation nor persuasion had any influence on the 
 blacksmith. Hector proceeded to try the all-powerful 
 and seldom-failing efficacy of gold ; but, mirahilr. 
 dictum, this even failed ; the blacksmith was ap- 
 proaching the catastrophe of his story, and to stop 
 at that most interesting part of it could not, in his 
 opinion, be rationally expected of him. 
 
 Mr. Bode now finding it impossible to produce 
 any effect on the blacksmith, suggested the hiring of 
 some vehicle, and proceeding to the next town, where 
 a proper conveyance could be obtained. Any plan 
 which had the slightest reference to expedition was 
 eagerly embraced by Hector, and the advice of Mr 
 Bode was adopted. It belongs to genius to devise a 
 plan, and genius does indeed devise many plans, which 
 are never put into execution. Genius devised the 
 Thames Tunnel, but genius has stuck fast in the
 
 riTZ ALLAN. 29 
 
 middle ; we know a g-enius, a Yorkshire baronet, who 
 invented a hfe-boat, and the first time it put to sea half 
 of the crew were drowned : and this was in some 
 respects the fate of the plan which the genius of Mr. 
 Bode had devised. To propose the hiring of a vehicle 
 is one thing, but whether there be any vehicle to hire 
 is another ; or whether such vehicle after having been 
 hired was in any way suitable to the purpose desired, 
 is another point of serious consideration. After in- 
 stituting numerous inquiries at every house in the 
 village, a vehicle was certainly at length obtained, 
 but woe to those who mounted it, if their bones were 
 not firmly fixed in their sockets ; and in regard to 
 the horse that was attached to it, (for it was deter- 
 mined that Philip should remain that night in the 
 village, and bring the carriage after them on the 
 following day,) it was, as far as skin and bone were 
 concerned, a very near relation to Rosinante, the 
 celebrated steed of that most incomparable of all 
 knights-errant, Don Quixote. Nevertheless, it is 
 surprising with what calmness and equanimity some 
 people can accommodate themselves to existing cir- 
 cumstances, and look upon things with a placid and 
 gratified look, which under any other aspect would 
 be treated with indifference, if not with positive con- 
 tempt. Thus Hector and his preceptor, who but 
 balf an hour ago would have treated the idea as pre- 
 posterous, that they should be obliged to put up with 
 the accommodation of a common cart of a common 
 peasant, now mounted it with alacrity, laughing at 
 the ludicrous figure which they exhibited, as well as 
 at the grotesque appearance of the man who drove
 
 30 FITZALLAN. 
 
 them. It must be admitted that progress is the aim 
 of every traveller, and although Hector and his tutor 
 could not congratulate themselves that they were 
 proceeding at the rate of an English stage-coach, 
 but rather at the funereal pace of a German post- 
 wagon through the sandy plains of Hanover, still 
 they were making some little progress, and it was 
 no httle satisfaction to Hector when he thought that 
 every step which their Rosinante took brought him 
 nearer to his mother. 
 
 The travellers now entered a forest, in which they 
 had not proceeded far, when they distinctly heard 
 the cry of a man, evidently proceeding from the in- 
 terior of the wood. "What is that?" asked Mr. 
 Bode, addressing himself to the driver, " there are, I 
 hope, no banditti in the forest." Hector felt rather 
 alarmed, for he thought there was something ominous 
 in the sound which he had heard. *' Heaven forbid," 
 replied the driver, " how should any banditti get into 
 this forest ? I have passed the whole of my life in the 
 village, and I never knew but of one murder committed 
 in it. I can point out to you the exact spot, for a 
 stone cross is erected to perpetuate the dreadful deed." 
 
 The travellers now distinctly heard the noise of 
 a carriage, which appeared to be approaching in an 
 opposite direction to their own route, and their fears 
 began to subside, as it was not probable that if there 
 were any banditti in the forest, they would attack a 
 mean vehicle like' theirs, and suffer a valuable booty 
 to escape, which the approaching carriage might 
 afford them. The road was in this part exceedingly 
 narrow, and it was necessary on the part of the
 
 FITZALLAN. 31 
 
 driver to use the utmost precaution in order to prevent 
 the carriages coming into collision. Now it happened 
 that this relative of Rosinante was one of that 
 steady, regular, and consistent kind of brutes, which 
 being accustomed to travel in a certain beaten track, 
 like some certain human animals, feel no disposition 
 to make any digression into a by-path, and conse- 
 quently, notwithstanding the driver pulled most man- 
 fully at therein, with the intention of allowing suffi- 
 cient space for the approaching carriage to pass, yet 
 all his exertions were in vain, and the wheels of the 
 two carriages became in consequence entangled with 
 each other. This, however, had no sooner happened, 
 than Mr. Bode heard a voice in the carriage exclaim- 
 ing, " It is he, it is he •' and a well-dressed gentle- 
 man immediately descended from the carriage, and 
 addressing Mr. Bode, said, " Fate has brought us 
 together in rather an extraordinary manner, and 
 whether it be agreeable or not, chance has so ordained 
 it, that we should become acquainted with each 
 other. May I presume to inquire into the import of 
 your journey, and whether you be the father of the 
 youth who accompanies you ?" Mr. Bode, although 
 rather struck with the singularity of the question, 
 hesitated not a moment to declare that he was merely 
 the tutor of the youth, and not in the slightest degree 
 related to him by birth. 
 
 " I am myself," said the stranger, " a Liverpool 
 merchant, and am now travelling to meet my son, 
 and I no sooner caught a glimpse of the young man, 
 than I thought I recognised in him my son Charles.
 
 32 FITZ ALLAN. 
 
 I now, however, distinctly perceive tliat I have com- 
 mitted a mistake." 
 
 The pretended merchant now entered into con- 
 versation with Hector, and appeared to pay little or 
 no attention to Mr. Bode. In the mean time, how- 
 ever, the carriages were disentangled, and ready to 
 proceed in their respective routes, but there was 
 something so strikingly singular in the conduct of 
 the merchant, that Mr. Bode felt a secret wish to 
 close an acquaintance which had been formed under 
 such peculiar circumstances, and therefore ordered 
 their driver to proceed without further delay. This 
 was, however, opposed by the merchant, who invited 
 Hector and his companion to partake of some re- 
 freshment which he carried with him in his carriage. 
 The invitation was however refused, under the pre- 
 t' that they had not a moment to lose, if they 
 
 V ^'.ed to reach the town of D before the 
 
 jght set in. The stranger was, however, so very 
 pressing and importunate, and in the opinion of 
 Hector there appeared so much real honesty and 
 cordiality in his invitation, that the scruples of Mr. 
 Bode were overcome, and the stranger proceeded to 
 hand Hector into his carriage. Mr. Bode expected 
 that the same politeness would be extended to him- 
 self, but to his great astonishment, the stranger 
 immediately followed Hector, and without waiting 
 to have the door closed, he cried out to the coach- 
 man, "Now gallop away as fast as you can." The 
 whip was immediately applied to the horses, and 
 they darted away, almost laying Mr. Bode prostrate
 
 PITZALLAN. 33 
 
 on the ground, who stood almost rivetted to the 
 spot with astonishment, and scarcely sufficiently col- 
 lected as to know whether he should consider the 
 abduction of Hector as a mere joke, or as an act of 
 the most atrocious aggression. He, however, in a 
 short time recovered from his surprise, and in the 
 urgency of the moment, ordered the peasant to turn 
 his horse, and try to overtake the carriage. The 
 peasant certainly hesitated not to fulfil one part of the 
 order of Mr. Bode, which was to turn the head of 
 his horse ; but as to the performance of the other part 
 of it, viz. that of overtaking the carriage, his efforts 
 were attended with the same degree of success as 
 was enjoyed by the six hundred virgins of the re- 
 nowned St. Ursula, who when they beheld their 
 beloved mother and saint ascending into heaven, all 
 began to jump as high as they could, expecting th?t 
 they should be able to ascend with their corpor . .' 
 frames, and overtake their blessed mother before her 
 arrival at her place of destination. Mr. Bode soon 
 perceived the inability of the peasant's horse to pro- 
 secute the pursuit, and therefore he began to con- 
 sider whether he could not effect by his own human 
 power, what the horse could not accomplish by 
 its animal. He, therefore, descended from the 
 vehicle, and pursued the carriage with all the agility 
 of which he was possessed, but this attempt also 
 proved abortive, for the carriage was soon lost from 
 his view, and even the sound of its wheels soon died 
 away at a distance. 
 
 Mr. Bode stood for some time like the traveller in 
 the desert who has lost sight of the landmark, and 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 FITZALLAN. 
 
 knows not which course to pursue to arrive at the 
 destined point. He was fully aware of the un- 
 bounded affection which Mrs. Fitzallan entertained 
 for her son, and that he should most probably place 
 her life in imminent danger, were he to be the 
 abrupt bearer of the disastrous event which had just 
 occurred. Panting for breath, and exhausted with 
 his endeavour to overtake the carriage, he was glad 
 to find himself at the entrance of the village where 
 he had left Philip with the broken carriage, as he 
 was still animated by a faint hope that he should 
 there hear some tidings of the fugitives, and recover 
 the valuable prize which he had lost. In whatever 
 light he viewed the business, the whole of it was to 
 him a perfect enigma, and the most extraordinary 
 feature of it appeared to be the indifference which 
 Hector exhibited ; he did not seem to be impressed 
 with any fear, nor to show the slightest ebullition of 
 anger, but, on the contrary, he allowed himself to be 
 carried off, as if it had been a matter which he ex- 
 pected, and the result of which was known to him. 
 
 Mr. Bode found Philip very comfortably seated 
 in the public-house, with a jug of beer before him, and 
 surrounded by half a dozen peasants, who were 
 listening to one of Philip's marvellous stories — tor 
 Phihp, be it known, considered himself a man ot 
 sense and information. He had travelled as far as 
 the confines of Switzerland, he had seen the Alps 
 at a distance, and he was therefore able to speak ot 
 their glaciers, and their tremendous precipices, and 
 their torrents, and their avalanches ; and he had just 
 iliformed his auditors of the enormous crocodiles
 
 PITZALLAN. 35 
 
 which he had actually seen in some of the rivers of 
 the south, and of the extreme delicacy of their eggs, 
 some of which he had eaten, when Mr. Bode pre- 
 sented himself at the door. St. Anthony himself 
 could not have stared more wildly when he beheld 
 the thousand virgins approaching him to lay siege to 
 his chastity, than Philip did when Mr. Bode entered 
 the room unaccompanied by Hector. " What is the 
 matter ?" exclaimed Philip ; " where is my young 
 master?" " How !" exclaimed Mr. Bode, with the 
 full expectation of receiving a favourable answer, 
 *' did you not see him pass by in a carriage, driven 
 at a furious rate?" "I have seen neither coach nor 
 Hector," replied Philip with a smile, who now began 
 to think that Mr. Bode was imposing on him by 
 some fictitious story ; but when Mr. Bode assured 
 him that he was under great alarm for the safety of 
 his valuable charge, and related to him the whole of 
 the adventure, Philip answered with all the com- 
 posure of a heart perfectly at ease, " Stop a little, 
 Mr. Bode, our carriage is nearly repaired, we will 
 depart instantly, and believe me, we shall find Hector 
 with his mother. There is something very myste- 
 rious both about her and this young man, whom she 
 calls her son — it is to me all a riddle, but time per- 
 haps will solve it ; in the mean time, however, I will 
 venture to say that Hector is in good hands." 
 
 Full of anxiety, and pondering on the manner in 
 which he should communicate the disastrous intel- 
 ligence to Mrs. Fitzallan, he departed with Philip , 
 and when they reached the spot where the unfortu- 
 nate accident had happened, his heart beat audibly, 
 d2
 
 36 FITZALLAN. 
 
 and he looked around him v/ith the wary eye of fear, 
 expecting every moment that some bandit, or hired 
 assassin, would rush out of the forest, and make him 
 the victim of his cruelty. In this, however, they were 
 mistaken, for they arrived safely at the residence of 
 Mrs. Fitzallan ; but as the carriage was driving np 
 the lawn in the front of the house, the tongue of 
 Mr. Bode appeared to cleave to the roof of his 
 mouth, and all his powers of speech to have left 
 him, when he beheld Mrs. Fitzallan, in all the ful- 
 ness of maternal affection, hastening towards the 
 carriage, exclaiming, " Oh, my Hector 1 this tardy 
 arrival of thine has embittered the whole happiness 
 of the evening, to which I have looked forward with 
 so much joy ; the visitors have been long waiting 
 for you. But where is my Hector ?" perceiving that 
 Mr, Bode was alone. 
 
 " It is with the greatest grief," said Mr. Bode, 
 *' that I must inform you that your son is not with 
 me." 
 
 " Not with you !" repeated Mrs. Fitzallan. " Is 
 he then so ill that he is obliged to remain at college, 
 or are you the messenger of his death?" 
 
 Mr. Bode now related to Mrs. Fitzallan the whole 
 of the adventure, and she sank on a sudden into a 
 deep tit of musing. Recovering herself, she said to 
 Mr. Bode, " Let not this adventure transpire amongst 
 the visitors ; for once we must have recourse to some 
 feigned pretext for the absence of my son ; we wHl say, 
 that on account of a slight indisposition, which might 
 be increased by travelling, he was not allowed to ac- 
 company you; and I also charge you, Mr. Bode, to
 
 FITZALLAN. 37 
 
 impose on Philip the same secrecy. It is my most 
 positive desire that he makes not the slightest men- 
 tion of the real cause of the absence of my son ; his 
 situation depends on his silence. Forget not to in- 
 form Philip of such being my determination.'* 
 
 The surprise of Mr. Bode exceeded all bounds at 
 the unexpected and extraordinary composure which 
 Mrs. Fitzailan manifested on receipt of the disastrous 
 intelligence, for he fully expected that his communi- 
 cation would plunge her into the most violent grief; 
 so far, however, from that taking place, she calmly 
 desired Mr. Bode to accompany her for a few minutes 
 to her boudoir, where having closed the door, she 
 questioned him in an under tone, as if fearful of being 
 overheard, respecting the form, figure, and dress of 
 the gentleman, the colour of the horses, the arms on 
 the carriage, and other similar particulars ; all of 
 which Mr. Bode having answered to the best of his 
 ability, she said, with the utmost composure of mind, 
 *' My only fear is, that the sudden shock may have 
 had an injurious effect on the health of my son, but 
 in other respects I am not under very great appre- 
 hension about him ; he is in good hands, and I hope 
 to see him again in a few days. But I implore you, 
 Mr. Bode, to preserve a close silence on the subject. 
 I am now placed in that most embarrassing and 
 trying situation, that I am compelled to allow you in 
 read a few pages in the dark book of my destiny, and 
 by exposing to you the singular circumstances in 
 which I am placed, I hope I shall not be degraded 
 in your estimation. My heart is guiltless, and al 
 though 1 may be conscious of having committed one
 
 38 FITZALLAN. 
 
 great error in my life, still my conscience upbraids me 
 not for it, nor do I expect to be punished for it by 
 the Almighty Judge of Heaven. Let us now join the 
 company ; betray me not, and remember that you 
 left Hector behind you on account of illness." 
 
 Mrs. Fitzallan entered the apartment in which her 
 guests were assembled with an evident dejection on 
 her countenance. " The happiness which I antici- 
 pated in beholding my son to-day," she said, on 
 entering, "is wholly destroyed. Mr. Bode has 
 brought me the melancholy intelligence that he is 
 indisposed ; it is, however, some consolation to me 
 to reflect that his life is not considered by any means 
 to be in danger. It is nothing new to me to experi- 
 ence the frustration of my dearest hopes ; for no 
 cloudless day is destined to shine upon me ; if the 
 morning be bright, ere the sun has set I am wrapt 
 in gloom and sadness. Let not, however, this cir- 
 cumstance," she added, *' throw the least damp on 
 the enjoyments of the evening;" and in a short time 
 Mrs. Fitzallan was observed to regain her wonted 
 hilarity, and appeared to attend to the comfort and 
 mirth of her visitors with the same cheerful counte- 
 nance as if her son had actually been present. 
 
 That this apathy or indifference of Mrs. Fitzallan 
 could fail to attract the attention of some of the 
 members of the community can only be supposed 
 by those who never have had the misfortune to 
 be included within the coteries of some country 
 would-be fashionables, and who consequently arfe 
 ignorant of all the petty jealousies, the malicious 
 sneers, and the false constructions which are ge-
 
 PITZALLAN. 39 
 
 nerally put upon the actions of others, particularly 
 if there be any appearance of a departure from 
 that prudish mode of conduct which they have in 
 their own minds established as the standard of pro- 
 priety and decorum. Some of the company — that 
 is, the waspish part of it, saw in this indiflference of 
 Mrs. Fitzallan a something so out of the common 
 way, that they very sagaciously concluded, that there 
 must be something very wonderful and very myste- 
 rious in her domestic relations ; at all events it was 
 the indication, which could not be disputed, of a 
 senseless and unfeeling heart. Others, however, 
 concluded more wisely, that although they had been 
 concluding and concluding ever since Mrs. Fitzallan 
 came into the country, yet they were just as far from 
 arriving at any positive result, as they were at the 
 moment when she dropped from the clouds amongst 
 them, or emerged from the river of Lethe ; and 
 therefore they " merely made a note of it in their 
 prief-book," and left time to develope the remainder. 
 It was, however, surprising to observe the extra- 
 ordinary attention which was on that evening paid to 
 Mr. Bode. He appeared, notwithstanding his re- 
 semblance to a Sandwich idol, to be in uncommon 
 request with the ladies ; and he had no sooner satis- 
 fied the kind inquiries of one party, that the malady 
 of Hector was not the small-pox, than he was called 
 to another part of the room to allay the fears of 
 some good, kind, and over-anxious souls, that the 
 poor dear boy had not caught the measles, especially 
 as it was a very bad time of the year to be afflicted 
 with that malady. This point being settled, a third
 
 40 FITZALLAN. 
 
 party pounced upon him, expressing their sincerest 
 hopes that Hector was not suffering under the 
 scarlet fever, which was known to be raging in the 
 town in which he was domiciliated : this, Mr. Bode 
 assured them was not the case ; and he now hoped 
 that he was free from any further importunity, but he 
 had as yet only given the kind inquirers a negative. 
 He was now unexpectedly called upon to give an 
 affirmative by a grave, demure, and antiquated kind 
 of a lady ; who, after having politely invited Mr. 
 Bode to occupy a chair by her side, thus addressed 
 him : " I understand, sir, that the hooping cough is 
 very prevalent in the college where the son of our 
 worthy hostess resides ; pray may that be the malady 
 with which he is afflicted?" 
 
 *' It is not, madam ;" answered Mr. Bode. 
 
 *' Then, sir, will you be so kind as to inform me 
 of the precise malady under which he is suffering?" 
 
 " I believe, madam," answered Mr. Bode, prompted 
 by the imp of mischief, " that it is the cholera 
 morbus." 
 
 " Lackadaisy," said the lady, rising immediately 
 from her seat ; " poor fellow ! only think, it is the 
 cholera morbus :" and in two minutes afterwards 
 there was scarcely an individual in the room, who 
 did not carry home with them the important news — 
 that Hector Fitzallan was lying- dangerously ill of 
 the cholera morbus. 
 
 The thoughts of Mr. Bode were, however, directed 
 at this time to a very different object than either 
 Hector or his cholera morbus. His mind was by 
 BO means in a suitable temper for the enjoyment of
 
 FITZALLAN. ' 41 
 
 the amusements which were offered to him, for his 
 penetrating eye perceived that a violent struggle was 
 carrying on internally in the heart of Mrs. Fitzallan, 
 and that, notwithstanding all her efforts, she could 
 not completely conceal the grief which afflicted Her. 
 Once he observed her retiring to an unoccupied part 
 of the room, and draw her hand across her eyes, as 
 if she were wiping away a tear ; and it was evident, 
 that although her heart might be at ease in regard 
 to the personal safety of her son, yet that there were 
 some circumstances connected with his absence which 
 appeared to open some wounds which had been 
 scarcely healed ; it was also visible that she felt the 
 pain the more severely, because there was no one to 
 whom she could disclose it. It is not the grief that 
 can be communicated that lacerates the heart ; it is 
 that secret gnawing sorrow which no eye dare see, 
 which no tongue dare reveal, that, hke a cankering 
 worm, preys on the core of human life, robs the 
 cheek of the bloom of health, and lays the victim pre- 
 maturely in the grave. 
 
 It was not till after midnight that the company 
 separated. Mrs. Fitzallan appeared to manifest an 
 uncommon degree of reluctance to enter into any 
 conversation with Mr. Bode : she kindly wished him 
 good night, and retired to her apartment.
 
 42 FITZALLAN. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 I went and took my father's hand, 
 
 And look'd into his face, 
 And begg'd him not to turn away 
 
 His child from his embrace. 
 And so he kiss'd me when he saw 
 
 The tear of anguish start, 
 But all so coldly that it fell 
 
 Like ice upon my heart. 
 
 Mr. Bode retired also to his bed-room, but he could 
 not sleep ; the events which had lately occurred had 
 so distracted his mind, that sleep appeared to be 
 banished from his eyes. The actions, and the whole 
 conduct of Mrs. Fitzallan seemed to him to be ac- 
 companied with greater mystery than formerly, and 
 his curiosity was raised to the highest pitch to hear 
 from her own lips some elucidation of her conduct. 
 This curiosity, however, did not spring from that 
 mean and petty disposition, which distinguishes some 
 people, to make themselves acquainted with the 
 affairs of others, merely for the malicious gratification 
 of hurrying from house to house to retail them with 
 additions and exaggerations ; but he was influenced 
 by the hope, that if he were made privy to the situa- 
 tion in which she then stood, he might be of essential 
 service to her in alleviating her fate, by the removal 
 of those obstacles which particular, and, perhaps,
 
 FITZALLAN. 43 
 
 unforeseen circumstances might have thrown in the 
 way of her happiness. He was, however, well aware 
 of the extreme delicacy which ought to distinguish 
 all his actions in a case of this kind, and therefore 
 he determined to await the time when the flower 
 would open of itself, rather than attempt to hasten 
 it by any rude or untimely interference of his own. 
 He, however, retired to rest with the full expectation 
 that Mrs. Fitzallan would send for him early in the 
 morning, and make him the confident of her secrets. 
 But in this expectation he was most grievously dis- 
 appointed, for at a very early hour a servant knocked 
 at his door, informing him that he had a letter to 
 deliver from his mistress, who had departed about 
 
 an hour before for D , on a visit to her son, 
 
 and that on her departure it was her positive injunc- 
 tion that Mr. Bode should remain in the house until 
 her return. 
 
 This circumstance tended not a little to put the 
 curiosity of Mr. Bode literally on the rack, for it was 
 evident to him that the cause of Mrs. Fitzallan's 
 departure was wholly fictitious, for she knew well 
 
 that her son was not in D ; he therefore rose 
 
 hastily from his bed, and read the following letter : 
 
 " I cannot conceal it from you that my Hector is 
 the cause of my sudden departure from my residence. 
 I expect, if my gxDod genius be propitious to me, to 
 return in about six weeks. Let the report be circu- 
 lated that I am gone to visit my son, and let it be your 
 endeavour to confirm it to every one who, in their 
 officiousness, may think proper to inquire after me. ; 
 
 " I have devoted a part of the night in fulfilling
 
 44 riTZALLAN. 
 
 ihe promise I made to you yesterday to impart to 
 you some of the leading- circumstances of my life. 
 They will throw some light upon the mystery which 
 appears to hang over my actions, and be sufficient to 
 enable you to form a correct estimate of my charac- 
 ter. The injury which you would inflict upon me were 
 you to divulge any part of it would be irreparable, 
 without it being productive of the slightest benefit 
 to yourself I regard you as a highly honourable 
 man, incapable of a mean or degrading action, and 
 therefore! can fearlessly and conscientiously confide in 
 you. Attend to what I now impart to you, and destroy 
 this letter as soon as you have read the last word of it. 
 " It was not until I had attained my fourteenth 
 year that my mother informed me that I was the 
 illegitimate child of an affluent and highly respected 
 nobleman. My mother herself was of noble blood, 
 but she was discarded by her family in consequence 
 of her connexion with my father. I have often 
 found her overwhelmed in tears, and often has it 
 been the occupation of my midnight hours to sit by 
 her bed-side, and by my filial attentions assuage the 
 grief which appeared at times too great for her con- 
 stitution to support. She rejected every offerof mar- 
 riage that was made to her, and which, on account 
 of her beauty, were very numerous. On the death 
 of my father, which took place v/hen I was only 
 three years old, we were left in a state of the greatest 
 penury. His heirs refused us that support which 
 my father had granted us during life, but which he 
 had failed to secure to us according to the strict letter 
 of the law. This omission was taken advantage of
 
 FITZALLAN. 45 
 
 by his heirs, and from a state of comparative affluence 
 we were now reduced to one of positive poverty. 
 
 *' An uncle of the maternal side at last took com- 
 passion on me, and received me iuto his house, v.here 
 by himself I was treated with the utmost kindness 
 and affection ; but very different was the treatment I 
 received from his wife. I appeared to be the object 
 of her hatred. She had three daughters, with whom 
 I associated as with a sister; one of them had some 
 pretensions to beauty, but the other two might lite- 
 rally be pronounced as amongst the ugliest of their 
 sex. This circumstance was the foundation of that 
 dislike which my aunt imbibed for me, for I was 
 courted and admired by all the visitors who fre- 
 quented the house, and it wounded her maternal 
 pride to behold the distinguished preference wliich 
 was so lavishly bestowed upon me. The most 
 valuable gift, however, which I inherited from my 
 mother was an understanding adorned and enriched 
 with the most useful knowledge, and a heart noble 
 and unsophisticated, but by nature, I confess, too 
 susceptible. I was an enthusiast ; where I fixed my 
 affections, that object was my all — my world : I 
 saw naught beyond it; I lived only in it and for it, 
 and without it life appeared a desert bereft of a single 
 flower to delight me. My skill in those accomplish- 
 ments which render the female character so amia- 
 ble and pleasing, was universally acknowledged to 
 be great. In music and singing I was a proficient, 
 and in my manners I was said to possess that free, 
 affable, and unrestrained deportment which opens the 
 way to every heart.
 
 46 FITZALLAN. 
 
 " Perhaps too early for my happiness I became 
 acquainted with a young man, whose name and 
 station in life I must conceal. He avowed his love 
 for me, and asked for mine in return. I acknow- 
 ledge that his image had long been impressed on my 
 heart, and in one of those moments which are the 
 most blissful of human life, and which are remem- 
 bered as the brightest spots of it even on the brink 
 of the grave, I confessed what I felt for him, and 
 one night, with no other witnesses than the stars of 
 heaven, we swore eternal fidelity to each other. 
 From that hour I maintained a secret epistolary cor- 
 respondence with him, and we now and then saw 
 each other. Still, however, I can say with conscious 
 pride, that neither our correspondence nor our meet- 
 ings were clandestine, they were both known to my 
 cousins, and I will do them the justice to say, that 
 they never betrayed the confidence which I reposed 
 in them. Once he wrote to me as follows : ' I ha\^ 
 not been able to persuade my parents to permit me 
 to marry you, as it is their intention that I should 
 give my hand to the rich heiress, the Countess 
 of Frampton. I am most strictly prohibited from 
 visiting you, and a thousand eyes are continually 
 employed to watch my motions. My father threatens 
 to disinherit me, if I do not renounce all intercourse 
 with you, and conform immediately to his wishes. 
 I cannot, however, obey the severe command — part 
 from you I cannot. If your love be equal to mine, 
 keep yourself in readiness to-morrow night. I will 
 come and bear you off, where you can be made mine 
 for ever. My father cannot deprive me of the estates
 
 FITZALLAN. 47 
 
 bequeathed to me by my grandfather, and their 
 revenue will be more than sufficient to support us 
 in a state of comfortable independence.' 
 
 " Those who have truly loved, and to those only 
 do I appeal, will exculpate me for the step which I 
 now took. I was ready at the appointed time ; he 
 came, and we flew on the wings of love. Six weeks 
 we lived in the cottage of a forester, concealed from 
 the eye of every person, and where we fondly flattered 
 ourselves we were safe from the pursuit of the father 
 of my adored Henry. But oh ! what is man, when 
 he has defoliaged the sweet bud of innocence, when 
 he has torn it from its stem to trample it under his 
 foot. We were discovered, and, instigated by threats 
 and promises, Henry was induced to return to the 
 house of his father. Money was sent to me in 
 superfluity at first, and I received letters full of pro- 
 testations, and of his solemn promises that he would 
 never marry anpther. By degrees, however, the 
 letters came less firequently ; my future destiny stood 
 clear before me : all Was soon explained, for I 
 heard that he had become the husband of the Countess 
 of Frampton. 
 
 '' I would not return to the house of my uncle, 
 I could not endure to expose myself to the gaze of 
 my former acquaintance. I felt the shame of my 
 situation, but still my conscience stung me not. I 
 had been deceived under all the flattering blandish- 
 ments — under the almost irresistible influence of an 
 ardent affection — of a first love, as chaste and pure 
 in its origin, as if it had sprung in an angel's breast. 
 Money was regularly and profusely sent to me ; my
 
 48 FITZALLAN. 
 
 pride at first induced me to refuse it, but it ^vas sent 
 in such a secret and private manner, that I was 
 deprived of the means of returninir; it. All the ex- 
 culpatory declarations with which Henry attempted to 
 justify himself, extinguished not in my breast the 
 remembrance of the crime which he had committed* 
 I became a mother, and Hector was born. 
 
 " Two months after the birth of my son, a youn^ 
 and handsome strang-er presented himself at the 
 door of the cottage, and inquired for me. Shame, 
 mingled with pride, induced me at first to refuse him 
 admittance, but he requested the wife of the forester 
 to deliver a letter to me. It was from Henry, and 
 the bearer was his most intimate friend, whom he 
 had sent to implore my pardon for the injury which 
 he had done me. I admitted the stranger, and he 
 used every effort in his power to reconcile me with 
 my seducer, assuring me that it was the solemn in- 
 tention of his friend, on the death of his father, who 
 was then seriously indisposed, to obtain a divorce 
 fi"om his wife, with whom he lived very unhappily, 
 and then it would be the greatest happiness of his 
 life to make me his wife. He besought me in the 
 most fervent manner to remain for some time at the 
 cottage, as preparations were then making for pro- 
 curing me a more suitable residence in a more 
 pleasant part of the country, in which I should ap- 
 pear as a total stranger, and where, by a change of 
 my name, I might for ever remain unknown. 
 
 " After the lapse of a few months, the stranger 
 again visited me, bringing with him a most striking 
 likeness of my Henry, and a letter couched in the
 
 FITZALLAN. 49 
 
 most affectionate terms. On looking at the portrait 
 I could no longer command my feelings, and had not 
 my tears come to my relief, I should have fallen on 
 the ground. The letter informed me of the death of 
 the father of Henry, and that he would immediately 
 obtain a divorce if I would consent, without casting 
 on him any reproaches or censures for his previous 
 conduct, to bestow my hand upon him. The love, 
 however, which I once bore for him had suffered 
 some diminution, and I was resolved that I would 
 not be made a party to his separation from his wife, 
 nor did I believe that I could live with him with 
 that respect and honour which became me, and I 
 tiierefore took a solemn vow not to marry him. 
 
 *' I was removed to the residence which was pro- 
 vided for me, and where I passed under a different 
 name to that which I now bear. In a short time 
 Henry visited me, repeated his entreaties that I 
 would marry him, but my resolution was not to be 
 shaken. All that he could obtain from me was, that 
 I would sit for my picture, which I did, and it was 
 delivered into his hands. 
 
 " In a few months his wife died in childbed, 
 although the child survived, and he now hastened to 
 me on the wings of love, and again offered me his 
 hand, but it was in vain ; I had taken a vow, and I 
 was determined not to infringe it. For how many 
 unparalleled acts of disinterested kindness have I 
 been since indebted to him ! Of how many benefits 
 and comforts have I been in the enjoyment of, solely 
 from the love which he bears for me ! He has re- 
 ceived my unqualified forgiveness, and one, perhaps- 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 FITZALLAN. 
 
 the last kiss I shall ever imprint on his lips told 
 him, that in my heart I still loved him. I now stand 
 for hours before his picture, I speak to it as if it 
 were a living thing, and in my vs^hisperings I recall 
 those hours which memory has hallowed, and which 
 are all that are left to me to brighten the stormy 
 scenes of my existence. I know not how to account 
 for it, but there is a destiny which guides us, which 
 forces us to march in a path which we are conscious 
 will not conduct us to our happiness. It was this 
 iron, this irresistible power which has stood between 
 me and Henry. I might have rendered him happy 
 \)y my love; I might in the endearments of an 
 affectionate heart, overflowing with the purest affec- 
 tion, have made him forget all that had previously 
 passed, and in the mellow autumn of our life, we 
 might have smiled at the storms which assailed us in 
 the spring. 
 
 " His life now appeared to be hateful to him ; my 
 obstinacy seemed to deprive him of all terrestrial 
 happiness. He formed the resolution of visiting 
 America, for the purpose of abstracting his mind 
 from the scenes of his native country, and from those 
 whom he in that country loved. I allowed him to 
 depart broken-hearted, and authentic intelligence has 
 been received of his death, but whether in the waves 
 by some untoward accident, or in a paroxysm of 
 despair by his own hand, I am left in ignorance. 
 
 *' The hour of my departure approaches ; I must 
 away, if to-morrow I am to embrace my Hector 5 I will 
 therefore now close this letter. On my return I will in- 
 form you of the reason of the composure with which I
 
 FITZALLAN. ^1 
 
 heard that a stranger had taken my son away in his 
 carriage. Again, I enjoin you to secrecy, and it is 
 my most earnest request that this letter may be 
 destroyed." 
 
 Mr. Bode sat for some time with the letter in his 
 hand, and thoughts of a very conflicting nature arose 
 in his mind. He destroyed the letter according to 
 the injunction of Mrs. Fitzallan, but some strong" 
 suspicions arose within him that some parts of its 
 contents were not wholly conformable to truth; 
 nevertheless, she had presented him with the clue, if 
 it were at any time required, by which he could probe 
 the secret to the bottom, without being the cause of 
 the slightest injury to her own immediate interests. 
 He vowed, as he regarded Mrs. Fitzallan as his 
 benefactress, that he would never betray a word of 
 the letter, and he honourably and faithfully fulfilled 
 his vow to his death. 
 
 e2 
 
 UNi/£RSirfOFaLINO(S
 
 52 FITZALLAN. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 I never heard 
 
 Of an}^ true affection, but 'twas nipt 
 
 With care ; that, Uke the caterpillar, eats 
 
 The leaves of the spring's sweetest book, the rose. 
 
 The fears which Mrs. Fitzallan had expressed rela- 
 tive to the effect which the shock might have upon 
 the mind of her son, were, in a great degree, but too 
 fully realized. When the stranger called to the 
 coachman in the wood to proceed at full gallop, 
 Hector exclaimed, overcome with fright, " What are 
 you doing ? Whither are you taking me ?" It how- 
 ever tended by no means to console him, when he 
 was answered, that he must keep himself composed, 
 if it were his wish that some very coercive mea- 
 sures should not be adopted towards him. Hector 
 now made a motion as if he would leap out of the 
 carriage, but he was forcibly withheld by his com- 
 panion, who, in a threatening voice, said, " If you 
 will not consent quietly to travel with me, and if you 
 ever again attempt to make your escape, you will 
 place me under the disagreeable necessity of firing 
 this pistol at you," drawing at the same time a pistol 
 from his pocket, and pointing it to the heart of 
 Hector.
 
 FITZALLAN. 53 
 
 " But," said the youth, trembling with fear, " I 
 have but little money with me, and that which I have 
 will I freely give to you — only let me return with 
 my tutor to my mother." 
 
 " Money is not my object," said the stranger ; " I 
 •am not a robber ; my only aim was to obtain pos- 
 session of your person, and I have succeeded ; you 
 are now in my power. But, my dear boy, be not 
 dismayed ; not a hair of your head shall be injured ; 
 I am conducting you towards your future happiness, 
 and the time is not far distant when you will not 
 Tepent of having followed me." 
 
 '* But how great will be my mother's grief," said 
 Hector, *' when Mr. Bode arrives without me." 
 
 " She will soon be consoled," said the stranger; 
 -*' for she cannot be wholly ignorant that you will not 
 be with her to-day." 
 
 " How is that possible?" asked Hector. 
 
 " I was yesterday with her," said the stranger, 
 " and I informed her that I should proceed to meet 
 you on the road. I know that to-day is your birth- 
 day, and that it was determined that you should attend 
 the celebration of it at home." 
 
 The astonishment of Hector at this information 
 *was boundless ; but any solution to the enigmatical 
 •expressions of the stranger, notwithstanding his great 
 ■anxiety to obtain it, was obstinately refused him. 
 •' The time is not yet come," said the stranger, " for 
 you to be made acquainted with all that you wish to 
 know. When you have attained the age of man- 
 hood, then will many secrets be laid open before 
 you which at present hang over your life, and then
 
 54 riTZALLAN. 
 
 only can the knowledge of them be of any use tt> 
 you. But now compose yourself; trust in your 
 present guide, whose intentions towards you are 
 highly honourable and friendly. In a few days you 
 will return to the arms of your mother. I am given 
 to understand that your father is no longer living. 
 Is that true ?" 
 
 " You are perhaps able," said Hector, " to answer 
 that question better than myself According to the 
 report of my mother he was drowned on his passage 
 to America: my eyes never beheld him. But can I 
 place any reliance on your w^ords, that I shall be re- 
 conducted to the arms of my mother ?" 
 
 " As certain," said the stranger, " as that yonder 
 sun now shines upon you.'* 
 
 *' But then," asked Hector, " why had you re- 
 course to these forcible measures? Could you not, if 
 your intentions be as honourable as you represent 
 them, have asked the permission of my mother to 
 accompany you?" 
 
 *' I cannot at present answer your question," said 
 the stranger ; " but be assured that the time is ap- 
 proaching when you will be able to answer those 
 questions yourself. You have been at the college of 
 
 ," continued the stranger, " and are now 
 
 studying theology ; would it not be more agreeable 
 to your own disposition if you were to apply yourself 
 to the profession of a soldier ?" 
 
 •; " It is my mother's wish," said Hector, " that I 
 should be a minister ; and I see no good grounds 
 why I should act in opposition to her wishes. Am 
 I not in duty bound to put a restraint upon any pur-
 
 FITZALLAN. 55 
 
 suit or inclination of my own, and thereby testify my 
 obedience to so kind and aftectionate a motiier ?" 
 
 " From tiiat I am induced to believe," said the 
 stranger, " that you really feel a stronger inclination 
 for a military life than for the more tranquil and 
 monotonous on-e of a pastor ; if that be the case, I 
 will use my influence with your mother to have your 
 mode of education altered." 
 
 " Your influence !" repeated Hector. " May I 
 presume to ask, how you come to possess any influ- 
 ence over my mother ?" 
 
 This unexpected question appeared for a moment 
 to discomfit the stranger; but he soon collected 
 himself, and said, " That is a question v.'hich I do not 
 think myself called upon at present to answer ;" and 
 he projected his head out of the window of the car- 
 riage, as if he were dubious of the road, or that he 
 was in expectation of meeting some particular object 
 of which he was in pursuit. On a sudden he called 
 to the coachman to stop, and then addressing him- 
 self to Hector, said, " Here is a pleasant shady 
 place ; let us dismount and partake of some refresh- 
 ment. Accordingly they descended from the car- 
 riage ; the stranger still held the pistol in his hand, 
 and he said to Hector, in a warning voice, " Mark 
 me ; if you attempt to escape, you wiU reduce me to 
 the severe extremity of firing at you." 
 
 Hector assured him he would not attempt to 
 escape ; " but," he added, " I should be a most silly 
 youth were I to entertain any fear of your pistol. I 
 know to a certainty that you would not fire at me 
 even were I to attempt to fly ; for how could you
 
 5G FITZALLAN. 
 
 answer to God and yoar conscience for having taken 
 away the life of an individual who never injured you, 
 and who but an hour ago was a perfect stranger to 
 you ? Your murderous act would not long remain 
 undiscovered, and your punishment in return would 
 be an ignominious death on the scaffold. Neither 
 my anxiety for my liberty, nor the excess of my filial 
 affection can warrant you in the commission of so 
 heinous a crime ; and of a criminal act I defy you to 
 prove me guilty. Therefore I will remain with you 
 divested of all fear, but in return I expect that you 
 will keep your word with me, and reconduct me to 
 my mother. In the mean time, however, it would be 
 highly gratifying to me, if during our repast you 
 would disclose to me the plan which you have in 
 agitation against me. I cannot believe your design 
 to be bad, for I know not an individual whom I have 
 injured in the world, and consequently that I should 
 be the object of their revenge." 
 
 • The stranger smiled at this speech of Hector, and 
 placed his fingers on his lips, as if meaning to imply, 
 that he dare not be more communicative than he 
 had been. " If you be the youth," he said at last, 
 " which you seem to be, I will ere long place my 
 whole confidence in you." He then returned to the 
 carriage, and placed the pistol in one of the pockets. 
 " Now," said he, on joining Hector, *' dismiss all 
 fear, and partake of our wine and viands with a con- 
 tented heart." Hector required not a second invita- 
 tion, and he drank the glasses of wine which were 
 offered to him with the greatest glee. It however 
 struck him as a most suspicious circumstance, that
 
 FITZ ALLAN. 57 
 
 the stranger did not drink from the same bottle, and 
 Hector said to him, 
 
 " Will you not take a glass of the same wine of 
 which I have been drinking?" 
 
 " It is not a kind of wine," said the stranger, 
 " that suits my palate." 
 
 " I do not recollect," said Hector, " ever drinking 
 wine of so sweet a flavour." 
 
 " It is a wine," said ihe stranger, ^' more fitted for 
 youth than the intoxicating wine of which I am now 
 drinking ; but let us return to the carriage." 
 
 They had not proceeded far when Hector per- 
 ceived an unusual drowsiness stealing over him, and 
 he complained to the stranger, that he knew not how 
 to account for it, but he never lelt before so strong 
 an inclination to sleep. 
 
 " Sleep then, my boy," said the stranger ; " you 
 are as safe with me as in the arms of your mother. 
 I will watch over you, and protect you from harm." 
 
 Hector was however convinced that th-is tendency 
 to sleep was not natural ; and the certainty now 
 flashed upon him that some narcotic drug had been 
 incorporated with the wine. The very suspicion 
 aroused all his dormant fears, and he determined not 
 to sleep ; but notwithstanding all his endeavours to 
 keep awake the drowsiness increased upon him every 
 minute, and in a short time he fell fast asleep. 
 
 When he awoke all was dark around him ; and, 
 scarcely conscious of his actions, he uttered a loud 
 scream, indicative of surprise and fear. A voice 
 sounded from the adjoining room, '* Be still, be still;
 
 58 FITZALLAN. 
 
 you have nothing to fear. In a short time refresh 
 ment and light shall be brought you." 
 
 Hector now perceived that he was on a bed ; but 
 after waiting a considerable time, still no light was 
 brought. He still felt an unusual lassitude about 
 him, and had not his curiosity been strongly excited 
 to ascertain the exact nature of the place in which he 
 then was, he would most probably have reclined 
 himself to sleep again. He rose from his bed and 
 proceeded towards the window. The stars were still 
 shining in the firmament, though in the east the 
 first blush of day was breaking ; he opened the 
 window, and he now distinctly perceived that his- 
 apartment was situate on the third story of a very 
 large mansion : before him was spread an extensive 
 yard, one side of which was occupied by barns and 
 stables, and the whole enclosed by a wall too lofty 
 for any one to surmount without a ladder. He 
 distinctly heard the stamping of the horses in the. 
 stables, and the rattling of the chains of their 
 halters; and a sudden thought struck him, whether 
 as soon as it was sufficiently light, he could not find 
 his way into the yard, and mounting one of the 
 fleetest horses, make his escape to the residence of 
 his mother. Every thing he saw convinced him 
 that he was in the residence of some nobleman, but 
 still it was all a mystery to him for what possible 
 cause he could have been brought to such a place, or 
 in what manner his confinement could possess any 
 influence in the affairs of those who had been the 
 instruments of his caption.
 
 FITZALLAN. 59 
 
 He now distinctly heard the sound of footsteps on 
 the stairs, and he hurried back to his bed. On a 
 sudden the door opened, and a servant entered, 
 greeting him with a friendly good morning. Having 
 placed on a marble slab two wax lights in massy 
 silver candlesticks, he inquired what kind of refresh- 
 ment he could bring him. Hector preferred some 
 coffee, but, in an anxious tone, he inquired, " Where 
 am I r 
 
 " As you will see when day breaks," answered the 
 servant, " in the mansion of a nobleman ; and 
 what is still moje, amongst your best and sincerest 
 friends." 
 
 " But what is the name of the nobleman," asked 
 Hector, " and what are his intentions towards me?" 
 
 No answer was returned to these questions. The 
 servant abruptly turned his back, and left the 
 room. 
 
 Hector now took a survey of the apartment. It 
 was most splendidly furnished, and several paintings 
 adorned the walls. He had just begun to dress 
 himself when the servant returned, bringing the 
 coffee with him. 
 
 " It is yet very early," said the servant ; perhaps 
 when you have taken some refreshment you will 
 return to your bed, or shall I assist you in dressing 
 yourself?" 
 
 *' I cannot sleep," said Hector, " for my mind is 
 in a state of distraction. Am I to be left here alone ; 
 and shall I not soon be made acquainted with my 
 fate?" 
 
 *' May I beg of you," said the servant, *' not to
 
 60 FITZALLAN. 
 
 put any questions to me, for were it in my power 
 to answer them, I am strictly enjoined not to do 
 it." 
 
 " By whom is that injunction imposed on you?'* 
 asked Hector. 
 
 The servant left the room. 
 
 Hector seated himself at the table, and found 
 liimself considerably refreshed by his early breakfast. 
 He rose from his seat and examined the diiferent 
 •paintings, some of which excited his admiration on 
 ■account of their extraordinary beauty. On a sudden 
 •he stood as if transfixed to the g-round, for he saw a 
 picture which bore the most striking resemblance to 
 •his mother, and at the bottom of which was written 
 in large characters, The never to be fougotten" 
 -ONE. " Yes," he exclaimed, "it is, it is herself!'* 
 «ind he took the picture from its place that he might 
 examine it more minutely. *' Mother ! mother !" 
 he exclaimed, whilst his whole frame was violently 
 agitated, '" could you but speak, you would tell me 
 by what means your portrait came hither, and what 
 •particular part I am destined to act in this eventful 
 drama. But perhaps I am mistaken. Is it in reality 
 ray mother, and may there not be some other female 
 in the world who bears a strong resemblance to 
 her? But it is, it is the portrait of my mother; I 
 cannot be mistaken ; and in the place where so much 
 respect is paid to her portrait, it cannot fare ill with 
 her son." 
 
 " Hector," sounded a voice behind a glass door, 
 which in the interior was covered with green silk, 
 " yes, it shall not fare ill with thee here." Hector
 
 FITZALLAN. 61 
 
 started, and was near falling to the ground with 
 affright. The door opened, and a person entered, 
 wholly a stranger to him, but in whose deportment 
 was combined a dignity of manner, with an imcom- 
 mon display of benevolence and affection. " I am 
 sorry, my dear Hector," said he, "that a friendly and 
 well-intentioned exclamation should have created in 
 you this unnecessary alarm. Collect yourself, and 
 be assured, that if an angel of heaven were here, you 
 could not be in safer hands, nor where a more kind 
 and affectionate treatment will be observed towards 
 you. An unbounded affection uses not always the 
 requisite caution in its actions ; and you, you are one 
 of the greatest treasures which I possess in the 
 world. This frank avowal may appear astonishing 
 to you, for to you I am a perfect stranger ; you 
 never heard my name mentioned, although a few 
 hours after your birth you were well known to me. 
 Sorry, however, I am to say, that your stay here will 
 be very short ; that which was promised to you by 
 the stranger who separated you from your tutor shall 
 be religiously and punctually performed. Therefore 
 let us not fruitlessly spend the few hours that we 
 may be together in asking a number of questions 
 which your curiosity may prompt you to put, but 
 which, from prudential motives, I cannot answer. 
 Learn to look forward to the future with composure ; 
 many a germ is contained in its womb, which in a 
 short time will spring up as the root of your terres- 
 trial happiness. have been informed that you have 
 chosen the profession of a minister as your condition 
 in life. Every thing depends in this world on the
 
 62 FITZALLAN. 
 
 virtue and ability with which we perform our duty, 
 in whatever relation of life that duty may consist. 
 You have selected one of vast importance and re- 
 sponsibility, and one which, if properly sustained, is 
 always accompanied with honour and respect; pre- 
 pare to act up to its high functions with a becoming 
 spirit, in order that you may appear as one of its 
 brightest ornaments. Be a good, a moral, and a 
 useful man ; and then, and then only, will terrestrial 
 happiness be your fate. To me it would have been 
 far more pleasing had you chosen the profession of a 
 soldier ; but it appears it is not the will of your 
 mother, and I have no right to question any part of 
 her conduct. The reasons which may have actuated 
 your mother to refuse her acquiescence to my prayer, 
 which I have often made to her, to send you hither, 
 that my heart might be cheered by a sight of you, is 
 not for me to divine ; therefore, think not that I 
 presume to censure or upbraid her. If she considers 
 that I have been guilty of an act of unpardonable 
 aggression and violence in obtaining possession of 
 your person in the way I have done, I trust that her 
 forgiveness will not be refused me. But tell me, my 
 dear boy, did she never speak to you about your 
 father?" 
 
 *' Often," replied Hector, " has she spoken to me 
 of him , and whenever she has mentioned him I 
 have seen the tears trickle down her cheeks : but 
 it will never be my lot to see my poor father — but — 
 but—" 
 
 "Well, my boy," said the stranger, "what wouldst 
 thou say ?"
 
 FITZALLAN. 63 
 
 " Perhaps,*' said Hector, in a hesitating tone, — 
 ** you are my father." 
 
 " Your father !" said the stranger, " how could 
 such an extraordinary idea enter your mind as that I 
 should be your father ?" 
 
 Hector looked him fully in the face, and answered, 
 *' In the boudoir of my mother hangs a portrait, 
 before which she often stands, and sometimes she 
 kneels before it and weeps. She has informed me 
 that it is the portrait of my father, and I have been 
 accustomed to call it by that name from the very first 
 hour that my tongue could lisp the name of father. 
 Now, when I look on you, and compare in my ima- 
 gination your countenance with that portrait, it 
 appears to me that it must have been drawn for you, 
 so striking is the resemblance ; with the exception 
 that you are certainly more advanced in years." 
 
 *' Know, my dear Hector," said the stranger, in- 
 terrupting him, as if he were fearful that Hector 
 might say too much, " I am the brother of your father ; 
 we were born the same day, for we were twins. He 
 lost his life on his passage to America, and at his de- 
 parture, as his return was uncertain, he enjoined me 
 to supply the place of a parent towards you. Your 
 mother, however, from reasons best known to her- 
 self, forbade on my part all interference in your 
 education. She never was friendly towards me, and 
 it is in some degree, perhaps, my own fault, that the 
 schism between us has been prolonged to the present 
 time. Latterly, however, a kind of partial recon- 
 ciliation has taken place between us, but it is still to 
 me incomprehensible on what account she made it a
 
 64 
 
 FITZALLAN, 
 
 positive condition that I should not interfere in the 
 most remote degree in any matters in which you were 
 either immediately or remotely concerned. I have 
 fulfilled that condition in the most rigorous manner 
 until within these fourteea days, since which I re- 
 ceived from one of my friends, who travelled througb 
 
 D , and who there saw you, a most flattering 
 
 account of your character and dispositions. I also 
 was informed that you were on the point of visiting 
 your mother, and I despatched a confidential mes- 
 senger to her, entreating her that she would allow 
 you to spend a few days with me on your route : my 
 request w^as, however, most peremptorily refused. 
 I therefore had recourse to force, and now the whole 
 of this apparently mysterious business is unravelled 
 to you. On your ow^n account dismiss all fear, and 
 on that of your mother be also at rest, she has been 
 informed where you are ; and she is well assured 
 that here no injury will accrue to you." 
 
 The uncle of Hector paused, and for a short time 
 he seemed to be lost in the contemplation cf his 
 nephew. On a sudden his feelings seemed com- 
 pletely to overpower him. Tears started into his 
 eyes ; his emotions were too strong to be any longer 
 concealed : he threw his arms round Hector, and 
 said, " Yes, just so did my brother look in his youth ; 
 I see him now before me as he was in the heyday of 
 his younger years. Heaven has again given to me 
 in you what I lost in him." 
 
 During the whole of the day Hector was never 
 for a moment absent from his uncle, but to the sur- 
 prise of the former, he was never allowed to leave
 
 FITZALLAN. 65 
 
 the house ; his uncle conducted him through the 
 yarious apartments of his mansion, showed him all 
 ,the curiosities of the place, and spoke to him much 
 about the future, a great deal of which was, however, 
 to him highly enigmatical. As evening approached, 
 preparations were made for his departure. " I shall 
 accompany you a few miles," said the uncle, " and 
 then I shall leave you in the care of a confidential 
 messenger. I have ordered the necessary relays of 
 horses for you, and therefore no doubt exists in my 
 mind, that by to-morrow at this time you will be in 
 the arms of your mother. Tell her how you found 
 me, and the recepl.^ j have experienced ; inter- 
 cede with her for her forgiveness, and try if you 
 cannot effect a change in her dispositions towards 
 me. Above all, however, I entreat you be not com- 
 municative to your preceptor ; tell him not what you 
 here have seen, nor relate to him the subject of our 
 discourse. To your mother, however, disclose what- 
 ever you please." 
 
 It was now completely dark, and the same carriage 
 which had brought Hector to the house now drove 
 up to the door. Not a moment was lost ; the uncle 
 seated himself with Hector in the " ge, and it 
 drove off at a rapid rate. It was, however, remarked 
 by Hector, as not one of the least extraordinary of the 
 circumstances in which he appeared to be at present 
 involved, that a more than ordinary caution was ob- 
 served by his uncle in preventing him from catching 
 even a glimpse of the country through which they were 
 then passing. The blinds of the carriage were drawn 
 closely up, and to the frequent inquiries which Hector 
 
 YOL. I. F
 
 66 FITZALLAN. 
 
 made of the particular part of the country in which 
 they then were, not the slightest satisfactory answer 
 could be obtained. 
 
 It was near midnight when they arrived at a small 
 inn situate by the road-side, and the uncle said, 
 *' Here, my dear Hector, we must part ; further I dare 
 not travel with you. The same person, who is my 
 house-steward, and who brought you to my house, 
 will accompany you to your mother. Fear not, I 
 have confided you in good hands. In a little time 
 you will know me better, and you will then I hope 
 allow, that I worthily fulfil, as far as your mother 
 will permit me, the injunctions of your deceased 
 parent. Give this kiss for me to your mother, and 
 accept from me this purse of gold ; purchase with it 
 whatever can contribute to your advantage or amuse- 
 ment ; and now, my dear boy, farewell ; let it be your 
 endeavour to become an honourable and a virtuous 
 man, that you may be the joy of your mother in her 
 declining years." 
 
 Hector had scarcely time to thank his uncle for his 
 kindness, when the hostler entered, informing them 
 that the horses were to the carriage. With a joyful 
 heart Hector proceeded towards it, but his surprise 
 was great when he found already seated in it his 
 former companion, who appeared, whilst his uncle 
 was present, to treat him with uncommon respect and 
 condescension. " Farewell, my dear boy," said the 
 uncle. " Farewell," repeated Hector, and the car- 
 riage drove off. 
 
 " Now," said the steward, when they had pro- 
 ceeded a little way from the inn, " have not all my
 
 FITZALLAN. 67 
 
 words been verified ? Have you not become ac- 
 quainted with a most respectable and highly amiable 
 relation ? He will, I know, provide for your future 
 fortune, and I know not any circumstance that will 
 impart greater pleasure to him than to hear that you 
 are a good and a virtuous man. It is, however, my 
 duty to inform you that I have received the most 
 positive orders not to deliver you myself into the 
 arms of your mother, but I have been instructed to 
 set you down about a mile from your mother's resi- 
 dence. Will that be agreeable to you?" 
 
 " If I be only so near my mother as a mile," said 
 Hector, " I will soon find out the rest of my way." 
 
 The conversation now took a desultory turn ; 
 Hector was of course at times very inquisitive, but 
 his companion appeared by no means disposed to 
 be very communicative, and both of them seemed at 
 last to occupy themselves with their own thoughts. 
 In regard to Hector, his whole soul appeared to be 
 agitated by doubt, suspicion, and distrust. He had 
 innumerable questions to put to his mother, which 
 she, and she only, could answer, and which in his 
 opinion she could not refuse to answer. Taking into 
 consideration the whole of her conduct, his mother 
 appeared to him in the most extraordinary light, nor 
 could he reconcile some traits of her character with 
 the ideal which he had formed to himself of moral 
 perfection. It was evident to him that she had told 
 him much which had no foundation in truth, but by 
 what motive could she be actuated to mislead him? 
 It was, however, his firm belief, notwithstanding his 
 assertion to the contrary, that the individual who had 
 f2
 
 68 FITZALLAN. 
 
 represented himself to be his uncle, was in reality 
 no other person than his father ; but still it was a 
 most difficult task for him to determine the exact 
 relation which existed between him and his mother. 
 One disadvantage, however, if such it may be called, 
 arose from his visit to his uncle, which was that 
 Hector now believed himself to be the sole heir to 
 an immense property, and perhaps also to a title, for 
 it was evident, whether the individual were his uncle 
 or his father, that his riches were great, and, on that 
 account, the profession of a humble minister pos- 
 sessed not now those attractions in his eyes which it 
 dtd formerly, and he began to reflect whether, in 
 reality, the bustle and activity of a military life 
 would not present to him greater pleasures than the 
 dull uniformity of a minister's vocation. 
 
 The morning broke. The sun arose in all its 
 splendour ; the earth appeared to glitter with millions 
 of gems, as every dew-drop on leaf or blade of grass 
 appeared a diamond. The morning air appeared to 
 affect Hector considerably with its coldness, and he 
 requested his conductor to allow him to dismount, 
 and to recreate himself by a little exercise. The 
 request was willingly granted, and they had not pro- 
 ceeded above a hundred paces, when they beheld a 
 carriage approaching them at a slow rate. On a 
 sudden, as the carriage was about to pass them, 
 Hector exclaimed, "My mother! my mother! it is 
 she ;" and he immediately left his conductor, and 
 was in a moment at the door of his mother's carriage. 
 The steward witnessed the aflPectionate manner in 
 which Hector was embraced by the lady in the coach,
 
 FITZALLAN. 69 
 
 and on the door being opened, Hector sprang into 
 the carriage. " Adieu," he exclaimed to his former 
 companion, " remember me kindly to my uncle. I 
 shall now return with my mother." The two carriages 
 were now turned in opposite directions, that of Mrs. 
 Fitzallan taking the route towards her residence, and 
 that of the uncle directing its course homewards. 
 
 Mrs. Fitzallan having embraced her son with all 
 the warmth of maternal affection, while tears of joy 
 ran down her cheeks, she said, " I have thee again 
 in my arms, my beloved boy, and in safety ; but tell 
 me what uncle was it of whom you were speaking, 
 it would be highly pleasing to me to know a little 
 more about him." 
 
 " Mother," said Hector, evidently under the in- 
 fluence of surprise, " what a singular question have you 
 now put to me ? Are you then not acquainted with 
 the uncle at whose house I have lately been on a 
 visit? You were just now on the direct road to his 
 residence, and was it not your intention to fetch me 
 away from him ? If he had but entertained the 
 slightest suspicion of your intention, he certainly 
 would not have parted with me so readily. His 
 kindness and goodness to me I am not able to de- 
 scribe ; it is, however, too true that I neither know 
 his name nor that of the place of his residence. I 
 however saw your portrait there, with the inscription 
 under it, The never to be forgotten one, and in 
 himself he bears a very strong resemblance to the 
 portrait of my father which hangs in your boudoir. 
 If he had not positively assured me that he was the 
 twin brother of my father, and had you not repeatedly
 
 70 FITZALLAN. 
 
 informed me of the death of my parent, I do not 
 believe any assertion either from his or your mouth, 
 could have induced me to think that he was not my 
 father. But, my dear mother, it appears to me a 
 most extraordinary circumstance, that you never 
 spoke to me of my noble and opulent uncle, and I 
 cannot divine the reason why you do not live with 
 him in terms of intimacy and friendship ; it appears 
 to be his desire, that if he has given you offence by 
 any of his actions, to make you every reparation in his 
 power. He speaks of you in the kindest, the most 
 affectionate manner, and entreated me to obtain your 
 forgiveness : but forgiveness, my mother, implies on 
 one side the commission of some injury, and what 
 did my uncle ever do to offend you? It is also his 
 wish, that I should relinquish the profession of a 
 minister, and embrace that of a soldier : will you 
 consent to it, mother?" 
 
 Mrs. Fitzallan, assuming a degree of composure 
 which was evidently forced, replied, " My dear 
 Hector, you have put such a number of questions to 
 me, that I know not how to answer them. It was a 
 most unjust and violent act on the part of your uncle to 
 take you away from me by force, and I cannot now dis- 
 close to you the reasons for not having spoken to you of 
 him before, but be assured those reasons are founded 
 on good and substantial grounds. If he be willing 
 to grant you his assistance, and I do not pretend to 
 deny that he has much in his power, be thankful for 
 it ; at the same time I do not hold it good for young 
 people to know that they have opulent relations, it 
 tends to make them vain, haughty, and indolent ;
 
 FITZALLAN. 71' 
 
 and that is one of the reasons why I concealed the 
 circumstance from you that you had a rich uncle. 
 It was wholly contrary to my wishes that you should 
 know of his existence, and therefore I invariably re- 
 fused his frequent invitations to allow you to visit 
 him ; on that ground I cannot overlook the forcible 
 manner in which he obtained possession of you. In 
 regard to the choice of your profession, do not allow 
 yourself to be dissuaded from becoming a minister. 
 The future will teach you that your mother was the 
 better counsellor of the two. Besides, which of the 
 two has the greater claim on your obedience ? Have 
 I not done much for you, and am I not willing to do 
 still more ? do not let the advice of others tear you 
 from my heart : be assured it is only an obedient 
 son who can become a happy man." 
 
 Hector on a sudden sunk into a deep fit of musing, 
 which his mother did not seem very desirous of in- 
 terrupting ; and during the remainder of the journey, 
 each seemed rather disposed to direct the conversation 
 into any other channel than that which had hitherto 
 engrossed their attention. 
 
 The travellers were now in sight of their home, 
 when Mrs. Fitzallan first broke the silence by imposing 
 the strictest injunction upon her son not to commu- 
 nicate the slightest intelligence to Mr. Bode respect- 
 ing his uncle. " I will certainly follow your instruc- 
 tions," said Hector, " but what shall I say if Mr. Bode 
 questions me on the subject ?" " Tell him the truth," 
 said Mrs. Fitzallan ; " tell him that I have forbidden 
 you to give any information to any one relative 
 to the late occurrences, and I know the honourable
 
 72 FITZALLAN. 
 
 disposition of Mr. Bode too well not to be convinced, 
 that after that information has been given to him, he 
 will not put another question to you." 
 
 The joy which the worthy tutor expressed on 
 seeing again his much-loved pupil was cordial and 
 sincere, and Mrs. Fitzallan said to him, " Every 
 thing, Mr. Bode, has passed off very agreeably with 
 my son. I met the parties bringing him back, as 
 they had discovered their error in his person ; it is 
 therefore my particular wish that you do not impor- 
 tune him with any questions in regard to what he 
 has seen or heard in his absence, and I have imposed 
 upon him the same restraint." 
 
 There are some people, who, in the fulness of their 
 own conceited wisdom, think to prevent a discovery 
 of their actions by some cobweb covering which their 
 ingenuity may have woven, which, however, so far 
 from effecting concealment, permits a full display of 
 them. However artful and skilful an individual may 
 suppose himself to be, and deep as he may consider 
 his plans to be laid for the accomplishment of any par- 
 ticular design, it not unfrequently happens, that the 
 very means which may have been chosen, are precisely 
 those of all others which tend to the frustration of 
 the plan. Had Mrs. Fitzallan been silent to Mr. 
 Bode upon the circumstances which had lately oc- 
 curred, or had she simply imposed upon her son the 
 closest secrecy, the whole affair would perhaps have 
 passed off, and have attracted no further notice : but 
 the very injunction which she laid upon Mr. Bode not 
 to make any inquiry, was positive conviction to him 
 that there were some very extraordinary circumstances-
 
 FITZALLAN. 73' 
 
 connected with the absence of her son, and that the 
 "whole explanation as given by herself, was decidedly- 
 founded on a desire to mislead. Still, however, his 
 disposition was too noble and liberal to allow him to 
 dive into the secrets of his employers, with this consi- 
 deration that as he was by no means implicated in any 
 of the transactions, he could not be made responsible 
 for any of the consequences. Mr. Bode very pru- 
 dently kept his suspicions confined within his own 
 breast, and neither directly nor indirectly could Mrs. 
 Fitzallan discover that Mr. Bode had interfered any 
 further in the affairs of the family than the duties 
 of his vocation compelled him.
 
 FITZALLAN. 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 She was his own, liis all ; the crowd may prove 
 
 A transient feeling, and misname it Love. 
 
 His was a higher impulse : — 'twas a part 
 
 Of the warm blood that circled through his heart j 
 
 A fervid energj' ; a spell that bound 
 
 Thoughts, wishes, feeUngs, — in one hallowed roimd. 
 
 One day, when Mrs. Fitzallan was with her son and 
 Mr. Bode in the drawing-room, she drew a letter 
 from her pocket ; but before she began to read it, 
 she said to the latter, " I do not think it advisable 
 that my son should return to his former seminary. 
 I have this morning received a letter from Professor 
 Thornton in Glasgow, to whom I wrote, with a re- 
 quest that he would receive my son as a member of his 
 college. He now writes to me, granting my request ; 
 but it is not my intention that he should repair thi- 
 ther without me. He shall merely attend the lec- 
 tures and other lessons of the college ; but for very 
 weighty reasons, which I cannot now divTilge, I have 
 resolved that he shall live in my own house : it is 
 my determination that he shall be under the imme- 
 diate superintendence of his mother. We will depart 
 immediately for Glasgow, and I will there live in 
 indissoluble union with my son. It is, however.
 
 FITZALLAN. 75 
 
 my earnest request that the place whither we are 
 going may not be made public in this neighbour^ 
 hood. Be it therefore your immediate business, 
 Mr. Bode, to pack up the whole of your property. 
 I have already despatched Philip to your former 
 residence at the university to bring away every thing 
 that belongs to you and Hector, and he has my in- 
 structions Regarding the exact place where he will 
 find us. 
 
 This sudden departure of Mrs. Fitzallan with her 
 son was no sooner known in the neighbourhood than 
 every mouth gaped with wonder, and every eye was 
 ready to start from the socket with surprise. Many 
 reports, by no means redounding to the purity of the 
 character of the lady, were immediately put into cir- 
 culation. That something extraordinary must have 
 happened to induce her so suddenly to break up the 
 whole of her establishment was most clear to every 
 one, but what that something was, or by what means 
 they could attain to the knowledge of it, set the 
 whole community in as great an uproar as if Riibe- 
 zahl had on a sudden paid them a visit from his 
 subterranean kingdom to select another virgin to 
 grace his rocky throne. Mrs. Fitzallan was by no 
 means ignorant of the many evil reports which the 
 spirit of detraction had circulated respecting her; at 
 the same time that she was conscious to herself that 
 she had not given the slightest cause for their founda- 
 tion ; she therefore gave herself very little concern 
 about them ; she allowed the tongue of scandal to 
 wag on until it was tired, or until some new accident 
 or some backsliding on the part of some member ol
 
 76 FITZALLAN, 
 
 their own community, hitherto deemed immaculate, 
 furnished them with a fresh topic for their evening 
 conversations. 
 
 The joy which Mrs. Fitzallan now experienced in 
 her son was such which a mother only can feel who 
 beholds a much loved son advancing to manhood, 
 adorned with every accomplishment which may be 
 considered an ornament to his nature. He had 
 stored his mind with useful knowledge, and in the 
 fine arts he had attained a proficiency seldom exhi- 
 bited at so early an age. He had particularly applied 
 himself to music ; the most celebrated works of the 
 great masters of the continent — of Mozart, of Beet- 
 hoven, and of Weber — were to him as familiar as his 
 national songs ; and, impelled by that romantic 
 enthusiasm so natural to youth, he would fancy 
 himself in those moments when under the influence 
 of the " magic of sweet sounds," as born for some 
 higher purposes than his present prospects presented 
 to him ; he felt within himself the latent sparks of a 
 genius which urged him to soar beyond the sphere 
 allotted to him, and to court a difficulty merely for 
 the satisfaction of overcoming it. 
 
 Hector had not been settled many days at Glas- 
 gow, when the conduct of his mother again excited 
 the surprise of Mr. Bode. She had left her country 
 residence for the avowed purpose of being constantly 
 with her son, and she had in fact made those regula- 
 tions which seemed to insure a permanent residence 
 in the town. One morning, however, she sent for 
 Mr. Bode, and thus addressed him : " I am only to 
 be compared to the seed shaken from the thistle's
 
 FITZALLAN. 77 
 
 head, driven about by every breath of wind, and 
 knowing not where to iind a resting place ; would 
 that it were allowed me to declare to you the reasons 
 for the step which I am now about to take, and which 
 must impress on your mind an unfavourable idea of 
 the firmness or consistency of my character ; but I am 
 the slave of circumstances, the subject of an iron 
 destiny which I cannot control. There is not a 
 page in the book of fate which has yet been unopened 
 in which my name is not written in dark and sombre 
 characters. I presume not to contend against a 
 power so tremendous, for opposition would only 
 perhaps increase the evil ; it is my duty to submit, 
 and therefore, my good friend, be not surprised when 
 I inform you that I shall return to-morrow to my 
 country residence, and there live in a state of positive 
 seclusion. The time will I hope come, and heaven 
 grant it may not be far distant, when the mystery 
 which now appears to accompany all my actions will 
 be solved, and you will then be able to form a proper 
 estimate of my character. Ask me no questions ; I 
 should perhaps be obliged to have recourse to false- 
 hood in my answers, and to that I had better not be 
 subjected. I shall depart early to-morrow, and I 
 request that you will desist from entering with my 
 son into any examination of the causes which may 
 have compelled me to this unexpected step." 
 
 Mr. Bode, although evidently under the influence 
 of astonishment, promised rigidly to obey the injunc- 
 tions of Mrs. Fitzallan, and on the following morning 
 she was on the way to her country residence. 
 
 We will not pretend to hft the veil which conceals
 
 78 FITZALLAN. 
 
 the mystery of Mrs. Fitzallan's conduct, but it is by 
 no means improbable that her sudden departure was 
 in some degree connected with the following circum- 
 stance. 
 
 One day, as Hector was leaving the college, he was 
 accosted by a stranger, whose manners and dress 
 bespoke him to belong to the middle class of society : 
 *' Is not your name Hector Fitzallan?" asked the 
 stranger. 
 
 " It is," replied Hector ; " and may I ask your 
 reason for the inquiry ?" 
 
 *' Accompany me,"' said the stranger, " to yonder 
 inn ; there you will meet with a merchant who has 
 an important communication to make to you." 
 
 " To what country does the stranger belong," 
 asked Hector ; " and to what am I to attribute this 
 unexpected invitation ?" 
 
 "I am the host of the inn," said the stranger ; 
 " and the merchant informs me that he comes from 
 America." 
 
 " From America !" exclaimed Hector ; " that is 
 rather surprising ; and how say you — he has an im- 
 portant communication to make to me ?" 
 
 " Such was his declaration to me," said the 
 host. 
 
 " But how came you to be acquainted with my 
 person?" asked Hector. 
 
 " I — I — " said the host, hesitating, " but come 
 with me, and I will then answer all your questions." 
 Hector, impelled by the force of curiosity, or 
 rather by a strong presentiment that the communi- 
 cation which the stransrer had to make had some
 
 FITZALLAN. 79 
 
 direct reference to his deceased parent, followed the 
 host to the inn. 
 
 On his arrival there he was conducted to a private 
 apartment, where he remained some minutes alone, 
 in a state of the most painful anxiety. At length the 
 door opened, and a tall, spare, emaciated man 
 entered, habited in a foreign costume, and addressing 
 himself at once to Hector, he said, " Am I to con- 
 sider that I am now addressing myself to Hector 
 Fitzallan ?" 
 
 " I am that person," answered Hector. 
 
 *' Then I pray you be seated," said the stranger, 
 *' for my business with you is of a most important 
 nature. Your mother and yourself both believe that 
 your father perished at sea, but I bring you the in- 
 telligence that he is now living." 
 
 " Living!" exclaimed Hector; *'my father living ! 
 Do not deceive me, I pray you, on a point of such 
 vast importance." 
 
 *' It is an indisputable fact," said the stranger ^ 
 " your father is now alive " 
 
 " Where then is he living," asked Hector, " that 
 I may hasten to him." 
 
 " On my departure from Philadelphia I conversed 
 V7ith him, and I now deliver you two letters ; one 
 addressed to your mother and one to yourself. If 
 you should feel any inclination to answer the letters, 
 in eight days I shall return through this place, you 
 vyill find me at this inn, and I will be the bearer of 
 your answer." 
 
 *' My father living !" exclaimed Hector, taking 
 the letters from the stranger. " And why," said he.
 
 ^0 FITZALLAN. 
 
 " did he not write before now to my mother ? Why- 
 does he not return ? and why does he not send for us 
 to join him in America? How shall I explain this? 
 How shall I decipher this enigma?" 
 
 " I am not able to solve it," said the stranger ; 
 " I presume not to interfere with the actions and 
 motives of others. I can only repeat to you the 
 offer, that I will most readily be the bearer of your 
 answer." 
 
 " But will you not inform me,'' said Hector — 
 " I pray you importune me not with your ques- 
 tions," said the stranger, interrupting him ; " I have 
 fulfilled the commission of your father, and am not 
 authorized by him to enter into any further explana- 
 tion with you. Business now calls me away : in eight 
 days you will find me here again. Adieu." 
 
 Thus saying, he abruptly left the room, lea%'ing 
 Hector in a state of the most profound astonishment. 
 Suddenly he roused himself, and hurried towards his 
 residence. Mr. Bode was fortunately absent ; and, 
 in a state of the utmost excitation, he broke the seal 
 -of his father's letter, and read as follows : 
 
 " Your father, whom you consider as dead, is still 
 living : it is his most fervent wish to press you to 
 his heart. Circumstances of the most painful and 
 ■distressing nature have long separated him from your 
 mother ; but never, never will she be forgotten. There 
 is scarcely an hour of the last eighteen years of his life 
 that he has not thought of her ; there is not a scene 
 which he has formed of future happiness in which 
 she did not appear as the most prominent figure. 
 Oh, that you would be my intercessor with her ! that
 
 FITZALLAN. 81 
 
 she could be induced to forgive his previous fault, 
 for which his atonement has been so severe. He im- 
 plores her again to bless him with her love ; he would 
 consider himself as the happiest of men if he could 
 only be permitted to live in her vicinity. He would 
 then immediately leave America, and the place of his 
 future abode should be left entirely to herself. 
 Riches he possesses in superfluity, and therefore he 
 has it in his power to conduce considerably to her 
 future comfort. Should you on the receipt of this 
 be at a distance from her, hasten to her immediately, 
 and the gratitude of your father towards you shall be 
 boundless. The bearer of this will on his return- 
 deliver to you a sum of money, which you will trans- 
 mit to your mother, and tell her that it is from one 
 who ever loved her, and who will never cease to love 
 her whilst in this world." 
 
 The contents of this letter made a powerful im- 
 pression on Hector. He was almost disposed to be 
 angry with his mother, as he attributed to her all 
 the blame of the separation from his father. He 
 determined, however, as far as himself was con- 
 cerned, to effect a reconciliation between his parents. 
 His impatience to communicate to his mother what 
 he supposed would be most gratifying intelligence 
 to her, would not allow him to await the return of 
 Mr. Bode. He therefore wrote a note to him, in- 
 forming him of the circumstance, hired a horse, and 
 he was many miles on his journey when Mr. Bode 
 returned. 
 
 Mr. Bode read the note of Hector, which was 
 almost a transcript of his father's letter ; but he shook 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 FITZALLAN. 
 
 his head significantly, and merely said, " This is 
 indeed one of the dark ways of destiny which I will 
 not pretend to explore, for I should perhaps find my- 
 self in a labyrinth, in which I should be ultimately lost." 
 
 On the arrival of Hector at his mother's, he was 
 informed that she had been suddenly takei) ill on the 
 preceding night, and that she was then confined to 
 her bed; not wishing to come upon his mother 
 unawares, he desired one of her attendants to apprize 
 her of his arrival, and in the mean time he went to 
 the stable to see that his horse was properly attended 
 to ; but how great was his surprise, when, in the 
 stable-yard, he saw the very coach belonging to his 
 uncle in >vhich he had been carried away from Mr. 
 Bode. He inquired of one of the grooms at what 
 time the carriage arrived, and the company that came 
 in it ; but had Hector put the question to one of the 
 pupils of an asylum for the deaf, he would have re- 
 ceived just as satisfactory an answer. He then 
 applied to another domestic ; still the same ignorance 
 was manifest. Hector now plainly perceived that 
 secrecy was imposed on the servants, and he there- 
 fore forbore importuning them any further. 
 
 He was now summoned into the presence of his 
 mother, who embraced him in the most affectionate 
 manner, and inquired the cause of his most unex- 
 pected visit. 
 
 " Perhaps," said Hector, " tlie joyful tidings which 
 I have to communicate to you, will be too much for 
 you to bear in your present state of health." 
 
 " Not at all," said Mrs. Fitzallan ; " I am fully 
 prepared to hear all you have to impart to me."
 
 riTZALLAN. 83 
 
 Hector now informed his mother of the import of 
 his interview with the American, and delivered to her 
 the letters of his father ; but Mrs. Fitzallan imme- 
 diately said, " It gives me pleasure," my dear Hector, 
 " to observe that you love a father whom you never 
 saw ; but do not allow yourself to be imposed upon. 
 I declare to you most solemnly, and were these the 
 last words which I am now speaking on my death- 
 bed, that your father no longer lives in Philadelphia, 
 But what is the import of his letter to you ?" 
 
 " It appears," said Hector, " to be his principal 
 wish that I should be the intercessor between you, 
 and that you would again render him happy by 
 your love. He acknowledges the fault which has 
 excited your displeasure ; he repents of it, and im- 
 plores your pardon. Will you not forgive him, my 
 "dear mother, and let us live in happiness and concord 
 for the remainder of our existence ?" 
 
 " Believe me, my dear Hector," said his mother, 
 " the whole is the invention of some wicked designing 
 individual, who has some sinister view of his own to 
 accomplish, by representing me to you in a disad- 
 vantageous light, and thereby alienate your affec- 
 tions from me. I am not angry with your father ; I 
 have long since forgiven him ; and if he were alive I 
 would press him with the purest love to my heart." 
 
 She iiad scarcely pronounced these words, when, 
 to the evident alarm of Mrs. Fitzallan, but, on the 
 contrary, to the joyful surprise of Hector, his uncle 
 entered the room. He had arrived the preced- 
 ing day at the residence, and now presented himself 
 most unexpectedly before Mrs. Fitzallan had had 
 g2
 
 84 FITZALLAN. 
 
 time to apprize her son that his uncle was actually 
 in the house. On his entrance the uncle said, " This 
 is a most agi'eeable meeting, my dear boy: your 
 mother has undoubtedly apprized you of my presence 
 here, and now wishes to impart to me an unexpected 
 pleasure. You are welcome, my dear boy," shaking- 
 him cordially by the hand. 
 
 Before Hector could enter into any further con- 
 Yersation with his uncle, Mrs. Fitzallan said to him, 
 *' Can you form any idea of the gross imposition which 
 has been practised upon Hector : some stranger has 
 been attempting to persuade him that his father still 
 lives in Philadelphia, and he has just now delivered 
 me a letter from him. I am glad you are here, as 
 you will be able to decide if it be in the handwriting 
 of your brother: do, I pray you, give my son your 
 candid opinion of it." 
 
 The uncle took the letter, and examined it atten- 
 tively. He then said, " I will positively maintain 
 that the superscription is not the handwriting of my 
 brother, but still it is not wholly strange to me, nor 
 do I think that it will be so to you. But will you 
 not read the letter ? you must be curious to know its 
 contents." 
 
 JSirs. Fitzallan perused the letter, but she could 
 not stifle her emotions, and tears ran down her 
 cheeks. Hector now exclaimed, *' Mother, have you 
 now any doubt that this letter is from my father, and 
 that he still lives ?" 
 
 " I doubt of both," said Mrs. Fitzallan, with a 
 trembling voice ; "but in the perusal of this letter the 
 scenes of former days rush upon my memory ; scenes
 
 FITZALLAN. 85 
 
 of my earliest, greatest happiness, but which are 
 passed never to return. It has opened many a cell 
 where remembrance sleeps, and has torn open afresh 
 many a wound which I thought was closed for ever. 
 But that the letter is not from your father the signa- 
 ture will attest." 
 
 It was like the letter of Hector, signed with a 
 simple D. " But," exclaimed Hector, " for what 
 purpose is this cruel game played with me. It is 
 infamous to excite a hope in a human heart, which 
 has no prospect of ever being realized." 
 
 It was now evident that Mrs. Fitzallan was desi- 
 rous of directing the conversation into a different 
 channel, for she said, " Your uncle, my dear Hector, 
 heard of my illness, and his anxiety about me urged 
 him to pay me this visit : there is now no longer any 
 misunderstanding between us ; a complete recon- 
 ciliation has taken place, and you are at liberty to 
 visit him whenever you please ; but still I should 
 not wish you ever to do it without my knowledge, 
 and I have no objection, when my health is restored, 
 to accompany you thither. Wait, however, a little 
 time, and his name and place of residence shall be 
 made known to you." 
 
 " I cannot divine," said Hector, " why a circum- 
 stance, which is known to many, should be just con- 
 verted into a secret with me. There is not a 
 domestic in the whole establishment of my uncle, 
 were I to inquire of him, who has it not in his power 
 to satisfy my curiosity in every point to the utmost." 
 
 " Curb that curiosity for a while," said Mrs. Fitz- 
 allan ; " were you at present to be made acquainted
 
 OD FITZALLAN. 
 
 Tvith certain particulars, it might prove the death 
 of—" 
 
 At this moment the family physician was an- 
 nounced, which broke the thread of Mrs. Fitzalian's 
 speech, and left Hector in a state of the most intense 
 anxiety. He regarded the physician as a positive 
 intruder ; for never was a visit, as far as regarded 
 himself, more unfortunate. He, however, obeyed 
 the command of his mother to leave the room, but he 
 secretly hoped that his uncle would prolong his stay, 
 as from him he hoped to obtain some information 
 respecting the authenticity of his father's letter. In 
 this, however, he was completely disappointed ; for 
 Jiis uncle, so far from entering into any confidential 
 intercourse with him, appeared to shun every oppor- 
 tunity of being alone with him ; and on the following 
 morning before day-break the uncle departed, with- 
 out having even bidden farewell to his nephew, or 
 even of having informed him of his intended de- 
 parture. When Hector mentioned these circum- 
 stances to his mother, she merely replied, that his 
 uncle was a man of very eccentric habits, and that 
 she possessed not the slightest control over his 
 actions. 
 
 Hector remained a few days with his mother, and 
 then returned to college ; but he was not the bearer 
 of any letter from her to his father in America, be- 
 cause she said it was her firm conviction that he was 
 no longer living in that country. She also added, 
 *' You will find, my son, that the pretended American 
 will not return to the inn for your answer, and on 
 that you may depend; therefore give yourself no
 
 FITZALLAN. 87 
 
 further trouble about your answer to your supposed 
 father's letter." 
 
 Hector was, however, the bearer of a letter frora 
 his mother to Mr. Bode, who, on meeting Hector, said, 
 "If you had imparted to me the imposition which 
 some designing knave has practised upon you, I 
 would have spared you the trouble of your journey.'* 
 
 *' I do not however regret having taken it," said 
 Hector, " for I found my uncle with my mother ; 
 and I am able to impart to you the pleasing intel- 
 ligence, that a perfect reconciliation has taken place 
 between him and my mother." 
 
 " With your uncle !" exclaimed Mr. Bode, appa- 
 rently greatly astonished ; "that is to me indeed most 
 gratifying information." 
 
 " But," said Hector, " it is still to me an inexpli- 
 cable enigma that I should be kept in ignorance of 
 the name of my uncle and the place of his abode. 
 If you be privy to either, I implore you make me 
 acquainted with them. I solemnly vow to you that 
 I will never divulge either of them." 
 
 " I declare I am ignorant of both," said Mr. Bode. 
 " Your mother never condescended to speak to me 
 on the subject, and I do not consider that I am 
 invested with any right to interfere in family affairs.'* 
 
 Hector now delivered to Mr. Bode the letter of his 
 mother, and Mr. Bode retired to an adjoining room 
 to peruse it undisturbed. In a short time he re- 
 turned, and said, " I find in this letter that it is the 
 wish of your mother that you should confine yourself 
 to the study of theology ; and further, that you do 
 not allow yourself to be diverted from it by the advice
 
 88 FITZALLAN. 
 
 or impertinent interference of strangers. It is most 
 probable that, in a few months, we shall set out on 
 an agreeable journey." 
 
 *' My mother," exclaimed Hector, " never men- 
 tioned a word to me of such an intention." 
 
 " Perhaps," said Mr. Bode, " she had not defi- 
 nitively made up her mind to it, and therefore con- 
 sidered it useless to speak to you about it." 
 
 Hector was, however, not satisfied with this ex- 
 planation ; and he was now convinced that his 
 mother had so far implicated Mr. Bode in the events 
 which were now passing, and that he was enjoined 
 to so strict a secrecy, that to attempt to extract any 
 information from him was a positive waste of time. 
 He therefore desisted from importuning him with 
 any further questions; and at no future time did 
 Mr. Bode show any disposition to touch upon the 
 affairs of his mother, or be in the least communicative 
 respecting them.
 
 FITZALLAN. 89 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 I stood amid the glittering throng, 
 
 I heard a voice, its tones were sweet, 
 I turned to see from whence they canne. 
 
 And gazed on all I longed to meet. 
 She was a fair and gentle girl, 
 
 Her bright smile greeted me by chance, 
 I whispered low, I took her hand, 
 
 I led her forth to dance. 
 
 The mind of Hector was now evidently in a dis- 
 tracted state; he often visited the inn, and inquired 
 for the American, who was to be the bearer of his 
 answer to his father ; but to his great surprise, in- 
 stead of meeting with the stranger, a letter was one 
 day delivered to him, which, according to the report 
 of the host, was left at his house by a servant dressed 
 in very rich livery, and who evidently belonged to 
 the establishment of some person of exalted rank. 
 Full of curiosity. Hector broke the seal, but his sur- 
 prise was boundless, when he recognised the same 
 handwriting as that of the letter which was pretended 
 to be written by his father from America. At the 
 head of the letter stood the following words in large 
 characters : 
 
 " HEAR, SEE, AND BE SILENT. 
 '* Your father lives, and were the combined world
 
 90 FITZALLAN. 
 
 to tell you that he is dead, attach no credit to it. 
 He watches all your steps. You are surrounded by 
 men who are in his pay, and who transmit to him a 
 weekly account of your conduct. Hitherto he has 
 had no reason to complain of you ; but be upon your 
 guard, you have an enemy in the neighbourhood, who 
 sooner or later will involve you in an unpleasant 
 quarrel. Show yourself brave and firm against him ; 
 force him to respect and esteem you, for any pusilla- 
 nimity on your part would only expose you to re- 
 newed insults. I am not ignorant of your having 
 spent a day with my brother, and I could say that 
 I am privy to other circumstances than that. I 
 should, however, involve both your mother and your- 
 self in the greatest misery, were I to emerge at pre- 
 sent from my obscurity. It is necessary that the 
 world should believe, at least for some time, that 
 neither of you partake of the slightest relationship 
 with me. The 1 0th of July is your birth-day. I 
 shall celebrate it by a fete ; you will be invited to it 
 with your tutor, and on no account must you decline 
 the invitation. You will see me there, but it will 
 not be in my power to make myself known to you. 
 Impart not the contents of this letter to any one — not 
 even to your mother. Act nobly ; be on your guard, 
 and remember the 10th of July. D." 
 
 Hector perused the letter several times, and each 
 time his astonishment increased. It was impossible 
 for him in his present frame of mind to repair to 
 Mr. Bode, as his countenance wovild betray the 
 agitated state of his feelings. He hurried out at 
 one of the gates of the city, and sought a retired
 
 FITZALLAN. 91 
 
 place where he could give unrestrained vent to his 
 feelings, and cogitate in secret over the mysterious 
 situation in which he was placed. 
 
 " Then," says he, " my father does actually live ! 
 he has himself informed me of it ; and more than all, 
 that he is in my immediate vicinity ; but how can I 
 reconcile this information with that which he sent me 
 but a week ago, that he was still living in Philadel- 
 phia ? Is not this a decisive proof that the whole 
 is an imposition ? But of what advantage can it be 
 to any one to impose upon me by such gross false- 
 hoods ? He warns me against an enemy. I know 
 of no one whom I have offended ; but the 10th of 
 July will determine it, whether a secret has been im- 
 parted to me in which I can place any belief. But 
 what must be my opinion of my mother ? what shall 
 I say to her ? Is she, or is she not ignorant that my 
 father lives, and does she keep it a secret from me on 
 account of some prudential motive, or until permis- 
 sion be granted to her by my father?'* 
 
 Embarrassed with these conflicting sentiments, not 
 one of which conducted him to a satisfactory result, 
 he returned home, and on meeting Mr. Bode the 
 latter said, " You have placed me in great alarm 
 about you, my dear boy. Your protracted and 
 unusual absence gave rise to some very unpleasant 
 feelings about your safety ; I know not how to account 
 for it, but some late events appear to run in a very 
 eccentric course, nor am I able to discover their end 
 or aim. I have now to inform you that we are in- 
 vited to a ball, and what is very remarkable, it is 
 on the lOLh of July, your birth-day. I could not
 
 92 FITZALLAN. 
 
 definitively accept the invitation without your concur- 
 rence, and therefore I merely sent a conditional 
 answer to this effect, that if no unforeseen accident 
 occurred in the mean time, we would accept the 
 invitation." 
 
 " Who then gives the ball ?" asked Hector. 
 • *' The name which is written underneath," an 
 swered Mr. Bode, " is such a perfect scrawl, that I 
 cannot decipher it. Here is the card of invitation." 
 
 Hector attempted to make out the signature, but 
 it was a task too difficult for him to accomplish ; 
 he however ascertained that several of the most re- 
 spectable families of the city were invited, as well 
 also as a great portion of the members of the college, 
 who were allied to families of the most exalted rank. 
 Hector now lost not a moment in making some in- 
 quiries in the proper place respecting the name of 
 the individual who was to give the ball, and the cur- 
 rent report was, that it was given by a General 
 Hamilton in honour of the celebration of the marriage 
 ■of his daughter with Major Denison. He had heard 
 of General Hamilton, and also of the approaching 
 nuptials of his daughter, but according to the con- 
 tents of the letter which had been left for him at the 
 inn, his father expressly stated that the fete was to 
 be given by himself, in honour of the birth-day of 
 his son. He could not beheve General Hamilton to 
 be his father, for there were several circumstances 
 which had a positive tendency to contradict it. He 
 had been for a considerable time a resident in the 
 city, his connexions and the previous circumstances 
 of his life were all well known, and Hector also
 
 "FITZALLAN. 93 
 
 ascertained that the general had never been in Ame- 
 rica ; independently of which, the very age of the 
 general precluded the idea of him being his parent. 
 Hector was, however, convinced that the general was 
 in some degree implicated in the plot which was 
 then secretly carrying on, for to his great surprise, 
 a few days after he had received the invitation to the 
 ball, he received one from the general himself to a 
 concert at his own house, and Mr. Bode was also 
 included in the invitation. Here, thought Hector, 
 J shall obtain some clue as to the name of the iden- 
 tical person who ,is to give the ball, where I am to 
 see my father ; and with an anxious palpitating heart 
 he repaired to the house of the general. There he 
 found several noble families assembled, and he cast 
 his eyes to every quarter of the room, with the hope 
 of discovering some one whose look and figure might 
 correspond with the portrait which hung in his^ 
 mother's boudoir ; but the assembly was chiefly 
 composed of young people, the majority of whom 
 were- entire strangers to Hector, nor was there a 
 single individual whose conduct indicated the least 
 reserve or embarrassment. It did not, however, 
 escape the observation of Hector, that he appeared 
 to be selected by the general as the pecuhar object of 
 his attention and regard, and when supper was con- 
 cluded, and dancing proposed, the general took 
 Hector confidentially by the hand, and led him into 
 an adjoining apartment, where he thus addressed 
 him : " You must be naturally surprised, my dear 
 Fitzallan, at your having received an invitation to my 
 house, without any previous acquaintance, nor even 
 
 V
 
 9i FITZALLAN. 
 
 a common introduction, but that surprise will in a 
 great degree subside when I inform you, that your 
 father was the companion of my youth, and that it 
 was only a few days ago that I heard you were his 
 son ; I am certainly aware that you do not bear his 
 name, but that is done from very prudential motives." 
 
 " What then is the real name of my father?" asked 
 Hector. 
 
 " I also know your mother and your grandmother," 
 continued the general, w^ithout apparently paying any 
 attention to the question of Hector ; " I resided 
 during several years in the same place with him, but 
 it is now about twenty years ago since we parted ; I 
 must however, say thus much, that you must put 
 all your powers to the fullest stretch, if you expect 
 to tread in the steps of your father, and to supply 
 that place in the world which will be one day vacant 
 by his death." 
 
 "My father is then in reality alive ?" asked Hector. 
 
 "As far as I know he is alive," answered the 
 general. 
 
 " My mother assures me, however," said Hector, 
 *' that he was drowned on his passage to America." 
 
 *' I do remember now,'* said the general, " having 
 heard a report to that effect, and your mother must 
 certainly know better than I whether your father be 
 dead or alive. It is not in my power to give a 
 decided opinion on the subject." 
 
 " He has written to me this very day," said Hector, 
 *' to inform me that he is still living." 
 
 *' Do not harass yourself with these perplexing 
 doubts and conjectures," said the general ; " I am cou
 
 FITZALLAN. 95 
 
 vinced that in a little time the whole mystery will be 
 explained to you." 
 
 *' There is then a mystery ?" asked Hector. " And 
 allow me to ask you, sir, is the ball to which I have 
 the honour of being invited, and at which I am 
 informed that I shall see my father ?" 
 
 At this critical moment the door opened, and Fre- 
 derick Campbell, the nephew of the general, entered, 
 and said, " Do not, my dear uncle, keep Fitzallan so 
 long from the ball-room, his presence is indispensable 
 to us ;" and taking Hector by the hand, he led him 
 away without the slightest opposition on the part of 
 the general, who, on the contrary, appeared rather 
 pleased at the interruption. On leaving the room, 
 Campbell said to Hector, "You must guard your 
 heart well to-uight, my dear friend, for the beautiful 
 daughter of the Earl of Glencoe is in the ball-room ; 
 never before have my eyes beheld such a superlative 
 beauty. I have danced with her twice, and in reality 
 I thought I had an inhabitant of heaven for my 
 partner. Take care, Hector, that her charms do not 
 involve you in as many difficulties as the beauty ot 
 Helen did of old your namesake." 
 
 " Believe me," said Hector, " I am not so great a 
 fool as to fall in love with the daughter of an earl ; 
 ■would it not be the height of presumption in me, a 
 humble student of divinity ?" 
 
 " I think every man," said Campbell, " who sees 
 Amelia Fortescue must, in spite of himself, be a stu- 
 dent of divinity. I am certain that her Creator, when 
 he gave the last finish to her form, could scarcely tel 
 whether he had made an angel or a mortal."
 
 96 ' FITZALLAN. 
 
 " You are most exuberant in her praise," said 
 Hector, " and your very eulogium shows me how 
 ridiculous it would be in me to aspire to the hand of so 
 great a beauty, with the knowledge that she must be 
 surrounded by suitors of far more valid pretensions 
 than any to which I can lay claim ; would she not 
 look down upon me from her exalted station, and 
 laugh at me for ray temerity ? And farther, I have 
 always entertained the opinion, that a great disparity 
 of station is the cause of many unhappy marriages,'* 
 
 " Not if real love were the basis of them," said 
 Campbell. 
 
 " I consider real love, as you term it,'' said Hector, 
 *' to be a chimera ; it is very like an apparition, every 
 one talks of it, but no one has seen it." 
 
 It must, however, be allowed that Hector Fitz- 
 allan differed in a very striking degree from the 
 majority of young men, who are in general too prone 
 to entertain a better opinion of themselves than they 
 in reality deserve, or which other people are inclined 
 to entertain for them. His figure, his qualifications, 
 and his manners, were such as could not fail to make 
 an impression on every female heart, for although he 
 appeared not to court admiration, nor to deem him- 
 self worthy of it, yet he stole, as it were insensibly,, 
 into the good opinion of those with whom he asso- 
 ciated, and having once gained that good opinion, he 
 knew how to maintain and improve it. He was not 
 f>ne of those vain and flattering coxcombs, a kind of 
 centaur, half male, half female, who think that a 
 punctiHous attention to the tying of a cravat, or the 
 adjustment of a lock of hair, entitles them to admi-
 
 FITZALLAN. 97 
 
 ration and respect. Under the tuition of Mr. Bcde 
 he had imbibed some well-founded ideas of the real 
 dignity of the human character ; he knew its consti- 
 tuent principles, and he was never known to sacrifice 
 one of them at the shrine of fashionable folly. 
 ',. When Hector and his friend entered the room, a 
 country dance had just finished : some portion of the 
 company were engaged in conversation, but the 
 greater part were collected round a piano-forte, on 
 which a young lady was playing, who, Hector was 
 informed, was no less a personage than the idol of 
 the evening, the beautiful Amelia Fortescue. The 
 crowd had hitherto prevented Hector from obtaining 
 a glimpse of her person, but being passionately fond 
 of music, he separated from his friend, and hastened 
 towards the instrument. Lady Amelia was just at 
 that moment playing one of the brilliant passages 
 from the opera of Urania, and when the eye of Hector 
 first fell on the lovely performer, a kind of electric 
 fire seemed to pervade his whole frame. He stood 
 as if the horn of Oberon had enchanted him, fixed 
 and immovable — all sense, all feeling seemed to be 
 combined in one, and that one was deep and glowing 
 admiration of the splendid beauty which was spread 
 before him. He had followed beauty in various 
 relations ; he had seen it in the enthusiastic moment 
 of self-devotion, he had witnessed it in that most 
 eloquent of all moments, when a bewitching melan- 
 choly steals over the countenance, and a tear trembles 
 on the eye-lash, the guilty tell-tale of a wounded 
 heart. But when the full chords of harmony burst 
 upon his ear, and those chords were struck by a 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 FITZALLAN. 
 
 hand that was worthy to strike the strings of a harp 
 of heaven, the association appeared to hold com- 
 plete dominion over his senses, and at this moment 
 had the figure of his father started before him, it would 
 have been rejected as scarcely worthy of a thought. 
 
 Lady Amelia rose from the instrument, and cast 
 her eyes with maiden bashfulness to the ground. It 
 was the first time that she had ventured to play 
 before an assembled company, and she well knew 
 that she was but yet a scholar in the science. She 
 was immediately joined by a pretty, lively girl, who, 
 Hector was informed, was the companion and friend 
 of Lady Amelia. On passing the spot where Hector 
 stood, she said to one of the company, *' It is true 
 that Lady Amelia cannot be called a proficient in the 
 science, but the applause which she has received this 
 night will, I have no dcubt, act as a stimulus to her 
 to perfect herself in so elegant an accomplishment. 
 If, however, I be not mistaken in the name, I under- 
 stand there is a gentleman in the room of the name 
 of Fitzalian, who possesses great skill on the piano- 
 forte, with the advantage of a finely m.odulated voice." 
 
 " It would give me great pleasure to hear him 
 play," said Lady Amelia. 
 
 " My dear Lady Amelia," said Mrs, Hamilton, 
 the wife of the general, " Mr. Fitzalian is one ot 
 my present visitors, and I have not the slightest 
 doubt that at your request he will not hesitate a 
 moment to favour us with a specimen of his skill. 
 It will give me pleasure to introduce him to you." 
 
 Hector during this time was standing at the piano- 
 forte, turning over the leaves of a music book, wheu
 
 FITZALLAN. 99 
 
 on a sudden he was accosted by Mrs. Hamilton, who 
 having introduced Lady Amelia to him, solicited him 
 to favour them with the overture to the Freischiitz. 
 
 " I must, though unwillingly, refuse your request, 
 madam," said Hector, in the most respectful manner ; 
 *' were I to play I should be guilty either of rudeness 
 or presumption." 
 
 " How so, Mr. Fitzallan ?" asked Lady Amelia, 
 " we will willingly absolve you from the charge of 
 both, and the penalty which we will inflict upon you 
 for your imagined fault shall be our thanks," 
 
 *' That were indeed a severe penalty," said Hector. 
 " But you will allow, Lady Amelia, that I should be 
 guilty of presumption, were I to imagine that I 
 possess greater skill than yourself, and I should 
 certainly be guilty of rudeness were I to attempt to 
 surpass you. I therefore feel myself placed in rather an 
 embarrassing situation, from which 1 dare only relieve 
 myself in the best possible manner, by choosing the 
 least of two evils, and rather appear unkind than 
 rude and presumptuous." 
 
 " You have a very happy talent of extricating 
 yourself from your supposed predicament," said Mrs. 
 Hamilton, " the general would call it a skilful ma- 
 noeuvre, but you shall not escape so easily." 
 
 " Do let me entreat you to play," said Lady 
 Amelia, " and in regard to surpassing me, do try and 
 be as rude as you can." 
 
 This was said with so much naivete and pleasing 
 
 affability, that Hector could no longer refuse the 
 
 solicitation, and seated himself at the instrument. It 
 
 was some time before he could sufficiently collect 
 
 h2
 
 100 FITZALLAN. 
 
 himself. Amelia Fortescue stood by his side in all 
 the fulness of her angel beauty ; he thought he heard 
 the throbbings of her heart, wild and irregular in its 
 beatings, as if under the influence of some mighty 
 passion. There was something in the very air around 
 him which appeared to animate his spirits ; his whole 
 soul was fired with one desire, and that desire was 
 to please Amelia Fortescue. The brilliancy of his 
 execution astonished the audience ; his combinations 
 possessed an originality which could only be the 
 offspring of an inspired genius, and his finale was 
 crowned with the most rapturous applause. The 
 thanks of Amelia were a sufficient reward for his ex- 
 ertions, and she declared, that as far as regarded 
 herself, he had shown himself the rudest person in 
 the room ; but, she added, with a smile for which an 
 anchoret might almost have been tempted to forget 
 his vow, " I promised to forgive you," and then ten- 
 dering her hand, " you have my pardon for all your 
 rudeness." 
 
 This was one of the bright moments in the life of 
 Hector Fitzallan, which is remembered even on the 
 brink of the grave. In the gloom of despondency 
 or the darkness of grief, such moments as these 
 shine as some brilliant stars in the firmament, when 
 all the rest are shrouded in the mists of the night. 
 
 Preparations were now made to resume the dance, 
 but Hector did not presume to soHcit the hand of 
 Lady Amelia, but selected a partner who appeared to 
 him of humbler rank ; but when it came to his turn 
 to take the hand of Lady Amelia in the dance, he 
 knew not how to account for it, but by some involun-
 
 FITZ ALLAN. 101 
 
 tary motion he could not refrain from pressing it ; 
 whether the pressure was returned, is one of those 
 problems which now can never be solved ; but what- 
 ever the cold-blooded cynic may say, there is scarcely 
 a sensation more voluptuous or more thrilling than 
 that which two lovers experience whose hands meet 
 together for the first time ; there is then a language 
 told which no ear can hear, but 'tis felt to the heart's 
 core, and fills it with an ecstasy, the foretaste of the 
 bliss of heaven. 
 
 The dance was finished, and Hector was sitting 
 on a sofa, his eyes directed to one point of the room, 
 and what that point contained may be easily divined, 
 when the sprightly Julia Manners, the friend of Lady 
 Amelia, came tripping towards him. "About what 
 are you philosophizing, Mr. Fitzallan ?" she said ; 
 " you appear amongst the gay to be the least gay.'* 
 
 " Pardon me," said Hector, "but you lie under a 
 great mistake, I never enjoyed greater happiness in 
 my Hfe." 
 
 "Why then," said Julia, "do you put on such a 
 dolorous Don-Quixote-like countenance?'' 
 
 " Because," Hector replied, " I was thinking how 
 short the duration of that happiness may be ?" 
 
 " The same objects," said Julia, " which confer 
 that happiness to-night, may perhaps continue to 
 grant it in future." 
 
 " That is the very subject of my meditations," said 
 Hector, " and also of my fears." 
 
 "Come, now," said Julia, "consider me your 
 father-confessor, disclose to me in what your present 
 happiness consists, and I may perhaps be the means
 
 102 FITZALLAN. 
 
 of enabling" you to enjoy it for ever; but tell m« 
 first, why do you not dance with Lady Amelia? she 
 will perhaps be offended if you do not invite her to 
 dance with you." 
 
 " I would not be guilty of such presumption," said 
 Hector. 
 
 *' Fear not," said Julia, " you will not be refused." 
 
 Emboldened by this assurance on the part of Julia, 
 Hector approached Lady Amelia, and solicited her 
 hand for the next dance. " It is with regret," she 
 answered, " that I am obliged to refuse you, being 
 engaged for the next two dances, but," in a whisper, 
 and with a look expressive of the purest dehght, " the 
 third dance I will consider myself engaged to you." 
 
 Hector stood on the pinnacle of human bliss, and 
 so high and mighty were his feelings, that he con- 
 sidered it would be an act of profanation to dance 
 with any other lady, or even to touch the hand of 
 one, before the moment arrived when he was to take 
 the hand of Amelia to lead her out to her station in 
 the dance. He seated himself in a retired part of 
 the room, and with his eyes followed Amelia through 
 all the mazy evolutions of the dance. She appeared 
 to him like some light-winged sylph bounding in the 
 air, or as a nymph, whose footsteps are so light 
 as not to make a mark on ocean's yellow sands. 
 Once he caught her eye, and a lovely smile sat upon 
 her countenance, but could he flatter himself that 
 that smile beamed for him ? could he, as a mere pie- 
 beian, venture to raise his expectations so high as to 
 believe that Lady Amelia Fortescue, the daughter 
 of one of Scotia's noblest earls, could ever stoop so
 
 FITZALLAN. 103 
 
 low as to be enamoured of him ? but how presump- 
 tuous is sometimes the heart of man when under the 
 influence of love ! animated by its spirit, with one 
 bound it overleaps the obstacles which rank, titles, 
 or opulence may throw in its way, and which, on 
 any other occasion, would be deemed insurmount- 
 able. Love is, of all passions, the passion of en- 
 thusiasm, but there are few persons who are able to 
 flatter themselves with having experienced that en- 
 thusiasm in its fullest and most undivided force. It 
 does not consist, as it is supposed, in ardent desires, 
 in lively enjoyments, but it consists in that total 
 denial of ourselves, that forgetfulness of our very 
 being", which causes all our sensations to have some 
 relation to the beloved object. The universe to a 
 lover is only that spot which is inhabited by his mis- 
 tress, all the rest is a desert, he could not breathe in it ; 
 the flowers in it have no perfume, the rays of the 
 sun have neither light nor life in them, all objects 
 in it to him are strange ; he sees no beauty in the 
 stars of heaven, no further than that in the purity of 
 their light, and the eternal duration of their being, 
 they may be the symbols of the purity and eternity 
 of his own love. The air in which her name is men- 
 tioned is the only atmosphere in which he wishes to 
 breathe ; the rose which fades on her bosom, would 
 be to him a relic of adoration. 
 
 It cannot be supposed that the heart of Hector 
 Fitzallan was yet vivified by such exalted sentiments, 
 for he was yet almost ignorant of the nature of the 
 feelings by which it was oppressed ; a change, a 
 mighty change had taken place in him ; nature had
 
 104 FITZALLAN. 
 
 spoken to him in her imperious tone, and it is a 
 voice which humanizes the savage, and diffuses over 
 the heart of man, the sweetest — brightest — proudest 
 
 feehngs of his existence.
 
 riTZALLAN. 105 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Is the throne of thy conquest thy soft Up of roses ? 
 
 Or the flexible charm of thy ftright bhie eye ? 
 Is the temple where grandeur or sweetness reposes, 
 
 The soft heaving breast, or the forehead so high P 
 Oh "lovely thine eye, but more lovely shines through it, 
 
 The spirit un wasted, unwither'd by time, 
 The frame maj- be fair through whose crystal we view it. 
 
 But fairer within is the picture sublime. 
 
 Hector, in a retired part of the room, was secretly, 
 and as he thought unnoticed, feasting his eyes on 
 the glowing charms of AmeUa ; he was now almost 
 living, as it were, in a world of his own creation, 
 peopled with forms of angel beauty, and one more 
 prominent than all the rest, the beau ideal of all the 
 perfection that a woman can exhibit in a terrestrial 
 form. He was too much occupied with his own 
 feelings to notice a circumstance which occurred at 
 the opposite end of the room, where on the opening 
 of a private door, a tall, meagre figure entered the 
 apartment with a kind of brusquerie inconsistent 
 with the polished manners of those into whose com- 
 pany he had intruded himself. He was attired in a 
 common travelling dress, and more fitted for the 
 exterior of a stage coach than a ball room. He ap- 
 peared to know no one, nor to be known by any one,
 
 106 FITZALLAN. 
 
 and yet it was remarked, to the great surprise of all 
 who observed the extraordinary motions of the stran- 
 ger, that no measures were adopted either by General 
 Hamilton or his lady to exclude the intruder from 
 the company. Every eye in that part of the room 
 was rivetted upon him, but he seemed perfectly in- 
 different to the notice which he attracted, nor did he 
 pay the slightest attention to the many unpleasant 
 remarks which he must have overheard, that were 
 made on his most untimely intrusion. His look, 
 which was most piercing and penetrating, appeared 
 to pervade every part of the room, as if in search of 
 some particular object, and that object, it must not 
 be concealed, was no other person than Hector Fitz- 
 allan. He tor, however, at that moment cared not if 
 a whole host of nondescript strangers had entered 
 the room, he felt only interested about one, but he 
 was on a sudden roused from his reverie by General 
 Hamilton, who accosting him in a whisper, said, 
 *' Retire into that antichamber — quick, quick, or you 
 will be discovered." 
 
 " By whom shall I be discovered ?" asked Hector, 
 in an anxious tone. 
 
 " Ask no questions," said the General ; " wait there 
 till you see me again ; quick, quick." 
 
 Hector was wholly confounded at this conduct of 
 the General, and he began to expostulate ; the 
 General, however, would not allow him a moment 
 for explanation, but taking him by the arm, led him 
 to the antichamber, and having hurried him into it, 
 closed the door, and then mingled again in the com- 
 pany as if nothing had occurred to disturb his tran-
 
 accostiagliiiniaaiTiiisper, said, retire into ihat antLchamber, qxjick—quicJr, 
 or yoii-wiQ ie disco\''ered. *
 
 FITZALLAN. 107 
 
 quillity. In the mean time the stranger had placed 
 himself exactly opposite to the place where Ameha 
 Fortescue was dancing ; he seemed to eye her with 
 the most scrupulous attention, following* her as she 
 proceeded down the dance, and appearing per- 
 fectly indifferent whether he stood in the way of the 
 dancers, or disturbed the regularity of their evolu- 
 tions. A smile of delight and approbation seemed 
 on a sudden to illumine the hitherto sullen and care- 
 worn features of the stranger, and making a slight 
 obeisance to Lady Amelia, he stalked away majes- 
 tically to the further end of the room. There he 
 stood for some minutes, and appeared to cast his 
 eyes to every quarter, in hope of meeting with the 
 object of his search. A deep frown was observed on 
 a sudden to overshadow his countenance, and folding 
 his arms across his body, he darted out at the same 
 door by which he had entered. General Hamilton 
 was now importuned by many of his visitors to give 
 them some clue to the appearance of so extraordinary 
 a character, but he seemed studiously to avoid a full 
 explanation, and contented himself with merely stating 
 that the individual was a foreigner, with whom he had 
 formed an acquaintance whilst he was in actual service 
 on the continent, a man of most ecceiftric habits, 
 but in other respects of sterling worth, and belong- 
 ing to one of the most noble families of his country; 
 that he had on that evening called upon him on pass- 
 ing through the city, and had been invited by him to 
 the ball. *' Being aware of his character," continued 
 the General, " any interference on my part respecting 
 his conduct would only have roused the natural
 
 108 FITZALLAN. 
 
 acerbity of his temper, and which might have led to 
 some scenes of an unpleasant nature, but we shall 
 be troubled no more with him, therefore let not the 
 amusements of the evening meet with any further 
 interruption." 
 
 The worH abounds with a kind of suspicious and 
 incredulous spirits, to whom let the most satisfactory 
 information be given to them on any knotty point, 
 yet who are still determined to perceive something 
 more than has been disclosed, and which they are 
 convinced is purposely held back to answer some in- 
 terested motive. Now this was precisely the case 
 with the information 'given by the General ; a few 
 gave full credence to his statement, and to this per- 
 haps they were induced, because they cared not 
 whether it were true or false, as they did not feel 
 their own interests involved in the question ; but, on 
 the other hand, others, who from a more officious dis- 
 position considered themselves privileged to probe into 
 the reasons and causes of every action which takes 
 place under their own eyes, although they may be 
 personally as little interested in them as in the affairs 
 of the Emperor of China, formed their little coteries 
 in different parts of the room, and after having, as 
 they wisely fancied, penetrated to the very nucleus of 
 the kernel, they simply arrived at a negative conclu- 
 sion, in which nine times out of ten amounts to no 
 opinion at all, and they decided that the stranger was 
 noiKsLierMio the conjuror, nor was he the Wandering 
 Jew, nor was he Mephistophiles to lay the plan for the 
 seduction of another Margaret, who might be in the 
 room: but then what was he? it was enough to
 
 FITZALLAN. 109 
 
 rouse the angry dispositions of a saint, not to be 
 able to solve that question ; and then the look which 
 he cast upon AmeHa Fortescue, and his marked at- 
 tention to her, what could be the meaning of that ? 
 Had he any secret design against her ? perhaps to 
 carry her off, as it would not be the first instance of 
 the kind which has happened at a ball ; and then 
 when the General was observed to enter the anti- 
 chamber, and after waiting there a short time, to lead 
 out Hector Fitzallan, the tide of wonder began to 
 flow rapidly again, and the question then was as to the 
 nature of the business, which could require the 
 General and so young a man to be closeted, and who 
 appeared to have been selected as the only person in 
 the room worthy of being admitted into the confi- 
 dence of the General. That the countenance of 
 Hector, on leaving the antichamber, was well cal- 
 culated to increase the flame of curiosity cannot be 
 doubted, for it did not require the skill of aLavater to 
 read in his features the workings of a mind ill at 
 ease, and whose thoughts were occupied with very 
 different subjects than those which had any imme- 
 diate reference to the amusements of the evening. 
 He, however, on a sudden appeared to rouse himself 
 from his abstraction, and mingled with the com- 
 pany as if nothing had occurred to disturb his 
 hilarity. He saw Amelia Fortescue, and the sight of 
 her v^as sufficient to bring a sunshine even over the 
 most clouded mind, one glance from an eye like hers, 
 beaming with the life-deep passion of a first love, 
 possessed power enough to reduce the most turbulent 
 feelings to tranquillity ; a look from a countenance
 
 110 riTZALLAN. 
 
 less beautiful than hers, if directed by love, has been 
 known to decide the destiny of an empire, how 
 much more so then the fate of a human being. 
 
 Whilst lost in the contemplation of the beauty of 
 Amelia, he was suddenly accosted by tlie sprightly 
 Julia, who for some reason, which Hector could 
 not divine, appeared on that night to single him out 
 as the object of her principal attention. " You ap- 
 pear overwhelmed in thought, Mr. Fitzallan," said 
 Juha, " I hope that nothing has happened to dis- 
 please you ?" 
 
 *' Is it possible I can be displeased," said Hector, 
 ■"when I am surrounded by so much beauty?" 
 
 " That is a compUment," said Julia, " in which I 
 cannot consider myself included. But why do you 
 not dance ? I consider that every lady who is disen- 
 gaged in the room ought to inflict a very heavy 
 punishment upon you." 
 
 " Then suppose," said Hector, " that you commence 
 the operation — " 
 
 *' With me," said Julia ; " it is out of the question. 
 ■ I am but a valetudinarian, and am prohibited from 
 dancing. But can you allow so beautiful a girl as 
 Adeline Gordon to censure you for a want of gal- 
 lantry? Can you deny yourself the happiness of 
 having her for your partner ?" 
 
 " I have not the honour of being known to Miss 
 Gordon," said Hector. 
 
 *' That is a difficulty soon surmounted," said 
 Julia ; " I will with pleasure introduce you to 
 her." 
 
 " I hope you will excuse me on that point," sai(J
 
 FITZALLAN. Ill 
 
 Hector ; *' I am engaged to dance with — with Lady- 
 Amelia Fortescue." 
 
 *' Indeed !" exclaimed Julia, with an arch look ; 
 " how happens it then that you are not dancing with 
 her ?" 
 
 " It is the dance after the next that I am engaged 
 to her ladyship," said Hector. 
 
 " Then why refuse," asked Julia, " to dance the 
 next dance with Miss Gordon, especially as it is her 
 wish?' 
 
 " Her wish !" exclaimed Hector; " how can that 
 possibly be ?" 
 
 " I mean," said Julia, evidently confused, " I 
 meant to say, that it cannot be otherwise than her 
 wish to dance with so accomplished a dancer as you 
 have shown yourself to be." 
 
 " You are an adept at flattery," said Hector • 
 *' but although I had made a resolution not to dance 
 until I have the honour of lady Amelia's hand, yet I 
 will not stand guilty in your estimation of a want of 
 gallantry ;" and accompanied by Julia, they proceeded 
 to that part of the room, where Adeline Gordon was 
 sitting. 
 
 It may be necessary to throw a little hght upon 
 the conduct of Julia, as, on the first view, it might 
 appear as the result of mere levity, or rather as the 
 effect of a certain innate mischievous disposition, in 
 which she was too prone to indulge, and which fre- 
 quently involved her in some very unpleasant predi- 
 caments. The handsome figure and gentlemanly 
 deportment of Hector Fitzallan had made a deep 
 impression upon the hearts of many of the female
 
 112 FITZALLAN. 
 
 visitors, but upon no one more so, perhaps with one 
 exception, than upon Adeline Gordon. She had 
 seen him in conversation with JuHa,and she therefore 
 selected her immediately as the channel of introduce 
 tion to him. With that ill-founded confidence which 
 young females are too apt to repose in each other, 
 especially in affairs where the heart is concerned^ 
 Adeline, after passing an encomium on the personal 
 qualiiications o, He6tor, expressed her wish to be in- 
 troduced to him ; for she saw in him another victim 
 added to her triumphal car, laden with her chains, 
 and subject to her dominion. Perceiving that Hector 
 was not engaged in the dance, she importuned Julia 
 to effect the introduction for her. It was a decisive 
 i<noment in the life of Hector ; his guardian spirit 
 must have been sent on some other errand, and for 
 the time have neglected him, or he would have whis- 
 pered his admonitions in his ear^ and have w^arned 
 him of the danger he was incurring. 
 
 Who is there that has mixed in a certain circle in 
 the Scottish capital, and does not remember Adeline 
 Gordon? With the very mention of her name is 
 associated the reminiscence of all that is lovely and 
 enchanting in the exterior of a woman; but, on the 
 other hand, of all that is hateful and vicious in the in- 
 terior. The individual whom she favoured with a 
 smile fancied himself the happiest amongst the happy ; 
 the youth to whom she gave a glimpse of her bosom 
 saw in it a heaven of bliss. With a figure that would 
 have served the sculptor for the finest model of 
 feminine beauty — with a grace and dignity in all her 
 motions, that bespoke her to be an inhabitant of a
 
 FITZALLAN. 113 
 
 higher sphere — with a voluptuousness in all her 
 gestures that would have thawed the icy heart of age, 
 and raised a flame in the breast of an anchoret; 
 fierce, fiery, and all-consuming as the sirocco of the 
 desert — yet, with all these bounteous gifts of nature, 
 Adeline Gordon was in heart a fiend. If by her arts 
 she could unloosen the bonds of connubial happiness, 
 she was happy ; if she could sever two affectionate 
 hearts by her own seductive wiles, or by stratagem 
 or misrepresentation, it was her glory. If she saw a 
 tear drawn from its source by some secret machi- 
 nation, it was her pride ; but if that tear were never 
 dried, but remained on the cheek until all colour was 
 flown, and the last ligament of the heart was about 
 to snap and lay the sufferer at rest for ever, then was 
 her victory complete. 
 
 And yet, as in all characters of her stamp, she 
 could at times in her actions be great, be noble, be 
 worthy of our reverence. She could soar beyond 
 the ordinary hne of human conduct, and be the 
 enthusiast ; daring to do what the mere common mind 
 "Would tremble at. Every thing with her touched 
 the extreme; it was either transcendently good, or 
 infernally wicked. She appeared in her actions 
 to know no medium ; she was not a subject of twi- 
 light, she existed either in a meridian light, or in 
 Cimmerian darkness. She could appear to be a votary 
 of virtue from a love of virtue itself, and yet it was 
 the mere ebullition of the moment, the ungovernable 
 impetuosity of her passions which urged her to the 
 commission of an act, of which she had never studied 
 the principle nor the end ; she appeared to be 
 
 VOL. I. 1
 
 H4 FITZALLAN. 
 
 governed solely by one power ; and that power was 
 
 < 1 WILL. 
 
 She delighted in the conquest of a heart, it was not 
 however to give her love in return ; but, having by 
 the irresistible force of her charms enchained the 
 affections of an individual, she would, like the vam- 
 pire, press that being to her heart, at the same time 
 that she was inflicting a death wound ; she would 
 glory in the pain that she caused, and having driven 
 her victim to the verge of the grave with despair, she 
 would smile at the wreck which she had made, and 
 turn away from the ruin as if unworthy of a thought. 
 
 The only child of weak and indulgent parents, from 
 her infancy she had been brought up subject to no 
 control, amenable to no will but her own. The 
 early indications of a vicious disposition were left to 
 grow to exuberance, poisoning every germ of virtue 
 which might otherwise have taken root, and destruc- 
 tive of those principles which ought to be the in- 
 variable guide of every female entering into life. 
 The tendencies which a discriminating and prudent 
 mother would have checked as dangerous to the 
 future happiness of her child, were rather encouraged 
 as indicative of a noble and generous spirit. Her 
 father was allied to one of the ducal families of 
 the northern part of the kingdom ; and although in 
 point of fortune he could not be considered as great, 
 yet it was ample enough to support his daughter 
 in her career of pleasure and dissipation, and his 
 noble alliance entitled her to be received into the 
 most select assemblies of the country in which they 
 resided. The constant theme of her doting parents
 
 FITZALLAN. 115 
 
 was her transcendent beauty j they were continually- 
 exalting her as one whose personal charms could not 
 find a parallel — a species of information which a 
 beautiful girl does not require to be given to her if 
 she be but in possession of a mirror. She was puffed 
 up with the conceit that there was not a coronet in 
 the kingdom that would not be laid at her feet, and 
 that royalty itself would glory to see her the partner 
 of the throne. Her education had been entirely- 
 superficial and ornamental ; the solid and useful 
 part of human knowledge she rejected as beneath 
 her ; her whole aim and bent were to shine as some 
 uncommonly effulgent meteor in the sphere in which 
 she moved, throwing a halo of splendour around her, 
 and dazzling all her beholders by the brilliancy of 
 her personal attractions. Of religion she knew 
 nothing ; she considered all its institutions and ordi- 
 nances as so many false and unnecessary checks on 
 the freedom of her conduct, and to none of which 
 she was bound to conform, if they interfered with the 
 gratification of her passions, or the accomplishment 
 of her designs. Thus at the age of nineteen was 
 Adeline Gordon ushered into the world, wild, im- 
 petuous, and heedless as the unbroken steed ; all 
 restraint was galHng to her^ the friendly monitor 
 who would now and then presume to warn her of 
 the consequence of her indiscretion was certain of 
 being treated with contempt and derision. She con- 
 sidered herself accountable to no one for her actions ; 
 the opinion of the world she affected to despise, and 
 in several instances she has been known to adopt a 
 1-2
 
 116 FITZ ALLAN. 
 
 particular line of conduct, merely because she knew 
 the unanimous voice of the world condemned it. 
 
 But if this woman had ever really loved ; if her 
 heart had ever been animated with the pure, the 
 chaste, the genuine feelings of a sincere and unalter- 
 able affection ; if she could have given her whole soul 
 and heart to one ; and if she could have acquired the 
 art of bringing her passions under a wholesome con- 
 trol, the man who called her his would have been 
 the envy of his race. She fancied that she had often 
 loved, but it was the wildness of passion unconnected 
 with either esteem or regard ; it was a sirian flame, 
 consuming that which fed it, and that which fed on it ; 
 and to this dangerous character was Hector Fitzallan 
 now introduced. 
 
 It were perhaps needless to remark, that if the 
 heart of Hector had not been, as it were, taken by 
 surprise by the bewitching and fascinating beauty of 
 Amelia Fortescue, little doubt exists that it would 
 have yielded to the charms of Adeline Gordon, and 
 that eventually he would have shared the fate of his 
 predecessors; but notwithstanding the latter threw 
 out all her allurements, and played off all her be- 
 witching arts to bring her victim within the orbit of 
 her power, there yet appeared on the part of Hector 
 a coldness and insensibility which she had not been 
 accustomed to meet in those butterfly characters 
 which v/ere continually fluttering about her, and 
 buzzing in her ear the most fulsome eulogiums on 
 her transcendent beauty. She could not suppose it 
 possible for a vouthful heart to withstand the power
 
 riTZALLAls. 117 
 
 of her charms, for every one had hitherto yielded oa 
 the first attack, and surrendered to whatever terms 
 she was pleased to impose upon him ; but then she 
 said, " The value of a thing is generally appreciated 
 by the time and trouble it takes in the acquisition of 
 it ; every one can pick up a pebble without much 
 pains, but to obtain a diamond or a grain of gold is 
 the work of time. What ! if I were to give a kiss to 
 every fool that offered me his lips ; v/ould that kiss 
 be valued ? but if I throw out every temptation ; if I 
 lead on the conceited creature, inflated with hope, 
 step by step, and then, at the moment when he thinks 
 himself at the very attainment of his wishes, when in 
 his fancy he has tasted the luscious fruit, then sud- 
 denly to withdraw it, and place it, as it were, further 
 from his reach than ever, then my kiss would in his 
 eyes be a Golconda gem ; and, ultimately, to gain 
 it, he would count the stars, and be the very menial, 
 the humble slave crouching at my feet." 
 
 Such was the mode of reasoning which this beau- 
 tiful girl adopted in her own mind in furtherance of 
 Jier designs on the heart and, it may be added, on 
 the happiness of Hector Fitzallan. It was a prize 
 -of no ordinary value, because it could not be obtained 
 at a cheap rate ; it was not a fruit which fell at the 
 first shaking of the bough, and therefore no cankering 
 worm had been gnawing at the core to despoil it of 
 its excellence, but young as she was, she was too well 
 skilled in that particular line of conduct which is sa 
 pleasing and flattering to the youthful heart, as to 
 exhibit any open show of what her intentions were. 
 Had a casual observer watched her conduct, h^
 
 118 PITZALLAN. 
 
 "would have decided it to have been the exact reverse 
 of that which distinguishes the girl bent on the con- 
 quest of a heart. She threw out no allurements, 
 she exhibited none of those half wanton, half volup- 
 tuous motions, which, whilst they fascinate the senses, 
 lead the heart on by an irresistible power to complete 
 subjection, and to a total absence of all self-control. 
 In her immediate conduct towards Hector she as- 
 sumed the reserved and repellent tone of the deter- 
 mined prude ; she seemed almost indifferent whether 
 she pleased or not, although conscious to herself at 
 the same time that she was adopting the exact line of 
 conduct most calculated in the end to accomplish her 
 design. Her conversation, so far from having any 
 tendency to the subject which was in reality the 
 nearest to her heart, partook of that frivolity and 
 triviality which are generally known to exist in a 
 ball-room. Yet there was one point to which she 
 wished to draw the attention of Hector, but the in- 
 troduction of it required some art; were she to enter 
 upon it abruptly it might engender an unfavourable 
 opinion of her own heart, but she watched the oppor- 
 tunity, and it was not long before it was afforded her. 
 It has been said, that it requires some ability to 
 maintain a conversation for some time with an indi- 
 vidual, and particularly a female, who but a few 
 minutes before was a perfect stranger to us, and whose 
 mind may be as different from our own in its attain- 
 ments and prejudices as the mind of a Newton from 
 that of a Chicksaw savage. It is true that a person 
 may touch upon one and thirty points of the compass 
 of the human mind before he succeeds in touching the
 
 FITZALLAN. H9 
 
 identical one which has tlie shghtest relationsliip 
 with the ruling one of the individual with whom we 
 are suddenly brought into contact ; and it must be 
 confessed, that there are few situations more irksome 
 and disagreeable than that of racking our brains to 
 discover some topic on which we can converse with 
 our new acquaintance ; to find ourselves foiled in 
 every attempt, and to be answered only by tlie chilling 
 monosyllable of yes or no ; as if the mind were an 
 isolated point around which not a single idea re- 
 volved. The weather is generally a very convenient 
 subject to begin with, as one on which the greatest 
 fool can converse ; but after we have informed our 
 partner that the weather has been very rainy, and she 
 has very politely coincided in the justice and acute- 
 ness of our remark, we may perhaps proceed to 
 express our hope that the weather will be fine on 
 the morrow ; and after she has expressed her hope 
 to the same effect, the subject then is generally ex- 
 hausted, and we stand opposite to each other like 
 two automatons, secretly saying to ourselves, " What 
 the devil shall we say next ?" 
 
 Fashion is another never failing subject ; but it is 
 one which a man can seldom enter into with a 
 female without running the risk of committing some 
 breach of good manners. If he allude to the short- 
 ness of the petticoats as having been adopted to display 
 a beautifully turned ancle, it may happen that his 
 partner has an ancle bestowed upon her by nature 
 somewhat similar to the leg of a horse which has 
 stood for a month in the stable, and the chances are 
 then an hundred to one against him, that he is a
 
 120 FITZALLAN. 
 
 hundred degrees lower in her opinion than he was 
 before the short petticoats were mentioned. 
 
 But there is a subject which there are few who 
 cannot converse upon, and which appears to be 
 exactly suited to the meridian of a ball room, and 
 that is slander. It is the very main-spring of con- 
 versation ; it is the ofFal on which every mind can 
 feed ; it is the sluice which when once opened, no 
 matter how black and feculent the flood, which pre- 
 sents the most ready materials for keeping up a con- 
 versation, and the more depraved and degenerate 
 the mind, the more copious are the draughts which 
 are made upon those materials. Thus Adeline Gor- 
 don and Hector Fitzallan had not long taken their 
 station in the dance, before the latter had acquired 
 the knowledge of many little traits of some of the 
 characters, particularly of the females, who were 
 then in the room, by which he was neither edified 
 nor instructed. But it was now the time for a parti- 
 cular lady to lead off the dance, and that lady was 
 Lady Amelia Fortescue, and although Adeline Gor- 
 don was fully conscious of the extent of her own 
 charms, still there was a monitor within her, who, 
 prompted by envy, whispered to her, that Amelia 
 Fortescue in point of personal attractions was a most 
 formidable rival to her, and with this impression it 
 cannot be expected that she would launch forth into 
 any extravagant encomiums of her ; indeed it may 
 be said, that the only portrait that is never flattered, 
 is that which is drawn by a woman of her rival. 
 
 The opportunity, however, for which Adeline 
 Gordon had been long looking had now arrived, and
 
 FITZALLAN. 121 
 
 observing Lady Amelia Fortescue at the head of the 
 dance, she said, " What a pity it is that Lady Amelia 
 Fortescue has been broug-ht out so soon in life. I 
 rather think if her parents knew of it, that they 
 would not approve of it." 
 
 " Do you not think," said Hector, " that Lady 
 Amelia would prove an ornament to any ball room ?" 
 
 " That is a mere matter of taste," answered Ade- 
 line ; "for my own part, she is not a beauty accord- 
 ing to the ideal which I have formed of beauty." 
 
 *' Did that idea first strike you," asked Hector, 
 *' when you looked into your mirror" this morn- 
 ing?" 
 
 " Pardon me," said Adeline, who was secretly 
 pleased at the unexpected compliment, " a mirror 
 always speaks the truth, which is more than can be 
 said of the male part of the human creation." 
 
 •' What is the eye of man but a mirror," said 
 Hector, " in which the most delightful thing that can 
 be reflected is female beauty ? Cannot you see the 
 object that is now reflected in mine?" 
 
 " Pray, Mr. Fitzaflan," said Adeline, " in what 
 school have you been educated ? you never learnt that 
 sentiment within the dusty walls of a college ; but 
 I must beg leave to differ with you on one point, and 
 that is, that there is not a more deceitful reflector than 
 the eye of man, for it often pretends to see beauty and 
 perfection where none exist, and then the tongue 
 is prompted by it to declare that which is false." 
 
 " That is a perverted vision," said Hector, "for such 
 a vision would see no beauiy in the stars of the firma- 
 ment, nor in the structure of a flower ; but with ine life
 
 122 FITZALLAN. 
 
 would be a desert as soon as I became insensible ts 
 beauty, wherever it presented itself to my eye." 
 
 "Then I suppose," said Adeline, "you cannot 
 be insensible to the beauty of Lady Amelia For- 
 te scue ?" '■' 
 
 " I may admire it," said Hector ; " to' hope to pos« 
 sess it would be presumption." 
 
 "I am informed," said Adeline, "that she has 
 been sent hither under the care of the General and 
 his lady, who are nearly related to her, to complete 
 her education, particularly in music, at the same 
 time that her hand is positively engaged in marriage." 
 " Engaged in marriage !" repeated Hector, with 
 an embarrassment which did not escape the penetrat- 
 ing eye of Adeline. 
 
 "That is a fact," said Adehne, "which is universally 
 known. She is engaged to Sir Henry Montfort : he 
 is now sitting on the sofa conversing with the General's 
 lady." 
 
 Hector could scarcely restrain his feelings ; he had 
 been during the whole of the evening cherishing 
 hopes, and feasting in his own mind onvisions of the 
 purest happiness, when in a moment he saw all 
 those hopes annihilated, and the frost-work of his 
 visions dissolving into nothingness; but he rallied 
 all his presence of mind, and said to himself. It was, 
 it was indeed presumption in me ; then addressing 
 himself to his partner, he said, " Has any long at- 
 tachment subsisted between them ?" 
 
 " That is a question I cannot decisively answer," 
 
 said Adeline, " but I suppose the contrary to be the 
 
 - case, for I am informed from another quarter, that
 
 FITZALLAN. 123 
 
 the completion of her education is merely a pretext, 
 and that she has in reality been sent hither, to be 
 thrown into the society of Sir Henry Montfort, whose 
 estate is in the immediate vicinity of this place ; 
 but of what consequence is it whether any attach- 
 ment exist or not ? Sir Henry is a young man of 
 high connexions and opulence, and it is as good a 
 match as Lady Amelia can rationally expect, for 
 although she be the daughter of an earl, she has two 
 younger brothers, to whom the bulk of her father's 
 fortune will devolve." 
 
 " But," said Hector, '* if no previous attachment 
 exist, is it not an act of direct cruelty to force two 
 young people into a union so serious as marriage, 
 before their hearts have been consulted. I consider 
 such an act to be little short of an actual crime." 
 
 " Now that is a sentiment," said Adeline, " that 
 may suit the atmosphere of a college, but it is per- 
 fectly consistent with the practices of the world. 
 The interests of families must be consulted, and their 
 dignity maintained." 
 
 " At the sacrifice," said Hector, " of every thing 
 that is moral, just, or right." 
 
 " Besides," said Adeline, " it may perhaps be as 
 well that she should be married early, for by the 
 accounts which I have heard she is rather flighty in 
 her conduct." 
 
 " Then in my opinion,'* said Hector, who was 
 rather piqued at this aspersion on the character of 
 Amelia, " that is the most forcible argument you 
 could have urged for the impropriety of a speedy 
 union. It were better that such a disposition should
 
 124 FITZALLAN. 
 
 be sobered down before so important a step as mar- 
 riage is entered into ; and after all, perhaps, that 
 which you have designated as flightiness of conduct is 
 nothing more than the buoyant hilarity of youth ; 
 ivhich, conscious of its own innocence and unsullied 
 purity, yields to the first impulses of its nature, and 
 feels in the ebulhtions of its harmless mirth one of 
 the chief blessings of its existence." 
 
 At this moment Amelia Fortescue presented her 
 hand to Hector to turn him in the dance, and still 
 shone on her lonely countenance the same bewitching 
 smile, which she had formerly bestowed upon him, 
 it seemed to thank him for the warm manner in which 
 he had attempted to repel the malicious insinuation 
 of Adeline Gordon ; but the feelings of Hector were 
 now of a different character than they weae a few 
 minutes before; he saw no more before him the 
 flowing beauty, which his presumptuous hopes had 
 invited him to believe might one day be his : he saw 
 before him the affianced bride of another. She ap- 
 peared now to be invested with a sacred character, 
 which his high sense of virtue and of honour would 
 not allow him to profane, and in his eyes it appeared 
 little less than a positive crime either by gesture or 
 by act to encourage a flame, which might eventually 
 consume them both, and lay in ruins the entire fabric 
 of their terrestrial happiness. Impressed with this 
 ieeling, the conduct of Hector towards Amelia was 
 stiff, formal, and ceremonious ; it was wholly desti- 
 tute of any tendency to that familiarity which ap- 
 peared to be established between them, and which 
 took its rise from that congeniality of sentiment which
 
 FITZALLAN. 125 
 
 "brings the kindred mind into closer collision with its 
 fellow, and proves the force of that sympathy which, 
 let the stoic say what he will, is wisely and bene- 
 volently implanted in our nature as the foundation of 
 our purest joys. 
 
 The eye of a female is of wonderful power, it can 
 penetrate sometimes to the very nucleus of the heart, 
 and read what is passing there, although every attempt 
 be made to keep it unrevealed. Amelia felt the 
 change in the conduct of Hector, and she asked her- 
 self to what it was to be attributed : she looked to 
 herself, and saw nothing in her conduct which could 
 have given cause to it ; she looked to his partner, she 
 saw the beautiful Adeline Gordon, and the enigma 
 was at once expounded to her. It must not be sup- 
 posed that Amelia Fortescue, in her youthful sim- 
 plicity and innocence was able to analyze the nature 
 of the feelings which then oppressed her, for even to 
 herself she could not define either their origin or 
 their principles ; but so contradictory in its opera- 
 tions is the human heart, particularly that of a girl 
 in the aurora of her life, when the mightiest passion 
 of her nature is beginning to exert its power, that 
 she convinced herself that her feelings could not 
 arise from any particular interest which she felt either 
 for Hector Fitzallan' or his partner ; yet if she had 
 been able to dive into the recesses of the actual truth, 
 she would have found that it was that very interest, 
 warm and intense in its origin, by which those very- 
 feelings had been excited. Adeline Gordon was on 
 a sudden the object of her most marked dislike, and 
 yet she could not tell why she was so ; they were
 
 126 FITZALLAN. 
 
 entire strangers to each other, and therefore there 
 could not exist any real grounds of oflPence ; still the 
 heart of Ameha had imbibed the impression, and she 
 never in any future event of her life found reason to 
 alter it. 
 
 Hector now almost wished that he had not soli- 
 cited the hand of Amelia for the ensuing- dance ; the 
 charm which had encircled her, bright and glowing 
 as it was in its ephemeral existence, had broken 
 asunder, and a dead, cheerless gloom weighed heavily 
 on his heart ; but the web and woof of his fate are 
 weaving ; an invisible hand guides the shuttle, and 
 not one thread is intermingled which has not its con- 
 nexion and its purpose. 
 
 One of the most important moments in the life of 
 Hector had arrived : Ameha Fortescue was his part- 
 ner. There was before him a sparkling eye, from 
 which beamed all that was lovely, all that could speak 
 rapture to the youthful heart ; there rose before his 
 own eye a bosom on which an angel might have 
 pillowed its head, and fancied itself in heaven. But 
 still in the midst of those ecstatic feelings there rose., 
 like a demon with its pestiferous breath to dispel 
 them, the agonizing thought — she is another's. It 
 threw itself between him and his happiness like the 
 moon between the world and the sun, eclipsing for 
 ever all the brightness of his future life. 
 
 That two persons of such acknowledged personal 
 beauty as Amelia Fortescue and Hector Fitzallan 
 should fail to excite the attention of the assembly as 
 they moved down the dance can only be questioned 
 by those who are ignorant of the manners of a ball-
 
 FITZALLAN. 127 
 
 room ; for a person has only to render himself con- 
 spicuous by the display of any particular talent, or 
 the commission of any extraordinary act in a public 
 assembly, to make himself immediately the subject 
 of the curiosity of the company, and a thousand con- 
 jectures are hazarded, and a thousand inquiries are 
 set on foot to ascertain the place of his birth, the re- 
 spectability of his connexions, the extent of his for- 
 tune ; and on the part of the females the whole 
 generally resolves itself into one question — Is he 
 married or single ? 
 
 " It is a great pity," said Julia, to a lady who was 
 sitting by her side, " that Mr. Fitzallan is not of a 
 noble family, and it is also a still greater pity that 
 he will not apply himself to some other profession 
 than that of a minister ; it is one by which he 
 will never make his fortune unless his interest be 
 great." 
 
 " There are not many of us," said her companion, 
 " who would not wish to have him for our father 
 confessor." 
 
 " And pray what would be the first thing that you 
 would confess to him ?" asked Julia, with that spirit 
 of mischief so natural to her. 
 
 " I would confess to him,"' answered the lady, 
 " that — that — you once put a question to me which I 
 could not answer." 
 
 " Do you not consider it rather strange," asked 
 Julia, " that he should be invited to this assembly, 
 where the company is so very select, especially as I 
 know that he is invited to the fete which the General 
 intends to give in honour of his daughter's marriage,
 
 128 PITZALLAN. 
 
 and v/here there will be a greater number of visitors 
 of plebeian rank than are here to-night." 
 
 " Perhaps," said the lady, " you could not have 
 addressed yourself to any one in this assembly who is 
 more warmly interested in the late of that young 
 man than myself." 
 
 " Indeed!*' exclaimed Julia, " how can that be? 
 I thought he was a stranger to almost every one in 
 the room." 
 
 " Not so much a stranger to some," said the lady, 
 *' as you suspect him to be ; and the time is not far 
 distant when you will wish that you could revoke the 
 sentiments which you have just now uttered respect- 
 ing him — but, apropos, here comes the General ; he 
 shall himself satisfy your curiosity ;" and addressing 
 him, she said, " General, this young lady has a 
 particular desire to know how it comes to pass that 
 Mr. Fitzallan is one of your guests to-night ?" 
 
 Julia now felt the awkwardness of her situation ; 
 her inexperience and proneness to mischief had in- 
 volved her in a dilemma, which could not fail to 
 degrade her in the estimation of her then associates ; 
 and it must be confessed, that on the first view, the 
 conduct of Julia may appear as bordering on an 
 officious and unjustifiable interference in the concerns 
 of an individual to whom she was but a few hours 
 before a perfect stranger, but there was a secret spring 
 impelling her to a particular line of conduct ; and 
 t'he sequel will show that she Avas but an instrument 
 in the hands of another, to effect a particular purpose, 
 but of the ultimate aim of which she was herself 
 wholly ignorant.
 
 FITZALLAN. 129 
 
 ' " The curiosity of our young friend shall soon be 
 satisfied," said the General. " I consider, in the 
 first place, that I have not degraded any of my noble 
 guests by the invitation of Mr. P'itzallan. His father 
 was the friend of my youth, and therefore I feel a 
 strong partiality for his son, who appears to me to 
 be a highly meritorious and amiable young man. I 
 grant that there is at present an apparent mystery 
 hanging over him, and it becomes not me to lift the 
 veil further than it is allowed me, or which I know to 
 be consistent with his own interests. He is by no 
 means destitute of fortune, and as to his nobility, it 
 is a question which I will not at present enter upon ; 
 but now, my young inquisitive friend," continued 
 the General, with a display of great good humour, 
 •' having satisfied your curiosity, will you be so kind 
 as to answer me one question : What is the reason 
 that you interest yourself so particularly about this 
 young man ? If you have a design upon his heart, I 
 am an old soldier, and will point to you the surest 
 way of attack." The General, fortunately for Julia, 
 was this moment called away ; she felt that he had 
 put a question to her which she would have found 
 some difficulty in answering, or at least, if she did 
 not wish to commit herself, she must have had re- 
 course to falsehood ; therefore she was by no means 
 sorry when she saw the General hastening away ; 
 and the dance being soon after concluded, she joined 
 her friend, Amelia Fortescue, with whom she sat for 
 some time in deep conversation until they were inter- 
 rupted by Sir Henry Montfort, who appeared with 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 FITZALLAN* 
 
 the scowl of displeasure on his brow, and under the 
 excitation of positive anger. 
 
 *' I hope," he said, in an ironical tone, " that 
 X-ady Amelia is not fatigued with her last dance. I 
 never remember to have seen your ladyship dance 
 with greater spirit." 
 
 *' It was always a favourite dance of mine," said 
 liady Amelia. 
 
 *' Perhaps," said Sir Henr}> " not a little depended 
 upon the partner with whom you danced it ; a 
 favourite dance and a favourite partner are certainly 
 & conjunction very desirable." 
 
 *' O, most certainly," said Lady Amelia, who soon 
 perceived the drift of Sir Henry's irony, " I give you 
 all credit for the sagacity of your remark ; it shows 
 that your education has not been thrown away upon 
 you. I cannot conceive any thing more vexatious 
 than to have a clodpole for your partner, who is every 
 where, where he should not be, and where he ought 
 to be, there he is never to be found." 
 
 *' I had rather dance with a bear," said Julia, " than 
 with such a fool." 
 
 " But if it be vexatious," said Lady Amelia, " to 
 be tied to such a partner for the short period of a 
 dance, what must it be to be tied to a partner for 
 life, whom you can neither respect nor love, and whose 
 mind is so little as to hate the merit which it cannot 
 reach." 
 
 " O horrible ! most horrible !" exclaimed Julia ; 
 *' I should be at cross corners with such a partner 
 during the whole of my life ; and before we came to
 
 FITZALLAN. 131 
 
 lead down the middle of it, he would find that it was 
 the falsest step which he ever took." 
 
 *' May I however ask your Ladyship if some little 
 regard ought not to be paid to the rank and condition 
 of the individual, whom a lady of family may select 
 for a partner ?" 
 
 " I should consider it a direct insult,'* said Lady 
 Amelia, " both to the General and his lady in particular, 
 under whose roof I am now a visitor, were I to refuse 
 my hand to any gentleman, who is a guest here to- 
 night. The very circumstance of his having been 
 invited by them is a guarantee to me for his respect- 
 ability and character." 
 
 *' Indeed !" exclaimed Sir Henry, who did not ex- 
 pect this forcible reply, " then you would at once 
 throw down all distinctions of rank." 
 
 " I know of no distinctions of rank," said Lady 
 Amelia, " under circumstances like the present. I 
 consider that it would have been a most fastidious 
 act in me, and that I should thereby have exposed 
 myself to the just reproof of my friends, if, from a false 
 notion of my superior rank, I refused my hand to any 
 gentleman who solicited it." 
 
 ,t . " And particularly to one," said Sir Henry, " who 
 is also such a proficient in music. How very edify- 
 ing ! how very grand it is to see a man usurping the 
 place of the woman, and rattling over the keys of a 
 pianoforte, as if it were a feat of wondrous daring. 
 I would whip such effeminates through the world, 
 and send them into the nursery to play with chil- 
 dren." 
 
 " I admire talent wherever I meet with it," said 
 k2
 
 132 FITZALLAN. 
 
 Lady Amelia ; " and above all, I admire musical 
 talent; but you must give me leave to say, Sir 
 Henry, that there are other persons than yourself to 
 whom I am amenable for my conduct : if I have 
 acted improperly I must expect their reproof. I will 
 not however continue this conversation any longer ;7p-, 
 come, my dear Julia ;" and casting a severe look of 
 displeasure on the Baronet, she rose with a most 
 dignified air, and joined the party of the General's 
 lady. 
 
 The Baronet stood as if petrified ; he had expected 
 to find in Lady Amelia the pliant, docile, obsequious 
 girl, but he now found her to be one of spirit and 
 of pride; he felt himself completely humbled. He 
 had acted upon his supposed right, as the individual 
 who was acknowledged as her future husband, to call 
 her conduct into question ; and he had now met 
 with such a rebuff as showed him that the right 
 which he had assumed had no foundation at all ; and 
 that he had, in fact, been guilty of a gross act of 
 presumption. Stung with shame at the pitiful part 
 which he had acted, and fearing that his indiscretion 
 might have such an effect upon the feelings of Lady 
 Amelia as to alienate from him even that portion of 
 respect and esteem which she might previously have 
 entertained for him, and thereby close the door to all 
 further intercourse between them, he formed the re- 
 solve, and a most inconsiderate one it was, to 
 wreak his vengeance on the object who had been 
 the cause of him thus embroiling himself with his 
 intended spouse. 
 
 It is singular, but it daily happens in life, that
 
 FITZALLAN. 133 
 
 many persons, who, although they may be conscious 
 to themselves that they have committed an error, so 
 far from attempting to retrace their steps and repair 
 the evil which they have committed, rush headlong" 
 deeper into it ; and that which was at first easy of 
 redress, and which perhaps a few words of concilia- 
 tion would have buried in oblivion, becomes, like the 
 giant avalanche, which was originally but a single 
 flake of snow, set in motion perhaps by the fluttering 
 of the wings of a fly, of destructive magnitude, and 
 the effects of which follow a man through the re- 
 mainder of his life. 
 
 Hector was reclining on a sofa, reposing from the 
 fatigue of the dance, when he was suddenly accosted 
 by Adeline Gordon. 
 
 " You will not be offended, Mr. Fitzallari," she 
 said, " at what I am going to say to you." 
 
 " Offended ! Miss Gordon," repeated Hector. '* I 
 cannot conceive how you can suppose that any thing 
 you can say can give offence. There is only one 
 word which I should feel pained to hear from your 
 lips." 
 
 " And that word is — " asked Adeline, ^^ 
 
 " Hate," replied Hector. 
 
 " A great deal must happen," said Adeline, " be- 
 fore 1 can apply that word to you. But listen to me ; 
 I regret much that you danced with Lady Amelia 
 Fortescue ; I informed you of her engagement to 
 Sir Henry Montfort, and it has excited the anger and 
 mortified the pride of the Baronet." 
 
 " Of what consequence is either to me ?" asked 
 Hector.
 
 13-1 FITZALLANk 
 
 " Perhaps not to yourself," said Adeline, *' but it 
 may be to anofeher. I understand some very un- 
 pleasant words have already passed between Lady 
 Amelia and the Baronet, and the result may, I much 
 fear, be unpleasant to yourself." 
 
 " In regard to myself individually," said Hector, 
 " I fear no consequence that can result from an act, 
 to which not the slightest blame on my account can 
 be attached, but I do most certainly regret that I 
 should have been the innocent cause of any unplea- 
 sant circumstance happening to Lady Amelia." 
 
 " Perhaps you are not aware of the high aristo- 
 cratic notions that prevail amongst the individuals 
 who compose the present assembly, and perhaps in 
 no one stronger than in Sir Henry Montfort." 
 , *' I had been given to understand," said Hector, 
 " that Sir Henry Montfort was a young man of 
 libera] principles, and of superior understanding. I 
 am sorry his present conduct belies that report." 
 
 " Some allowance," said Adeline, " should be 
 made for a man under the influence of love ; for a 
 certain great dramatist has said, that the lover and, 
 the lunatic are nearly allied ; and therefore you have 
 now had an opportunity presented to you of verifying 
 the remark." 
 
 " Am I then to consider Sir Henry," asked Hector, 
 *' in the character of the lover of Lady Amelia? I 
 knew not of any attachment existing between them." 
 " Perhaps not," said Adeline, who in the deep 
 ^art she was now acting, was afraid that she had 
 aid too much ; " but must not every man before 
 marriage be considered as a lover ?"
 
 FITZALLAN. 135 
 
 ^ ** Not exactly," said Hector ; " a person may be a 
 suitor but still not a lover." 
 
 " It is a nice distinction," said Adeline ; *' but 
 let me now entreat you to allow me to be the medi- 
 ator between you and Sir Henry ; and I am certain 
 t-hat if you will permit yourself to be guided by me, 
 the matter will be allowed to drop as the mere ebul- 
 lition of the moment." 
 
 *' I should be truly happy," said Hector, " to have 
 so fair an advocate ; but you will permit me to say, 
 that I am not prepared to make any concession, \xi,^ 
 any acknowledgment of having acted with impro 
 priety." 
 
 " Refrain then," said Adeline, " from showing 
 any further marked attention to Lady Amelia ; do 
 not dance with her again, and the displeasure of Sir 
 Henry will gradually subside." 
 
 " In regard to the displeasure of Sir Henry," said 
 Hector, " it is to me of secondary consideration ; but 
 conscious as I am to myself that the whole of my 
 conduct towards Lady Amelia has been regulated by 
 the most scrupulous attention to propriety, I must be 
 permitted to persevere in that line of conduct until 
 some greater authority than that of Sir Henry steps 
 in to prevent me." 
 
 " And would you not desist," asked Adeline, "were 
 it the particular wish of Lady Amelia herself?" 
 i' ** Most unquestionably," said Hector; " my own 
 sense of propriety would prompt me to do it ; but 
 such a mandate must come from her own lips, or 
 from the mouth of those under whose protection she 
 is now placed."
 
 136 FITZALLAN. 
 
 ** And would you not receive it from one," asked 
 Adeline, " who wishes to warn you of the danger 
 you would incur by persevering in your attention to 
 Lady Amelia, and who cannot be actuated by any 
 other motive than your own interest and welfare ?" 
 
 " I should hold myself highly indebted to that in- 
 dividual," said Hector, " for the disinterested inter- 
 ference on my behalf; but as any marked deviation 
 from my former conduct might be construed into a 
 tacit acknowledgment of having committed an error, 
 I would not follow the advice of that individual." 
 
 This dialogue was here disturbed by the appear- 
 ance of Mr. Bode, who, after apologizing to Miss 
 Gordon for his apparent rudeness, requested Hector 
 to grant him a few minutes' conversation. There 
 was an unusual anxiety depictured on the counte- 
 nance of Mr. Bode, and an agitation by no means 
 natural to a man of his grave and saturnine character. 
 The preceptor retired with his pupil to a distant part 
 of the room ; and after having conversed for some 
 time, Adeline, who had been a watchful observer 
 of all their motions, saw them privately leave the 
 room. 
 
 This act was by no means disagreeable to Adeline, 
 for in some respects it promoted the very end she 
 had in view. She had been informed by Julia of the 
 rather warm altercation which had taken place be- 
 tween Sir Henry and Lady Amelia, and she now 
 saw that an opportunity presented itself of effecting 
 a termination to all intercourse between her Ladyship 
 and Hector Fitzallan. She saw in Lady Amelia a 
 most formidable rival ; sb-? dreaded the power of hei
 
 PITZALLAN. 137 
 
 beauty ; and although it was universally known that 
 her hand was engaged to Sir Henry Montfort, yet it 
 did not follow, that, as Lady Amelia had now been 
 introduced into life, her heart might not yield to the 
 influence of a first love, and thereby at once over- 
 throw all those arrangements which family pride had 
 instituted for her permanent establishment in Hfe. 
 She knew well that parental authority can give away 
 the hand of a daughter, but that it is another power 
 which gives away the heart ; and that all the splen- 
 did advantages which are so vauntingly held forth, 
 or supposed to be derived from a union between two 
 parties equal in rank and opulence, are looked upon 
 by the heart, vivified by love, as mere unsubstantial 
 baubles ; the acquisition of which is not accompanied 
 by any happiness, and all of which would be willingly 
 and joyfully relinquished for the undivided posses- 
 sion of the beloved object. Her penetrating eye had 
 observed, that although the acquaintance between 
 Lady Amelia and Hector Fitzallan was only of a 
 few hours' birth, yet she had secretly watched the 
 motions of both of them, and she perceived what, 
 perhaps, no other eye but that of a woman's would 
 have perceived, that their looks often met each other, 
 and that there appeared to exist between them that 
 sympathetic influence which may be felt, but whichr 
 cannot be described. 
 
 It could not have been foreseen by Lady Amelia 
 that the trifling disagreement which had taken place 
 between herself and Sir Henry should, in a very few 
 minutes, become the general topic of conversation 
 throughout the room, nor perhaps would it have been
 
 138 FITZALLAN. 
 
 the case but for the busy tongue of Adeline Gordon, 
 who having diffused the poison into one ear, has- 
 tened to another, until every eye in the room v^^as 
 fixed upon Lady Amelia to try to discover how a 
 beautiful countenance looks when under the influence 
 of anger. Some antiquated ladies (heaven bless 
 them for the liberality of opinion which generally dis- 
 tinguishes them !) saw in this quarrel the forerunner 
 to a complete schism between the betrothed parties ; 
 whilst others were inclined to throw the whole of the 
 blame on Fitzallan, for having so imprudently in- 
 volved Lady Amelia in so serious an altercation with 
 the individual to whom her future happiness in life 
 was to be intrusted ; for although, and it was well 
 known the dispute was not cf an acrimonious nature, 
 nor possessing, perhaps, beyond the immediate mo- 
 ment, the slightest tendency to produce a permanent 
 dislike to each other, yet before the report had tra- 
 velled half the circuit of the room, it was magnified 
 into a quarrel of the most virulent nature, as one 
 which could not be appeased nor reconciled ; Lady 
 Amelia was represented to have nearly fallen into 
 hysterics, and to have given Sir Henry his formal 
 dismissal ; and this, too, all on account of a plebeian 
 youth, whom nobody knew, and who ought to have 
 been lectured for his presumption in dancing with a 
 lady of title, when there were other ladies nearer his 
 own station in life in the room. The report at last 
 reached the ears of the General. " Where is then 
 Mr. Fitzallan?" he said, looking about the room; 
 and on being informed that he had retired with his 
 tutor, he exclaimed, " By heavens ! but that shall not
 
 FITZALLAN. 139 
 
 be ;" and he hastened towards the door. On passing 
 the place near which Sir Henry stood, he said, 
 *' That man will find that he has no common oppo- 
 nent to contend with, who disturbs the peace of my 
 house and the mirth of my company." On being 
 informed by the servants in the hall that Mr. Fitz- 
 allan had returned home, he despatched one of them 
 immediately, soliciting his return ; and adding, that 
 v/hatever offence he had received should be instantly 
 redressed. 
 
 Hector however returned not, and the assembly 
 soon after broke up.
 
 140 FITZALLAN. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Oh no I never can forget, 
 
 The tones of that sweet voice. 
 Her words I well remember yet, 
 
 They bade my heart rejoice. 
 And memory still with miser care 
 
 Broods o'er them with regret ; 
 Another in this heart may share, 
 
 But her I'll ne'er for<2:et. 
 
 Lady Amelia retired with her flippant compani > ' 
 Julia to their bed-chamber ; but as that is a sanctuary 
 which no masculine eye has yet profaned, it is not 
 possible to disclose the subject of conversation which 
 engrossed the attention of the two females during the 
 operation of undressing. In hazarding the following 
 sentiment we are aware that we may, perhaps, expose 
 ourselves to the imputation of knowing more about 
 such matters than either becomes us in our sexagena- 
 rian state, or that we may be willing to confess ; hut suh 
 silentio, we will venture to whisper it, that with a 
 young and beautiful girl, the thoughts which occupied 
 her mind during the ceremony of dressing before a 
 ball, are in nine times out of ten,' of a very different 
 nature to those which occupy it during the ceremony 
 of undressing after it. A ball room is the field of 
 battle in which love gathers the greatest number of its
 
 FITZALLAN. 141 
 
 laurels, and we wish we were not obliged to add, in 
 which innocence counts the greatest number o(" its 
 victims. The fiends of seduction are there in their 
 native territory, but even their victory was sometimes 
 of difficult attainment until the waltz was intro- 
 duced. We believe it is Werther who says, that he 
 would not allow the girl whom he loves to waltz with 
 another, even were his death to be the consequence. 
 The innocent girl in the aurora of her youth, with the 
 tide of passion almost at its height, to be whirled round 
 and round under the intoxicating influence of music, 
 heart to heart, bosom to bosom, the arm of the liber- 
 fine round her waist, and at the moment when the 
 blood is inflamed by the voluptuous motions of the 
 dance, to be pressed closer and closer to him — can it 
 be expected that female innocence can withstand an 
 ordeal like that? The colour that flushes the cheek 
 oi" the girl under such circumstances is generally 
 taken for the natural glow of exercise, but it is much 
 oftener the blush of maiden innocence at feeling 
 itself in a situation which its innate sense of modesty 
 condemns ; it is the officious tell-tale that the first 
 barrier is broken down, that the struggle has begun, 
 and that great must be the power that can prevent 
 the fall. Let it not be supposed that these remarks 
 are to be considered of general application, or that 
 there exist not individual exceptions in which female 
 virtue has withstood the most fiery ordeal to which it 
 may have been exposed ; we merely point at the 
 danger, happy are those who escape it. 
 
 It has been hinted to us that the conversation oi 
 females after a ball generally turns upon the particular
 
 142 FITZALLAN. 
 
 dress which this or that lady may have worn, the 
 jewels which may have adorned her person, the style 
 in which her hair was dressed, and other such like 
 important and interesting matters : it must, however, 
 be recorded that the conversation of Lady Amelia 
 and her friend Julia had no reference whatever to 
 either of those subjects ; but whether any value 
 ought to be attached to this species of negative in- 
 formation must be decided by the particular taste of 
 the individual ; still we admit, that we certainly 
 would have preferred to have had disclosed to us the 
 real subject of their conversation ^ and it is not 
 improbable that were we to guess at it, we should 
 without much difficulty hit upon the right one ; but as 
 that is a task which every one can accomplish as well 
 as ourselves, we leave it to their own penetrating 
 powers to determine it. 
 
 Lady Amelia lay with her head on her pillow, but 
 whether her eyes closed that night with the name of 
 Fitzallan hovering upon her lips, can only be made 
 known by one of those sprites or gnomes, who are 
 said to watch over the couch of virgin innocence, and 
 who are the bearer of its sighs to that power which 
 knows their source, and which in its own good time 
 will send the wished-for relief. 
 
 But there was one who sought not sleep, who sat 
 with her head resting on her hand, and meditated on 
 the events of the evening, and this person was Adeline 
 Gordon. Feelings of the most conflicting nature were 
 working within her ; the whole passions of her soul 
 were roused ; she had now no common object to gain^ 
 the whole energy of her character was to be put forth.
 
 FITZ ALLAN. 143 
 
 and accustomed as she was to triumph, no doubt of 
 ultimate success rested on her mind. Plan after 
 plan was projected, and each in its turn rejected to 
 make way for another, perhaps still more preposte- 
 rous in its nature than its predecessor — still more 
 difficult in its execution. Hector Fitzallan was the 
 point round which all her wishes, all her desires re- 
 volved ; and perhaps for the first time in her life she 
 felt something within her which might be deserving- 
 of the name of love. A flame had been lighted 
 within her, of the intensity of which she had no pre- 
 vious experience; all before had been coquetry in 
 its most extended sense, the genuine offspring of 
 levity and folly ; hitherto it had been her aim to 
 excite a passion in the youthful heart merely to make 
 it her sport : now she felt as if she wished to raise 
 a flame in a particular breast, that in her own it 
 might burn with equal intensity. Formerly it was 
 enough for her to say, " He is mine," and then she 
 would leave her victim in his torments, with the same 
 indifference as the squirrel throws away the shell after 
 having feasted on the kernel. But now a new era 
 appeared to dawn upon her ; a bright and glittering 
 prospect opened upon her, by which she thought 
 she saw her future happiness confirmed. She doubted 
 not the irresistible power of her charms, for they 
 were weapons which had ever yet borne away the 
 victory. But then Hector Fitzallan was as yet 
 almost a perfect stranger to her ; she knew little or 
 nothing of his former relations in life ; and might 
 not an ardent attachment to another be secretly 
 glowing in his heart ? There was madness in the
 
 144 
 
 FITZALLAN. 
 
 thought. " No," she exclaimed, " he shall not love 
 another, and woe to her by whom he is beloved. 
 She shall become one of misery's dearest children ; 
 the tree of her earthly happiness shall not in future 
 bear a single blossom ; she shall stand in the world 
 a withered, scathed object, for every passenger to 
 spit his scorn upon. I have heard tell, that there 
 is a point beyond which the human heart can- 
 not suffer, and the next moment brings — what ? 
 MADNESS : be it so then ; better that than I not gain 
 my end. I swear Fitzallan shall be mine, although 
 €very human power be arrayed against me. Tears 
 may flow, and a heart may break. I will revel in 
 my victory, and in the fulness of my enjoyment lose 
 all remembrance of the misery which I may have 
 caused another." 
 
 Thus soliloquized this beautiful, but truly vicious 
 girl ; the flickering of her taper told her that it was 
 time to retire to rest, but it may be easily surmised that 
 her sleep was neither sound nor refreshing. Dreams 
 of a portentous nature, the offspring of high wrought 
 passion, inflamed her brain, and depictured to her 
 scenes, which in their realization would have placed 
 her on the pinnacle of human bliss ; but ever and 
 anon arose between them a dark and threatening 
 cloud, from the womb of which burst forth the light- 
 ning, hurled by an invisible hand, and which laid at 
 once the gorgeous fabric of her bliss in ruins. The 
 night passed away, and daylight came but to hurry 
 her on to the execution of those plans, the consum- 
 mation of which appeared now to engross every 
 . faculty of her nature.
 
 FITZALLAN. 145 
 
 Hector Fitzallan was engaged in a very interest- 
 ing conversation with Mr. Bode, when the servant 
 of the General arrived, inviting him to return to the 
 assembly, but Mr. Bode had many cogent objections 
 to urge to his again joining the company, and 
 Hector himself not feeling disposed to disturb the 
 harmony of the meeting by his presence, wrote the 
 following note to the General : — 
 
 " To-morrow with your permission I will wait 
 upon you, and exculpate myself from that charge of 
 rudeness to which 1 have rendered myself liable by 
 my abrupt departure from your house. I wished, if 
 possible, to avoid an unpleasant rencontre, which fromi 
 the temper of certain parties would inevitably have 
 been the case, had my stay been protracted. I en- 
 tertain no fear of any man merely because he bears 
 a title, and you will always find me prepared to 
 teach my enemies how to conduct themselves towards 
 me with propriety and decorum." 
 
 If the presence of Hector at the assembly of 
 the General had in the minds of some of the stifF- 
 starched aristocrats excited wonder and displeasure, 
 that of Mr. Bode was still more unaccountable and 
 degrading. It could not be urged as a pretence for 
 his introduction, that his father was also the friend 
 of the General, and therefore when it was buzzed 
 about that he was nothing more than the tutor of 
 Mr. Fitzallan, the votary of rank bristled up with, 
 indignation, and declared it to be a most mortifying 
 circumstance to be obliged to breathe the same air 
 with a person of so mean a condition. In some 
 respects it must be allowed that Mr. Bode was as 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 FITZALLAN. 
 
 much out of his place, as a monk in the dorinltory of 
 a nun, or an attorney in heaven, — the gravity and 
 austerity of his manners, his manifest repugnance to 
 join in any of the amusements of the evening, his 
 abstraction from all personal intercourse, and (in the 
 opinion of the females) his downright ugly and repel- 
 lent countenance, all conspired to make him the ob- 
 ject of the ridicule of the witlings and the contempt of 
 the females. Mr. Bode, however, remained in igno- 
 rance of the opinion which was entertained of him, 
 and to which, had he known it, he would no doubt 
 have attached a most extraordinary degree of value. 
 A»ball room was to him, as a keen and accurate ob- 
 server of human character, a field of infinite instruc- 
 tion and sometimes of amusement, a scene replete 
 with deception, — an outward display of mirth and 
 happiness with hearts secretly rankling with misery ; 
 the passions of envy, jealousy, and hatred at their 
 height ; libertinism and voluptuousness poisoning 
 the fairest flowers of virgin innocence ; the vicious 
 strengthened in their iniquity ; the virtuous tempted 
 and undone. 
 
 It is not to be supposed that the acts and motions 
 of the mysterious stranger, who to the astonishment 
 of the whole assembly had so unceremoniously in- 
 truded himself into their society, could have escaped 
 the notice of Mr. Bode. Some confused suspicions 
 arose in his mind that the appearance of the stranger 
 had some reference to the developement of the mys- 
 tery which hung over his youthful charge, and he 
 was strengthened in that belief, when he remarked 
 the extreme anxiety which the General displayed
 
 FITZ ALLAN. 147 
 
 when he conducted Hector out of the room. Mr. 
 Bode, therefore, now thought, as he was in confiden- 
 tial discourse with his pupil, that a proper opportu- 
 nity presented itself of obtaining- from him some ex- 
 planation of the extraordinary circumstance, and 
 particularly of the reason which the General assigned 
 for removing him for a time out of the room. Hector 
 was however any thing but communicative, and, in 
 fact, it must be acknowledged that he had very little 
 to disclose, for the General, during their private tete- 
 a-tete, appeared himself to be labouring under an 
 embarrassment, from which he found it diflBcult to 
 extricate himself Hector was convinced that the 
 reason which the General gave for withdrawing him 
 from the room was not the genuine one, but he for- 
 bore to importune him, for Hector was himself so 
 taken by surprise, that he could not connect his ideas 
 sufficiently to sift the business to the bottom, without 
 infringing the rules of politeness towards the General, 
 
 " But," said Mr. Bode, " it still appears to me 
 exceedingly strange, that the General should have 
 invited us to this assembly ; — we were previously 
 entire strangers to him." 
 
 " He explained that circumstance to me," said 
 Hector, " because my father was one of his earliest 
 friends." 
 
 " That is by no means satisfactory to me," said Mr, 
 Bode ; " indeed in some respects it makes the dark* 
 ness still deeper, for I consider it as not the least 
 singular feature in this affair, that the General did 
 ■not disclose himself as the friend of your father 
 before the letter arrived which you received, purporting 
 l2
 
 148 FITZALLAN. 
 
 to be written by your father himself. There is some 
 connexion between these circumstances which I can- 
 not at present unravel. Events are always dependent 
 upon each other like the links of a chain, and it is 
 very often easy to trace them through their entire 
 dependence, until you arrive at the very origin. It 
 is the discovery of that connexion which often 
 enables an individual to prevent an evil, but at all 
 events it generally enables him to compete with his 
 antagonist on better terms than he otherwise would 
 have been able. In the present instance I am well 
 convinced that the letter of your father and the in- 
 vitation of the General stand somehow in the closest 
 connexion with each other, and that they have an 
 immediate reference to the attainment of some parti- 
 cular end, but what that end is, is to me an insoluble 
 mystery." 
 
 It was the secret wish of Hector to turn this 
 conversation into a different channel, for he was 
 afraid that Mr. Bode might be led by association to 
 allude to the fete which the General was to give in 
 honour of his daughter, and to which Hector him- 
 self knew that he was not invited by the General 
 himself, as the signature to the invitation was written 
 in a hand wholly illegible. He also further knew 
 that the cause assigned for the giving of the fete was 
 not the true one ; but being no stranger to the ex- 
 treme prudence and circumspection which distin- 
 guished the whole conduct of Mr. Bode, he knew 
 that were he to disclose all he knew on that head, the 
 fears of Mr. Bode might be so magnified, as to 
 induce him to insist upon his remaining at home^
 
 PITZALLAN. 149 
 
 and absenting himself from the fete altogether. He 
 regarded the ensuing fete 9S one of the most im- 
 portant epochs of his life, for he had been told that 
 his father would be present, and the most sanguine 
 hopes rested on his mind, that he would make him- 
 self known to him, and thereby set at rest for ever 
 the doubted point of his existence. 
 
 In regard to the insult which he had received from 
 Sir Henry Montfort, he declared to Mr. Bode that 
 he would protect his rights and lion our at the ex- 
 pense of life itself Mr. Bode urged every rational 
 argument to dissuade his pupil from adopting so 
 unjustifiable a mode of conduct ; he expostulated 
 with him on the folly of entertaining those chivalrous 
 notions of honour, which prompt a man to place his 
 own life in jeopardy, and perhaps to be the murderer 
 of a fellow-creature, merely because he is afraid the 
 world should deem him deficient in courage ; but 
 the hitherto pliant and submissive youth appeared on 
 a sudden to be transformed into one of the most ob- 
 stinate and uncomplying ; the internal nature of the 
 man appeared to have undergone a metamorphosis, 
 which was not to be accounted for by all the peda- 
 gogic learning which Mr. Bode possessed. Hector 
 was conscious to himself that he had not infringed a 
 single rule of propriety, and therefore he did not 
 consider that any one had the right to impugn his 
 conduct, nor to prescribe to him any rules for that 
 conduct which did not harmonize with his own prin- 
 ciples. 
 
 This part of their discourse naturally led them ta 
 mention the name of Ladv Amelia Fortescue, and
 
 150 FITZALLAN. 
 
 Mr. Bode said, " It really appeared to me that the 
 fascinating girl was by no means indifferent to you ; 
 your every motion betrayed it — particularly when you 
 were playing on the piano-forte. It seemed as if it 
 were your desire by some magic power to summons 
 to your aid all the spirits which could assist you in 
 the conquest of a young and inexperienced heart. 
 Tell me, was I wrong in my conjecture ?" 
 
 *' No," said Hector, with the utmost candour, 
 *' you were not wrong." 
 
 " But," said Mr. Bode, " what benefit can all 
 these frost work castles that you are building in the 
 air be to you ? a single breath of wind will lay them 
 all in ruins. Will you then be able, when you find 
 all your wishes remain unsatisfied — when a dead 
 and blank reality stands before you, to look with the 
 same carelessness and indifference upon the enchant- 
 ing but fleeting illusion that is past, with which a 
 child looks upon the bubble, with its momentary 
 beautiful play of colours, and which suddenly va- 
 nishes, bursting into thin air. I wish not to dis- 
 parage either your birth or your station in life, but 
 consider you are but a plebeian, and she the daughter 
 of an earl. She may become the wife of a Sir Henry 
 Montfort, or of any other person of title or opulence, 
 but — never yours." 
 
 " My dear Mr. Bode," exclaimed Hector, '* you are 
 really begging the question ;when did you ever hear 
 me speak of marriage ? or when did you ever know 
 me to allude to any lady whom I wished to make my 
 ■wife? One thing, however, I will own; I acknow- 
 ledge that I admire the beautiful wherever I perceive
 
 PITZALLAN. 151 
 
 it, and my whole nature must have undergone some 
 strange alteration if I did not revere and almost 
 adore whatever I see that is beautiful in the human 
 form, and you will not surely deprive me of that 
 pleasure ? With me beautiful and good are the 
 same, and virtue dwells in both." 
 
 *' Your premises are just, your conclusions false," 
 said Mr. Bode, " and a little more experience in the 
 world will show you in what that falsity consists." 
 
 *' At all events," said Hector, " you will allow it to 
 be an innocent enjoyment. Are you not enraptured 
 with the view of the firmament in all its starry 
 glory ? but to exalt yourself to it, to make it your 
 own, that is beyond your power. "Would you not 
 blame the individual who would attempt to deprive 
 you of that delight, and what would be your feelings 
 towards him, if, because he could perceive no beauty 
 in the object himself, he were to exclude you from the 
 contemplation of it, and stigmatize it as an act de- 
 grading to you?" 
 
 " I will pardon you, my dear youth," said Mr. 
 Bode, " for the sophistry which you have displayed 
 in meeting my objections, but at least let me advise 
 you not to be solicitous for the society of Lady 
 Amelia, in order that you may not be entangled in 
 the nets of love, and that vou will henceforth show 
 her—" 
 
 " Yes," exclaimed Hector, interrupting him, " if 
 you will promise me at the same time, that you will 
 never more exalt your look to admire the beauty of 
 the heavens — that you will from this moment forget 
 all your astronomical knowledge, and never think in
 
 152 FITZALLAN. 
 
 future that you ever saw a star. Why should I 
 not deh'ght myself with the contemplation of the 
 charms of an angelic woman, in the same mann«er as 
 the florist delights in the beauty of his favourite 
 flower? Beauty is the omnipotence of nature, and 
 J its greatest devotee — its most abject slave. Besides, 
 am I to consider Lady Amelia in the character of a 
 snake that will sting me ? Has her look the power 
 of the basilisk to lure me to my own destruction ?'' 
 ~ " Hector," said Mr. Bode, " listen to your parental 
 friend, to one who may not be long with you. Your 
 passions are awakened, your reason is dazzled, and 
 I much fear that you will fall into some dangerous 
 path, which may lead you to an abyss into which 
 you may fall, never to rise again. It is too often the 
 lot of age to repent for the heedless and irrprudent 
 steps of youth, by years of the keenest remorse and 
 anguish. Let me implore you, be not the destroyer 
 of your own happiness." 
 
 " My worthy friend," said Hector, " I candidly 
 acknowledge that every thing which you have said, 
 sounds in my ears like the dark and mysterious words 
 of the SybiUine. I cannot conceive any thing more 
 innocent, more noble, or animating, than the incli- 
 nation which I feel for Lady Amelia Fortescue. 
 She appears to me like a beautiful picture, before 
 which we stand and gaze, and every moment some 
 new, some unexpected beauty bursts upon us. My 
 common reason, however, tells me, that there are no 
 riches in my power which can ever enable me to 
 make that beautiful picture my own, and even when 
 the time comes that I shall not be able to see her
 
 FITZALLAN. 153 
 
 any more, when our relations in life may be altered, 
 and an iron hand has thrust itself between us, separa- 
 ting us for ever, even then I shall think of her with 
 feelings of secret rapture ; her features, her voice, her 
 angel form, no earthly power can eradicate from my 
 memory. I shall still see and hear her when, trem- 
 bling with age, I stand on the brink of the grave ; 
 when amongst the bright visions of my early days, 
 •the splendid stars of my youth, she will shine the 
 most resplendent, the most glorious of them all." 
 
 Mr. Bode sank into a deep fit of musing ; and in 
 a few minutes said, in a tone of resolution and the 
 most expressive seriousness, " If you mean to persist 
 in this line of conduct, and will not follow my advice, 
 I have no other alternative left me than to make my 
 appeal to your mother. It will be then for her to 
 determine, whether we shall remain any longer in a 
 place so fraught with danger to the future happiness of 
 her only son, or whether the voice of prudence should 
 not force us to leave it instantly. I will not take so 
 serious a responsibility upon myself, nor will I bear 
 the blame of a guilty indulgence and a culpable 
 silence, when I ought to be most loudly heard." 
 
 " Ah 1" exclaimed Hector, " I give you all credit 
 for the learning you possess, but I now begin to per- 
 ceive that the learning of schools is of very little value 
 when we come to mingle in the world. Great is your 
 error if you suppose that a change of place can effect 
 a change in my inclinations. Take me to the hut of 
 the Hottentot, or to the wigwam of the American 
 I ravage, and I shall take that which is within me, — 
 ' with me. Though the ocean may divide us, a
 
 154 FITZALLAN. 
 
 thought, quick as the lightning's flash, will in a mo- 
 ment bear me over the vast expanse of waters to the 
 scenes which I have left ; and to those who made 
 those scenes so dear to me ; I shall then say, the 
 same sun that is now shining upon me illuminates 
 those whom I have left behind me, and I will con- 
 verse with it as with some secret friend, who will bear 
 to them the sighs of my regret, the declaration of my 
 unalterable affection. If you deem it necessary to 
 complain of me to my mother, I doubt not that I 
 shall be able to justify myself in her eyes. She 
 knows well all the intricacies of the human heart ; 
 she is no stranger to my own heart, and she will not 
 hesitate to forgive me ; but I should consider it as 
 the first act of injustice which you ever committed 
 towards me." 
 
 Mr. Bode offered no remark to the latter rather 
 indiscreet expression of the petuous youth, but he 
 abruptly left the room, ^ .aving Hector to his own 
 meditations. It was the first time that any words 
 bordering on a disagreement had passed between 
 them ; and so great was the respect which Hector 
 entertained for his preceptor, that he now almost 
 wished he had been more guarded in his expressions, 
 or that he had shown rather more submission to his 
 counsels. He therefore determined to hasten after 
 Mr. Bode, and to apologize to him for any intem- 
 perate expressions which he might have used ; but 
 to his very great surprise he was informed by one of 
 the domestics, that Mr. Bode had left the house, de- 
 claring that he was going forthwith to the house of 
 General Hamilton.
 
 FITZALLAN. 155 
 
 This circumstance for a moment threw Hector into 
 a state of the greatest perturbation. " To the Gene- 
 ral !" he repeated. " What possible business can he 
 have to transact with him ? at all events it is an act 
 of interference on the part of Mr. Bode by no means 
 justifiable." He now began to reflect that he might 
 have declared himself too explicitly respecting Lady 
 Amelia ; and so strange are the fancies of the lover, 
 he thought, that as all his ideas centered in that one 
 object, those of every other person must have the 
 same tendency. At all events, he was fully per- 
 suaded that the visit of Mr. Bode to the General had 
 no other reference than to Lady Amelia, and therefore 
 he felt a kind of resentment springing up in his 
 breast towards his worthy preceptor, which but a few 
 hours before he did not think himself capable of 
 feehng. With an anxious heart he awaited the 
 return of Mr. Bode ; and he was no sooner informed 
 of it, than he hastened to him, and without waiting 
 for any explanation from him, '* I hear," said he, 
 " that you have been with the General, and I 
 suppose I have been made the subject of your con- 
 versation ; you have perhaps betrayed to him the 
 secret of my love, and you have thereby rendered me 
 ridiculous in the eyes of the world, the consequence 
 of which will be our separation, for I will not endure 
 the shame of it ; and is this the use which you make 
 of the secrets which my simplicity and candour have 
 revealed to you ?" 
 
 " Still, still," said Mr. Bode, laying his hand on 
 the shoulder of Hector in the most friendly manner ; 
 *' be not so hasty, so intemperate, and, let me add
 
 156 FITZALLAN. 
 
 also, so ungrateful. And could you be so much 
 your own enemy as to separate yourself from me, 
 merely on account of an action of which your blinded 
 reason will not allow you to perceive the friendly 
 motive ? I flattered myself your esteem for me was 
 much deeper rooted in your heart ; but the time will 
 come when the whole will appear to you as a trifle." 
 
 " A trifle do you call it," exclaimed Hector, "to 
 play with the dearest, tenderest feelings of the 
 human heart, and to inflict a wound which no after 
 skill of yours can ever heal ?" 
 
 '' I forgive this ebullition of temper," said Mr. 
 Bode; "but still I characterise it as highly un- 
 v/orthy of you. Your confidence in me should have 
 been unshaken ; and, relying on my experience in 
 the world, you should have been convinced, that 
 whatever actions I committed, however harsh and 
 severe they might appear in your eyes, their sole end 
 and aim were your future welfare. Look to my 
 past life, and ask yourself — when or where I was 
 ever neglectful of your interest? and can I of a sud- 
 den have so altered my disposition as to avert my 
 view from them, especially when I see you hurrying- 
 to the brink of an abyss in which your future happi- 
 ness will be engulfed for ever. Have I not hitherto 
 watched over you, as over a treasure of inestimable 
 value ; and shall in one moment the beauty of a 
 female face defeat all my hopes, disappoint all my 
 expectations, and destroy every vestige of your future 
 tranquillity. Behold, my dear Hector, this is one 
 of the first fruits of your passion ; whenever it rages, 
 the blossoms of every splendid virtue decay ; pre-
 
 FITZALLAN. 157 
 
 cepts lose their efficacy, and the most solemn duties 
 are infring-ed. One of the most important crises 
 of your existence is at hand ; you are now standing 
 on one of the crossways of life — one leads to goody 
 the other to evil. You have a monitor by your side 
 who is able to direct you which to adopt ; he takes 
 you by the hand with a parent's feeling ; he reasons- 
 with you, he advises you, he implores you, and you 
 turn away from him as from one whom you may 
 have accidentally encountered, and of whose in- 
 tentions towards you you cannot form a just opinion. 
 Tremble for yourself, my dear youth, before you be 
 obliged to tremble for the calamity which you are 
 inevitably preparing for yourself, if you persist wittv 
 so much obstinacy in rejecting the advice which I 
 now give you. It is your wish to know the purport 
 of my visit to the General. Have you then been a 
 spy upon my actions ? Is the confidence which yoii 
 have hitherto placed in me on a sudden so destroyed, 
 that it has become necessary to place a watch upoa 
 my motions? But will you believe me, when I say 
 that the sole motive of my visit to the General was 
 to solicit him to exert his influence to prevent any 
 hostile rencontre between Sir Henry Montfort and 
 yourself; and I am truly happy to say that I have 
 succeeded to the utmost extent of my wishes ; andsa 
 far from having compromised either your honour or 
 your character, I have expressly declared to tlie Gene- 
 \al that you were wholly ignorant of my having taken 
 upon myself the character of a mediator. The 
 General by no means disapproved of your conduct ; 
 on the contrary he declared it to be no more than
 
 158 FITZALLAN. 
 
 what he expected from the son of his early friend. To-» 
 morrow evening- he requests you to pay him a visit." 
 
 *' To-morrow evening- 1" exclaimed Hector, whilst 
 a high degree of pleasure was visible on his counte- 
 nance. 
 
 *' To-morrow evening," repeated Mr. Bode ; *' biit 
 flatter yourself not with the expectation of seeing any 
 other person than the General." 
 
 " Then for what purport is my presence required?" 
 asked Hector. 
 
 " I presume not," said Mr. Bode, " to question 
 another as to his motives or his views. I have deli- 
 vered the message ; you may decline the invitation if 
 you please." 
 
 " Had your conversation any reference to Lady 
 Amelia r" asked Hector. 
 
 *' It did not become me," answered Mr. Bode, *' to 
 make any allusion to that lady ; and J do sincerely 
 hope that this effervescence of your passion will soon 
 subside, and that when your reason has resumed its 
 power, it will evaporate altogether, like the mist 
 from the mountain top, when the light of the sun 
 darts upon it. Now to your rest, my dear youth ; 
 and I trust to-morrow that you will rise with different 
 feelings, and that your natural good sense will point 
 out to you the necessity of dismissing from your mind 
 all further thoughts of an intimate connexion between 
 Lady Amelia Fortescue and yourself." 
 
 The health of Mr. Bode had been for some time 
 on the decline ; and the late circumstances, which 
 appeared to be so closely connected with the future 
 welfare of his youthful charge, had created such an
 
 FIT Z ALL AN. 159^ 
 
 extraordinary anxiety in his mind, that the malady 
 with which he was afflicted became more severe ; but 
 having- now obtained from Hector his solemn as- 
 surance that he would dismiss from his mind all 
 intention of prosecuting his quarrel with Sir Henry 
 Montfort ^- ey separated for the night.
 
 160 FITZALLAN. 
 
 CHAPTER Vlir. 
 
 We have drain'd the nectar bowl, 
 Fill'd by pleasure to the brim ; 
 
 We have ielt the flow of soul, 
 Till the sense of bliss grows dim. 
 
 Joyously the night has pass'd, 
 
 But the parting comes at last. 
 
 It was midnight, and round a table sat a few young- 
 bacchanalians, their spirits elated with wine ; their 
 theme, the praise of female beauty. The glass was 
 quaffed to those rosy lips which they had tasted 
 last ; favours were boasted of which perhaps liad never 
 been received, and which perhaps never would be 
 granted. Each fancied that in the lovely rising of 
 the virgin bosom he saw a luscious fruit, swelling to 
 ripeness, merely for himself; and in the rich and all 
 fascinating developement of the female form, each saw 
 an object from which was to emanate the supremacy 
 of his earthly bliss. The song went round, the 
 hours flew quickly, and every moment the mirth be- 
 came more obstreperous. At the head of the table 
 sat the Honourable William Monckton, the only 
 son of Lord Dufresne, and one of the most confirmed 
 libertines of the age, a slave to passions of the most 
 dangerous tendency, and wholly reckless of the coa-
 
 FITZALLAN. 16l 
 
 sequences in which the gratification of them might 
 involve him. His father mingled very little in 
 society, but led the life of a recluse on one of his 
 estates in a distant part of the country. He showed 
 not the slightest disposition to interfere in the affairs 
 of his neighbours — but that was no reason why the 
 neighbours should not interfere with his. Reports 
 were prevalent in the vicinity, that in some of his 
 early relations in life, circumstances of rather an ex- 
 traordinary nature had happened, which had had the 
 effect of throwing over his temper a misanthropical 
 gloom, that unfitted him for the enjoyment of any of 
 the social amusements of life. He had been long a 
 widower, and yet the female gossips in his imme- 
 diate vicinity hinted at some female intercourse of a 
 clandestine nature ; and, consistently with the opinion 
 which the world generally entertains of such inter- 
 course, it could be nothing but a criminal one. It 
 was further reported, that his only son was design- 
 edly kept at a distance from the house of his parent, 
 in order that he might not become privy to certain 
 proceedings, which, according to the construction 
 put upon them by the uncharitable and illiberal, were 
 secretly carried on within the walls of it, to the great 
 shame and scandal of those who were the instigators 
 of them. It must, however, be confessed, that in 
 this instance the world (that is, a space included 
 within about five miles in diameter) had some very 
 good grounds for their surmises, although, in regard 
 to the degree of delinquency with which they invested 
 them, they were decidedly in an error. The effect, 
 however, which this estrangement of the lather from 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 FITZALLAN. 
 
 the son produced in the character of the latter was 
 displayed o'n every possible occasion. Subject to no 
 control, at an age when the passions were at their 
 height, and by nature affected with the most vicious 
 dispositions, he ran the round of dissipation, involving- 
 others in the same vortex as himself, and in many 
 instances extricating himself with an extraordinary 
 degree of adroitness, but leaving his companions to 
 abide the forfeit of their guilt. He regarded women 
 as so many fortresses, which were placed in the 
 world for no other purpose than to be attacked and 
 taken ; and it must be admitted that he found many, 
 who by their conduct confirmed him in the truth of 
 his opinion ; and who, instead of enduring a Trojan 
 siege, fell sometimes at the first attack of the be- 
 sieger ; then having laid the fair citadel prostrate in 
 ruins, he hastened on to the next, to enjoy the same 
 guilty triumph. It is a truth, but perhaps it should 
 not be frequently repeated, that the hbertine is by no 
 means an object of dislike to the majority of the 
 female sex ; and Monckton knew so well how to 
 throw such a pleasing veil over his principles and 
 designs, that it not only concealed them, but actually 
 imparted to them the appearance of the strictest 
 honour ; that which was in him actually passion and 
 vice, acquired the semblance of the most refined, the 
 most tender feeling ; that which was in reality sheer 
 arrogance, assumed the guise of a modest conscious- 
 ness of his merit ; and thus, instead of being hated 
 and abhorred by the women, he was their most dis- 
 tinguished favourite. That such a female as Adeline 
 Gordon should fail in chaining such a youth to her
 
 FITZ ALLAN. 163 
 
 car could not be supposed for a moment, but per- 
 haps never was he more mistaken in the character of 
 a female than in that which he had formed of Ade- 
 line ; the levity of her manners, the general freedom 
 which she allowed, and particularly her manifest de- 
 fiance of the opinion of the world, all conspired to 
 instil into him the behef that she was one of those 
 citadels which would not offer any resistance, but 
 would surrender at the first summons. He had 
 however discovered that his calculations were false, 
 and that although he might be allowed, to reach a 
 certain point, beyond that all was hermetically sealed 
 against him : and this arose from the consummate 
 art with which Adeline played her part, the whole 
 tendency of which was to deceive her enthusiastic 
 admirer as to the real sentiments of her heart to- 
 wards him ; but he possessed not the sagacity to see 
 through it, much less the skill to turn to his advan- 
 tage any of those weaknesses, which even the most 
 artful w^om.an will sometimes exhibit at a time when 
 she thinks herself the most secure. The circum- 
 stance of her having danced with Fitzallan had 
 greatly offended him, and he had ventured to express 
 his sentiments on that subject to her in terms of 
 rather a haughty and imperious nature, such only in- 
 deed as the superior would use to his dependant. But 
 Adeline was a most finished coquette ; she appeared 
 to listen with the greatest attention to the animadver- 
 sions of Monckton ; she even coincided in the truth 
 of many of his remarks, and a few moments after- 
 wards he beheld her seated by the side of Fitzallan, 
 conversing with him in the most familiar and playful 
 M 2
 
 164 FITZALLAN. 
 
 manner, and deporting herself towards him as if 
 their acquaintance had been of long duration. She 
 had purposely forborne to inform Fitzallan of the 
 illiberal remarks which had been made by Moncktou, 
 from a fear that it might lead him to relax in his at- 
 tentions towards her, and even perhaps to withdraw 
 himself altogether from her society. It was on the 
 same principle that she had informed Fitzallan of the 
 remarks which Sir Henry Montfort had made on her 
 dancing with Lady Amelia, from the false idea that 
 he would so far pay respect to them as not to offend 
 a second time ; but she found that Fitzallan was not 
 one of those milk-and-water characters, who, having 
 no fixed principles of their own, are wheeled and 
 whirled about^ by the opinions of others with the 
 same servility as the vane turns with every breath of 
 wind that assails it. Not that Fitzallan was at all 
 lowered in the opinion of Adeline by the proud 
 manner in which he received the information respect- 
 ing Sir Henry ; on the contrary, it rather exalted 
 him in her esteem, for it showed her that she had to 
 do with a character of a very different calibre than 
 those which she had hitherto been accustomed to 
 bend to her will, with the same facility as if they 
 were so many half-grown saplings ; and the only 
 question now with her was, what particular line of 
 conduct was she to adopt, to bring so haughty and 
 resolute a character to submission. The greatest 
 happiness of AdeUne was to keep her rivals in a 
 continual state of excitement, hovering between hope 
 and fear ; and although she had not yet received any 
 proofs of the effect which her beauty might have
 
 FITZALLAN 165 
 
 made on the heart of Fitzallan, yet she knew well 
 that the hearts of men resemble flowers, some of 
 which open their calyx immediately to the beam of 
 the sun, whilst others appear unwilling to imbibe the 
 genial warmth ; but the influence at last prevails, 
 and the irresistible power stands triumphantly con- 
 fessed. 
 
 Little, however, did Adeline think how closely the 
 fate of Fitzallan was interwoven with that of Monck- 
 ton, nor did she entertain any idea of the dreadful 
 consequences which would ensue, were she to impli- 
 cate either of them in any act of a questionable 
 nature, or in which their honour or their character 
 might be concerned. 
 
 It was generally known that Monckton was one of 
 the most ardent admirers of AdeUne Gordon, and at 
 the same time her most abject tool in the prosecution 
 of any of her intrigues. There was no action too 
 mean or base to which he would not lend himself 
 to obtain a smile from the idol of his heart ; and so 
 great was his vanity, so weak his penetration, that he 
 fancied himself the object who stood the highest in 
 her affections, and that he had actually so far gained 
 her love as to entitle him to consider himself certain 
 of obtaining her hand whenever circumstances would 
 admit of their union. He was one of the visitors at 
 the ball given by General Hamilton, and had ob- 
 served the marked attention which Adeline had paid 
 to Fitzallan, and from that moment he imbibed an 
 inveterate hatred for him, and suffered no opportunity 
 to escape him by which he could degrade him in the 
 opinion of those with whom he associated.
 
 166 FITZALLAN. 
 
 " I thought," said one of the bacchanafians, "that 
 Fit^allan was to be here to-night." 
 
 *'The dull, prosing philosopher," exclaimed Monck- 
 ton ; " he is fitter for the cloisters of a monastery 
 than the circle of a set of jovial fellows like ourselves, 
 I verily believe the simpleton would turn his look 
 away from the bosom of a girl ; but, by heavens !. 
 he was a happy man last night ; he danced with the 
 two loveliest women in the room ; and by the great 
 toe of the Pope if I do not think that Lady Amelia 
 Fortescue has fallen in love with him." 
 
 *' And why not Adeline Gordon also?" said ano- 
 ther ; "was she not continually flirting with him ?" 
 
 " Curses on him," said Monckton, " but I'll take 
 care he never makes an impression in that quarter. 
 Fill a bumper, my boys — Here's to Adeline 
 Gordon.'* 
 
 The name of Adeline Gordon sounded throughout 
 the room, and high were the encomiums that were 
 passed on her beauty. 
 
 " I think that the man," said one, " who has her, 
 bosom for a pillow must have some foretaste of 
 heaven." 
 
 *' Heaven !" exclaimed Monckton ; "that man 
 must be a fool who wishes to go there whilst Ade- 
 line Gordon is on the earth. It is heaven where 
 she is." 
 
 " I think," said another, " if she had been amongst 
 the hundred and fifty virgins who tempted St, Au- 
 gustine, the blockhead of a saint would not have 
 withstood the temptation." 
 
 * What!" exclaimed Monckton, " it would be a
 
 FITZALLAN. 167 
 
 scandalous profanation to know Adeline Gordon in 
 the arms of a monk." 
 
 " You had rather know her in thfe arms of a 
 Monckton," said another ; " would you not ?" 
 
 " And, by heaven !" exclaimed Monckton, " but 
 that shall one day be the case, when that old cur- 
 mudgeon of a father of mine is gone to keep com- 
 pany with the angels — then, my boys — huzza ! — 
 Adeline Gordon shall be mine. But, come Camp- 
 bell, give us our favourite song ; and then to our 
 homes." 
 
 SOXG. 
 
 The girl we love in our arms, 
 
 The sparkling glass in hand ; 
 'Twas thus our sires spent their time 
 
 In this our Fatherland. 
 And we will not to cowards sink ; 
 Like them we'll ever love and drink* 
 
 Then fill, and drink, and fill. 
 
 Then fill, and drink, and filU 
 
 Duetto. 
 
 And we will not to cowards sink ; 
 Like them we'll ever love and drink. 
 
 Chorus. 
 Then fill, and drink, and fill. 
 Then fill, and drink, and fill.. 
 
 Our fathers are in their graves, 
 The worms have had their prey ; 
 
 But why should that disturb our joy ? 
 Like them we'll have our day. 
 
 We'll raise the ruby goblet high. 
 
 We'll taste the bliss from woman's eye. 
 Then diink, and love, and drink, 
 Thoa drink, and love, and drink.
 
 'M8 FITZ ALLAN. 
 
 Duetto. 
 We'll raise the ruby, &c. 
 
 Chorus, 
 Thea drink, and love, &c. 
 
 Then what is life if wanting love ? 
 
 A desert void of bliss ; 
 The heart's a world without a sun. 
 
 That knows not woman's kiss. 
 'Tis wine that drives all care away, 
 'Tis love that makes this life so gay. 
 
 Then love, and drink, and love, 
 
 Then love, and drink, and love. 
 
 Duetto. 
 'Tis wine that drives, &c. 
 
 Chorus, 
 Then love, and drink, &c. 
 
 The song was scarcely concluded when a servant 
 entered the room, informing Mr. Monckton that a 
 stranger without desired to speak to him, but that 
 no entreaty could induce him to enter the house. 
 
 There may be perhaps in the human soul a pre- 
 scient power, which at the very time when the senses 
 and the understanding are in a state of obscurity is 
 then most efficiently employed in nourishing itself 
 with conjectures and probabilities, and therefrom 
 composes certain results, which we call presenti- 
 ments, because we have perceived neitlier the origin 
 nor the gradual growth of the train of our ideas. 
 That Monckton could not at the moment define his 
 feelings when the message was delivered to him may 
 be traced to the predominant passion of his character, 
 and to the excitation which the copious draughts of
 
 FITZ ALLAN. 169 
 
 wine had occasioned in his brain. He felt, however, 
 as if there were some malignant influence abroad, 
 working- on his spirits; for, from a state of high ex- 
 citement, he sank suddenly to one bordering almost 
 on despondency and fear. He rose gravely from his 
 chair, heedless of the jokes and sneers of his com- 
 panions, and left the room. At the outside of the 
 house he beheld a tall figure patroUng up and down, 
 muffled in a long travelling cloak, and his visage so 
 concealed that his features could not be distin- 
 guished. 
 
 " Is it to me that you wish to speak ?" asked 
 Monckton. 
 
 " It is with you, William Monckton, that I wish to 
 speak," said the figure. 
 
 *' Your business, then, — " said Monckton. 
 
 "Is of an important nature/' said the figure; 
 " and 1 command your obedience to my orders." 
 
 " A power to command me," said Monckton, 
 " implies on my part a duty of submission ; and that 
 is what I do not acknowledge. I admit of no control 
 over my actions, of no foreign interference in my 
 concerns." 
 
 " It were better for you if you had," said the 
 figure ; " but before we part, I think you will find 
 that your independence is not so unlimited as you 
 suppose. To my business ; the time grows on 
 apace. You are invited to the fete which is to be 
 given in a few days by General Hamilton ?" 
 
 *' And supposing that to be the case," said Monck- 
 ton, " what right have you to interfere in it?" 
 
 *' I have so far a right to interfere in it," said the
 
 170 FIT Z ALLAN. 
 
 figure, " that I prohibit you from appearing there on 
 that evening." 
 
 '* Indeed !" said Monckton, with a contemptuous 
 sneer ; *' and may I ask what monarch has sent you 
 as his plenipotentiary with his mandate to interdict 
 me from accepting the invitation of the General ?" 
 
 *' I'll not have my light questioned," said the 
 figure ; " it is sufficient for me to know that I pos- 
 sess it." 
 
 " I know but one individual in the world," said 
 Monckton, " who would pretend to urge his right to 
 control my actions, and he is afar off." 
 
 " And would you obey that individual were he 
 here ?" asked the figure. 
 
 " If he gave me a substantial reason for it," said 
 Monckton, " perhaps I might." 
 
 *' And supposing it were his mere caprice," asked 
 the figure, " would you then attend to it?" 
 
 " No,'' said Monckton. " I have never been 
 taught to bend to the mere caprice of ariy man ; I 
 have nothing of the girl in my constitution." 
 
 " The matter is however determined," said the 
 fio-ure : " you shall not attend the General's fete. 
 It is your father who commands you." 
 
 '* My father 1" exclaimed Monckton. " Is not 
 this an illusion ? My father ! I am quite bewil- 
 dered." 
 
 "You now know me," said Lord Dufresne ; for 
 it was himself. " Ask from me no explanation for 
 -this my most unexpected appearance ; the womb of 
 time is teeming with strange events, and you are 
 ^ot a little implicated in them. Be satisfied that it is
 
 FITZALLAN. 171 
 
 not a trifling occurrence which has drawn your father 
 from his sohtude ; and I now warn you, how directly 
 or indirectly you give any personal annoyance to Mr. 
 Fitzallan." 
 
 " And why not," asked Monckton, " to that indi- 
 vidual in particular." 
 
 *' It is my will," said Lord Dufresne. " I depart 
 to-night; attend to my commands, and beware of 
 Adeline Gordon." 
 
 " How ! what !" exclaimed Monckton, overcome 
 with surprise. " Adeline Gordon I what know you 
 of her.?" 
 
 " Enough to entitle me," said Lord Dufresne, " to 
 warn you of her. Reform your conduct, and you 
 will find in me a father ; until then, never. Farewell." 
 His lordship stalked away, and was soon lost to the 
 view of his astonis?ied son. 
 
 Monckton stood for a few minutes to collect his 
 scattered thoughts ; for this most sudden and unex- 
 pected appearance of his father had so disconcerted 
 him, that he began to think that the whole was some 
 illusion, caused by the fumes of wine working on his 
 brain, and yet the next moment told him that there 
 was too much reality in the whole scene to admit of 
 it being questioned. He became distracted with, 
 doubt and uncertainty, and he began to examine the 
 extent of parental authority, and to bring it within 
 its proper limits. He had long considered it as an 
 established principle, that there was a point beyond 
 which filial obedience cannot be exacted ; and in hi? 
 own mind it was decided that this was a case which 
 fell immediately under that character. He saw not
 
 172 FITZALLAN. 
 
 by what natural right his father had interdicted him 
 from attending the General's fete, and therefore he 
 determined not to conform to it. Pie had there pro- 
 mised himself the enjoyment of the society of his 
 beloved Adeline, and she had assured him, and 
 which he was credulous enough to believe, that she 
 looked forward to the evening when they were to 
 meet with the most heartfelt delight; and were all 
 these golden visions to be swept away in a moment 
 by the mere capricious mandate of a parent, and who 
 perhaps had no other reason to give for his actions 
 than his bare caprice? His spirit spurned the idea 
 of such a tame submission to the assumed authority 
 of a parent, and therefore he determined to act in 
 opposition to it. He returned to his companions, 
 but his wonted flow of spirits appeared to have for- 
 saken him ; to all the inquiries as to the cause of the 
 sudden change in his manners he gave an evasive 
 and sullen answer, attended by the most marked 
 ebullitions of anger on finding himself thus impor- 
 tuned. The hilarity of the company being now dis- 
 turbed, the party soon afterwards broke up ; and 
 each reeled home, keeping his equilibrium as well as 
 his comparative state of intoxication would allow 
 him. 
 
 . The hour was now arrived for Hector to repair to 
 the house of the General, in pursuance of the invi- 
 tation sent to him through the medium of Mr. Bode, 
 but previously to his leaving the house, he repaired 
 to the room of his preceptor, whom he found seriously 
 indisposed, and who excused himself on that account 
 from attending him. " My anxiety," said Mr. Bode
 
 FITZALLAN. 173 
 
 to him, "respecting your future interests is great in 
 the extreme. I can but offer you the counsel of a 
 friend, and tranquil would be my last moments if I 
 thought that you would act up to it. Let your rea- 
 son be your guide, and suffer yourself not to be led 
 away by a syren's voice, which can only lead you to 
 your destruction. I know well the power of female 
 beauty over the youthful heart, but it is either the 
 bliss or the curse of life. Your Mentor cannot be 
 always at your side, but let me entreat you so to re- 
 gulate your conduct, that I may look upon you as 
 my Telemachus, and as such, esteem and respect 
 you. I cannot sufficiently impress it on your mind, 
 that you are now verging towards the most impor- 
 tant period of your life ; one false step, and you are 
 irretrievably lost for ever. Now go, my dear youth, 
 and may the God of the good attend you." 
 
 These expressive words still sounded in the ears 
 of Hector as he pursued his way to the house of the 
 General, and he looked upon them as some prophetic 
 admonition breathed by a guardian spirit to some 
 valued charge. He determined to act in conformity 
 to the advice which he had received, but he no sooner 
 came within sight of the residence of the General, 
 than, as if by some talismanic power, one thought 
 alone expelled all that he had heard from his mind ; 
 and that thought was — Amelia Fortescue. The re- 
 solve which he had taken the moment before was 
 suddenly lost sight of, and the counsels which he had 
 heard faintly vibrated on his mind like the low 
 cadences of the Eolean harp, dying away into silence. 
 He was received by the General with every demon-
 
 174 FITZALLAN. 
 
 stration of friendship ; but there was one for whom 
 his eye was continually in search, yet how greatly 
 was he deceived in his hope. One moment after 
 another passed, and still no Amelia made her appear- 
 ance. Her name often trembled on his lips, but he 
 ventured not to make any inquiry after her. So 
 timid and bashful are the first feelings of a genuine 
 love. 
 
 It has been beautifully said by Schiller, that it is 
 sweet to breathe the air in which a beloved name is 
 mentioned ; and they only are able properly to ap- 
 preciate the feelings which swayed the breast of 
 Fitzallan, who have felt the secretly pleasing influence 
 which the idea diffuses over the heart, that although 
 not actually present, they are still breathing the same 
 air under the same roof as the object of their affections. 
 
 The non-presence of Amelia may however, in a 
 g^reat degree, be attributed to Amelia herself, or 
 rather, perhaps, still more to the loquacity and indis- 
 cretion of Julia. The observant eye of Mrs. Hamil- 
 ton had been upon the alert during the whole of the 
 night of the ball ; and that perhaps which she did 
 not, nor could not see herself, others were so offi^ 
 ciously kind as to see for her, and to buzz it in her ears 
 as a most decided proof of their superior penetration. 
 Mrs. Hamilton knew that it was the first public ap- 
 pearance of Lady Amelia in a ball-room, and there- 
 fore she determined to watch her motions most nar- 
 rowly, to discover if she seemed to give the preference 
 to any particular individual ; and it did not escape 
 her that the look of Lady Amelia was frequently- 
 directed towards that part of the room where Fitz^
 
 FITZALLAN. 175 
 
 allan then happened to be, and consequently no other 
 construction could be put upon that marked attention 
 of her ladyship, than thatFitzallan had made a deep 
 impression on her too susceptible heart. Mrs. Ha- 
 milton was further strengthened in that unpleasant 
 suspicion by the exuberant eulog-iums which Lady 
 Amelia bestowed upon him on the following morning 
 at breakfast. He was, in her opinion, the Adonis of 
 the evening ; and she hesitated not to declare that 
 there was something so manly, so noble, and withal 
 so open and fascinating in his manners, that she 
 actually turned away with disgust from the empty 
 coxcombs who fluttered around her, and who seemed 
 to think that they were to be valued according to the 
 outre fashion of their dress, or the effeminacy and 
 silkiness of their deportment. These praises were as 
 bitter as wormwood to Mrs. Hamilton, and it was 
 her fixed opinion that a rising attachment of that 
 kind should be nipped in the bud before it had taken 
 so deep a root that it could not be afterwards eradi- 
 cated. It may sometimes happen that an individual 
 will by chance light upon a particular routine of con- 
 duct to be adopted towards another, without at the 
 same time possessing any knowledge, whether such 
 line of conduct be applicable to the intrinsic character 
 and dispositions of the individual, and whether, in 
 reality, it be not the very one which of all others is 
 the least calculated to produce the desired end. The 
 character of Lady Ameha was apparently gentle and 
 mild, but it was actually full of fire, of feeling, and 
 of passion ; she was of that warm and glowing nature, 
 that if love once vivified her heart, she would become
 
 176 FITZALLAN. 
 
 an enthusiast, a very martyr to it, discarding from 
 her mind every thought which had no reference to it 
 and bounding proudly over every obstacle which 
 family pride, or personal interest, might throw in 
 her way. She had been intrusted to the care of 
 Mrs. Hamilton for the express purpose of preserving 
 her from any illicit attachment, as the precise period 
 of her marriage was fixed upon, and now the greatest 
 risk was run of that very circumstance taking place, 
 which it was her chief aim and duty to prevent. 
 
 Nothing therefore could be more galling to the 
 feelings of Mrs, Hamilton than to discover that Lady 
 Amelia was involved in a love affair, and that too 
 with a young plebeian, of no family, of no fortune, 
 and who on that very account could never be her 
 husband. She therefore considered it to be her duty 
 to warn Lady Amelia against forming any attach- 
 ment either to Fitzallan, or indeed to any other person, 
 and she secretly commissioned Julia to keep a strict 
 eye upon her, and to convey to her immediate in- 
 formation of any act of a clandestine nature which 
 might take place between Lady Amelia and Fitz- 
 allan. Mrs. Hamilton was, in the true sense of the 
 word, a very good sort of a woman ; but every good 
 woman is not a wise woman ; and no more striking 
 proof could be adduced that she was not the latter, 
 than the commission which she had intrusted to 
 Julia. It was a preposterous idea to suppose that a 
 girl of the volatile and intriguing disposition of Julia 
 should on a sudden enact with fidelity the part of the 
 vigilant matron, or the watchful guardian of the 
 Hesperian fruit, and such a luscious fruit too as
 
 PITZALLAN. 177 
 
 Lady Amelia exhibited herself. The only excuse 
 therefore that can be made for Mrs. Hamilton is, that 
 she was actually ignorant of the real character of 
 Julia, and that she did in reality suppose that she 
 would enter as warmly as herself into the precau- 
 tionary measures which were to be adopted on a 
 business of such vast importance. Julia, however, 
 undertook to further the views of Mrs. Hamilton, 
 although in her heart she determined to remain, 
 faithful to her friend. This conduct may appear not 
 exactly justifiable in the eyes of the rigid moralist, 
 and will no doubt draw down upon the head of Juha* 
 the bitter censure of the confirmed prude ; but we 
 pretend not to draw our characters as the Chinese 
 their faces, without the slightest shade; for although' 
 we know that there is much of heaven in the compo- 
 sition of man, ay, and of woman too, yet we also know 
 that it is strongly amalgamated with much that is natu- 
 ral to another and a lower place. The brightest parts 
 of a picture are rendered more prominent and beau- 
 tiful by the comparative depth of the shades, and we 
 are not quite certain whether the virtues of a woman 
 be not rendered more striking and impressive by 
 'hose little egaremens to which the sex are so ad- 
 dicted ; at all events it is sometimes those very wan- 
 derings which render them so dear to us. 
 
 It was on the morning of the day that Fitzallan 
 was expected at the General's, that Mrs. Hamilton, 
 Lady Amelia, and Julia were sitting in the boudoir 
 of the former, when she formed the resolution of 
 commencing her system of coercion with Lady 
 Amelia ; and addressing her in rather an authorita- 
 
 VOL, I. N
 
 178 FITZALLAN. 
 
 tive tone, she said, " It is my wish, Lady Amelia, that 
 you confine yourself during this day to your own 
 apartment, you appear not to have completely reco- 
 vered from the fatigue of the ball, and your health is 
 of the first importance." 
 
 " I have no reason," said Lady Amelia, " to com- 
 plain of the state of my health ; and as to the fatigue 
 which I endured at the ball, one night's rest wholly 
 restored me ; therefore if my health be the only cause 
 of my confinement to my room, there will be no neces- 
 sity for your precautionary measures. Perhaps you 
 may be in expectation of some particular visits to-day 
 at which my presence may not be agreeable." 
 
 " I make no doubt," said Mrs. Hamilton, "that 
 we shall see Sir Henry Montfort." 
 
 " As to Sir Henry," said Lady Amelia, " he must 
 be considered as my shadow. But is no one else 
 expected?" 
 
 " I think I heard the General say," said Julia, 
 " that he expected Mr. Fitzallan this afternoon." 
 
 " Well," said Mrs. Hamilton, casting a severe 
 look of displeasure on Julia, " and supposing that to 
 be the case, how can it in the least concern Lady 
 Amelia?" 
 
 " Not particularly," said Lady Amelia, with an 
 assumed indifference, and averting her face from 
 Mrs. Hamilton ; " but I must own I should like to 
 hear him play again the fantasia of Mozart." 
 
 *' Indeed 1" said Mrs. Hamilton, archly, " biit let 
 me remind you not to forget the aim for which you 
 were sent hither ; and let it be your first considera- 
 tion, circumstanced as you are in regard to Sir Henry
 
 FITZALLAN. T7^ 
 
 Montfort, to deport yourself towards all other young" 
 men with the greatest reserve." 
 
 " I am not conscious," said Lady Amelia, with 
 becoming pride,, " that any part of my conduct 
 should have exposed me to that reproof; and in re- 
 gard to Sir Henry, I believe him to be a very worthy 
 3-oung man ; but I know not how to account for it, I 
 do not think I shall ever like him as my husband." 
 
 " How ! what !" exclaimed Mrs, Hamilton, rising 
 from her chair, her cheeks reddening with anger. 
 " Did I hear aright ? Is it possible that what you 
 have now said are the real sentiments of your mind? 
 and are the plans which your parents have laid down 
 for your future happiness to be overthrown ; their 
 dearest hopes frustrated in a moment by the mere 
 caprice of their disobedient child ?" 
 
 " Perhaps," said Lady Amelia, " their ideas of 
 what may constitute my future happiness may be 
 founded on wrong principles." 
 
 " Impossible, foolish girl," said Mrs. Hamilton ; 
 " their prudence has selected for you one of the most 
 eligible matches in the country." 
 
 " In which," said Lady Ameha, " my own heart 
 is to have no voice whatever." 
 
 " It is impossible," said Mrs. Hamilton, " not to 
 esteem the individual who is destined to be your 
 husband." 
 
 " Is there nothing more than esteem requisite," 
 asked Lady Amelia, " to render the married state 
 happy ?" 
 
 " It is the very foundation of matrimonial happi- 
 Bess," said Mr^. Hamilton ; " but at present I will 
 n2
 
 180 FITZALLAN. 
 
 not pursue this conversation further. I shall consi- 
 der it my duty to apprize your parents of the senti- 
 ments which you have just now expressed, and I 
 shall know what advice to give them. Now retire to 
 your room." 
 
 Lady Amelia obeyed the order ; but the result of 
 this conversation was, that she formed the resolution 
 never to give her hand where she could not bestow 
 her heart. 
 
 Whatever may be said of the caution and the pre- 
 caution of parents and relations, when the affections 
 of those intrusted to their care are concerned, it sel- 
 dom happens but that the ingenuity of love triumphs 
 over both ; and it cannot be doubted that an ex- 
 treme vigilance is often the parent of a thousand 
 stratagems and artifices which never would have been 
 thought of, nor projected, but for the severity of the 
 restrictive measures which it has been thought proper 
 to adopt. The confinement of Lady Amelia to her 
 room was, by the worthy Mrs. Hamilton, considered 
 to be the very quintessence of a sound and discreet 
 judgment ; and the idea of setting Julia as a guardian 
 over her, was, if possible, a conception of a still 
 brighter cast ; but love is like the watery element, 
 the greater the opposition the greater the force ; and 
 amongst the singularities of this most singular world, 
 it is not the least singular, that a woman who has 
 passed the ordeal herself should not retain some re- 
 membrance of what her own feelings were on the 
 arrival of that most important of all moments in the 
 life of a female, when the heart is called upon to sub- 
 mit to the first impulse of a mighty passion, , and
 
 FITZALLAN. 181 
 
 that she should not recollect how ineffectual and 
 abortive were all restraint and control that might 
 have been attempted to be exercised towards her. 
 Had Mrs. Hamilton taken the trouble to read only 
 one page of the history of her early life, her conduct 
 towards Lady Amelia would have been the direct 
 reverse to that which she adopted ; for the very cir- 
 cumstance of her ladyship being restricted from seeing 
 Fitzallan only tended to make her think the more of 
 him ; and it had also further this injurious tendency, 
 that it instilled an idea into the head of Julia, which 
 said idea is not an original one, for it has floated in 
 and inflamed the heads of hundreds of love-sick girls 
 before her time, that as it appeared some strong con- 
 trol was to be exercised in preventing all free and 
 open intercourse between Lady Amelia and Fitzallan, 
 the question then naturally presented itself — in what 
 manner it could be accomplished in a secret and 
 clandestine manner; and this is nine times out of 
 ten the immediate result of an opposition to the af- 
 fections of the heart, nor does it require two appren- 
 ticeships in the school of man, not to know what is 
 the jieneral result of those clandestine meetings. In 
 the patriarchal ages, when nature only was the guide, 
 and the factitious and ceremonious institutions of 
 what is termed civilization were unknown, love had 
 only one place of assignation ; and that was some 
 sequestered spot, where no eye but that of heaven 
 could penetrate, and where that same heaven gave 
 its assenting smile, rejoicing in the bliss of its crea- 
 tures ; but in more modern times, fashion, and, we 
 might add, a lax and degenerated system of morality
 
 182 FITZALLAN. 
 
 have invented other places, such as bazaars, exhibi- 
 tions, theatres, confectioners, and mihiners' rooms ; 
 and last of all, the most convenient, as being the 
 least suspicious, having the cloak of rehgion to 
 cover them — the conventicle of the Methodist and the 
 Independent, and the church of the Orthodox. It 
 was to the latter that Julia determined to bend her 
 attention ; for she had only to discover to what 
 church Fitzallan resorted, to enable her at once to 
 carry her plans into execution, and the result will 
 show what an artful and intriguing girl is able to 
 accomplish when she has once set her mind upon 
 it. The female mind is infinitely inventive when 
 the subject is the conquest of a heart. A woman of 
 art and stratagem can impart a power to every 
 thought, to every word a fire, to every look a dagger, 
 to every tear (if it be her will) a despot's power. An 
 artful woman can merely, by the force of her artifice, 
 effect that in a moment on which the whole acuteness 
 of our own sex would have laboured in vain for a 
 century. 
 
 It was doubtless owing to the sentiments which 
 Lady Amelia expressed in her conversation with Mrs. 
 Hamilton, and which she lost no time in communi- 
 cating to the General, that the latter considered it 
 his duty to give the following admonitions to Fitz^- 
 allan. For some time their conversation was of a 
 desultory nature, touching on subjects of httle or no 
 interest to either ; but Fitzallan evidently perceived 
 that it only required a single expression to bring the 
 General to the real subject, for which he supposed 
 bis presence w^s required, Fitzallan studiously
 
 FITZALLAN. 183 
 
 avoided giving the General any opportunity of intro- 
 ducing it ; for although it was uppermost in his 
 heart, so contradictory and inconsistent are often the 
 operations of the human mind, yet he wished not to 
 enter upon it at all, but the General adroitly brought 
 it about by saying, " It was delightful to me to see 
 such a blaze of female beauty around me on the night 
 of the ball. I can remember the time when I should 
 have fallen at the feet of a girl like Adeline Gordon," 
 
 " There is a great difference, General," said Hec- 
 tor, " between a proud commanding beauty, who 
 seems conscious of the charms she possesses, and who 
 throws out her allurements with the sole view of a 
 conquest, and the retired, unassuming one, who cap- 
 tivates us by her simplicity, and enchants us by her 
 diffidence. The former I can compare to the gaudy, 
 gorgeous tulip ; the latter to the drooping, modest 
 snowdrop." 
 
 *' You are perhaps right in your principles," said 
 the General ; " but under such circumstances we are 
 not always under the subjection of self-control. It 
 appeared to me, however, as if Lady Amelia Fortes- 
 cue made a deeper impression on you than Miss 
 Gordon. Nevertheless I deem it right to inform 
 you, that there are some objects so far above us, that 
 it becomes presumptuous in us to attempt to reach 
 them ; it is prudent in us to regulate our wings ac- 
 cording to the flight which we have to take. Parti* 
 cular circumstances, which I am not at liberty at 
 present to explain to you, attach me strongly to you, 
 therefore it would give me great concern, if by any 
 part of your future conduct you were to place me in
 
 184 FITZALLAN. 
 
 the dilemma of saying- some severe truths to you. 
 For your future guidance, however, let me assure 
 you, that the hand of Lady Amelia is no longer free, 
 and therefore you must henceforth look upon her as 
 a sacred character." 
 
 *' General !" exclaimed Fitzallan, overcome with 
 surprise at the speech which he had heard, " I am 
 utterly at a loss to conceive what can have given rise 
 to the idea in your mind, that I entertained the most 
 distant thought of paying my addresses to Lady 
 Amelia. Was any part of my conduct at the ball of 
 so striking and unequivocal a nature as to give you 
 any just grounds for the serious admonition which you 
 have just given me ? I have examined it minutely, 
 and I find nothing in it either suspicious or deserving 
 of reproof. But, General, you have only to com- 
 mand, and I will never again touch the threshold of 
 your house." 
 
 '* Not so hasty, my dear young man," said the 
 General ; " you have wholly misunderstood me. A 
 little wholesome advice given at a seasonable time is 
 of golden value when it is profitably made use of. It 
 is my wish to see you often at my house, but that can 
 only take place under certain conditions and restric- 
 tions, to which your own good sense will show you 
 the propriety and the necessity of conforming. You 
 v/ill therefore confer on me a particular favour, if at 
 the ensuing fete, you will not dance with Lady Ameha 
 more than once. You know not the world as well as 
 I do ; it has an evil, suspicious eye, and a still more 
 base and poisonous tongue." 
 
 " You have only to express your wish," said Fitz-
 
 FITZALLAN. 185 
 
 allan proudly, " and I will absent myself from the 
 fete altogether. I find no pleasure in an assembly 
 where I am obliged to regulate my conduct accord- 
 ing to the whims and humours of other people." 
 
 " Rather than you shall absent yourself," said the 
 General, " Lady Amelia herself shall not attend the 
 f6te." 
 
 " If I am to be the cause of Lady Amelia being de- 
 prived of the pleasure which she anticipates on that 
 evening," said Fitzallan, " I will most assuredly 
 absent myself." 
 
 " Your attendance is most indispensable," said the 
 General ; " the reason of it I am not allowed to dis- 
 close to you. It is your birth-day, and — " the Gene- 
 ral suddenly checked himself, — " but as your friend, 
 I wish to warn you of the danger into which you are 
 likely to fall, and I thereby obviate all chances of an 
 open rupture between us." 
 
 " I will take care so to regulate my conduct to- 
 wards every one," said Fitzallan, " that at the same 
 time that I will not give any offence, I will not re- 
 ceive an insult without revenging it." 
 
 " No more at present," said the General ; " we 
 will now retire to the supper room." 
 
 This was music to the ears of Fitzallan ; he 
 doubted not that he should there see Lady Amelia, 
 and he entered the room with the General, his heart 
 palpitating with the excess of his feelings, but fearful 
 at the same time that his embarrassed demeanour 
 might betray him to the company. On his entrance 
 no person was present but Mrs. Hamilton and two 
 other ladies of a particular condition in life, who
 
 186 FITZALLAN. 
 
 having passed their grand climacteric "in a state of 
 single blessedness," are generally to be seen at the 
 quadrille table, and on the following morning are 
 observed going the round of their acquaintance to 
 disclose any new discovery which they may have 
 made in the private affairs of a family, and to edify 
 each other with their praises of the great advantages 
 and delights of the virgin state. That Fitzallan 
 should not find himself at home in a society like this 
 may be easily conceived, for he had not yet learnt the 
 difficult art of adapting himself to whatever company 
 he might be thrown into ; and certainly it must be 
 allowed that the society of an Amelia Fortescue or 
 an Adeline Gordon possesses greater charms for a 
 youth of twenty, than the cold, stiff, formal demea- 
 nour of the antiquated prude. Fitzallan was not 
 intimately acquainted with either of the visitors of 
 Mrs. Hamilton, although he knew one of them to be 
 a walking synonyme for scandal ; and if there had 
 been such an office as a purveyor of calumny to the 
 "royal family existing amongst the many useless ones 
 for which the people of this country have to pay for 
 the maintenance of the dignity of royalty, (and why 
 not a purveyor of calumny as well as a purveyor of 
 asses' milk, both of which we know to be equally 
 palatable to certain of the royal tastes,) this lady 
 would have far outstripped every candidate that 
 might have presented herself for the office. She 
 could not endure to behold the sparkling eye^ the 
 rosy cheek, and the redolent bosom of the youthful 
 beauty. She saw in the first something that she 
 would not tell, in the second somethino- that she could
 
 FITZALLAN. 187 
 
 not tell, and in the third something that should not be 
 told at all. But when she combined all the three, and 
 saw them in lovely union in one person, that person 
 was immediately to her the object of her most invete- 
 rate hatred, and no opportunity was lost of vilifying 
 and deteriorating her character. In fact, this lady 
 was one of those pests of social life which strew their 
 mildew over human happiness ; and who, writhing 
 under their own disappointed hopes, gloat themselves 
 with the destruction of another's joy. 
 
 Whilst the general had been closetted with Fitz- 
 allan, Mrs. Hamilton and her two visitors had been 
 discussing the respective merits of the several female 
 authors by whom the present age is so distinguished, 
 and the triumvirate (if we may be allowed the iri- 
 cism) had definitively settled the point that Miss 
 Landen, in her novel of Romance and Reality had 
 shared the same fate as Walter Scott when he wrote 
 his Battle of Waterloo, at which 
 
 None fell by sabre or by shot, 
 One half so flat as Walter Scott. 
 
 And further, that Mrs. Barry Cornwall Wilson, in 
 Tier Anacreontics, (which, en passant, is rather a 
 curious department of poetry for a lady to enter 
 upon,) as well as in her amatory effusions, ought to 
 be arraigned at the bar of criticism for her wilful 
 murder of English grammar ; and they were pro- 
 ceeding to recommend to Mrs. Hemans, in the forma- 
 tion of her couplets not to let one line march upon 
 stilts, whilst the other comes limping, hobbling after, 
 as if 'it had not a foot to stand upon, when the door
 
 188 FITZALLAN. 
 
 opened, and the General and Fitzallan presented 
 themselves. 
 
 The literary disquisition ended with the appear- 
 ance of the g-entleinen ; and Mrs. Figgins, (who can 
 deny that there is something highly literary con- 
 nected with the name ?) laying on the table one of 
 the Annuals, addressed herself to Mrs. Hamilton. 
 
 " Is it not a great pity, my dear Mrs. Hamilton," 
 said Mrs. Figgins, " that Mr. Monckton will not 
 marry that girl, Adeline Gordon, at once, before 
 something worse happens to her." 
 
 The General and Fitzallan seated themselves at the 
 chess table, 
 
 " I do not think," answered Mrs. Hamilton, 
 *' that Mr. Monckton shows any inclination for mar- 
 riage." 
 
 " No," said Mrs. Figgins, " it is not to be won- 
 dered at that there are so many unmarried women in 
 the world, when the young men can get such forward 
 husseys to be their companions. Marriage is then 
 never thought of; and in regard to Adeline Gordon, 
 the whole of her conduct is disgraceful to the virtue 
 and purity of the female character. I am given to 
 understand that the flightiness of her conduct at 
 your ball a few evenings ago was past all endur- 
 ance." 
 
 " It becomes me not," said Mrs. Hamilton, " what- 
 ever may be my private opinion, to express myself 
 disrespectfully of the conduct of any of my visitors. 
 Miss Gordon's high flow of spirits may sometimes 
 carry her beyond the limits of what you may be 
 pleased to call strict decorum, but I am not disposed
 
 PTTZALLAN. 189 
 
 on that account to attribute any vicious disposition 
 to her." 
 
 " Why I am informed," said Mrs. Figgins, " that 
 it was the very reverse of decorum; first flirting 
 with one, then flirting with another, and flouncing" 
 and bouncing about every quarter of the room; and 
 I was further told that her behaviour towards one 
 young gentleman, who before that night was a per- 
 fect stranger to her, was actually disgustingly forward 
 and impudent." 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton directed a significant look towards 
 Fitzallan, but he was at that moment too intent on 
 the game before him to notice it, and addressing 
 herself to Mrs. Figgins, she said, " I am not able to 
 decide upon the truth of your statement, for I was 
 too much occupied in my general attention to my 
 company to take such particular notice of the con- 
 duct of any individual." 
 
 " I assure you, my dear Mrs. Hamilton," said Mrs. 
 Figgins, " that I have it from the most indisputable 
 authority that Miss Gordon was heard to say to a 
 particular friend, that if Lady Amelia Fortescue had 
 not been in the room, the stranger youth would 
 have been dangling at her train the whole of the 
 evening." 
 
 " Check to your king," exclaimed the General. 
 
 The attention of Fitzallan was wholly diverted 
 from the game. He had heard a name mentioned, 
 the sound of which penetrated to his heart, and he 
 was anxious to catch every word that had any allu- 
 sion to the object who bore it. 
 
 ' Check to your king," repeated the General,
 
 190 FITZ ALLAN. 
 
 " Of what are you thinking", Fitzallan? you appear 
 on a sudden as if you had altogether forgotten your 
 game." 
 
 " I — I — I was only thinking," stammered Fitz- 
 allan, " that — that — there I interpose my bishop." 
 The gentlemen continued their game. 
 
 " Do you think it probable," said Mrs. Hamilton,- 
 " that Miss Gordon could be so weak as to express 
 herself openly in that manner, whatever her private 
 feelings may have been?" 
 
 " There cannot be a doubt of it," said Mrs. Fig- 
 ^ins ; " I have my information from Mrs. Jenkins, 
 who had it from Mr. Thomson, to whom it was told 
 by Miss Johnstone, a particular friend of Miss Gor- 
 don's. There is not a doubt of it, I can assure you, 
 my dear Mrs. Hamilton." 
 
 " Check mate," exclaimed the General ; and the 
 gentlemen rose from the table. 
 
 " Mr. Fitzallan," said Mrs. Hamilton, " do show 
 yourself a gallant knight, and espouse the cause of a 
 lady fair, against whom Mrs. Figgins has brought a 
 serious charge." 
 
 " Why I do declare," said Mrs. Figgins, "that 
 the name of Fitzallan is v^ry like that of the gentle- 
 man who fell over head and ears in love with Miss 
 Gordon." 
 
 " He is the very person," said the General ; *' and 
 were I of his age, I should perhaps fall into the same 
 predicament. I pronounce Miss Gordon to have 
 been the most beautiful girl in the room." 
 
 " Well ! this is vastly strange," said Mrs. Figgins ; 
 *^ and you are really the gentleman, Mr. Fitzallan,
 
 FITZALLAN. 191 
 
 with whom Miss Gordon is represented to have be- 
 haved with so much impropriety." 
 
 *' Pardon me, madam," said Fitzallan, *' I had 
 certainly the pleasure of being introduced to Miss 
 Gordon ; and I am able, as far as my own observa- 
 tion extended, to contradict in the most positive terms 
 the imputation which has been cast upon Miss 
 Gordon's character." 
 
 " True, sir," said Mrs. Figgins ironically, " as far 
 as your observation extended ; for one charge which 
 Miss Gordon brings against you is, that you appeared 
 to be so enraptured with Lady Amelia Fortescue, as 
 to have no eyes for any other person in the room, and 
 therefore it was very natural for her to feel herself 
 mortified. A girl like her, who has the vanity to 
 suppose that there is not such another beauty in the 
 world, cannot be supposed to speak well of her 
 rival." 
 
 Fitzallan was completely confounded, nor did his 
 embarrassment escape the observation of Mrs. Hamil- 
 ton, in whose breast some suspicions immediately 
 rose not very favourable to the future hopes of Fitz- 
 allan. Fortunately for him, at this critical juncture 
 Julia Manners entered the room, and having greeted 
 Fitzallan in the most friendly manner, she informed 
 Mrs. Hamilton that her presence was immediately 
 requested by Lady Amelia. 
 
 " And shall we not have the pleasure of seeing 
 Lady Amelia this evening?" asked one of the ladies. 
 
 " She is not yet quite recovered from the fatigue of 
 the ball," said Mrs. Hamilton, " and therefore I have 
 recommended quiet and rest to her for a little time."
 
 192 FITZALLAN. 
 
 Thus saying, she left the room in company with 
 Julia. 
 
 The spirits of Fitzallan were broken for the re- 
 mainder of the night. He had no expectation of 
 seeing; Lady Amelia, and he felt such a secret dislike 
 towards his two antiquated companions, that he was 
 not sorry when the time arrived for his departure. 
 He took his leave, leaving behind him the impression 
 on the minds of Mrs. Figgins and her companion, 
 that he was a dull, stupid, prosing, senseless kind of 
 a young fellow. 
 
 On his homeward way the mind of Fitzallan was 
 in an unaccountable state of perplexity and anxiety. 
 He felt that his whole nature was like an instrument 
 out of tune ; all was discord and dissonance. He 
 tried to bring his ideas to one settled point, and to 
 reconcile them with each other so far, as to guide 
 him to some decisive act, by which he could extricate 
 himself from the net which appeared every day to 
 entangle him more and more within its meshes. He 
 had however so far come to the determination to send 
 an apology to the General for not accepting his in- 
 vitation, when a circumstance occurred, which at 
 once gave his thoughts a wholly different turn, for 
 on passing along one of the dark streets which led 
 to his home, he was accosted by a female, whose 
 features he could not distinguish, and who on in- 
 quiring if his name was Fitzallan, and on being 
 answered in the affirmative, slipped into his hand a 
 note, and then disappeared, with almost the velocity 
 of a supernatural being. Fitzallan hastened home, 
 and the first step which he took was to read the letter,
 
 FITZALLAN. 193 
 
 which contained the following lines, evidently written 
 in a counterfeit hand. 
 
 " Wisdom, foresight, prudence, and perseverance, 
 will certainly lead you to the end which you have in 
 view. Precipitation, impetuosity, and inconstancy- 
 will be the grave of your peace. At the General's 
 fete I will explain myself further. Be upon your 
 guard against Lady Amelia Fortescue ; she is young, ^ 
 but she is This as a warning to you. 
 
 " DOMINA." 
 
 The com.mencement of this note imparted no un- 
 common degree of pleasure to Fitzallan, but the 
 close of it afflicted him with very different feehngs ; 
 the whole of it, however, plunged him. in the greatest 
 embarrassment. By whom was it written ; and who 
 could be the individual who could think himself en- 
 titled to warn him against Lady Amelia? Was the 
 design evil or good ? was it from a friend or foe ? 
 Its great ambiguity declared that it might proceed 
 from either. The immediate effect of the note, how- 
 ever, was a determination on the part of Fitzallan, 
 coute qui coute, to attend the General's fete. It was 
 too evident to him that some secret influence was at 
 work with him ; but whether for his benefit or his 
 injury he was at a loss to decide. Some faint suspi- 
 cion at times floated o'er his mind that his mother 
 had some participation in the scenes which were now 
 enacting around him, for her conduct appeared to 
 him to be daily more and more enveloped in mys- 
 tery ; and her manifest reluctance to give him any 
 explanation of her motions tended, in a very parti- 
 cular degree, to confirm him in his opinion. He 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 194 FITZALLAN. 
 
 passed an almost sleepless night ; he regarded him- 
 self as the subject of a wayward destiny, and he 
 knew not where to look for a pilot who was able to 
 guide him through the shoals and quicksands with 
 which he was surrounded.
 
 riTZALLAN. 195 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Oh ! lay me not in the darksome vault, 
 
 Or the crowded church)- ard's soil, 
 Midst the thronging gravestone's record brief, 
 
 Of the stern destroyer's spoil ; 
 Noi bury me in the cloister'd aisle, 
 
 With prayer, or booth, or bell ; 
 For all unheard o'er my silent tomb. 
 
 Would the pealing anthems swell. 
 But bear me far — Oh ! far away. 
 
 To that remember'd spot ; 
 There only could my spirit find 
 
 The sleep that waketh not. 
 
 The storm raged loudly, and o'er the dying embers 
 of his fire sat, deeply immersed in the madness of his 
 grief, the veteran Major Arnfeld. " And thus," said 
 he, " with one blow has the once fair fabric of my 
 earthly happiness been levelled with the ground. 
 What have I now to do with the world ? I sit as one 
 on a rock with ocean's weltering waves around me ; 
 the last remnant of humanity, with naught to love, 
 or fhat can love me. I look around me, and she on 
 whom I doated, who was entwined with every fibre 
 of my heart, what is she now ? — dishonoured, dis- 
 graced ; lost, lost for ever. My fair and untarnished 
 name is now spoken with contempt ; infamy follows 
 me whithersoever I go ; and shall I live and endure 
 o2
 
 196 FITZALLAN. 
 
 this weig'ht of suffering ? shall he too live and witness 
 my disgrace? shall he see my once beloved child 
 hooted at, pointed out, as if she were one that was 
 an outcast from the herd of human beings, too base 
 and guilty for them to hold communion with ; and 
 does he think, that because some noble blood flows 
 in his veins, that he shall escape my vengeance? 
 Does he think that his nobility invested him with 
 the privilege of effecting the ruin of as sweet a flower 
 as ever bloomed beneath a parent's care ? What is 
 my life to me if stained with dishonour? But will 
 his blood wash out that stain ? will it restore my once 
 beloved Maria to her former state of virgin inno- 
 cence? But the deed shall be done though I expiate 
 my crime on the scaffold ; I shall expire with the 
 gratifying thought of there being one villain less in 
 the world. Yes, it shall be done, though frenzy fire 
 my brain, and I stand a scathed wretch for heaven's 
 lightnings to play upon ; a houseless wanderer ; the 
 sole tenant of a desert ; he shall die." Turning his 
 head towards the door, he exclaimed " Maria !" 
 
 A female entered, faint, pale, and tottering, but 
 lovely in her make and form. On her countenance 
 sat the traces of a deep, overwhelming sorrow, and 
 her bloodshot eyes betrayed how incessantly her tears 
 had flowed. 
 
 " Maria !" repeated the afflicted parent. 
 
 " Father, what is your pleasure with me?" asked 
 Maria. 
 
 " What is the hour of the night, girl ?" asked 
 Arnfeld. 
 
 " It is past midnight, father," answered Maria.
 
 FITZALLAN. 197 
 
 *' There was a time," said Arnfeld, " when at that 
 hour 1 could lay my head on my pillow, and sleep 
 the night away in dreams of youthful happiness — but 
 that time is gone for ever. Now, if I close my eyes, 
 some damned vision starts before me ; I see the mur- 
 derer of my child grinning- his smile of triumph ; 
 maddened with rage I tear my hoary locks, while on 
 my aching brow sit big drops of mental anguish. 
 There was a time when I could say my prayers at 
 night, and think that they were heard ; but now I 
 cannot pray ; I am forsaken by heaven." 
 
 " Not so., my father," said Maria ; " the God who 
 made his erring child will not shut his heaven against 
 her ; then, as my earthly father, shut not your heart 
 against me. These tears declare how deep is my 
 repentance, how acute my sufferings. Give me a 
 grave, father, for I long for rest." 
 
 " And thou shalt have it, child," said Arnfeld ; 
 " one shall hold us both: as in life I loved thee, in 
 death we will not be separated. But ere that be done 
 another must be sent before us, and we will hasten 
 after him as his accusers. Take these keys, in my 
 private chest you will find my pistols ; bring them 
 to me." 
 
 " And what, my father, would you do with them?" 
 asked Maria. 
 
 " It will but require an infant's strength," said 
 Arnfeld, "and your accursed seducer shall lie welter- 
 ing in his blood at my feet ; and then, Maria — come 
 nearer, my child — will it not be sweet? another 
 motion of my finger will lay your father at his side. 
 The accused and the accuser will then appear at the
 
 198 FITZALLAN. 
 
 same time before their Judge in heaven ; he will 
 hear the good — he will hear the bad ; and, as a 
 father, I shall be forgiven." 
 
 Maria stood before her father, almost inanimate as 
 a statue ; she ventured not to stretch forth her hands 
 to the keys, and she cast a look on her parent, which 
 would have disarmed a fiend. Absorbed in the in- 
 tensity of their feelings, neither spoke ; but in their 
 silence was an expression, at once thrilling, solemn, 
 and depressing. 
 
 *' What didst thou say, child ?" said her father at 
 last ; " wert thou praying ? Seest thou that faint 
 and flickering flame ? there — there — 'tis gone. Such 
 is life ; 'tis but a moment, and all is over. But then 
 what follows ? a darkness I cannot penetrate, and of 
 the end of which I have no knowledge ; but no sun 
 shall shine upon him again. Girl, take the keys ; it 
 is thy father's last command on earth, and henceforth 
 thou art free. Thou knowest his haunts, girl ; come, 
 thou shalt lead me to them." 
 
 " It is past midnight, father; you would not leave 
 your home at such an hour." 
 
 " It is better for that, girl," said Arnfeld ; " the 
 hour and the deed suit each other; and as to a 
 home, I had one once, and was happy in it ; now- 
 some desert should be my abode, tracked by no 
 human footsteps ; the most savage of its beasts 
 should be my associates, for I have no longer fellow- 
 ship with man." 
 
 " Come, father, torture me no longer," said Maria. 
 " Will you not to bed?" 
 
 " Bed ! didst thou say, girl ? what have I to do
 
 FITZALLAN. 199 
 
 with sleep, excepting that from which there is no 
 awakening ? The sleep of death to one hke me must 
 be a sweet one. But tell me what the villain said ; 
 will he marry thee?" 
 
 " My William is good, father ; he will not desert me." 
 
 At this moment a low and cautious knock was 
 heard at the outer door. An involuntary shudder 
 came over Maria, the blood forsook her cheeks, her 
 whole frame tottered ; she looked wildly around her, 
 as if she expected some denizen of hell to burst upon 
 her. 
 
 " Hark !" exclaimed Arnfeld, whilst a smile of 
 malice, such as a devil would put on'when a human 
 virtue is murdered, came over his countenance. 
 *' See who knocks, girl : if it be your William, who 
 is so good to you, by all means ask him in. A glass 
 of wine would cheer me much, and I should enjoy it 
 the more in the presence of so good a friend : ask 
 him in, ask him in. Go to the larder, girl ; deck 
 your table out with your choicest viands to welcome 
 so good a friend. Seest thou not how calm I am on 
 a sudden ; I can now smile and laugh — ha ! ha ! ha! 
 but perhaps he would like the invitation better from 
 myself. He shall have it ;" and rising from his chair, 
 he rushed, with a maniac's fury, towards the door. 
 
 " Father! father!" exclaimed Maria, clasping his 
 knees in frantic grief, *' it is not — it is not William. 
 Oh ! by the love you once bore me, compose your- 
 self: a few more hours and you shall not have your 
 daughter to upbraid; the world is all before me ; and 
 heaven, although 1 may have sinned, will give to me 
 a resting place."
 
 200 FITZALLAN. 
 
 " And I will go with thee, girl ; and I will show 
 to that world the spectacle of what a child can reduce 
 a parent to ; but first, give me the keys ;" and, 
 snatching them from her hand, he rushed up stairs 
 to his bed-chamber. 
 
 " No !" exclaimed Maria, " he once loved me, 
 and he shall not fall a victim to my father's rage."^ 
 She flew to the door ; she opened it, but no one was 
 there. " Thank heaven, he is safe ;" and she re- 
 turned to the sitting-room. 
 
 The suspense which now racked the mind of Maria 
 was too dreadful to be borne ; she expected her father 
 to burst in upor* her every moment with the deadly 
 weapons in his hands, and she knew not but that, in 
 the wildness of his rage, both might be the victims of 
 it. On a sudden a noise struck her ears, as if some- 
 thing heavy had fallen on the ground. A dreadful 
 thought rushed upon her mind ; her father had per- 
 haps committed suicide. Scarcely conscious of her 
 actions, she rushed into the bed-chamber of her 
 father ; there she found him extended on the floor ; 
 in his hands he held the pistols, and the certainty now 
 flashed upon her tliat her father was no more. With 
 a thrilHng scream she threw herself on the body ; she 
 felt his heart, it still beat ; she felt his hands, they 
 were still warm. " He lives ! he lives !" she ex- 
 claimed. A deep groan came from the agonized 
 frame of Arnfeld ; it was the struggle of life over 
 death. A convulsive motion told the return of 
 animation. 
 
 " Father ! father! Oh, speak to me," cried Maria; 
 it is your once beloved child who implores you."
 
 FITZALLAN. 201 
 
 ** It is past," lowly muttered Arnfeld ; ** and the 
 scenes of this world are now closing upon me for ever. 
 He is gone with my curses on his head ; and I^ 
 what am I ? a murderer !" 
 
 " Not so," said Maria ; " it is all the work of youE 
 distempered fancy : you are no murderer." 
 
 " But if it be not yet, it must be so," said 
 Arnfeld. " Go, go to thy rest, child ; I will try and 
 pray." 
 
 The clock from the neighbouring church struck 
 two ; the sound seemed to startle Arnfeld. 
 
 " I have heard that sound,'' he said, " in happier 
 days ; now it comes upon me as a solemn summons 
 to another world, and one that must be obeyed. 
 Then be it so ; I'll be prepared for it : now to rest. 
 Good night, girl." 
 
 " You were wont to kiss me, father, when you bade 
 me good night." 
 
 " It may be the last," said Arnfeld. " There ; good 
 night." 
 
 Suffused in tears, Maria left the room. On reach- 
 ing her bedchamber she threw herself on her knees. 
 Though in the eyes of man she was guilty, she dared 
 to look to heaven ; and yet perhaps a more guiltless 
 soul never offered up its orisons to the throne of 
 mercy. The child of nature appealed to the God of 
 nature, and for its human transgressions will it be 
 pardoned. And yet Maria was good ; a purer spirit 
 never emanated from the hands of its Maker; a 
 nobler, a more affectionate heart never vivified a 
 human boscni ; but she now appeared in the world 
 like a lovely rose-bud torn by some spoiler's hand
 
 202 FITZALLAN. 
 
 from its parent stem ; defoliated, bruised, and 
 broken. The finger of the untainted, untempted 
 prude might point at her with scorn ; she might shun 
 her as a stricken deer, too sorely wounded to mix 
 with the common herd of human beings, and in the 
 fulness of her boasted chastity she might exclaim, ''I 
 thank my God I am not as thou art." But bear up 
 awhile thou fallen one ; that God who gave thee a 
 heart to feel, who implanted in thy nature a passion, 
 and gave thee not at the same time the power to 
 withstand it, will judge thee as he made thee ; and 
 where heaven is thy judge, how empty and insignifi- 
 cant is the judgment of man. 
 
 One of the first steps which Monckton took on the 
 morning following the unexpected interview with his 
 father, was to pay a visit to his beloved Adeline, 
 She was the depositary of all his secrets ; and al- 
 though he entertained no suspicion of it, yet she 
 knew how to turn many of those secrets to her own 
 advantage, at the same time that she succeeded in 
 convincing him that it was his interest only that she 
 had in view. He now related to her the whole 
 tenour of his interview with his father ; but, for par- 
 ticular reasons he studiously avoided imparting to 
 her the warning which his father had given to him 
 on her own account. When, however, Monckton men- 
 tioned the injunction of his parent not to attend the 
 General's fete, a sudden gloom came over the counte- 
 nance of Adeline, which did not escape the observa- 
 tion of Monckton ; who, on inquiring the cause, was 
 informed that it arose solely from the disappointment 
 which she was likely to undergo in being deprived of
 
 FITZALLAN. 203 
 
 his society at the fete. This information could not 
 be but highly gratifying to the feelings of Monckton. 
 *' Where there is such concern manifested at my ab- 
 sence," said he to himself, " there must be affection ;" 
 and perhaps, at that moment, there was no enterprise 
 however hardy, or even criminal, which he would 
 not have undertaken to establish himself still firmer 
 in the good graces of his inamorata ; at all events, it 
 had this immediate effect, that it strengthened him in 
 his determination to act in direct opposition to his 
 father's commands. " And then," said Monckton, 
 *' to be tcld that I am not to molest that formal, 
 pedantic fellow, thatHectorFitzallan; I wonder what 
 he can be to my father, that he should take such an 
 interest about him?" 
 
 This was the very point to which Adeline wished 
 to lead her admirer ; for although she knew well 
 that one of the most efficient methods of increasing 
 the ardour of an affection is to throw out some dark 
 and mysterious insinuations of the existence of a rival, 
 yet for some reasons, which she did not think it pro- 
 per to make manifest, it was not her wish to appear at 
 this moment as if the subject originated with her. 
 
 " Fitzallan appears to me," said Adeline, *' to be 
 far too presumptuous for his condition in life ; his 
 attentions to me I could overlook, as my want of title 
 might lead him to suppose that I was his equal ; 
 but his presumption in forcing his society upon Lady 
 Amelia Fortescue rendered him really ridiculous." 
 
 " And had the inflated fellow,*' asked Monckton, 
 *' the impertinence to behave towards you as if you 
 were on an equality with him ?"
 
 204 FITZALLAN. 
 
 *' I at first," said Adeline, " refused his invitation 
 to dance with him, but he was so importunate, and 
 Julia Manners solicited so strongly in his behalf, 
 that I ultimately consented to dance with him." 
 
 " But I hope you will never do it again," said 
 Monckton. 
 
 " I cannot depart from the accustomed etiquette 
 of society," said Adeline ; " and consistently with that 
 etiquette I cannot refuse the invitation of any gentle- 
 man in a private ball-room to dance with him ; but 
 that does not imply that I am bound to acknowledge 
 him elsewhere." 
 
 " You have long been acquainted," said Monck- 
 ton, "with the ardent love which I bear for you, and 
 I hope you will never give me reason to doubt the 
 sincerity of that affection, which you have so often 
 professed for me, and which I consider as the greatest 
 happiness of my life. No stronger proof of my own 
 love can I give you at present, than to declare that if 
 it be your wish that I should attend the fete of the 
 General, I will do it in despite of all the commands 
 of ray parent." 
 
 "It is a masked fete, is it not?" asked Ade- 
 line. 
 
 " Undoubtedly," said Monckton. 
 
 " Then how is your father to know that you are 
 in the room?" asked the artful girl. 
 
 " But at supper we shall be obliged to unmask/* 
 said Monckton. 
 
 " Then absent yourself from the supper-table," 
 said Adeline. 
 
 " But that," said Monckton, would deprive me of
 
 FITZALLAN. 205 
 
 the greatest enjoyment of the evening, to be your 
 companion at the supper-table." 
 
 " Let not that disturb you," said Adeline ; " but, 
 a propos, as you are personally acquainted with Mr. 
 Fitzallan, suppose we were to form a plot to humble 
 him a little. You can perhaps undertake to obtain 
 from him the exact character in which he intends to 
 appear, and I would then recommend that you 
 should appear precisely in the same ; leave the re- 
 mainder to me, and I think we shall soon be free of 
 his company; then one part of your father's injunc- 
 tion will be a nullity." 
 
 Monckton saw not through the deep laid plan of 
 Adeline, and he engaged that very day to obtain from 
 Pitzallan all the information which she required, and 
 for which she had been for some time perplexing her 
 brain to devise some means of obtaining. 
 
 The conversation for a time took a desultory turn, 
 touching on topics of mere local interest ; but there 
 was one subject nearest the heart of Monckton, which 
 he had often sought for an opportunity to declare, 
 but he was fearful to disclose too much the native tur- 
 pitude of his heart, or to excite any suspicion in the 
 breast of Adeline respecting the honour and upright- 
 ness of his intentions towards her. Monckton at last 
 ventured to speak of his love, and Adeline appeared 
 to listen to him with all that delight which such pro- 
 testations in general excite. 
 
 " I hope," said Monckton, " that the day is not 
 far distant when all restraint will be banished be- 
 tween us, and that I shall enjoy the envied title of 
 the husband of Adeline Gordon."
 
 206 FITZALLAN. 
 
 " You know well/' said Adeline, " that I am not 
 at present the mistress of my own hand ; and further 
 you must consider, that you are the heir to a title, the 
 only surviving branch of one of the most noble families 
 of the country ; nor am I by any means ii^norant of 
 the high aristocratical notions which your father 
 entertains on matters of family and rank ; conse- 
 quently I must know, that he w^ould consider a 
 matrimonial union with me as an indelible disgrace 
 upon his name." 
 
 " Impossible !" said Monckton. *' Why should 
 the foolish prejudices of my father stand in the way of 
 our mutual happiness ; but supposing even that he 
 interposed the full weight of his parental authority, is 
 there no way of outwardly appearing to comply with 
 his prejudices, and secretly consummating our hap- 
 piness ?" 
 
 " I do not perfectly understand you," said Ade- 
 line. 
 
 '* Peculiar interests may prompt us for a time," 
 said Monckton, " to bend to parental authority, but 
 whilst we are waiting for an event which is to eman- 
 cipate us from its shackles, the brilliant days of our 
 youth fade away ; the fire which now sparkles in 
 our eyes becomes faint; the moments which ought 
 to be passed in mutual bliss are foolishly sacrificed to 
 the cold and heartless forms which human beings 
 have invented to stifle the warm and glowing affec- 
 tions of the heart ; and we find, when it is too late, 
 that we have been made the dupes of a blind and 
 passive obedience to the mere caprices and prejudices 
 of others, instead of boldly and resolutely following
 
 PITZALLAN. 207 
 
 the path which our nature and our affections have 
 pointed out to us." 
 
 *' You are most provokingly enigmatical to-day,'* 
 said Adehne ; " but I think I can penetrate the drift 
 of your remarks ; you would have me overleap at 
 once the boundary which prudence and decorum have 
 established for the conduct of every female, and 
 thereby set at naught the opinion of the whole world 
 for the sole enjoyment of your society." 
 
 " And if the enjoyment of that society," said 
 Monckton, " were secretly sanctioned by the regular 
 forms and ordinances of our religion — what then?" 
 
 There was something in the look of Adeline at this 
 moment which completely divested Monckton of all 
 self-possession. He stood before her hke a culprit, 
 conscious of his offence, but knowing not what repa- 
 ration to make for it. There was a chilling severity 
 in the look of Adeline, which told him that he had 
 carried his presumption too far ; or, at least, that he 
 had been too premature in avowing his designs. On 
 the other hand, a struggle of no common kind was 
 working in the breast of Adeline ; her pride was 
 wounded to suppose that he had formed such a de- 
 grading estimate of her character, as to imagine tliat 
 she would fall so readily at the first attack into the 
 plans which he proposed. Still, however, it fell not 
 within her policy at present to come to an open rup- 
 ture with him ; the meanness and obsequiousness of 
 his character were too essential to her in the prose- 
 cution of her plans, and she required his services 
 particularly at this moment to establish her conquest 
 over a heart which she estimated at a far greater price
 
 208 FITZALLAN. 
 
 than his own. In reality, he was but a puppet in 
 her hands, and all her boasted love and affection for 
 him had just as much substance in them as the foam 
 at the top of the billow. 
 
 Monckton stood for some moments abashed, and 
 seemed to dread the next word that might issue from 
 her lips ; but he revived when he saw a smile come 
 over her countenance, and she said, in a most affable 
 tone, " Let us, my dear Monckton, put an end at 
 present to this discourse. I do not wish that you 
 should be lowered in my good opinion ; and I am 
 certain, that were we to prolong this subject, we 
 should part under very different circumstances than 
 we met." 
 
 " Heaven forbid !" said Monckton ; " if I have 
 expressed myself in any way hurtful to your feel- 
 ings ; attribute it to the ardour of my love, and not 
 to any desire to inflict the slightest wound upon your 
 heart." 
 
 " A propos,'* said Adeline, who was anxious to 
 ■divert the conversation into a different channel, " I 
 am heartily glad that you have called on me this 
 morning; we have made a party to attend the theatre 
 this evening. If you will join us I will retain a seat 
 for you, and you will then perhaps be able to impart 
 to me the information which is necessary for the ac- 
 complishment of our plans." 
 
 " I will attend you most joyfully," said Monckton ; 
 " and I will now take my leave in search of Fitz- 
 allan ; I should not be surprised if I had to look 
 for him by the side of some purling stream, or in the 
 Jieart of some gloomy wood. Suppose we advise
 
 PITZALLAN, 209 
 
 him to turn Catholic, and then he can become a Trap- 
 pist ; the monk's cowl would become him well. 
 Adieu ; at night I will be with you." 
 
 " Fool that man is," said Adeline, as Monckton 
 closed the door, " what is he but a pigmy with all his 
 boasted power : a single look can make a child of 
 him ; a smile can make him a slave ; a kiss, if it be 
 only seasoned with hope, can make a hero of him ; 
 and if love be added to hope, he becomes a god. 
 What is there which. I could not accomplish with 
 such a lover as Monckton as my instrument — a crea- 
 ture that I would not take to my arms had he a 
 crown to lay at my feet. No ; the man who rests 
 within them, who pillows his head on my bosom, 
 must be of a different stamp ; nature must have taken 
 some trouble in his formation ; he must not be one 
 of those common every day things which she sends 
 forth by hundreds into the world to fill up a given 
 space, and having toiled and fretted for their allotted 
 time, are huddled into a grave, and are forgotten. I 
 would have the man, who, though standing as the 
 last remnant of his race amidst the crash of worlds, 
 would fearlessly wait the last effort of the exterminating 
 spirit, and sink amongst the crumbling ruins, proudly 
 erect and proudly dying. But where is such a man 
 to be found? the things that flutter around me, and 
 call themselves men, have my scorn; and what if I 
 should find this Fitzallan but an aggregate of the 
 same weaknesses, the same inconsistencies, the same 
 ^legenerate nature ? Then shall it be my pride, my 
 joy, henceforth to make mankind my plaything. 
 I will be an ignis faiuuft, dancing with my light 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 210 PITZALLAN. 
 
 before them, to lure them to the grave of their hap- 
 piness." 
 
 Adeline was disturbed in these reflections by the 
 entrance of a servant, announcing that a stranger 
 was in waiting who was desirous of having a few 
 minutes' conversation with her. 
 
 ''With me!" exclaimed Adeline, *'Who is he? 
 what is he ?'* 
 
 " He is a perfect stranger to me, ma'am," said the 
 servant ; " and on inquiring his name, he begged to 
 be excused from declaring it." 
 
 " Not give his name !" exclaimed Adeline. " Is 
 either my father or mother at home ?" 
 
 *' Neither," replied the servant ; " they walked 
 out about an hour ago." 
 
 " It is most strange," said Adeline, musing for a 
 moment ; " what business can a stranger have with 
 me ? Did you inquire the motive of his call ?" 
 
 " I did," answered the servant ; *' but he gave me 
 a sharp rebuff, for he told me that his business was 
 with Miss Gordon, and not with me." 
 
 " It may be Fitzallan," said Adeline to herself; 
 and without reflecting for a moment on the great 
 improbability of that suspicion being correct, she 
 ordered the servant to introduce the stranger. She 
 was, however, completely disappointed in her expect- 
 ations,' when the door opened, and a person entered, 
 far advanced in years, of a noble and commanding 
 mien, but on whose countenance sat the deep traces 
 of an overwhelming sorrow. It was Major Arnfeld. 
 
 " Have I the pleasure," he said, on entering, " of 
 «,ddressing myself to Miss Gordon ?"
 
 FITZALLAN. 211 
 
 *' I am that person," said Adeline. 
 " You will, I hope," said Arnfeld, " pardon this 
 rudeness on my part, in thus presuming to intrude 
 myself upon your society, but" — he hesitated — " I 
 have a tale to tell. You see before you a broken- 
 hearted parent; a creature bowed to the earth 
 with misery ; no tie has he to bind him to the 
 world ; he had but one, and that one is snapped for 
 ever." 
 
 *' You appear to suffer much, sir," said Adeline; 
 *'but will you favour me with your name, or in- 
 form me in what manner I can contribute to your 
 relief" 
 
 " In regard to my name," said Arnfeld, " it is of 
 little consequence ; it was once pronounced with 
 honour and respect; now I care not how soon 'tis 
 blotted from the memory of man ; and as to relief, I 
 know of only one place where it is to be found, and 
 that is my grave ; it is now digging for me — but I 
 am looking for a companion to join me in it ; you 
 can perhaps direct me to him : pardon me if I speak 
 incoherently. There is a fire consuming my brain, 
 unquenchable, unextinguishable; the world seems to 
 me as if the Almighty had left go his hold of it, 
 roaming at large unchecked, unheeded for, and made 
 the chosen spot for damned fiends to sport in. But 
 I'll be calm ; I can yet fashion my lips to pronounce 
 his name. Is not — is not a man of the name of 
 Monckton in this house?" 
 
 " Monckton !" exclaimed Adeline, overcome with 
 surprise ; " he is not here at present ; he departed 
 about half an hour ago." 
 
 p2
 
 212 FITZALLAN. 
 
 " Again I have missed him," said Arnfeld, mutter- 
 ing to himself; " some hidden power protects him 
 from my vengeance." Addressing himself to Ade- 
 line, he said, " You can perhaps direct me in the 
 route which he has taken." 
 
 " I know it not," said Adeline ; " but have you 
 any important business to settle with Mr. Monckton?" 
 
 " Yes, ma'am ; yes, ma'am," exclaimed Arnfeld, 
 assuming a degree of coolness, whilst his whole 
 frame shook with agitation ; " I have a little account 
 to settle with him ; one moment, one moment, and 
 the business will be all arranged, I am certain, to my 
 entire satisfaction." 
 
 " You appear to be excessively agitated, sir," said 
 Adeline; " do compose yourself, I pray; and if 1 
 can be your intercessor with Mr Moiickton to ar- 
 range any little difference between you, you may 
 command my services." 
 
 " Agitated, Miss Gordon," said Arnfeld, assuming 
 a ghastly smile ; " oh, no ; you are much, very much 
 mistaken. I am quite cool, quite collected ; tlie very 
 thought of your suspicion excites my laughter — ha I 
 ha! ha I" 
 
 Adeline shook with fear ; there was an hysterical 
 wildness in the laugh, such as the maniac would 
 assume when some faint glimmer of former scenes 
 comes across his memory. She was retreating to- 
 wards the door, when Arnfeld said, 
 ' " Why shrink from me ? In the whole round of 
 animated life I know but one object that I would 
 injure. And has he not injured me ? deeply, deeply; 
 blame me not for these tears ; but they are welcome^
 
 FITZALLAN. 213 
 
 They tell mt 1 am still a human being:, although 
 I now stand here as a solitary, blighted tree, ab- 
 solved from every tie which binds man to man, or 
 which can make me wish for life. I had once a 
 daughter—" 
 
 " Once !" exclaimed Adeline ; " and is she then 
 no more?" 
 
 *' Would that I could say so," said Arnfeld ; " she 
 was once as pure as snow new fallen, and as such I 
 wished her to descend into her grave ; but the villain 
 came, serpent-like, he instilled his poison into her ear ; 
 around her affectionate, unsuspecting heart he wound 
 his treacherous coils ; in the dark midnight hour he 
 spoke his baseless promises ; on her yet unpolluted 
 lips he stamped his kiss of lust; he saw the unequal 
 .struggle ; another and another ; still the pearl was 
 in the shell. She called upon heaven, upon her 
 guardian spirit ; in the last writhings of her conquered 
 "virtue she called upon me, her father, but her voice 
 was stifled ; the kiss of the villain hushed it, and 
 made it inaudible ; it was but the faint last whisper of 
 her expiring innocence : the decisive moment came, 
 the lamb bled by the side of its murderer. Hell saw 
 the deed and laughed ; I hear it now, as the voices 
 of all its fiends burst forth in horrid dissonance, re-> 
 joicing that another virtue was dead upon the earth; 
 and I, I, still live to tell it. But the hour of retribu- 
 tion is not far off; come when it may, I am prepared 
 for it." 
 
 Adeline stood aghast ; her soul was harrowed with 
 feelings yet unknown to her, but still she felt for her- 
 self. She saw the abvss, on the brink of which she
 
 214 FITZALLAN. 
 
 herself was standing; the whole meaning of Monck' 
 ton's enigmatical language was now expounded to 
 her ; all the fiery passions of her nature were roused, 
 and stood revealed on her countenance. Arnfeld 
 construed this intensity of feeling into a just and 
 boundless indignation at the act of the criminal. He 
 took the hand of Adeline, it trembled within his con- 
 vulsive grasp ; and, in a slow and solemn tone, he 
 said, " The scenes of this world are now closing fast 
 upon me ; I have run my course, and the sun of my 
 life sets in the gloom of a tempest ; but, like that 
 sun which now shines upon us, it will rise again in 
 renovated glory ; for the bliss of heaven will not be 
 denied to a broken-hearted father, even though he 
 appear at the throne of it before his appointed time, 
 with the murdered murderer of his child. Now, 
 farewell ! Go, for you are yet young, and mingle with 
 the world ; we may never meet again ; but when, in 
 one of those never-to-be-forgotten hours of your life, 
 around your neck are thrown the arms of him yoa 
 love ; when in the glowing kisses which he imprints 
 on your lips, you feel the ardour of his passion ; 
 when in himself you see all that the world holds dear 
 to you, and in the wild palpitations of your own 
 heart you feel the weakness of your nature, then, then 
 think of your father ; think of me, think of my child, 
 — farewell.'* 
 
 Arnfeld vanished from her sight, and Adeline 
 stood with her eyes fixed on the door by which he 
 had departed. Her ideas appeared to be all in con- 
 fusion; she thought she still saw the venerable figure 
 of Arnfeld standing before her ; his last and solemn
 
 FITZALLAN. 215 
 
 farewell still vibrated in her ears, and sounded as a 
 serious warning spoken by an invisible spirit. Had she 
 ever in reality loved Monckton, what must have been 
 now her feelings ? but how to deport herself towards 
 him in future? that appeared to her the most difficult 
 part of her task. It was the intrinsic baseness of his 
 character, and his extreme servility which made him 
 so useful to her ; and to dispense with him at present 
 was impossible. She knew him to be her most 
 abject slave, but at the same time she had now as- 
 certained that his boasted love for her had perhaps 
 no other aim than that which had guided him in his 
 pretended attachment to his now hapless victim. 
 Hatred theretbre of the most deadly nature towards 
 him sprang up in her heart, but a sudden thought 
 flashed upon her. " He was my slave before, now 
 he is doubly so. I have him so now in my power 
 that he shall tremble at my very look, but for a time 
 I will dissemble ; he shall not perceive any imme- 
 diate change in my conduct, but if he ever hesitate 
 to execute any of my plans, then will I use such am- 
 biguous words as to lead him to suspect that I am 
 privy to his infamy; and when I have no further use 
 for him — why then let the father of his victim wreak 
 the fulness of his vengeance upon him." 
 
 A carriage at this moment drove up to the hall 
 door. Adeline was by no means in a proper mood 
 to receive company, especially of that sort who, for 
 about three hours p. m. are rolled in their carriages 
 from street to street, proud of hearing their party- 
 coloured, jolter-headed coxcomb practising himself 
 on his susquepedahan knocks at the doors of their
 
 216 FITZALLAN. 
 
 acquaintance, and who have in reality no other motive 
 for their visit than to drive away the fiend Ennui, or 
 to display some new fashionable gewgaw, or per- 
 chance, if the tenant of the carriage be a zealous 
 member of the Bible or Missionary Societies, to con- 
 fer on the great success which has attended the ex- 
 ertions of those societies ; on the consequent decrease 
 of crime, and perhaps to relate the glad tidings 
 that no doubt now whatever existed of the ultimate 
 conversion of the empire of China to the Christian 
 faith, as, by the latest accounts from that quarter, 
 three converts had been made, although two of them 
 had since shown some symptoms of backsliding.* 
 The visitor was, however, no other person than Mrs. 
 Hamilton, who had paid her a morning call for the 
 
 * It is far from the intention of the author of this work to 
 cast any sneer upon the labours of the Missionary Societies so 
 long as they confine themselves to those quarters from which 
 emanates the slightest hope of success ; but to expect that the 
 Chinese nation, or any part thereof, will ever be converted to 
 the Christian religion is an idea which can only be entertained 
 in the mind of an idiot. A general religion is inconsistent with 
 the physical nature of the globe ; it cannot be made to exist, 
 even supposing that the natives were disposed to accept of it. 
 If the Mahometans were to send out their missionaries to Lap- 
 land, and to preach the keeping of the rigorous fast of the 
 Ramadan, which enjoins that no food shall be tasted between 
 the rising and setting of the sun — could a Laplander ever 
 become a Mahometan ? His Ramadan would last six months, 
 and Islamism could not therefore form the religion of the 
 country. We could point to countries, where, from similar 
 causes, Christianity never can become the religion of the peo- 
 ple ; a solitary convert may be made, and the missionary 
 may write home, that his sphere of 2ise/u/ness is extending. 
 But one swallow does not make a summer, and one convert doea 
 not prove the conversiou of a whole people.
 
 FITZ ALLAN. 217 
 
 purpose of imparting to Adeline some private intelli- 
 gence in which she was personally interested ; but 
 as the conference was carried on with closed doors, 
 and in a low and cautious whisper, it must be left to 
 futurity to disclose the import of it.
 
 218 
 
 FITZALLAN. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 I'm sure he could not love her more 
 
 In the shrine of her young heart; 
 At her fond kiss, no sweeter gush 
 
 Of ecstasy would start. 
 But the beautiful are ever loved, 
 
 And cherished on the earth ; 
 Affection twines her fairest wreaths 
 
 To crown them at their birth. 
 
 It may have been owing to design, it may have bees 
 owing to chance, or it may have been owing to any 
 other power which the hberality or ingenuity of the 
 reader may fix upon, that the following circumstance 
 took place. By ourselves the question itself is in- 
 soluble, although we are by no means ignorant that 
 premeditation has generally more to do in the affairs 
 of lovers than they are sometimes willing to admit, 
 and that they are prone to attribute many circum- 
 stances to chance, which they have been actually 
 employing the whole force of their ingenuity to bring 
 to pass, but at which they would feci a kmd of 
 mauvaise honte at being even suspected of con- 
 niving. We, however, consider it to be an act highly 
 meritorious in us, when we find ourselves at a loss 
 to account for any particular circumstance to hold our 
 tongues about it altogether, and thereby exonerate
 
 FITZALLAN. 219 
 
 ourselves from the charge of folly or stupidity in at» 
 tempting to decide upon a point, of which we cannot 
 be otherwise than ignorant of its ruling cause. Con- 
 sistently with that principle, we will not pretend to 
 account for that strange combination of circumstances, 
 which brought Hector Fitzallan and Amelia For- 
 tescue into the immediate presence of each other 
 when it was the least expected by either of them ; 
 we will attribute it all to chance ; but blessed for 
 ever be that chance, which, in the wormwood cup of 
 life, will at times mix so sweet an ingredient. 
 
 The weather was uncommonly fine, and Fitzallan 
 had left the noise and bustle of the town for the more 
 sober and rational scenes of the country. His gene- 
 ral pursuits had lost their interest ; his nature ap- 
 peared to be metamorphosed, bat into what, or by 
 what, he could not tell. The world exhibited itself 
 to him in a wholly different light than formerly ; for 
 feelings had been excited in his heart which made 
 him regard certain objects with accumulated interest, 
 and others with entire neglect ; and this all in direct 
 opposition to his previous prejudices. The sphere 
 of his action appeared to him enlarged, but in all his 
 plans, in all the schemes which he framed for his 
 future establishment in life, his heart pointed to only 
 one object, and yet it was too manifest to him that that 
 object never could be his ; that she was in fact too far 
 above him, and that it was " in her bright radiance 
 and collateral light" that he must be comforted, not 
 in her sphere. Ere perhaps a few months had passed 
 over his head he would scarcely dare to mention her 
 na-no ; and were he to do it, it must be in the silent
 
 220 FITZALLAN. 
 
 hours of his sorrows, -when it would escape from him. 
 in a whisper not to be heard by mortal ear, and too 
 faint for any echo to catch to tell it to the world. 
 When therefore he viewed his future prospects 
 through this medium every thing appeared dark and 
 gloomy to him, nor did the mysterious circumstances 
 which appeared to accompany all the actions of his 
 mother, and the uncertainty respecting the fate of his 
 father, tend by any means to restore his mind to its 
 wonted tranquillity. In regard to the conduct of his 
 mother, it had lately become still more unaccountable 
 ^than at his first entrance into life ; and so peremptory 
 ■were her injunctions on him not to attempt to pene- 
 trate the veil in which she was enveloped, that the 
 -situation in which they now stood to each other was 
 little short of a positive estrangement from each 
 other's society. This circumstance, added to the 
 unfortunate attachment which he had imbibed for 
 Lady Amelia Fortescue, alienated his mind from his 
 -customary pursuits, and drove him into solitude to 
 brood in secret over his wayward destiny. With 
 ■every morning some fresh resolution was formed, and 
 every evening saw it broken. He was determined to 
 emancipate himself from the thraldom which weighed 
 so heavily upon him, but it was a task of no trifling 
 difficulty to discover the means by uhich that end 
 could be accomplished. He knew of no physician 
 who in such matters could administer a remedy to 
 him, and he was by no means disposed to follow the 
 advice of the stagyrite, who, in cases of such a despe- 
 rate nature, strongly recommends the immediate use 
 of a halter. One resolution, however, he was de-
 
 TTTZALLAN. 221 
 
 termined to abide by, and that was to shun, as much 
 as possible, the society of Lady Ameha ; and neither 
 by word nor deed to give her to understand how deep 
 was the impression which her beauty had made upon 
 him. It is well for the coroner, it is well for them- 
 selves, that the resolutions of lovers are very like the 
 top of a syllabub — all froth and no substance ; and 
 the manner in which Hector Fitzallan adhered to the 
 notable resolution which he had taken will only add 
 another to the many hundreds of proofs that are 
 already in existence, that a lover in his actions is a 
 jumble of eccentricity and inconsistency, half a fool 
 and half a madman. 
 
 Hector had not long bent his course to one of his 
 sequestered haunts, when the door of General Hamil- 
 ton's house was seen to open, and from it tripped 
 two light and airy figures, who, guided perhaps by- 
 some benignant genius, appeared to bend their steps 
 in the same direction which Fitzallan had taken. 
 That this could be the mere effect of chance, or that 
 they had not by some means, not easily to be ac- 
 counted for, obtained a knowledge of the route which 
 he had taken, will not be credited by many ; and no 
 doubt can be entertained that the important question 
 will be raised by some rigid, prudish stickler for the 
 propriety of female conduct, how far it was commend- 
 able in the said females, in just adopting the very- 
 road which could not fail to bring them into collision 
 with a young man, on whose account one of them in 
 particular had received the most positive prohibition 
 not to commit herself by any act of intimacy or fami- 
 liarity, and to conduct herself towards him in every
 
 222 FITZALLAN. 
 
 respect with the most studied formahty. Prudence, 
 no doubt dictated these precautionary measures ; but 
 love and prudence have seldom as little connexion 
 with each other, as humility with a bishop, or libe- 
 rality of mind with a Stylite. 
 
 Hector was sittinc: on the trunk of a tree, tracing 
 with a stick some hieroglyphical figures in the sand, 
 which perhaps when put tog'ether might have formed 
 the word Amelia ; and he was just then thinking 
 how like those figures was woman's love, which with 
 the first gust of wind which swept over them might 
 be effaced for ever, when the sound of voices behind 
 him suddenly aroused him from his reverie. He 
 looked around, and to his inexpressible surprise, 
 Lady Amelia, with her friend Julia, presented them- 
 selves to his view. We know not how others may 
 appreciate the feelings which now swayed the breast 
 of Fitzallan, but that they partook more of heaven 
 than of earth can be told by all, who have been ever 
 so blessed as to feel their influence. Fitzallan rose, 
 and the most marked embarrassment was conspicuous 
 in all his motions, nor was the confusion which Lady 
 Amelia displayed less striking. Perhaps some busy 
 officious monitor within was whispering to her that 
 she was overstepping the bounds of propriety, and 
 that she was actually exposing her weakness in a 
 quarter, where the least of all she would wish it to be 
 known. It is generally affirmed, that in certain cases 
 a third person is the greatest of all imaginable nui- 
 sances, but in the present instance it would be diffi- 
 cult to say in what manner either Fitzallan or Lady 
 Amelia would have recovered from their confusion, if
 
 'it is really a most detglitflil spot", sadd Jiilia, 
 seatino Iters elf on ttie trtmk of the ti-ee, for 
 a conteniplative phjlosoplier-, he caa Itere stu- 
 dy tJie stars and tiie moon-, aad look, address - 
 mp lierself to Lady Amelia, "lie caa learaliow to 
 write AMELIA on the sand"
 
 FITZALLAN. 223 
 
 it had not been for the intervention of a third person, 
 who, after having very sagaciously declared it to be 
 a most unaccountable event, that they should thus hy 
 chance fall into each other's company, began to rally 
 Fitzallan on his secluded habits, and recommended 
 him to build a hermitage, where he could associate 
 with tom-tits and jackdaws, and enjoy the charms 
 of solitude without the fear of disturbance. " It is 
 really a most delightful spot," said Julia, seating 
 herself on the trunk of the tree, " for a contemplative 
 philosopher; he can here study the stars and the 
 moon ; and look," addressing herself to Lady Amelia, 
 *' he can learn how to write a m e l i a on the sand.'* 
 
 There was something provokingly vexatious to 
 Fitzallan in Julia making this untimely discovery. 
 He bit his hp with chagrin, and effaced the letters 
 with his foot. He felt ashamed of the disclosure, but 
 why he should feel so, he could not tell ; but it is 
 singular that the noblest passion of the human heart, 
 which builds its resolves on the verge of impossibility, 
 and which to gain its end would count the sands of 
 the ocean, is nevertheless generally attended with the 
 greatest weakness. In what manner the discovery 
 affected the feelings of Lady Amelia cannot be posi- 
 tively stated ; it may indeed be guessed at, and we 
 will venture to predict, that ninety-nine out of a hun- 
 dred will not be mistaken in their estimate. It is 
 however surprising, how more powerfully a trifle 
 sometimes speaks to the female heart, than all the 
 forms which the most studied language can invent ; 
 and it must be remembered, that nothing is more 
 quick in seizing hold of those trifles than a youthful
 
 224 FITZALLAN. 
 
 heart, which is glowing for the first time with the 
 inspirations of a life-warm passion. 
 
 '* Come, Mr. Fitzallan," continued Julia, " seat 
 yourself by my side, and you shall tell me how far 
 you had succeeded in discovering the longitude when 
 we so suddenly interrupted you." 
 
 Fitzallan did seat himself according to the invita- 
 tion of Julia, but Lady Ameha was still standing. 
 Politeness whispered Fitzallan to offer her a seat, but 
 Julia, either by chance or design had seated herself 
 so close to the end of the tree, that not the least space 
 was left at her side for a seat for Lady Amelia, and 
 therefore, if Lady Amelia did seat herself at all, 
 it could be in no other position than at the immediate 
 side of Fitzallan. His diffidence, however, did not 
 allow him to offer her that seat ; but, to his inexpres- 
 sible delight, she waited not to be asked, but, with 
 the utmost 7ia'ivete, seated herself by his side ; and 
 it was a moment which Fitzallan loved to dwell 
 upon when, in the darkness of his age, he recalled 
 to his memory those periods of his life in which he 
 had been most happy. It was a situation as novel 
 as it was unexpected by him ; but still it would have 
 puzzled the profoundest metaphysician of the age to 
 have given a distinct analysis of the feelings which 
 now appeared to overpower him by their intensity. 
 He felt as if there were nothing more in the world 
 that he could wish for, and yet the next moment his 
 inflamed imagination carried him away to scenes, at 
 first dazzling bright with human happiness, but im- 
 mediately afterwards enveloped in the dark shrouds 
 of misery and desolation. The thought that Amelia
 
 FITZALLAN. 225 
 
 did love him, raised him to the pinnacle of bliss ; the 
 IhoufT-ht that in a few weeks more perhaps she dare 
 not love him, reduced him to despair. The lovely 
 being that was now sitting by his side, the beatings of 
 whose heart were almost audible to him, (whose hand, 
 •which by some unaccountable means, had crept into 
 his, and which he was then pressing with all the ardour 
 of a first love,) was destined for the arms of another; at 
 the very thought of it, a thrillingcoldness ran througli 
 all his veins, and he felt as if he were in the presence 
 of some holy unpolluted spirit, with whom even to 
 mingle his breath were profanation. But one of the 
 most powerful auxiliaries of love is hope, and hope 
 will sometimes throw its flattering light over the 
 gloom of a lover's soul, and so irradiate his future 
 prospects, that every thing which a moment before 
 was dark and gloomy, assumes on a sudden the most 
 brilliant and inspiring hues ; the clouds of despair 
 are dispelled, and a heaven of bliss and transport 
 opens to his view. 
 
 It would be a task of no trifling difficulty to deter- 
 mine the exact subject of conversation which engaged 
 the attention of the happy trio ; for it may with truth 
 be affirmed, that if it had not been for Julia, it almost 
 ainounts to a certainty, that in regard to the other 
 two there would have been scarcely any conversation 
 at all. When the heart is full the tongue is seldom 
 eloquent; and in the present instance speech was of 
 little avail, for in every glance which shot from the 
 eyes of two of them, there spoke a language far more 
 strong and expressive than ever could be uttered by hu- 
 man tongue. Not but that there was one topic which 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226- FITZALLAN. 
 
 Hector would have gladly touched upon, and from 
 which perhaps he was only restrained by the presence 
 of a third person, or by that kind of bashfulness 
 which is ever the attendant of a genuine affection. 
 For ourselves we believe and know, that there is 
 nothing more laconic than the style of love ; with two 
 personal pronouns and a verb two lovers can entertain 
 each other during the whole of the day, but whether 
 it would be equally entertaining to a third person is a 
 question very easily solved. There was however one 
 point which Julia wished particularly to discuss, and 
 that was the most extraordinary coincidence of this 
 meeting, as far as regarded it having been the conse- 
 quence of premeditation or design ; for that was a 
 point which she wished particularly to impress on the 
 mind of Hector, as it was not proper that he should 
 entertain for a moment the very erroneous idea, that 
 Lady Amelia or herself had by any means ascertained 
 the exact route which he had taken ; and therefore he 
 could not but admit that their meeting was merely the 
 consequence of that strange combination of circum- 
 stances, which does sometimes happen in this world 
 to the great astonishment and wonder of those, who 
 are principally interested in them, and who at the 
 same time, if they would be candid, would be able ta 
 tell that the whole business, instead of being acci- 
 dental, has been brought about by their own manage- 
 ment and connivance. Nevertheless, it is sometimes 
 as difficult to trace the workings of the female. heart 
 as it is to unravel the clue of Ariadne ; and in both 
 cases, when the task is accomplished, we arrive at 
 ' — nothing. Had Julia been guided by true policy.
 
 FITZALLAN. 227 
 
 or by even a portion of that cunning, which generally 
 characterises the female mind in matters of this kind, 
 she would perhaps have forborne to say any thing 
 about this meeting, and have left Fitzallan to draw 
 whatever conclusions his penetration or his vanity 
 might have suggested; but to look for sound judg- 
 ment or discretion in a giddy, flighty girl of nineteen 
 were tantamount to expect the solution of the knotty 
 question, of how many angels can dance on the point 
 of a needle, from a cannibal of New Zealand. That 
 she failed in the effect she intended to produce is 
 most certain ; for although Fitzallan had not as yet 
 mingled much in the world, nor had been thrown into 
 those situations where a strong diversity of character 
 presents itself, yet he was not wholly ignorant of 
 the little devices and stratagems by which certain 
 ladies are in the habit of deceiving those in whom 
 they feel a peculiar interest ; and judging of Julia by 
 that standard, he saw in her attempts to convince 
 him that their meeting was accidental, some very 
 strong grounds to believe the direct reverse ; he for- 
 bore, however, to express his opinion, but neverthe- 
 less it tended, in no small degree, to flatter his self- 
 love, and to convince him that he was not wholly in- 
 different in the eyes of the lovely being whose society 
 he was then enjoying. 
 
 Whether however their meeting was accidental or 
 premeditated, there was one very delicate point yet 
 to manage, and that was the mode of their separation. 
 For Hector to accompany them back to their resi- 
 dence would be the very height of indiscretion ; the 
 circumstance of their having been seen in each other's
 
 228 , FITZ ALLAN. 
 
 company would, in a moment, be buzzed in every 
 direction where they were known ; it miglit extend 
 to a quarter where most of all it should be concealed, 
 and the result might be an estrangement from each 
 other for ever for the future ; but then, on the other 
 hand, to request him not to accompany them might 
 be construed into an act on their part of rudeness 
 and unkindness ; independently of which it might be 
 a tacit avowal that they were conscious to themselves 
 that they had not been acting according to the most 
 rigid rules of decorum, or else why be ashamed or 
 afraid of being seen in his society? It was, however, 
 a matter in which scarcely any choice was left, and 
 Julia was on the point of informing Fitzallan of the 
 necessity of their now separating, when on a sudden 
 the noise of steps immediately behind them attracted 
 their notice, and, looking round, they discovered the 
 unwelcome intruder to be no other person than Mr. 
 Monckton. Had a thunderbolt fallen at the feet of 
 the party, they could not have risen with greater 
 promptitude; and on the countenance of all of them 
 sat the utmost confusion and embarrassment, while 
 on that of Monckton shone the smile of malicious 
 triumph in having thus so unexpectedly detected the 
 parties in their clandestine meeting. 
 
 "I hope," said Monckton, addressing himself to the 
 ladies, " that you will accept of my apology for thus 
 so suddenly breaking in upon your company ; but in 
 reality you must believe me when I say, that I did 
 not know on whom I was intruding, or 1 would cer- 
 tainly have directed my steps another way." 
 
 This might or it might not have been true on the
 
 FIT Z ALLAN. 229 
 
 part of Monckton, but it did not tend by any means 
 to relieve tiie parties from their embarrassment ; and, 
 addressing himself to Fitzallan, he said, " By hea- 
 vens, Fitzallan, you are one of the most enviable of 
 human beings, to be thus selected as the companion 
 of two such youthful beauties." 
 
 " Selected, Sir," said Fitzallan, " I cannot flatter 
 myself that there is any selection for me to be proud 
 of. I have been, it is true, honoured by the society 
 of Lady Amelia Fortescue and her friend, but it was 
 an event which I could not have expected, nor am I 
 vain enough to deem myself for a moment worthy o-f 
 their particular attention." 
 
 " I presume not," said Monckton, " to question 
 the motive of either Lady Amelia or Miss Manners, 
 and in fact their well-known virtues and characters 
 place them beyond the suspicion of the slightest de- 
 viation from propriety or decorum. I, however, 
 regret much my unseasonable intrusion, and I 
 can only repeat, that I hope my apology will be 
 accepted." 
 
 ** Most certainly, Mr. Monckton," said Julia ; *' at 
 the same time I do not see that any apology on your 
 part is required ; you have not given any intentional 
 offence, and where no offence is given on the one 
 side no pardon can be required from the other." 
 
 " It is the very sentiment I should have expected 
 to hear from the lips of Miss Manners," said Monck- 
 ton, " and it gives me no little satisfaction to know 
 that I have not incurred her displeasure ; as 
 to my friend Fitzallan, I know the liberality of 
 his disposition too well, to suppose for a moment. 
 
 /
 
 230 FITZALLAN. 
 
 that this trivial affair will in any degree lessen 
 the esteem which he has hitherto entertained for 
 me. 
 
 " Where I have once given my esteem," said Fitz- 
 allan, " it is not a trifle which can diminish or 
 destroy it ; and in the present case, I do not see any 
 grounds for a quarrel, or even of the slightest differ- 
 ence between us ; therefore, I think it the better 
 plan to desist from the present subject altogether." 
 
 " I perfectly agree with Mr. Fitzallan," said Juha; 
 and with that naivet^ so natural to her, she said, " I 
 suppose, Mr. Monckton, you intend to be present at 
 the General's masquerade ?" 
 
 *' It would give me great pleasure," said Monck- 
 ton, " to be a Pyramus to Miss Manners's Thisbe." 
 
 " I cannot pretend to say," said Julia, " what sort 
 of a Pyramus you would make, but I am afraid I 
 should make but a sorry Thisbe : but do favour us 
 with your opinion as to the character most fitted for 
 Mr. Fitzallan. I think the one he has chosen not at 
 all suitable to him." 
 
 Monckton was now on the point of obtaining the 
 very information for which Adeline Gordon had de- 
 spatched him in search of Fitzallan, and he secretly 
 congratulated himself with the success which awaited 
 him, without his being obliged to show any particular 
 anxiety in obtaining it. Nor did his dark and 
 treacherous soul delight itself only with the obtaining 
 of the wished-for information, but in the detection of 
 Fitzallan with Lady Amelia he had become privy to 
 a circumstance, which he was resolved to make known 
 in a certain quarter, and thereby with one blow level
 
 FITZALLAN. 231 
 
 to the ground the entire fabric of his future hap- 
 piness. 
 
 " If I might presume to recommend," said Monck- 
 ton, " a character to Fitzallan, it should be that of 
 Don Juan." 
 
 " Don Juan !" exclaimed Lady Amelia, *' why he 
 has chosen the very reverse of it, he has selected the 
 character of a Carmelite monk." 
 
 *' On purpose," said Monckton, *' that many a 
 pretty nun may confess to him all her wanderings 
 and peccadilloes." 
 
 " And having heard them," said Fitzallan, *' I 
 trust I shall not show such a base and ungenerous 
 disposition, as to promulgate them on the following 
 day to every gossip's ear who would listen to them." 
 
 This was a home thrust on the part of Fitzallan; 
 he knew it to be one of the dark shades in the cha- 
 racter of Monckton to be the assiduous disseminator 
 of every tale of scandal that floated on the feculent 
 stream of public report ; but if Monckton were pre- 
 viously secretly hostile to him, this pointed allusion 
 did not tend by any means to mitigate his resentment* 
 He cast a look full of passion on Fitzallan, and it 
 would, perhaps, have burst out into the most violent 
 expressions, had it not been for the presence of the 
 ladies, in whose good graces he did not wish to de- 
 grade himself; determined, however, in some re- 
 spects to wound the feelings of Fitzallan, he said, " I 
 think I shall advise Miss Gordon to assume the 
 character of a Lady Abbess; she will be a most 
 appropriate companion for the Monk, and one I am 
 certain which will not be disagreeable to him."
 
 232 FITZALLAN. 
 
 ** I do not consider," said Fitzallan, " that the 
 society of Miss Gordon can be disagreeable to any 
 one ; and perhaps in my character as her confessor, I 
 should hear of the many vows of constancy and at- 
 tachment which certain of her admirers have sworn 
 to maintain, at the same time, that a moment before, 
 they have been swearing the same vows to another ; — 
 but I hope I shall have the pleasure of seeing an- 
 other lady there of the name of Arnfeld — what her 
 confession to me will be, I leave to the more experi- 
 enced judgment of others to decide." 
 
 " Sir," exclaimed Monckton, maddening with rage, 
 *' did I consider you as my equal, I would this mo- 
 ment chastise you on the spot for your presumptuous 
 allusion — but I shall know how to make you feel the 
 consequences of your insolence." 
 
 *' You will find me your equal, if not your 
 superior, in every thing," said Fitzallan ; " and as 
 to your threats, I treat them with indifference and 
 contempt." 
 
 " Lady Amelia, and Miss Manners," said Monck- 
 ton, " my knowledge of the character and manners of 
 a gentleman tells me not to carry on this altercation 
 any further in your presence. I therefore take mj 
 leave ;" and darting the look of a fiend on Fitzallan, 
 he hurried away. 
 
 " Let the galled jade wince," said Fitzallan, — 
 ** but you appear alarmed, Lady Amelia. I regret 
 much that this scene should have taken place in your 
 presence and in that of Miss Manners, but I hope 
 you will admit that it was not brought on by myself; 
 had I submitted to listen to his venomous insinuations
 
 FITZALLAN. 233 
 
 without a reply, there is no saying to what lengths he 
 would have gone." 
 
 " I know not how to account for it," said Julia, 
 " but I always feel a kind of horror when I am in 
 the company of Mr. Monckton." 
 
 " It is to the consequences that I look," said Lady 
 Amelia, "and I regard it as the forerunner of a storna 
 that will soon burst upon us." 
 
 " There are those," said Fitzallan, *' who, under 
 any circumstances, are able and willing to protect 
 you ; the real coward is always a blusterer." 
 
 " But the tongue of a coward is a dangerous 
 weapon," said Julia, " and therefore it is my opinion, 
 that the sooner we present ourselves at our home 
 the better ; under the present circumstances, Mr. 
 Fitzallan, we will dispense with you accompanying 
 us — therefore, Adieu ! — to our next meeting at the 
 masquerade." 
 
 " 1 perceive the propriety of that step," said Fitz- 
 allan ; " your peace and safety ought to be my first 
 consideration — you will perhaps not forget the Car- 
 melite monk." 
 
 " Nor you the Franciscan nun," said Lady Amelia, 
 tendering her hand to Fitzallan. 
 
 " She shall be the first object of my search," said 
 Fitzallan, pressing the hand of the lovely girl. 
 
 " I will be a'guardian angel," said Julia, and if 
 danger threaten you, I will be at your side — Adieu , 
 au revoir." 
 
 The two lovely girls bounded away, leaving Fitz- 
 allan in a state of rapture, for that he was loved by 
 Lady Amelia her every word and action plainly told
 
 234 FITZALLAN. 
 
 him. He stood and followed them with his eyes ; 
 they were now on the point of turning an angle in 
 the road, which would hide them from his view. 
 Lady Amelia on a sudden stopped, looked back to- 
 wards the spot where Fitzallan was standing ; she 
 kissed her hand; Fitzallan returned the salutation, 
 and pondering on the blissful scenes that awaited 
 him, he took a different road, which led to the town.
 
 FITZALLAN. 235 
 
 CHAPTER Xr. 
 
 Love's cherished gift, the rose he gave, is faded, 
 
 Love's brighter flower can never bloom again ; 
 Weep for thy fault, in heart and mind degraded, 
 
 Weep, if thy tears can wash the stain away. 
 Call back the vows that once to heaven were plighted. 
 
 Vows full of innocence, of love, and truth, 
 Call back the scenes in which thy soul delighted, 
 
 Call back the dream that bless'd thy early youth. 
 
 His heart surcharged with malice and rancour, 
 Monckton joined Adehne Gordon at the theatre. She 
 was surrounded by some of those buzzing coxcombs 
 who flutter round a celebrated beauty, whispering 
 sweet nonsense in her ear, and who think to gain a 
 woman's heart by a display of the emptiness of their 
 heads, and the namby-pamby effeminacy of their 
 manners. The reception which Adeline gave to 
 Monckton was more distant and restrained than usual ; 
 but, ignorant of the real cause, he attributed it to the 
 mere humour of the moment, or to that desire which 
 women in general always evince to conceal their real 
 feelings on those points, where the heart is supposed 
 to have the greatest interest. Monckton was not only 
 disliked but dreaded by his companions ; and they 
 no sooner saw him enter the box, than they one by 
 one retired and left him to the undisturbed enjoyment
 
 236 riTZALLAN. 
 
 of the society of Miss Gordon and an elderly relative, 
 who had accompanied her. He immediately pro- 
 ceeded to inform her of his success in having obtained 
 the knowledge of the character in which Fitzallan 
 was to appear at the masquerade ; and consequently, 
 that be would pay her a visit on the morrow to arrange 
 in what manner their plans against him were to be 
 carried into execution. Having discharged himself 
 of that part of his commission, he entered into a 
 recital of the unexpected manner in which he had dis- 
 covered Fitzallan and the ladies ; and it is not to be 
 supposed from the baseness of his character, that in 
 his narrative he considered himself under any restric- 
 tions to adhere to the truth ; on the contrary, he so 
 falsified the whole affair, and gave such a colouring of 
 guilt to it that could only have been invented by a 
 fiend who was bent on the destruction of human hap- 
 piness. He entered into a minute description of the 
 particular attitude in which he found them, and it was 
 so very different from the reality, that the purity of the 
 character of the females became a very questionable 
 subject. According to his description, he found Lady 
 Amelia sitting on the knee of Fitzallan, and that 
 having observed them for some time at a distance, he 
 repeatedly saw Fitzallan kissing the lips of Lady 
 Amelia, whilst her arms were thrown around his neck; 
 and that when he came suddenly upon them, their 
 confusion was so great that Lady Amelia fainted in 
 Fitzallan^s arms. 
 
 Monckton thought by this inflammatory recital to 
 impart particular delight to Adeline, and thereby to 
 ingratiate himself still deeper in her esteem; but, so
 
 FITZALLAN. 237 
 
 erroneous sometimes are the calculations in which 
 certain individuals are apt to indulge themselves, 
 respecting the issue of their nefarious practices, that 
 Monckton found himself most egregiously mistaken. 
 Every word that he uttered was a dagger to the 
 heart of Adeline. It was to her a draught of the 
 bitterest wormwood ; for in regard to the virtue or 
 the innocence of either Lady Amelia or Julia Man- 
 ners, she cared not if they were really deserving of 
 the character which Monckton had given to them ; 
 but to be informed that Fitzallan really loved Lady 
 Amelia, and that he was by her loved in return — to 
 see all the hopes that she had formed of effecting a 
 conquest over his heart destroyed for ever — the mes- 
 senger who could impart such intelligence to her, 
 was in her eyes, at the moment, a most odious cha- 
 racter. She could have expelled him from her pre- 
 sence, as one, who was breathing around her some 
 pestilential airs, which were to blight her future hap- 
 piness, and not being properly able to control her 
 feelings, she expressed her determination to leave the 
 theatre before the entertainment was over, and she 
 immediately put her resolve into execution. The 
 carriage, however, having been ordered at a later 
 hour had not yet arrived, and Adeline, therefore, was 
 either constrained to wait in the theatre until its 
 arrival, or to accept the offer of Monckton to walk 
 with her to her home. She preferred the latter plan, 
 and would that the spirits who watch over injured 
 innocence had, on this night, been more attentive to 
 the trust reposed in them. 
 
 Adeline and her worthless companion had not
 
 238 FITZALLAN. 
 
 proceeded far on their homeward route, when on the 
 opposite side of the street they beheld two persons, 
 one of whom appeared to be a female almost in the 
 last stage of exhaustion, and who, in her efforts to 
 advance, was supported by her companion, who 
 seemed to behave to her with the utmost kindness 
 and delicacy, and who cheered her on by words of 
 the most aflfectionate import. The dress of the 
 female appeared to be in great disorder, and by her 
 general appearance, the casual observer would have 
 denounced her to belong to that class of unfortunate 
 creatures who gain their sorry meal, and a pillow 
 often moistened with their tears, by prostitution — 
 tears which memory draws from its cells, when 
 she, in one of her most officious moods, holds up to 
 them the picture of what they once were. There 
 was, however, something in the conduct of those per- 
 sons so very peculiar, and so little harmonizing with 
 the suspicions that Monckton entertained as to the 
 character of the parties, that his curiosity was parti- 
 cularly excited to ascertain their real condition. 
 They stopped for a moment to watch their motions, 
 audit struck Monckton, on a sudden, that the sound 
 of one of the voices was perfectly familiar to him, and 
 urged on by a particular impulse, he determined to 
 satisfy himself of the fact. Influenced, however, by a 
 different principle, Adeline requested him to make 
 the necessary inquiries, for if relief were actually ne- 
 cessary, it should not be withheld. Monckton crossed 
 the street and followed the couple at some distance ; 
 the certainty was now clear to him — it was Fitzallan ;. 
 and of the character of the female with whom he was
 
 riTZALLAX. 239 
 
 in company, in his own mind not the slightest doubt 
 remained. To Monckton she appeared to be in the 
 worst state of intoxication ; every moment she would 
 have fallen to the ground, had s.le not been upheld 
 by Fitzallan, who continued to cheer her up, assuring 
 her that he was not far from his residence, where 
 every care and attention should be bestowed upon her. 
 Monckton also heard Fitzallan say something of the 
 villainy of her seducer, but although the night was 
 dark, he dared not approach so near as to catch every 
 word that was uttered. He, however, had heard and 
 seen enough to satisfy himself of the identity of the 
 person ; and with that malicious triumph which only a 
 base and ignoble soul can feel in the supposed de- 
 tection of another's fault, he hastened back to Ade- 
 line. " Here's a fine discovery," he exclaimed, on 
 joining her, " I always thought the morality and 
 virtue of Fitzallan to be all assumed, and my sus- 
 picions are now verified." 
 
 " Fitzallan !" exclaimed Adeline, " what of him ?" 
 
 " O, nothing remarkable — a mere trifle — an every- 
 day occurrence," answered Monckton, with a sneer, 
 " with this difference only, that some people have 
 more skill than others in conceaUng it from the 
 world." 
 
 " But you surely do not mean to insinuate," said 
 Adeline, " that the person whom you have just now 
 been watching is Fitzallan?" 
 
 *' I not only mean to insinuate it, but to assert it," 
 said Monckton. 
 
 " And his companion ?'* asked Adeline. 
 
 *' That is a subject," said Monckton, " on which
 
 240 FITZALLAN. 
 
 delicacy forbids me to converse with you, but your 
 own powers are sufficiently acute to determine at 
 once the nature of her character, and, consequently, 
 how very improper a companion Fitzallan has shown 
 himself for the virtuous part of the female sex." 
 
 This insinuation went deep to the heart of Adeline 
 — the sting of the serpent was too visible, but she 
 possessed sufficient penetration to discover that the 
 sole intent of Monckton was to degrade Fitzallan in 
 her good opinion, with the expectation that in pro- 
 portion as Fitzallan fell, he himself should rise. 
 Monckton, however, derived little advantage from 
 his unprincipled attempt ; on the contrary, he had not 
 acquired any correct knowledge of the real character 
 of Adeline ; he judged of her by the common standard 
 of other w omen, and therefore treated her as if she 
 possessed the mean and petty disposition, which 
 yields to every influence of jealousy, and will co-ope- 
 rate in any design, however degrading and pitiful, 
 by which the object which excites that jealousy 
 can be destroyed. Adeline was fully aware of her 
 own powers ; they had hitherto never failed in gain- 
 ing the end desired ; her plans were the result of 
 her own invention, and the instruments which she 
 chose to effect their accomplishment were fixed upon 
 by her own penetration and acuteness. If it had 
 been the wish of this extraordinary girl she could 
 have held a hundred suitors in her chains, but she 
 despised the common every-day character, which 
 possesses such a strong affinity to the mill-horse as 
 never to digress from a beaten path, and to have 
 i\ll its motions directed by the authority and control
 
 FITZALLAN. 241 
 
 of others. The conquest of such men she deemed 
 not worthy of her trouble, but there was something 
 in the character of Fitzallan which appeared to 
 indicate an originality of action — a spirit that would 
 not be controlled by the opinion of others — an inde- 
 pendence of mind which sought for its resources 
 within itself — and a stern and inflexible principle, 
 which led her to conclude that if she could once gain 
 his affections, they were hers for ever. The intent of 
 Monckton, therefore, wholly failed in the design 
 which he had in view ; and in some degree his in- 
 sinuations had a direct contrary effect to that which 
 he expected, for, so far from injuring Fitzallan in her 
 good opinion, she resolved to employ every art to 
 attach the young libertine, as she supposed Fitzallan 
 to be, more closely to her, and the whole of her am- 
 bition now seemed to be either by the force of her affec- 
 tion, or by stratagem and intrigue, to break asunder 
 every connexion which Fitzallan might have formed 
 with other females, and to reign herself sole empress 
 of his love. 
 
 Discoursing on the relation which could possibly 
 exist between Fitzallan and his midnight associate, 
 they arrived at the door of Adeline's house, and 
 Monckton having promised to pay her an early visit 
 on the following morning, they separated, but not 
 until Monckton had promised to obtain all the infor- 
 mation in his power respecting the character and 
 condition of the female associate of Fitzallan. 
 
 Monckton had penetration sufficient to discover 
 that the interest which Adeline took in this adven- 
 ture did not procef'.d from a common cause ; he sus- 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 FITZALLAN. 
 
 pected that she had imbibed an ardent attachment 
 for Fitzallan, and therefore, as far as his machina- 
 tions could extend, his ruin was determined on. 
 His accidental discovery of Fitzallan with Lady 
 Amelia gave him a powerful instrument in his hand 
 towards the accomplishment of his purpose, and he 
 doubted not that he should be able to effect his im- 
 mediate and disgraceful dismissal from all further 
 intercourse with her family ; for, under the well-known 
 circumstances in which Lady Ameha then stood, 
 as the betrothed bride of another, the promulga- 
 tion of a clandestine meeting with a young man of 
 ignoble birth, and of no hereditary pretensions to 
 exalted rank, could not fail to be followed by the 
 excitement of the utmost indignation on the part of 
 her parents, and the immediate issue from them of 
 the most imperative mandate to their daughter to 
 hold no further acquaintance with him ; indepen- 
 dently of which it might further operate as a strong 
 inducement on the part of her family to expedite her 
 marriage, and thereby frustrate at once any vain 
 pretension which Fitzallan might have entertained 
 to the affections of Lady Amelia. 
 
 In regard to the estimation in which Fitzallan was 
 held by Adeline, there also he beheld the prospect 
 opened before him of subjecting him to the most 
 mortifying degradation. In the discovery of an. 
 intrigue with an abandoned female, he considered 
 that ample materials were put into his hands where- 
 with to destroy any latent affection which might 
 have arisen in the breast of Adeline for him, and 
 he therefore determined, when he parted with her,
 
 FITZALLAN. 243 
 
 to hasten back to the house in which Fitzallan re- 
 sided, and obtain some further information of the 
 real condition of the female, and the exact relation in 
 which she stood with Fitzallan. 
 
 He had not proceeded far when in the distant 
 gloom he observed a man approaching' him, who, 
 by the singularity of his actions, excited his particular 
 attention. At one time he stood still — held his hand 
 to his forehead — his head directed upwards, as if mut- 
 tering some half unintelligible prayer to his God ; 
 then on a sudden he would dart forwards, waving the 
 air with his arms, as if to remove every obstacle that 
 might impede his progress. As he came near to 
 Monckton, he exclaimed, " It is over — one deed more 
 and I am at rest — the cold airs of death are flitting 
 round me — it is but a moment, and the next all is 
 hushed." Monckton muffled himself up closely in 
 his cloak, so that not a feature of his face could be 
 discovered ; he could not describe the feelings which 
 assailed him, but an awful presentiment seemed to 
 weigh heavily upon him, that a crisis was approach- 
 ing which was to determine the future destiny of 
 his life. On the mysterious stranger coming up to 
 him, he started, exclaiming, " Ah ! who art thou ? 
 This is the hour of sleep — it is only the wretched 
 that are awake — I alone then, of all created beings, 
 have a right to be awake ; dost thou now cross me 
 in my path to hold me from my intent, that the 
 earth may not drink his blood — that the fiends of 
 hell may not hear his expiring cries — and the deep 
 curses of an injured father may not mingle with his 
 last groan ? Speak ! what hast thou to do with me ?
 
 244 FITZALLAN. 
 
 • The linees of Monckton tottered — a convulsive 
 shudder shot through all his frame — he would have 
 fled, but he felt himself almost rivetted to the ground 
 — he saw himself on a sudden in the presence of the . 
 only individual in the world whom he feared most 
 to meet. A breath, a word might detect him, and 
 the consequences of that detection, he foresaw too 
 well. He felt himself as if thrown on a sudden 
 within the control of some avenging spirit, from 
 whom no power was given him to escape. The 
 terrors of darkness were around him, the silence 
 of night conjured up before him a thousand phan- 
 toms, each more horrible than the former. He 
 gasped for breath — shuddered — and made a sign 
 for Arnfeld to pass on. " I will," said he, in a soft- 
 ened voice, " but whither I know not." He rested 
 his head for a moment in his hand, as if anxious to 
 collect his scattered senses. " Tell me, ere we part, 
 perhaps thou art one like myself, driven out of the 
 herd of human society, deeply, deeply steeped in 
 wretchedness — but once thou still wert happy ; per- 
 haps thou hast, heard a dearly beloved child lisping 
 the name of father ; as a father thou hast perhaps 
 known the bliss of pressing to thy heart a virtuous 
 child !" 
 
 Monckton shook his head, and leaned against the 
 wall for support. " Then," exclaimed Arnfeld, 
 *' hast thou never tasted the happiness of life! But 
 hear me," and he seized the arm of Monckton. 
 " Ah ! thou tremblest ! At what ? Thou dost not 
 fear me ? I never yet did harm to human creature 
 — I never strangled the babe in the mother's lap — I
 
 FITZALLAN. 245 
 
 never tore the father from the child — the child from 
 the father — I never yet destroyed a daughter's virtue, 
 and drove the father forth upon the world, a mad- 
 dened, murdering maniac. Look at those stars in 
 their everlasting radiance ; she Vi^as once as pure as 
 is their light, spotless as their glory, immaculate as 
 their celestial origin : but he came, the damned fiend 
 of hell, Monckton — the accursed villain came, stole 
 into the sanctuary of my happiness, the hom.e of my 
 dearest, fondest joys ; around as fair a form as nature 
 ever made, the serpent wound his treacherous coi-ls ; 
 his polluted lips stole her first, her virgin kiss; 
 breathed his perjured vows of everlasting love: to her 
 heart she pressed the hellish traitor; the day was 
 fixed when she M^as to become his wife, but mark — 
 one night the fiend sat at my board ; in the cup which 
 I was accustomed to drink to the happiness of my 
 «hild ere I retired to rest, he mixed the narcotic drug : 
 the father slept midst visions of future bliss; he 
 w^oke in racking torments, in all the bitterness of men- 
 tal anguish, in the dread certainty that a father's 
 dearest, fondest hopes were ruined, — blasted for ever. 
 There is not a stone, nor tree, nor living being to 
 whom I will not tell my griefs ; a thousand times I 
 have told them to my God, and have they not been 
 heard ? yes, he has given them to his angel of retri- 
 bution to hold them in his keeping until the hour 
 arrives when his vengeance will be hurled on the 
 head of the murderer of the innocence of my child." 
 Monckton spoke not, he wished almost that the 
 earth would open beneath him and engulf him : he 
 made a motion to escape. " Slop," exclaimed Arn«
 
 246 FITZALLAN, 
 
 jfeld, " ere we part, I have one boon to ask of thee, 
 and then onwards to my fate. Give me thy hand ; 
 'tis as cold and clammy as if death had stricken it : 
 there — there is mine — tremble not; with that pressure 
 I, Alfred Arnfeld, thrice curse the man, who is the 
 seducer of my child, — curse him I ! curse him ! ! curse 
 him ! ! Thou hast heard my tale of grief, wilt thou 
 not curse him also? Curse him, and I will give thee 
 my benediction : curse him, and I will fall on my 
 knees and kiss thy feet. Why hesitate? — curse him, 
 I demand it of thee ; it will be a solace to my heart 
 to know that another's malediction than mine has 
 been pronounced against him, that another's curse 
 than mine will follow him to the judgment-seat of 
 his God." 
 
 A dead silence followed. Arnfeld still held the 
 hand of Monckton — it was a pause thrilling, agoniz- 
 ing, and to the pain of which no opiate could be 
 administered to alleviate its intensity. " Curse him ; 
 I again call upon thee to curse him," said Arnfeld, ia 
 a deep expressive tone. Monckton appeared on a 
 sudden to rouse all the energies of his nature ; a 
 spirit of vigour and power seemed to be suddenly 
 infused into him ; he stood on the verge of desperation, 
 — when cowards even exhibit a degree of boldness of 
 which under any other circumstances they would 
 be incapable. *' Dotard," he exclaimed, levelling 
 him at the same time with the ground by a blow, 
 *' wouldst thou have me curse myself?" and thus 
 saying, he fled with the utmost precipitation. 
 
 " Hell-hound of earth 1" exclaimed Arnfeld, rising 
 from the s-round ; " and is it thou then whose hand I
 
 FITZALLAN. 247 
 
 have been grasping?" He took a pistol from his 
 pocket, and fired it in the direction which Monckton 
 had taken, but he had gained too great a distance for 
 the shot to take effect. 
 
 " But I'll follow thee," exclaimed Arnfeld, " and 
 be it to the verge of the earth." His senses madden- 
 ing with anger and revenge, Arnfeld rushed along 
 the streets, but no signs of his \-ictim presented 
 themselves. Heedless of surrounding circumstances, 
 his whole soul absorbed in one great, overpowering 
 object, he found himself on a sudden at the outskirts 
 of the town ; weary and exhausted, faint with anguish 
 of mind and body, he seated himself on a trunk of a 
 tree, which lay by the road side. The morning found 
 him there, his grey locks dropping with the dew, 
 himself an expressive spectacle of the extreme of 
 human wretchedness. 
 
 It was some time before Monckton halted in his 
 flight ; every noise he heard conveyed to his ears the 
 sound of the footsteps of his pursuer, but his breath 
 ultimately failed him, and he stopped, — he listened, 
 all was still ; his respiration became more easy, he 
 began to shake off the impression which the sudden 
 rencontre with Arnfeld had made upon his mind, and 
 he rose a few degrees in his own opinion for the bold 
 and resolute manner in which he had put an end to 
 the scene. In the hurry of his flight, the particular 
 route which he took was wholly indifferent to him, 
 and when he stopped, he found himself within a few 
 paces of the house in which Fitzallan resided. This 
 circumstance for a time expelled from his mind every 
 relation to his scene with Arnfeld, and Fitzallan and
 
 248 FITZALLAN. 
 
 his female associate now absorbed the whole of his 
 attention. He directed his eyes to the apartment 
 which he knew was occupied by Fitzallan. Lights 
 were still burning in it, and it was evident by the 
 shadows that flitted across the blinds, that the inmates 
 had not yet retired to rest. Here was some food for 
 the malicious and illiberal spirit of Monckton to gloat 
 upon. The degenerate mind will see depravity in the 
 actions of a Howard, or of any other genuine philan- 
 thropist ; it will see a sin in the purity of an angel's 
 kiss, and the construction which Monckton now put 
 upon the actions of Fitzallan, could only have been 
 engendered in a heart like his. He now considered 
 that he had obtained so much information, as he could 
 work up into an act of positive delinquency, to report 
 to Adeline on the morrow, and he therefore deter- 
 mined to hasten home, and recover himself from the 
 perturbation which late events had caused in his 
 mind. HeAvas on the point of retiring, when his 
 attention was suddenly attracted by observing the 
 door of Fitzallan's house gently open, and he 
 presented himself, to all appearance equipped for 
 travelling. Monckton immediately concealed himself 
 within the door-way of the opposite house. Fitz- 
 allan stood for a moment on the threshold, looking 
 cautiously around him, and then, locking the door 
 after him, directed his steps in a hasty manner down 
 the street. Monckton followed at a distance, deter- 
 mined to obtain correct information of this mysterious 
 conduct of Fitzallan, and he saw him at last stop at the 
 gate of the principal inn of the town, into which, after 
 having rang the bell furiously for some time, he was
 
 FITZALLAN. 249 
 
 admitted : his stay there, however, was but momen- 
 tary. " Let it be got ready immediately," he was 
 heard to say as he left the inn, and, having received 
 an affirmative answer, he hurried back to his house. 
 *' What can all this mean ?" said Moncktou to himself. 
 *' Where there is mystery there is evil, at least so the / 
 world judges it ; but yet I know Fitzallaii to be too 
 good and virtuous to suspect him of being engaged in 
 a work of immorality or villainy ; but still it has the 
 semblance of it, and that is enough for me :" it is 
 enough also for the world, for the world often passes 
 its judgments on the actions of men more from sem- 
 blance than from any well-founded knowledge of their 
 Teal principles. The lights in Fitzallan's apartment 
 were now seen passing to and fro with rapidity : the 
 parties within appeared to be in an unusual bustle, 
 and once Fitzallan was seen to open the window, 
 and, by his gestures, to hsten for some expected object. 
 At this moment Monckton caught a glimpse of the 
 female on retiring from the window ; she threw her 
 arms around the neck of Fitzallan, and appeared as 
 if she were overcome with the intensity of her feel- 
 ings. Fitzallan pressed her to his heart, the shutter 
 was closed, and Monckton could see no more. 
 
 The distant rolling of a carriage now suddenly 
 attracted the attention of ]\Ionckton ; it approached 
 at a rapid rate towards the place where he was stand- 
 ing, and in a few minutes it stopped at the door of 
 Fitzallan's house. The parties within appeared to 
 be in full readiness. Scarcely a moment was lost ; 
 Fitzallan appeared supporting his almost lifeless com- 
 panion ; they entered the carriage ; Fitzallan was
 
 250 FTTZALLAN. 
 
 heard to enjoin the postiHon to use the utmost expe- 
 dition ; it drove otF, leaving Monckton in a state of 
 wonder and surprise. 
 
 That Fitzallan was engaged in the abduction of 
 some female was now fully clear to Monckton, but 
 the great difficulty rose in fixing upon the identical 
 individual. Monckton was himself a libertine, and 
 therefore it was his pride to think that every other 
 person was as profligate as himself; but it is a prin- 
 ciple that is fully in accordance with the general de- 
 pravity of our nature. We are too prone in the 
 usual affairs of life to constitute ourselves as the 
 standard by which we are to judge of the actions of 
 others ; and in some instances there are those con- 
 ceited, inflated individuals, who arrogate to themselves 
 the right of laying down a rule of action for others, 
 according to their own narrow and contracted views 
 and prejudices ; and further, they presume to stigma- 
 tize a departure therefrom as a direct infraction of the 
 established rules of morality. In the present case, 
 however, Monckton could not have selected an indi- 
 vidual more improper wherewith to compare himself 
 than Fitzallan ; nevertheless he had formed too just 
 an estimate of his character to suppose that he would 
 engage himself in any immoral transaction with a 
 female, if the affections of his heart were not engaged 
 rn it, and therefore Monckton began to compare the 
 figure of the fugitive lady, as far as he could obtain 
 a glimpse of it, with that of any well-known favourite 
 of Fitzallan's, and the result of that comparison was, 
 that the figure of the lady corresponded in every 
 respect with that of Lady Amelia Fortescue ; and
 
 FITZALLAN. 251 
 
 before Monckton reached his home, it was a settled 
 point in his own mind, that the fugitive was no other 
 personage than her Ladyship, and that the whole plan 
 of the elopement had been arranged at their clan- 
 destine meeting in the morning. This was a very 
 wise and rational conclusion, and it showed that he 
 knew as much of the real character of the respective 
 parties, whom he was thus scrutinizing in his own mind, 
 as a Mussulman knows of Moses. He had, however, 
 one certain method of ascertaining the route which 
 the lovers had taken, and the retreat which they had 
 chosen in which to hide their love from the world, by- 
 questioning the postilion who had driven them ; and 
 with the determination of making the necessary 
 inquiries at an early hour in the morning, he re- 
 gained his home, by no means at rest concerning the 
 events of the night.
 
 Ctj 
 
 52 FITZALLAN. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Love should in secret like ihe sun 
 Burn though a world should shade it, 
 
 But show its source of heat to none, 
 Except that God who made it. 
 
 The family of the Glencoes, who had now taken up 
 their abode in the town for the season, were seated at 
 breakfast ; the topic of their conversation, the extra- 
 ordinary preparations which were making by General 
 Hamilton for the approaching masquerade, when a 
 letter was delivered to the Earl, which the footman 
 reported had been delivered by a stranger, who de- 
 sired that it might not be delivered into any other 
 hands than those of the Earl himself. Whilst he was 
 breaking the seal, he said to Lady Amelia, his daugh- 
 ter, " You have then, my dear, tixed upon the cha- 
 racter in which you will appear." 
 
 *' I have, father," answered Lady Amelia, " and I 
 think a Franciscan nun will be a very becoming one." 
 
 " Rather out of keeping," said the Earl, '' for a 
 lady whom I hope to see a bride in a few weeks.'* 
 
 " Strange ! very strange '." said the Earl, as he 
 read the letter, and appeared for a moment to be lost 
 in thought. 
 
 " I hope no unpleasant intelligence is contained
 
 FITZALLAN. 253 
 
 in that letter," said the Countess, who had observed 
 the sudden change in the countenance of the Earl on 
 finishing the perusal of the letter. 
 
 " Nothing — nothing very important," answ^ered 
 the Earl, putting the letter into his pocket, and the 
 conversation resumed its former course. Still, how- 
 ever, it was evident that the contents of the letter had 
 thrown the Earl into an abstraction of thought by no 
 means natural to him ; and so prone are we when we 
 are conscious to ourselves that we have been guilty 
 of any impropriety of conduct, to consider that every 
 circumstance which transpires has some reference to 
 the detection of it, that Lady Amelia began to fear 
 that some malicious person had in the letter informed 
 her father of her clandestine interview with Fitzallan 
 on the preceding morning ; and with this persuasion 
 on her mind, she scarcely dared to lift her eyes, 
 dreading to meet the sternness of the parental frown. 
 
 " 1 wish," said the Earl, " that the General had 
 chosen any other species of entertainment than a 
 masquerade wherewith to amuse his company. I 
 am by no means friendly to such motley meetings,, 
 where disguise and concealment offer so many op- 
 portunities to the professed libertine to take those 
 advantages which are fraught with so much danger to 
 the female character." 
 
 " Your objection,! admit, may hold good," said the 
 Countess, *' in a public masquerade, where all cha- 
 racters are indiscriminately admitted, where decency 
 and decorum are openly violated, and where the vice 
 which dares not show itself in the open day becomes, 
 as it were, the very aim and intent of the entertain-
 
 254 FITZALLAN. 
 
 ment ; but in select society, where the invitation on 
 the part of a respectable and distinguished individual, 
 as in the present case, presupposes a guarantee for 
 the correctness and propriety of the conduct of his 
 visitors, I hold it rather squeamish and fastidious to 
 attach criminality to a harmless display of mirth, and 
 to suppose that under every mask lurk vice and 
 contamination." 
 
 " You mistake me wholly," said the Earl ; " I hope 
 I possess too much liberality of mind, and too en- 
 larged a knowledge of the world, to denounce all 
 to be delinquents who frequent a masquerade ; it is 
 the abuse of such meetings of which I complain ; 
 besides you must convince me that the display of 
 mirth evinced even at a select masquerade is quite so 
 harmless as you represent it ; we know well to what 
 harmless mirth, as it is called, often leads — especially 
 if it be carried on under a mask. I delight in mirth, 
 abstractedly considered, but I will venture to pro- 
 nounce that many a girl, even in our sphere of life, 
 has reason to rue the hour, when, under the pretence 
 of enjoying a little harmless mirth at a masquerade, 
 she has taken the advantage, which the assumption 
 of a fictitious character so readily affords her, of per- 
 haps carrying on an intrigue with an undeserving 
 object, an individual who in rank, birth, expectations, 
 and pretensions, is far beneath her, and who, perhaps, 
 would never be admitted into her family but in the 
 capacity of a menial." 
 
 The feelings which at this moment agitated the 
 bosom of Lady Amelia may be easily conceived. She 
 cast an expressive glance towards her i'riend Julia,
 
 FITZALLAN. 255 
 
 and the look which was returned, did not tend to 
 allay her confusion. The pointed allusion of her 
 father, so applicable to her own situation, could not, 
 in her opinion, possibly have any other reference than 
 to her intrigue with Fitzallan. To look her father 
 in the face at that moment would have been impos- 
 sible, and had he addressed himself to her, her ex- 
 treme embarrassment could not have failed to raise 
 some very alarming suspicions in his breast, which, if 
 they had undergone a thorough investigation, would 
 have led to the full discovery of her secret attach- 
 ment, and the consequent destruction of her dearest 
 hopes. 
 
 Fortunately, however, for Lady Amelia, her father 
 continued to address himself to her mother until her 
 confusion had wholly subsided, and she had recovered 
 her wonted composure ; when, turning to her, he said, 
 " Can you explain to me, my dear, your particular 
 reason for selecting the character of a Franciscan nun? 
 a nun at a masquerade is as inconsistent as a pope 
 dancing a quadrille, or a harlequin in a methodist 
 conventicle. In what manner do you mean to sustain 
 the character ? by counting your beads and mutter- 
 ing your paternosters ? if so, I fear you will 
 prove rather a nuisance than an acquisition to the 
 company." 
 
 Lady Amelia felt herself greatly relieved in finding 
 her father treating the subject thus jocosely ; and she 
 answered, that she was more indebted to her friend 
 Julia for the selection of the character, than to any 
 predilection on her own part. 
 
 *' Then I suppose," said her father, *' you would
 
 256 FITZ ALLAN. 
 
 not feel any objection to change it to any other cha- 
 racter which I might propose to you." 
 
 This was a proposition totally unexpected by Lady 
 Amelia ; the very change of character might defeat 
 all the plans which she had laid for her stolen inter- 
 views with the Carmelite monk, and she hesitatingly 
 replied, that she had been at considerable pains in., 
 preparing her dress for that character, and that as 
 the masquerade took place in a few days, she feared 
 she should not have time to prepare another. 
 
 " That is an objection," said the Earl, " which we 
 will soon surmount ; have you any other to make to 
 a change of character?" 
 
 Lady Amelia was now driven to the last resource. 
 " I should not like," she said, " to assume a cha- 
 racter, which requires any great talent or particular 
 qualification to support, and, for that reason, I con- 
 sidered the character of a Franciscan nun as falling 
 exactly within the scope of my abilities ; besides, my 
 dear father, you must admit, that the demure and 
 formal character of a nun, repulsive in its very na- 
 ture, possesses this advantage, that it operates as a 
 check to any of those rude advances to which a more 
 sprightly character would subject me." 
 
 " I admit the truth of that remark to a certain ex- 
 tent," said the Earl, " still I am not quite certain 
 whether your appearance in that character would not 
 subject you to greater annoyance, than if you selected 
 one of a more equivocal nature. Consulting my own 
 disposition, I should say, that I should select a nun 
 at a masquerade as the most favourite object of my 
 annoyance ; there is something pleasing in the idea
 
 FITZALLAN. 257 
 
 of turning hypocrisy and bigotry into ridicule ; and I 
 am not aware of any character which furnishes that 
 satisfaction more abundantly than the forced and un- 
 natural character of a nun ; therefore on these 
 grounds, your objection is not tenable. But there is 
 another point : have you ever consulted your intended 
 husband on the choice of your character? I should 
 think he was the first person whom you would have 
 consulted ; at all events, he should be apprized of 
 the character in which you intend to appear." 
 
 " I have always understood, my Lord," said 
 Lady Amelia, " that the ignorance which other per- 
 sons have of the character which is assumed, forms 
 one of the chief amusements of the scene ; for there 
 is no real difference between a masquerade and a 
 common ball room, if all be privy to each offer's 
 character.'' 
 
 •' And therefore," said the Earl, " you have not 
 made known to Sir H. JMontfort the character ia 
 which you intend to appear ?'' 
 
 " I cannot entertain the slightest objection," said 
 Lady Amelia, " to Sir H. Montfort's knowing the 
 character which I have selected ; on the contrary, I 
 believe that he is fully aware that I shall appear as a 
 liun." 
 
 " Indeed !" said the Earl, rather struck with this 
 acknowledgment on the part of Lady Amelia, *' then 
 I have a plan in my head, which will afford us 
 considerable amusement. Julia shall appear as the 
 Franciscan nun, and you shall appear as a vestal of 
 the sun. It will be a source of great amusement to 
 Kie, to see Sir H. Montforl paying his addresses to 
 
 VOL. I. s
 
 258 FITZALLAN. 
 
 the nun under the supposition that he is paying his 
 court to his future bride ; let it, therefore, be arranged 
 accordingly. The dress of a vestal requires very 
 little preparation ; you remember seeing it personi- 
 fied in the play of Pizarro, and a few hours, with a 
 little extra assistance, will be sufficient to prepare 
 the dress." 
 
 The Earl rose from the table, and he was followed 
 by the Countess into the library, which they had no 
 sooner entered, than his Lordship put the following 
 letter into her hands, saying, *' I fear there is some 
 mischief attached to the advice contained in it." 
 The letter ran as follows : 
 
 My Lord, 
 
 Circumstances have come to my knowledge in 
 which the welfare and interests of your family are 
 specially concerned; I, therefore, advise you, not 
 to allow your daughter. Lady Amelia, to assume the 
 character of a Franciscan nun at the masquerade of 
 General Hamilton. No further explanation will at 
 present be given. Beware ! 
 
 Had the Earl been a strong-minded man, he would, 
 perhaps, have treated this anonymous epistle with the 
 contempt which it deserved, and have considered it 
 as the act of some dastardly fellow, smarting, per- 
 haps, under a supposed injury, or acting under the 
 influence of revenge. The Countess declared,that if 
 her noble husband had no other grounds for the 
 change of character than the advice contained in 
 that letter, she, on her part, would show the cow-
 
 FITZALLAN. 259 
 
 ardly writer, that they rejected his anonymous advice 
 altogether, and she would recommend that Lady 
 Ameha should appear in her original character. The 
 Earl, however, had acted upon the impulse of the 
 moment ; and although on viewing the matter from 
 every possible point, and still being unable to detect 
 the slightest danger which could accrue to his 
 daughter by the assumption of the character which 
 she had selected, yet he resolved immediately to act 
 upon the advice contained in the letter, and, in conse- 
 quence, recommended to his daughter the proposed 
 change. Suspicion, when once excited, catches hold 
 of the minutest circumstances which can tend to con- 
 firm it, and the studied opposition which Lady 
 Amelia gave to the change of character, and the 
 artful and adroit manner in which she attempted to 
 evade his objections, all tended to confirm the Earl 
 that there was some good ground for the warning 
 which he had received, and that some secret cause 
 existed, which he could not solve, for her adhering 
 so pertinaciously to the character which she had ori- 
 ginally chosen. 
 
 The Countess ultimately coincided in the senti- 
 ments expressed by the Earl, and it was determined 
 between them, that the most vigilant eye should be 
 kept on the motions of Lady Amelia, in order to de- 
 tect any clandestine transaction in which she might be 
 engaged ; in the mean time, however, that the contents 
 of the anonymous letter should be kept a secret from 
 her, and that she should be led to believe that the 
 change in the character originated solely from the 
 whim and caprice of the parent. 
 s2
 
 260 FITZALLAN. 
 
 In all matters in which love has anyl'ning to do, 
 and in the juvenile part of our life it mixes itself up ia 
 almost all our actions, it generally happens, that the 
 prudence and boasted foresight of the parent are com- 
 pletely frustrated by the cunning and ingenuity of 
 the daughter. At the very moment when the parent 
 flatters himself with the consoling idea that he has 
 completely outwitted the daughter, it generally hap- 
 pens that the daughter has completely outwitted him. 
 If, therefore, it has ever happened, and happened it 
 has ever since the human species began to multiply, 
 that the daughter, from the single power of her own 
 prolific brain has outwitted the father, what possible 
 chance of success could the Earl expect to enjoy, 
 when he had to contend with two sets of brains, and 
 one of them in itself competent to hoodwink a far 
 more shrewd and calculating head than nature had 
 been pleased to put upon the shoulders of the Earl. 
 
 The Earl and Countess had no sooner left the 
 breakfast room, and Lady Amelia and Julia were 
 alone, than a deep consultation was held as to the 
 dilemma in which they were thrown by the unex- 
 pected proposition of the Earl ; an examination was 
 also entered into as to the motives which could have 
 induced his Lordship to interfere so peremptorily in 
 the change of Lady Amelia's character, and having 
 weighed the matter in every shape and form, they 
 could not arrive at any other conclusion, than that it 
 was the effect of mere whim, and as such. Lady 
 Amelia was bound to coincide with the wishes of her 
 parent ; but the next and most material point to be 
 remedied was, in what manner was Fitzallan to be
 
 PITZALLAN. 261 
 
 apprized of this change, and the ingenuity of the girls 
 soon discovered that the Earl himself had very kindly, 
 though, no doubt, very unintentionally, provided 
 them with the very means of accomplishing their 
 wishes. He had himself recommended that Julia 
 should appear in the character of the Franciscan nun, 
 *' therefore," said the sprightly girl, " leave the re- 
 mainder to me. I will soon guide the Carmelite 
 monk to where he shall find the vestal of the sun." 
 
 Lady Amelia had exercised the greatest industry 
 and perseverance in the preparation of her religious 
 habit, but it was surprising how great were her exer- 
 tions to complete her vestal dress. She declared to 
 her father, that she was by no means displeased with 
 the change ; and that she considered the character of 
 a vestal far more dignified and becoming than the 
 sullen and taciturn one of a nun. The father was 
 delighted with the obedience of the daughter to his 
 wishes. It was an additional proof that she had no 
 clandestine end in view in fixing upon her original 
 character. The daughter secretly enjoyed her triumph 
 over her father, the father secretly enjoyed the victory 
 over his daughter. 
 
 We pretend not to have penetrated deeper into the 
 mysteries of a woman's heart than any other earth- 
 born creature ; but we have by some means stumbled 
 upon the opinion that nature has enveloped the heart 
 of woman in a thousand folds, into which no one can 
 penetrate, and in which the most skilful and cautious 
 are often caught. We have, even in our juvenility, 
 discovered that the wisest of men is nothing less
 
 262 FITZALLAN. 
 
 than a fool in the company of that woman, who has 
 made up her mind to make him her dupe. 
 
 Feverish and unrefreshed, Monckton rose from his 
 bed at an early hour, his mind distracted with the 
 scenes of the preceding night, for he was now fully 
 convinced that unless he could devise some measures 
 for the removal of Arnfeld and the victim of his law- 
 less passion from the town and neighbourhood, his 
 life would soon become forfeited to the ungovernable 
 fury of the former, and which never could be checked 
 by any affection which the daughter might still enter- 
 tain for him. He saw himself beset on all sides with 
 danger, and there was only one way of averting it, and 
 that was by leading the daughter of Arnfeld to the 
 altar ; thereby making every possible atonement for 
 the injury which he had committed. " Perish rather," 
 he exclaimed, " than have recourse to such a dreadful 
 alternative. I, the heir to a peerage, to a princely 
 fortune, to sacrifice myself and all my splendid 
 prospects in life, for a weak and foolish girl ! What, 
 if the fruit fell at the first shaking of the branch ! it 
 would have fallen to any other who had beheld its 
 ripeness ; and should I not have been a fool to have 
 turned away and left it to the first casual stranger, 
 who might have been tempted by its beauty? To 
 talk of seduction, ruin, iniam5% what are they after 
 all ? they are mere words, signifying nothing in the 
 present case : a humble, low, and poverty-stricken 
 girl, who was simpleton enough to believe my pro- 
 testations of love ; to puff herself up with the proud 
 conceit that I should condescend to make her my wife ;
 
 FITZALLAN. 263 
 
 it is really laughable — and then this flustering — this 
 cursing — this hurly-burly of the old doting father. 
 What has he lost ? his daughter is as good to him as 
 before ; she can dress his dinner as well, make his 
 bed as well, read novels and romances until they 
 both fall asleep, and then, suddenly awakening, 
 mumble over their prayers, and pass the night in 
 snoring and in dreaming ; and then the pregnancy, 
 what a fuss and a bother about it; what certainty 
 have I that the little urchin will have a greater right 
 to call me father than the commonest scavenger in 
 the street ? but I suppose I shall be obliged to allow 
 her a few shillings a week for the support of the 
 bantling. Well, I won't begrudge it them ; it may 
 enable the old man to take an extra glass of ale 
 before he goes to bed, and instead of drinking 
 to the happiness of his own daughter, as he was 
 wont to do, he may now drink it to the health of her 
 child." 
 
 Thus communed this profligate with himself, and 
 he now determined to hasten to Adeline to convey 
 to her the account of the mysterious proceedings of 
 Fitzallan, and to lay such plans as would ultimately 
 tend to alienate from him altogether the esteem 
 and regard of Lady Amelia Fortescue. Not that 
 he had any wish to ingratiate himself in her favour, 
 but from some reason which he could not define, 
 he had imbibed an inveterate hatred for Fitzallan, 
 and which was not a little increased by the strong 
 partiality which Adeline evinced for him. He had 
 formed certain views regarding that beautiful girl, 
 which he had no doubt, from the general volatility
 
 264 FITZALLAN. 
 
 of her character, that he should see ultimately ac- 
 complished, but not so long as Fitzallan held that 
 ascendency in her affections, which she did not, nor 
 even appeared anxious to conceal. The very inter- 
 ference of his father in behalf of Fitzallan had 
 augmented the dislike which he had imbibed against 
 him, and the severe reproof which Fitzallan had 
 given him in the presence of Lady Amelia and Julia 
 respecting the daughter of Arnfeld, had roused every 
 latent spirit of revenge in his breast, and, coute qui 
 coute, the ruin of Fitzallan was determined on. 
 
 Previously to repairing to the house of Adeline, 
 Monckton, for the purpose of gaining further infor- 
 mation, determined to pay a visit to the inn from 
 which Fitzallan had hired the chaise, with the hope 
 of meeting with the postilion who had driven him, 
 and thereby obtaining a direct clue to the place of 
 concealment where Fitzallan had taken the lady. 
 In an apparently careless and indifferent manner he 
 entered the inn-yard, and being well known, he 
 began to question the several postilions as to the 
 journeys which they had lately taken ; from some he 
 received a rebuff not of the most courteous kind, and 
 from others he could only obtain a snap of the fingers, 
 or some other similarly expressive action character- 
 istic of the gentlemen of the saddle. Fortune, how- 
 ever, favoured him at last, for he observed a pos- 
 tilion rubbing down his horses at the further end 
 of the yard, and he began to suspect that he might 
 be the very individual who had driven Fitzallan 
 and his fair fugitive. On approaching the postilion, 
 Monckton overheard the following conversation^
 
 FITZALLAN. 2B5 
 
 which passed between the postilion and one of his 
 companions. 
 
 *' Rot these night jobs say I," said the postilion, 
 *' what's a man good for if he has not his proper 
 rest? however, she's snugly housed for the present, 
 and I wish I may drive them back again if I receive 
 the same handsome fee." 
 
 " Had you far to go ?" asked his companion. 
 
 " You know the pretty whitewashed cottage, 
 covered with roses and honeysuckles, that stands 
 
 near the fourth milestone on the road to , it was 
 
 but a trip, scarcely worthy of putting a harness upon 
 a horse. But to all appearances their arrival was 
 wholly unexpected, for the old lady of the cottage 
 grumbled sorely at being taken so by surprise ; but 
 she soon altered her tone ; you know, old boy, there 
 are more ways than one of making a woman alter 
 her tone." 
 
 " And what mattered that all to you," said his 
 companion, " if he came down well with the hustlt ? 
 Zounds, man, never complain ; I'd bump the saddle 
 all night to be paid as you have been." 
 
 "As to that," said the postilion, " I have no 
 reason to complain of ray night's job ; he's a devilish 
 generous cove that I drove, and considering the dis- 
 tance was so small, I got as much as if I had driven 
 the whole stage ; but, mwm, it was high time he 
 moved the lady somewhere, for, dang me, by her 
 size, if I did not think that although I took up only 
 two persons, I should set down three ; but, after all, 
 she is a sweet creature ; I'd give all my wages for a 
 kiss of her ; but," continued the postboy, with that
 
 26G riTZALLAN. 
 
 impudent, significant look, which this class of peopte 
 can so well assume, " I think it is not all right in 
 that quarter ; you know, Tom, what I mean ; such 
 sobbing, and such weeping, and then such loving, 
 such affectionate behaviour on the part of the gen- 
 tleman, and then such exclamations of Oh, my father, 
 my dear father ! Ay, ay, Tom, such will ever be 
 the case when girls allow themselves to be driven by 
 nature, before they have obtained a passport from the 
 parson to travel the road they want." 
 
 The attention of Mdnckton was particularly ex- 
 cited by the latter remarks, for they went to prove 
 that Fitzallan must have been engaged in some 
 illicit amour, and that he had taken the precaution, 
 under the covert of the night, to remove the object of 
 his guilty passion to a distance. 
 
 *' And pray," said Monckton, addressing himself 
 to the postilion, *' how do you know that the gen- 
 tleman was not the husband of the lady?" 
 
 " Eh ! and pray who are you," exclaimed the 
 postboy, *' that wants to know anything about the 
 business ? You may ask my horse if you like, but 
 dang me if I will ever split against those who have 
 behaved well to me, so do you ask me no more, or 
 you'll get an answer that you won't like." 
 
 *' Impudent fellow !" muttered Monckton, as he 
 turned his back to leave the yard, " but I have heard 
 as much as I want to know ;" and, with his budget 
 of inflammatory intelligence, he hastened to the resi- 
 dence of Adeline. 
 
 He found her at the breakfast-table, in all the vo^ 
 luptuousness of the morning negligee; an unusual
 
 FITZALLAN. 267 
 
 fire appeared to beam from her eyes. Health spread 
 its freshest loses on her cheeks, the vermihon colour 
 of her lips seemed as if it had been heightened by 
 the glowing- kisses of love, and the full and round 
 form of her neck and bosom, partially exposed, gave 
 to Monckton a foretaste of the heaven that awaited 
 the individual who could call her his own. In one 
 respect Monckton might have said, 
 
 Vous etes si bonne et si belle, 
 Vous possedez tant de vertus, d'appas, 
 Qu'en voiis cieant, Dieu, je crois, ne sut pas 
 S'il allait faire un ange ou bien un mortel. 
 
 Never did Adeline appear to Monckton more 
 lovely than at this moment. There was no act, how- 
 ever base, which he would not have committed to 
 ingratiate himself with her. But Adeline was no 
 ordinary character. Enthusiasm was her predomi- 
 nant trait ; no obstacle was too great for her to sur- 
 mount ; if she had once fixed her mind upon the 
 attainment of any particular object, and if that object 
 had any relation with the affections of her heart, she 
 would, like another Helen, have fired another Troy 
 rather than see herself defeated. The affection which 
 she had hitherto pretended to feel for the many 
 suitors who had fluttered around her, was nothing 
 more than an innate and an uncontroulable propensity 
 to coquetry. It was her pride and boast to see them 
 in her train, to see and know herself the object of 
 the envy of those, to whom nature having denied 
 the possession of personal beauty, hated her for the 
 superabundance which had been so lavishly bestowed
 
 268 FITZALLAN. 
 
 upon herself. She was, however, now doomed to know 
 what real love is — love in its most extended, compre- 
 hensive meaning — when it absorbs every feeling of 
 the heart, and nothing is cherished but what has 
 some relation with the beloved object. She was also 
 destined to know some of the most poignant tor- 
 ments of love. The idol of her heart was Fitzallan ; 
 but then she had every reason to believe that he 
 loved another ; there was madness in the thought. 
 What method then was to be devised to destroy that 
 love ? What stratagems were to be put in force by 
 which the lovers might be estranged from each other, 
 and yet to make it not appear that it was the effect 
 of any premeditated design. Thene were the thoughts 
 on which she dwelt in the silence of the midnight 
 hour, when the form of Fitzallan, like some blessed 
 vision, was hovering before her inflamed imagination ; 
 they were the first which assailed her in the morning, 
 and they were then followed by resolutions which 
 were to be carried into practice during the day, and 
 the intent of which was to draw Fitzallan gradually 
 within the sphere of her influence, which, as no hu- 
 man heart had yet been able to withstand, she doubted 
 not, in the present instance, would prove equally 
 powerful and victorious. In the accomplishment of 
 these plans, however, an accomplice was necessary, 
 one of a servile, slavish cast, who would not, before 
 he was called upon to act, question the propriety or 
 the morality of the deed, but who, according to the 
 instructions given him, would rush headlong into it, 
 although he might himself thereby fall into an abyss 
 from which he could not afterwards extricate himself.
 
 FITZALLAN. 269 
 
 She was no strang-er to the character of Monckton ; 
 his frequent attempts to injure Fitzullan in her good 
 opinion with the view of exalting himself had in- 
 stilled into her heart a hatred of him, which she had 
 a difficulty to conceal, and which nothing but the 
 extraordinary command which she possessed over 
 herself could prevent her at times from exhibiting-. 
 To bring this man under her complete dominion she 
 saw herself obliged to use that familiarity and 
 sociability which are so often interpreted into a 
 degree of personal attachment ; and it was at once 
 evident to her that to make him completely her 
 dupe, she should be obliged to allow him the indul- 
 gence of the flattering belief that he had made an 
 impression upon her heart, and that of all her suitors 
 he was the most favoured. When, therefore, Monck- 
 ton entered the breakfast-room, she received him 
 with the greatest affability, and expressed herself 
 highly pleased with his early visit. With great 
 exaggerations and many severe reflections and as- 
 persions on the character of Fitzallan, Monckton 
 related the events of the preceding night. Although 
 the beatings of Adeline's heart might have been 
 almost heard, occasioned by the excess of her feelings 
 at the discovery of this new amour on the part of 
 Fitzallan, and attended too with such circumstances 
 as might estrange him from his accustomed society 
 altogether, yet she maintained such a complete con- 
 trol over herself, that Monckton secretly congratu- 
 lated himself with the idea that he had so far de- 
 graded Fitzallan in the good opinion of Adeline, 
 that she would scarcely consider him in future on
 
 270 FITZALLAN. 
 
 her part, as worthy of the slightest attention. Ade- 
 line had, however, in her own mind, fixed upon her 
 mode of action ; for she determined that very day to 
 extend her walk as far as the cottage to which Fitz- 
 allan had taken the lady, and there arrive at once at 
 the truth of the actual relation in which they stood 
 towards each other. There was, however, one subject 
 which had secretly engrossed the attention of Ade- 
 line ; and from the success of which she expected ta 
 make considerable progress in her conquest of Fitz- 
 allan. She therefore purposely introduced the sub- 
 ject of the General's masquerade ; and, with the 
 sole view, as she declared it, of exciting some plea- 
 sant confusion, she informed Monckton that she had 
 devised a plan, which he must assist her in carrying 
 into execution. 
 
 " You ascertained," she said, " that Fitzallan is to 
 appear as a Carmelite monk, and Lady Amelia as a 
 Franciscan nun. Now, I know the Earl, her father, 
 to be a weak and credulous man, and therefore we 
 will despatch a letter immediately to him, cautioning 
 him not to allow his daughter to appear in that cha- 
 racter. Then I will myself assume the character of 
 the nun, and Fitzallan will be thereby so completely- 
 duped, that whilst he thinks he is whispering his 
 fooleries to liady Amelia, I shall become the depo- 
 sitory of all the secrets of their intrigue." 
 
 "Excellent!" exclaimed Monckton; "and how 
 foolish Fitzallan will look when you unmask, and 
 he discovers that his dear nun is no other person 
 than Adeline Gordon." 
 
 " To carry on the imposition still further," said
 
 FITZALLAN. 271 
 
 Adeline, " I intend that you shall appear in the 
 character of a Carmelite monk, and I will contrive in 
 the interim to ascertain the character which Lady 
 Amelia has chosen ; and then, as she will mistake 
 you for Fitzallan, you will soon be able to discover 
 the strength of her affection for him. Now, then, 
 we will despatch the letter to the Earl without further 
 loss of time." 
 
 Monckton seated himself at the writing-table, and 
 penned the letter according to Adeline's dictation ; 
 the effect of which has been already described, and 
 as far as human foresight could extend, her plans 
 were likely to be crowned with success. 
 
 " Now," said Adeline, " lose no time in preparing 
 your new dress ; the time is short, and in this remote 
 part of the country we have no opportunities of 
 hiring dresses as in London. Apropos, you will be 
 at Mrs. Thurston's rout to-morrow evening?" 
 
 " Certainly," replied Monckton. " I know Lady 
 Amelia and Fitzallan are both to be there." 
 
 *' A better opportunity cannot be afforded us," 
 said Adeline, " of questioning Lady Amelia about 
 her dress. Au revoir, I must repair to my toilette ; 
 for I assure you, Monckton,'* tendering her hand to 
 him with that winning familiarity which penetrates 
 so powerfully to the heart of man, " there are very 
 few beside yourself, whom I would have admitted into 
 my company in my present dishabille." 
 
 " The morning is fine," said Monckton, " and I 
 will set forth on a voyage of discovery. I will try 
 and obtain a glimpse of the little dove that Fitzallan 
 has got encaged in the cottage.'*
 
 272 FITZALLAN. 
 
 " Defer your visit to that quarter until to-morrow," 
 said Adeline, " and I will perhaps accompany you ; 
 the chances are in my favour that I should make 
 more important discoveries than ever you can effect. 
 Now farewell." 
 
 Adeline rose, and Monckton took his departure. 
 
 *' Despicable creature," said Adeline, as Monckton 
 closed the door, " to puff thyself up with the belief 
 that a love like mine could be bestowed upon a wretch 
 like thou ! Who would give away a crown to a beg- 
 gar, a pearl to the wallowing beast? Mine is not 
 tjie love of common natures — a mere grovelling pas- 
 sion, a transitory emotion, which boasts of no affinity 
 to aught that is ennobling to the heart, or which 
 could operate as an impulse to one great or glorious 
 deed. Yet, it may be a love which the world, in its 
 narrow-minded estimate of things, would visit with 
 its condemnation. Be it so ; I glory in it. I know 
 that it is a love which heaven would approve ^ and 
 can that, of which God approves, partake of guilt ? 
 What are to me the prejudices of the world, or the 
 stale and fusty maxims of a cold, calculating prudence, 
 which squares its actions according to a set of formal 
 rules, which may be adapted for vulgar souls, but 
 which the great and noble mind contemns. What 
 are to me the chilling dictates of a forced morality, to 
 which human beings in their apathy or their stu- 
 pidity pretend obedience, but which the voice of 
 nature commands them to infringe. Let me suppose 
 two hearts called upon by nature, and that indefin- 
 able power which pervades all animated life, to love 
 each other, and that they cling to each other with all
 
 FITZALLAN. 273 
 
 vhe truth and power of those sacred feeh'ngs, and the 
 prejudices of the world were to step in, and with their 
 condemnatory voice rend asunder a love like that ; 
 the option is mine to follow the prejudices of the 
 world, or to taste the bliss of life in the enjoyment of 
 my love. Would I not kneel at the shrine of the 
 latter ; and, pressing the idolized being to my heart, 
 call upon my God to tell me if I err ? I know not of 
 two nobler beings upon earth than two lovers, who 
 have been possessed of the courage to break through 
 every form and ceremony which could lead to their 
 separation, who could renounce a world in which 
 the inhabitants of it are obliged to conform to 
 a mode of conduct at variance with the first and 
 noblest principles of their nature, and in the loneli- 
 ness of some deep solitude be to each other what the 
 whole world was to them before. Fitzallan and I 
 in some deep sequestered spot, — the sun the witness 
 of our love by day, the stars by night, — we should hear 
 the roar of the contentions of the world at a distance ; 
 we would smile with contempt at their impotency, 
 and pity those who, struggling in the fetters of pre- 
 judice, are ignorant in what the real bliss of life con- 
 sists." 
 
 Thus communing with herself, Adeline found her- 
 self equipped for her morning expedition, and in a 
 very short time she was on the road to the cottage. 
 She had purposely desired Monckton to defer his 
 visit, as she well knew that in his presence she should 
 not be so well able to probe to the bottom the mys- 
 tery of Fitzallan's amour; for any act that partook 
 of curiosity or premeditated connivance might instil 
 
 VOL. f T
 
 274 FITZALLAN. 
 
 an alarm into the minds of the inmates of the cot- 
 tage, and thereby at once defeat the purport of her 
 visit. 
 
 Adeline was now within sight of the cottage, when 
 on a sudden she espied a person bending his steps 
 towards it at a hurried pace, and whom, on a closer 
 inspection, she discovered to be Fitzallan himself. He 
 had a small basket in his hand, and under one of his 
 arms a bundle, apparently containing apparel. This 
 circumstance was confirmatory of the report of Monck- 
 ton, inasmuch as it proved that Fitzallan was deeply 
 interested in the affairs of the inmates of the cottage , 
 but considering that it might frustrate all her plans, 
 if she were to be detected by Fitzallan, she concealed 
 herself in an adjoining copse until Fitzallan had 
 taken his departure. His stay at the cottage was but 
 for a few minutes, and having shaken an elderly 
 female cordially by the hand, he retraced his steps 
 towards the town. Secure from any further detec- 
 tion on the part of Fitzallan, Adeline emerged from 
 her hiding place, and on her arrival at the cottage, 
 the same female from whom Fitzallan had parted a 
 few minutes before was still in the fore-garden, em- 
 ployed picking some flowers ; the whole of the pre- 
 mises exhibiting an extraordinary scene of care and 
 neatness. Pleading fatigue, Adeline requested per- 
 mission to rest awhile, and her appearance indicating 
 gentility and fashion, operated not a httle to obtain 
 an immediate acquiescence in her request. On en- 
 tering, she was shown into a neatly furnished apart- 
 ment, but in which not a single object presented 
 itself, which by association could give her the oppor-
 
 FITZALLAN. 275 
 
 tunity of entering upon the subject of her visit. 
 " You lead rather a lonely life here, madam," said 
 Adeline. 
 
 *' To me it is by no means lonely," answered the 
 matron ; " I have little to do with the world, and the 
 world still less with me. I have mixed ere now in 
 the busy scenes of life, but experience has taught me 
 their frivolity and emptiness. I now enjoy more real 
 satisfaction in the cultivation of my garden, and in 
 the performance of my domestic duties, than I ever 
 found in those scenes, which are falsely denominated 
 those of pleasure and gaiety." 
 
 *' I hope you are not so much the cynic," said 
 Adeline, " as to deny that pleasure is natural to 
 youth ; and I admit that it is the privilege of age to 
 be clamorous against it, because it can no longer en- 
 joy it. You thought not pleasure always to be merft 
 frivolity." 
 
 " It would be ridiculous in me to say so," said the 
 matron, " but the pursuits by which pleasure is ob- 
 tained are as different as the dispositions of mankind ; 
 each seeks for it according to his own taste and pre- 
 judices, and th^t which may be pleasure to me, may 
 be an object of aversion to another." 
 
 " Then I suppose," said Adeline, " that your plea- 
 sure at present consists in living here by yourself 
 alone?" 
 
 " I consider," said the matron, " that that indivi- 
 dual only can be said to be alone, who has no re- 
 sources within herself With me each hour and day 
 bring with them their accustomed duties, and in the 
 T 2
 
 276 FITZALLAN, 
 
 performance of them I find a re^lar and pleasing 
 occupation, and an antidote to all ennui." 
 
 This was not exactly the kind of answer that Ade- 
 line wished to obtain from her, and in fact she could 
 easily perceive that there was an embarrassment in 
 the behaviour of the matron, which, perhaps, on ordi- 
 nary occasions would not have excited any notice ; 
 but with the knowledge that there was something in 
 the house which the matron had an interest in con- 
 cealing, every word and gesture were scrutinized with 
 an acuteness which, under any other circumstances, 
 would not have been called into action. 
 
 The matron had scarcely given her answer to Ade- 
 line's question, when the cry of an infant was heard 
 in the room above. 
 
 " I perceive you are not quite alone, madam," said 
 Adeline, who now hoped that she had touched the 
 key which would unlock the wished-for secret. 
 
 " No indeed, not at present," said the matron. 
 *' God help her, but she's a lovely creature, and she 
 seems in this world to have had her share of suffering.'* 
 
 "Of whom are you speaking?" asked Adeline, 
 whose ears were all on the alert to obtain the wished- 
 for intelligence. 
 
 " You know," said the matron, *' that we poor 
 doting affectionate women often commit those irregu- 
 larities, for which they who seduced us from the path 
 of virtue ought to be punished ; not we, who are the 
 seduced, but such is the illiberal practice of the 
 world ; the seducer struts away proud of his victory, 
 boasts of the triumph, and the world visits him not
 
 FITZALLAN. 277 
 
 either with its indignation or its scorn. '^ Differently, 
 however, is it constituted with the seduced. The poor 
 girl who has been betrayed by the treachery and vil- 
 lainy of him, who has sworn to love her, is banished 
 from society as some infectious being, with whom 
 it is contamination to hold any intercourse. She 
 looks around her in vain for an asylum in which she 
 can hide her infamy from the world ; it is refused 
 her : broken-hearted, dispirited, and racked with 
 despair, she becomes an outcast upon the world, and 
 the heart which once beat with nature's purest, fondest 
 affections, becomes at last so famihar with misery 
 and wretchedness, that every noble qualification which 
 once adorned it is annihilated, and the last sad 
 mournful spectacle is presented of an affectionate, 
 generous, amiable, and confiding nature reduced to 
 drag on the remainder of its life in ignominy and 
 wretchedness." 
 
 " The picture you have now drawn," said Adeline, 
 *' I confess, is unfortunately too common in the world 
 for me to dispute its existence, but I trust you have 
 never witnessed a practical illustration of it." 
 
 " Hush !" said the matron. " It becomes me not 
 to betray the confidence that is reposed in me, nor is 
 it my wish to pry further into the secrets of other 
 people than they seem willing to disclose. I con- 
 sider it to be rude, very rude, ma'am, to be always 
 prying, prying into the affairs of others, when the 
 knowledge of them will make you neither better, 
 wiser, nor richer." 
 
 *' I agree with you perfectly, ma'am," said Adeline, 
 " in those sentiments ; but in some cases our own
 
 278 FITZALLAN. 
 
 character is at stake, and then it becomes a duty on 
 our part closely to investigate all matters which have 
 any reference to the reputation of cur associates or 
 the inmates of our house. Thus, suppose, for in 
 stance, you were to admit a female into your house 
 under any peculiar circumstances which demanded 
 secresy, might not your character receive so deep a 
 w^ound as never after to recover from it?" 
 
 The matron stared with surprise, for she was now 
 convinced in her own mind that Adeline was in some 
 degree privy to her reception of an inmate in her 
 house under some peculiar circumstances, and there- 
 fore, she felt herself rather in a dilemma as to the 
 manner in which she was to act. Adeline was a 
 woman too perfect in all the stratagems of her sex, 
 not to know, that the surest way to attain to the 
 knowledge of a secret, is to pretend that you already 
 know it. Self-possession, so necessary in cases of 
 this kind, was one of Adeline's most decided charac- 
 teristics, and, with the aid of a little finesse, she so far 
 succeeded, that the matron was thrown completely off 
 her guard, and she began to be as communicative as 
 if she had had a real confidant before her. " Certainly, 
 certainly," she replied to Adeline's last remark, 
 although not without some slight degree of confusion ; 
 " but you must allow that every thing depends upon 
 circumstances ; you will agree with me that it is very 
 difficult to determine the degree of rectitude which 
 belongs to an action ; for that which under some cir- 
 cumstances would be highly reprehensible, may 
 under others, be not only praiseworthy, but actually 
 consistent with cur duties as a Christian. It is by no
 
 FITZALLAN. 279 
 
 means unlikely that I might be blamed by the world 
 for an action which I committed last night ; but I 
 know the motive which actuated me, and I knov/ also 
 that I was prompted to the performance of it by a 
 feeling of humanity and kindness." 
 
 " It might be deemed presumptuous in me," said 
 Adehne, " to inquire into the nature of an action, 
 which the world would condemn, and yet at the same 
 time, that its motive could originate in the most 
 amiable feelings of our nature." 
 
 *' Few are the visitors," said the matron, " who fre- 
 quent my cottage, but amongst them is a young man, 
 who has been accustomed to extend his walks hither, 
 and who has excited my good will by his unassuming 
 manners, and the general knowledge which he dis- 
 plays. I much fear, however, that in an unguarded 
 moment he has been the means of destroying the 
 future happiness of a lovely girl ; for last night I was 
 roused most unexpectedly from my sleep by the 
 stoppage of a carriage at my door, and the yomig 
 man of whom I have been speaking presented him- 
 self in a most flurried and agitated manner, beseech- 
 ing me, under circumstances of the most urgent 
 nature, to take under my protection an unfortunate 
 lady, but for whose virtue and innate sense of good- 
 ness he would vouch, notwithstanding the very 
 questionable situation in which she appeared." 
 
 *' Is the young man a native of the neighbouring 
 town ?" asked Adeline. 
 
 " That is a question which I cannot answer," said 
 the matron, " but I attained to the knowledge of his 
 name by a book of which he made me a present, and
 
 280 FITZALLAX. 
 
 in which he inscribed it with his own hand ; this is 
 the book," taking one from the bookshelf; and Ade- 
 line on opening it, read " To Mrs. Gainsford, from 
 Hector Fitzallan." 
 
 " I have heard his name often mentioned," said 
 Adeline, " and always with respect." 
 
 " I mean not," said the matron, " to condemn him 
 for the act of which we are now conversing, for I 
 must necessarily be ignorant of the peculiar circum- 
 stances of the case ; it may after all be a mere act of 
 humanity on his part, and I am the more disposed to 
 attribute it to that motive, as he declared to me that 
 he would see her injuries redressed. The removal of 
 the poor girl must, however, have been effected under 
 most extraordinary circumstances, for her perturba- 
 tion on her arrival was so great as to cause the imme- 
 diate birth of her child." 
 
 Adeline now perceived that she had gained from 
 the matron all the information of which she was in 
 search. She had obtained a sufficiency to ruin Fitz- 
 allan for ever in the estimation of Lady Amelia For- 
 tescue, although in her own mind she was convinced, 
 that the character of Fitzallan would come out from 
 the investigation as pure as the metal from the cru- 
 cible. The great question, however, which now arose 
 in her mind, was the manner in which the informa- 
 tion was to be conveyed to Lady Amelia, and on 
 this head she determined to devise some plan 
 with Monckton, by which it could be carried into 
 immediate effect. Having apologized to Mrs. 
 Gainsford for the long intrusion on her time, and 
 paying her some very flattering compliments for the
 
 PITZ ALLAN. 281 
 
 humanity of her conduct, Adelhie took her de- 
 parture. 
 
 To the generous and philanthropic heart, there is 
 no act more pleasing than that of effecting a reconci- 
 hation between an offended parent and an erring 
 child ; and it was a task which Fitzallan now took 
 upon himself. The information, perhaps, is not ne- 
 cessary, for it has doubtless been previously conjec- 
 tured, that the unfortunate female, who had been 
 saved on the preceding night by the humanity of 
 Fitzallan, was no other person than Maria, the 
 lovely daughter of Arnfeld ; and noble and disinter- 
 ested as was the action, it threatened, by the deep 
 machinations of Monckton, and the artful intriguing 
 spirit of Adeline Gordon to be the precursor of the 
 ruin of his future happiness. 
 
 Pitiable is the condition of a credulous doting girl, 
 who, seduced by the arts and villainy of one, who at 
 her feet, or whilst resting his head on her bosom, 
 may have breathed the protestations of his everlasting 
 love, and who afterwards having given to him the 
 brightest jewel in her dowry, sees herself forsaken 
 and cast upon the world to bear the full load of its 
 obloquy and contempt ; but doubly is she to be com- 
 passionated, when she sees that by her weakness she 
 has reduced an affectionate parent to a state of dis- 
 traction, and at the same time that she is obliged 
 continually to endure his taunts and reproaches, and 
 his deep and unmerciful accusations. It was in one 
 of the paroxysms of his distraction, that Arnfeld 
 had proceeded to such personal violence against his 
 daughter, that she, considering her life to be in mo-
 
 282 FITZALLAN. 
 
 mentary danger, hastily rushed out of the house, after 
 feigning some excuse for leaving the room, and, 
 scarcely conscious of her actions, hurried along the 
 streets, when, to her great good fortune, she was met 
 by Fitzallan, who, conducting her to his lodgings, 
 afforded her every relief which his humanity and 
 generosity could procure, and who hesitated not to 
 obtain for her an asylum in the house of Mrs. 
 Gainsford. 
 
 In the mean time Arnfeld sat in the deep gloom 
 of his distracted spirit ; his head resting on his hand, 
 and his vacant stare directed to the few embers which 
 still glimmered in the grate, but which to his dis- 
 eased mind presented to him the type of his own life 
 — the next moment, perhaps, to be deprived of all 
 warmth and spirit, and to be extinguished for ever. 
 
 As soon as the tumult of his passions had in some 
 degree subsided, and reason had partially resumed its 
 power, so as to enable him, with some degree of self- 
 collection, to examine the mode of conduct which he 
 was pursuing, he called upon his daughter to prepare 
 for him his usual repast before retiring to bed ; but 
 to his frequent calls, no answer was returned. " She 
 is asleep," he said. "Well ! I will not awaken her ; it is 
 a temporary respite from misery — it is the last solace 
 of the wretched ; then what must I be who know it 
 not ? the sleep that comes over me is not one of rest 
 — nor of forgetful ness. I continually see before me 
 some damned fiend, laughing hellishly over my child. 
 I see her writhing beneath his grasp — with a demon's 
 fury I rush forth to save her — I awake, and a drear 
 and dread reality stands before me. I try to penetrate
 
 FITZALLAN. 283 
 
 the darkness that is around me, straining my vision, 
 thinking' that all may be a dream, and that I am in 
 the presence of the accursed destroyer of my child, 
 and I — I her only avenger. Another night is almost 
 past, and the dawn of another day will soon break 
 upon me ; but in that day what deed may not be 
 done ! what eyes may not be closed in death I Oh 
 God ! that I had never been a father, or, being such, 
 that I had felt no love, no fondness, no affection for 
 my offspring; or that I had left it to be reared 
 by stranger hands, heedless and careless of its future 
 fate. Hark ! what noise is that? it sounded like the 
 moan of some departing spirit ; or perhaps it was a 
 groan issuing from the perturbed bosom of my 
 child. But I'll be merciful to her even in my rage ; 
 in the deep indignation of my bitter resentment will I 
 in her sleep be compassionate to her. But as to 
 myself, I will hold no communion with sleep till I 
 am avenged. With the first beam of liffht will I 
 sally forth ; I'll hunt the monster from haunt to 
 haunt; the portals of hell are already open to re- 
 ceive him, and I will be the avenging spirit that 
 shall sweep him from the earth, and send him to his 
 account with all his crimes unrepented of" 
 
 The human passions are like the elements, the 
 greater the violence, the shorter the duration. The 
 rage of man in the extreme is like the hurricane, 
 which threatens in its fury ruin and devastation to 
 every object within its influence ; but gradually it 
 subsides ; and, as if exhausted with the exertion, the 
 elemental strife becomes hushed, and tranquillity 
 rests upon the land. So stood it with Arnfeld ;
 
 284 FITZALLAN. 
 
 weary and exhausted, his nature, as it were, deprived 
 of all further exertion, he sank into that gloomy, 
 cheerless, and fictitious state of repose, which neither 
 recruits the animal powers, nor eases the perturba- 
 tions of the mind. 
 
 With the earliest sound of motion in the streets, 
 Arnfeld suddenly roused himself, and his first steps 
 were directed to the bed-chamber of his daughter ; but 
 she was not there ; and, by the appearance of the bed, 
 it was evident that she had not been the tenant of it 
 during the night. He stood for a moment aghast, 
 and such a confusion of ideas rushed over his mind, 
 that his powers of action became paralysed, and he 
 stood as if some supernatural power had transfixed 
 him to the ground. Slowly he recovered his self- 
 possession, and throughout every part of the house 
 he searched for his daughter, calling her by her name, 
 but no answer was returned. *' It is all too true," 
 he exclaimed, " and I have then perhaps been her 
 murderer also ; but I'll search her through the 
 world, and if she be dead, one grave shall hold us. 
 Parewell," he 'said, as he threw his plaided cloak 
 around him ; " farewell ! once thou home of my 
 happiness ; the sound of mirth will never again be 
 heard within thy walls, and the stranger may come 
 and find my chambers desolate, and I, their last 
 tenant, a murderer." He rushed out of the house, 
 and directed his steps — he knew not whither. 
 
 Hour after hour he pervaded every part of the 
 town ; to all inquiries respecting his daughter the 
 most unsatisfactory answer was returned, and in some 
 instances with laughter and ridicule. Weary, at
 
 FITZALLAN. 285 
 
 length he asked permission of a tradesman, who was 
 a tailor, and with whom he was personally acquainted, 
 to rest himself for a few moments in his shop ; and 
 he was scarcely seated, when his attention was 
 strongly excited by the following conversation. 
 
 " This masquerade of the General's," said the 
 tailor, " has made the whole town alive ; milliners, 
 haberdashers, and tailors, up to their ears in business." 
 
 *' By the by, sir," said one of the workmen, " it 
 was about half an hour ago that Mr. Monckton 
 called to know when his dress would be completed." 
 
 At the name of Monckton, Arnfeld started, and his 
 whole frame appeared to quiver with agitation. 
 
 " You informed him, I suppose,'" said the tailor, 
 " that it would be sent home this evening. I should 
 not have expected that he would have chosen such a 
 character." 
 
 " May I — I inquire," said Arnfeld, smothering 
 his feelings as much as possible, " may I venture to 
 inquire what that character is ?' 
 
 " It is that of a Carmelite monk, sir," answered the 
 tailor ; " the last character, I should think, that a 
 dissipated young man like him would have selected.'* 
 
 " A Carmelite monk !" muttered Arnfeld to him- 
 self: and a sudden thought appeared to flash upon 
 his mind, while over his countenance came a hectic 
 flush, as if some extraordinary passion were excited, 
 and which, from its intensity, he feared would over- 
 come him. 
 
 " I feel no more fatigue now," said Arnfeld ; and, 
 thanking the tradesman for the accommodation, he 
 hurried into the street. He no sooner found himself
 
 286 FITZALLAN. 
 
 at liberty, then he burst into a loud hysterical 
 launch, " Ha ! ha ! ha ! Now thou villain I have thee ; 
 now, in the midst of thy mirth, shalt thou feel the 
 strength of my avenging arm. I'll watch thee till I see 
 thee dallying with some favoured beauty, whispering 
 in her ear thy poisonous tale of love ; and if I see 
 thee pollute her lips with a kiss, then in that moment 
 will I strike the blow, and send thee from thy earthly 
 bliss to thy hellish torments. Where is there now a 
 happier being on earth than I, Alfred Arnfeld ? 
 my last, my dearest wish is on the eve of being 
 realized. Thanks be for ever to that destiny, which 
 guided me to the spot where the welcome informa- 
 tion was received. I now feel as if a new life were 
 infused into me ; my whole frame has regained its 
 wonted vigour. I feel as if a giant's strength nerved 
 my arm ; and that were a world to come against me, 
 I should hold it but as baby's play, and in my despe- 
 ration, sacrifice all human life as a thing not worthy 
 of a thought." 
 
 It was in this dangerous and deceptious mood, 
 that, in turning an angle of the street, Arnfeld came 
 suddenly upon Fitzallan : to the latter the meeting 
 was the consummation of his wishes ; and although 
 Arnfeld had never heard a single whisper derogatory 
 to the character of Fitzallan, yet, knowing him to be 
 one of the associates of Monckton, he appeared as if 
 he were particularly desirous to avoid him ; but Fitz- 
 allan would not be repulsed, and he accosted Arnfeld 
 with such a degree of respectful consideration, that 
 he was induced to return the congratulation ; and 
 in as brief a manner as possible, and with the ut-
 
 FITZALLAN. 287 
 
 most delicacy to his feelings, Fitzallan disclosed to 
 him his nocturnal adventure with his daughter, and 
 the place of abode to which he had conducted her. 
 The father's feelings burst forth at once ; he grasped 
 the hand of Fitzallan ; and, whilst a tear dropped 
 from his eyes, called him his benefactor, his pre- 
 server. Arnfeld determined at once to hasten to his 
 daughter, and to bring her back to her parental 
 home. Fitzallan, however, had not thought it pru- 
 dent to make known to the afflicted father the cir- 
 cumstance of his daughter having given birth to a 
 child, as it was a piece of information that he wished 
 to impart to him by degrees, with the view of not 
 arousing the exasperation of his passions too much, 
 and which ultimately might close every avenue to the 
 projected reconciliation. It was therefore finally 
 agreed that Fitzallan should return to the cottage, and 
 prepare Maria for the visit of her father, and in the 
 mean time he determined by degrees to make known 
 to Arnfeld the real situation of his daughter; which, 
 as it was an event that must have been daily expected, 
 by Arnfeld, he flattered himself that the disclosure 
 might not be attended with any decisive injury to 
 the future establishment of Maria in the future affec- 
 tions of her father. Little, however, did Fitzallan 
 suspect that the calm which appeared to accompany 
 the actions of Arnfeld was all hollow and deceptions ; 
 there was in fact a storm raging within, which, like the 
 dormant fire in Etna's womb, was soon to break forth, 
 carrying devastation and ruin to every object within 
 its reach, and against which not all the coolness, pru- 
 dence, nor presence of mind of Fitzallan would
 
 288 FITZALLAN. 
 
 enable him to contend ; nor could he suspect, in the 
 slightest degree, that every step which he took in the 
 affair of Arnfeld, was to be seized upon as the in- 
 strument of alienating from him the affections of his 
 beloved Ameha. 
 
 :f
 
 FTTZALLAN. 28^ 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The older we grow, the greater is our conviction, that his 
 gacred majesty, Chance, governs three-fourths of this miserable 
 world, and that those who fancy themselves to be the wisest, are 
 the greatest fools of that species who walk on two legs without 
 feathers, and to which we have the honour to belong. 
 
 Frederick, King of Prussia. 
 
 The company were assembled at Mrs. Tliurston's,. 
 and whilst the dowagers amused themselves with 
 scandal and quadrille, the younger part of the assem- 
 blage were whispering soft nonsense in each other's 
 ears, and playing off the amiable and the agreeable, 
 with the hope of establishing themselves in the good 
 graces of their chosen favourite. In one recess of 
 the drawing-room sat Adeline Gordon and Monck- 
 ton playing at piquet, and close to them sat Lady 
 Amelia Fortescue and Sir Henry Montfort, the 
 subject of their discourse, most probably, their ap- 
 proaching nuptials. The eye of Lady Amelia had 
 for some reason or another been constantly directed 
 to the entrance-door, in the hope that one individual 
 would make his appearance ; but one hour after 
 another had elap.sed, and still he came not. On a 
 sudden her attention was intensely directed to the 
 following conversation, which took place between 
 VOL. I. u
 
 290 riTZALLAN, 
 
 Adeline Gordon and Monckton, and every word of 
 which was so spoken that it could be heard both by 
 Lady Amelia and her companion. 
 
 " How comes it," asked Adeline, " that Fitzallan 
 is not here to-night ?" 
 
 " I make no doubt," said Monckton, " that he has 
 an engagement of a more pleasant nature on hand.-;— • 
 My point is forty-four." 
 
 " Not good," said Adeline. " I congratulated 
 myself with the pleasure of meeting him here to- 
 night, as I intended to banter him on a little discovery 
 which I made this morning." 
 
 " Some sly amour, I'll warrant for it," said Monck- 
 ton ; " these modest, demure-looking fellows are 
 always the greatest rakes at heart. — Are three queens- 
 good ?" 
 
 " No," answered Adeline, " I have three aces. 
 To-morrow, if you will accompany me, I will conduct 
 you to a snug pleasant little cottage, which our im- 
 maculate Fitzallan has selected as the abode of his 
 beloved ; a delightful snug retreat for a tender loving 
 couple to bill and coo in." 
 
 "Impossible!" exclaimed Monckton ; "rest assured 
 the whole will turnout to be some scandalous report. 
 —Is a quart major good ?" 
 
 " Very good," answered Adeline ; " but you will 
 allow that we may believe what we have seen with 
 our own eyes. I accidentally called at the cottage 
 this morning to rest myself during my mornings walk, 
 and the good lady of the house was very communi- 
 cative on the subject." 
 
 During this speech Adeline cast a look of triumpb-
 
 FITZALLAN. 291 
 
 ant malice towards Lady Amelia, but she could not 
 endure the penetrating glance, at the same time that 
 an ashy paleness was spread over her lovely counte- 
 nance, whilst she appeared wholly inattentive to the 
 questions which Sir Henry put to her. Adeline saw 
 that the arrows which she had shot had hit their 
 mark ; and, to increase the virulence of the wound, 
 she continued, addressing herself to Monckton, " By 
 the report which was given to me," said Adeline, 
 •' Fitzallan was nearly deferring her removal until 
 certain consequences would have happened in the 
 town, which could not have failed to have given full 
 publicity to the whole affair." 
 
 " You do not mean to insinuate," said Monckton, 
 " that the honour and character of Fitzallan are com- 
 promised in this business?'' 
 
 " It would be very illiberal in me," said Adeline, 
 " to condemn Fitzallan without a full and thorough 
 investigation of all the circumstances of the case ; 
 but I will go so far as to say, that appearances are 
 very much — very much against him indeed. In fact, 
 it is my opinion, that he must take his leave of this 
 town altogether, for I am certain he will not be 
 received into the circles in which he has hitherto 
 moved." 
 
 " Is not the cottage," asked Monckton, " situate 
 about the fourth mile-stone on the road to N ?" 
 
 " On the right hand side of the road," answered 
 Adeline ; " and the name of the tenant of it is Gains- 
 ford. She showed me a book which Fitzallan had 
 given her, for I saw his name written in it." 
 
 " I am therefore," said Monckton, " not in the 
 v2
 
 292 riTZALLAN. 
 
 least surprised at his absence here to-night ; but in 
 the course of to-morrow I'll see if I cannot obtain a 
 view of this turtle dove, for which he has selected so 
 snug a nest." 
 
 " And let me know the result of your visit," said 
 Adeline, " and then he shall be so quizzed that he 
 shall wish himself at the north pole." 
 
 Fainter and fainter grew the bloom on Lady 
 Amelia's cheeks ; her lips lost their redness ; her 
 bosom appeared to be agitated with feelings of the 
 most painful nature. She attempted to rise, but 
 falling back in her chair, fainted away. 
 
 The alarm of Lady Amelia's sudden illness spread 
 throughout every quarter of the room, the most 
 powerful restoratives were applied, and she was car- 
 ried by her relatives into an adjoining room, where 
 soon a flood of tears bursting forth, gave some relief 
 to her agitated heart. 
 
 In the mean time Adeline and her dastardly com- 
 peer sat triumphing over their success. The poison 
 which they had instilled had worked beyond their 
 most sanguine expectations ; and, in anticipation, 
 Adeline saw the breach effected between Lady Amelia 
 and Fitzallan, which no after explanation on his part 
 could amend. The effect, however, which her slan- 
 derous insinuations had produced upon Lady Amelia, 
 gave her a full insight into the state of her Ladyship's 
 heart towards Fitzallan ; and being now convinced 
 that she really loved him, she determined to follow 
 up the course of conduct which she had pursued, and 
 thereby ultimately to estrange the lovers from each 
 other for ever.
 
 riTZ ALLAN. 293 
 
 The cause of Lady Amelia's indisposition now 
 became the general topic of conversation throughout 
 the whole assembly ; the antiquated dames looked 
 back into the days of their own youth, and tried to 
 recall to their recollection if any such circumstance 
 had ever happened to themselves, and then, by an 
 investigation of their own case they should be able to 
 pounce at once upon the real cause, which had pro- 
 duced the sudden indisposition of Lady Amelia. Basta 
 and ponto were for a while forgotten, and nothing: but 
 Lady Amelia engrossed the attention of the female 
 sexagenarians. It was the heat of the room, said 
 one ; it was the tightness of her stays, said another; 
 it was the attack of the cholera, said another ; it was 
 the presence of her intended husband, said another ; 
 it was the effect of indignation, said another ; it was 
 — the whole coterie broke up, and not one could tell 
 what it really was. 
 
 Adeline and Monckton, however, having conferred 
 together for some time, the latter was observed to 
 approach the spot where Sir Henry Montfort was 
 standing, and, taking him by the arm, they returned 
 to the same seats on which Lady Amelia and Sir 
 Henry had been sitting. 
 
 " You will pardon me, I hope," said Monckton, 
 ** my dear Sir Henry, and I am sure I need not solicit 
 the same indulgence for Miss Adeline Gordon, if we 
 have, by any inadvertency, been the means of Lady 
 Amelia Fortescue's illness." 
 
 " I cannot discover." said Sir Henry, " in what 
 manner you could have caused, in the most remote 
 degree, the illness of her Ladyship. I am certain
 
 294 FITZ ALLAN, 
 
 that I cannot recollect any thing; in the conduct or 
 conversation of either Miss Gordon or yourself that 
 could in any way affect Lady Amelia, and conse- 
 quently that any apology on your part is necessary ; 
 independently of which, I can answer for myself as a 
 gentleman, and also for Lady Amelia, that the sub- 
 ject of your conversation was in a certain degree 
 unknown to both of us." 
 
 " May I be allowed to differ with you on that 
 point," said Monckton ; " I have reason to believe 
 that the individual of whom we were speaking has 
 had the presumption to aspire to the affections of 
 Lady Amelia ; and if I may judge by what my own 
 eyes have witnessed, he has not been altogether un- 
 successful." 
 
 " Sir," said Sir Henry, in rather a peremptory 
 tone, "you know the relation in which I stand with 
 Lady Amelia; I have therefore to desire that you 
 dismiss all further insinuation and inuendo from 
 your conversation, and proceed to the facts them- 
 selves. Have you any thing to say against the virtue 
 or character of Lady Amelia ?" 
 
 " God forbid !" exclaimed Monckton, " and I am 
 excessively hurt that you should put such a construc- 
 tion upon any of my words ; her character is, like 
 Caesar's wife, far above any suspicion ; and I assure 
 you I never attributed the circum. stance to any col- 
 lusion or premeditated design on their part ; but I 
 considered it as one of those events of mere chance, 
 that I saw Lady Am.elia, Miss Manners, and Mr. 
 Fitzallan, sitting on the trunk of a tree in close and 
 confidential conversation with each other."
 
 FITZALLAN. 295 
 
 *' When, and where, Mr. Monckton," asked Sir 
 Henry, in a state of great excitement, " did that 
 happen ?" 
 
 Monckton here explained to Sir Henry the exact 
 place and time in which he had discovered the 
 ladies and Fitzallan ; and he concluded by saying, 
 " But do be composed, Sir Henry ; I have reason 
 to believe, from some subsequent inquiries that I 
 have made, that an attachment has arisen between 
 Miss Manners and Mr. Fitzallan ; and that, as that 
 lady is the intimate and confidential friend of Lady 
 Amelia, she has shown a very anxious disposition to 
 promote the views of the lovers." 
 
 " Then, Mr. Monckton," said Sir Henry, " how can 
 the attachment of Miss Manners and Mr. Fitzallan 
 have any reference to the sudden illness of Lady 
 Amelia ?" 
 
 *' In the most natural way in the world," answered 
 Monckton ; " and I certainly do take upon myself, 
 after . mature reflection, no little degree of blame in 
 having introduced the subject of our conversation, 
 when it was more than probable that it would be 
 overheard by Lady Amelia. But I am certain you 
 will acquit me, as well as Miss Gordon, of any wilful 
 intention to hurt the feelings of Lady Amelia." 
 
 " But," said Sir Henry, " you have not yet ex- 
 plained to me how the feelings of Lady Amelia 
 could be in any degree wounded by any act of Mr. 
 Fitzallan, who cannot but be wholly indifferent to 
 her." 
 
 " Do you suppose, Sir Kenry," said Monckton, 
 " that Lady Amelia can be wholly indifferent to the
 
 296 FITZALLAN. 
 
 situation in which her bosom friend would be thrown 
 by the discovery of such a criminal act of infidelity 
 on the part of her lover ? Must she not feel in the 
 acutest manner the destruction of the hopes of her 
 friend in the discovery that her professed lover was 
 carrying on an illicit amour with another? We con- 
 fess that it was inadvertent ; and 1 will go further, 
 and confess that we are open to censure, knowing, as 
 we naturally must do, the sincere affection Vvhich 
 subsists between Lady Amelia and Miss Manners, to 
 have so far forgotten what was due to the feelings ot 
 the former, as in her hearing to have touched upon 
 any subject, which, from the interest which she takes 
 in the happiness of her friend, must necessarily have 
 given her considerable pain, and which we fear was- 
 so overpowering to her feelings as to cause her ill- 
 ness. It is on this account. Sir Henry, that we have, 
 to apologize to you for the distress, which our thought- 
 less conversation has occasioned to Lady Amelia." 
 
 Sir Henry listened to this most artful explanation 
 on the part of Monckton with the utmost attention. 
 The Baronet was what is generally termed a good- 
 natured man, that is, his dominie had succeeded to 
 whip into him just such a sufficiency of knowledge 
 as to enable him so to guide himself, as not to break 
 his head against every post or pillar that he might 
 meet with in his way, and nature had just bestowed 
 upon him as much mother wit as to teach him to 
 make a proper distinction between a horse chestnut 
 and a chestnut horse ; but when he came in contact 
 with such deep designing heads as those of Monck- 
 ton or Adehne Gordon, he was certain of being made
 
 FITZALLAN. 297 
 
 the dupe ; and it appeared to him so very natural that 
 Miss Manners might be in love with Mr. Fitzallan, 
 and Mr. Fitzallan with Miss Manners, and it fur- 
 ther appeared to him so natural that the feelings of 
 Lady Amelia should be acutely wounded on the dis- 
 covery of such a gross act of infidelity on the part of 
 the lover of her friend, that he was disposed to believe 
 that the illness of her Ladyship did actually proceed 
 from the cause advanced by Monckton ; and he under- 
 took to say that he would be the bearer of this decla- 
 ration to Lady Amelia, of their extreme regret in 
 having so innocently and thoughtlessly been the 
 cause of disturbing the harmony of the company, and 
 particularly of her much lamented indisposition. 
 Monckton secretly congratulated himself for the 
 generalship which he had displayed in extricating 
 himself from the dilemma into which he was likely ta 
 be thrown by his unguarded and precipitate conduct, 
 but at the same time, he secretly rejoiced at the im- 
 pression which the relation of Fitzallan's supposed 
 infidehty had made upon Lady Amelia, for he could 
 not suppose, circumstanced as she was, that she 
 would be able to institute any inquiry into the 
 truth or falsity of the allegations against Fitzallan ; 
 he therefore considered that his plans had beeft 
 crowned with success, and he looked forward to the 
 precious reward which he was to receive from the lips 
 of Adeline Gordon. 
 
 Lady Amelia had no sooner reached her home,, 
 than, pleading extreme lassitude, she retired to her 
 bed-chamber, in which she no sooner found herself 
 alone, than she burst into tears ; the poisonous words
 
 298 FITZALLAN. 
 
 of Adeline Gordon still rang in her ears; she recalled 
 to her recollection the look of triumphant malice 
 which was cast upon her by Adeline, and she could 
 not but see that her sole aim and that of her compa- 
 nion were to humiliate her, and to expose her in the 
 presence of him, whom the world considered as her 
 destined husband. She felt her pride mortified, that 
 they had so completely succeeded in their aim ; and 
 more than all, her vexation was boundless, that, 
 having lost all control over her feelings, she had so 
 unequivocally exposed the state of her heart to two 
 individuals, from whom it would have been her most 
 anxious desire to keep it concealed, and who she well 
 knew would take every advantage of it to promote 
 their own unprincipled and dishonourable plans. 
 
 But then when she thought of Fitzallan, for whom 
 every pulsation of her heart beat with the purest 
 love, and for whom she was prepared to sacrifice 
 rank, title, riches, and all the advantages of her exalted 
 station, to share with him the comparative privations 
 of his plebeian state; when she now thought that he 
 in secret loved another, whilst his every word and 
 action declared an ardent attachment for herself; 
 when she thought that he was now lost to her, and 
 that she must henceforth eradicate his memory from 
 her heart, as of one who had only lived in it in ima- 
 gination ; then she wished that she could fly to some 
 deep solitude, where no human eye could see her 
 sorrows, where no human hand could administer 
 relief. But why arose that beam of sparkling light 
 on a sudden in her eye? why on a sudden came a 
 roseate tint on her cheek? why on a sudden was
 
 FITZALLAN. 299 
 
 calmed the wild emotion of her bosom? — It was the in- 
 spiration of hope, that bland and benignant spirit which 
 infuses such a sweet balsam into the bitter chalice of 
 human life ; it was one of her all-powerful, never-to- 
 be-forgotten whisperings, which, like a drop of rain 
 to the parched mouth of the wanderer of the desert, 
 breathe into the soul fresh life, and bounding spirits; 
 existence begins again ; a ray of light falls upon the 
 darkness of the future, and a grateful orison ascends 
 to heaven for the precious boon that it has bestowed. 
 Fitzallan might still be found innocent of the charge 
 imputed to him ; he might still be found to be good 
 and virtuous : this cheering thought made the beam 
 of sparkhng light arise in her eye, the roseate tint to 
 embellish her cheek, to give to her bosom its wonted 
 rest. But then, when she looked to this possible scene 
 of returning happiness, from another quarter arose a 
 dark and destructive tempest, threatening to over- 
 whelm " with one fell swoop," the entire edifice of 
 her sublunary bliss. In those dear and precious mo- 
 ments of life, when the heart yields itself up t^i the 
 vivid glowings of a fertile imagination. Lady Amelia 
 had painted to herself in all the enjoyment of youthful 
 enthusiasm, a rapturous future by the side of her 
 beloved Fitzallan. In a lonely sequestered spot she 
 built, in the exuberance of her fancy, a cottage for 
 herself and him, overgrown with the ivy and the 
 honeysuckle, and in the midst of a garden in which 
 their simple fare was to be cultivated by their own 
 hands. The serenest heaven smiled over this abode 
 of peace, and love with an everlasting bria-htness 
 seemed to hallow it. Nature spread before them the
 
 300 riTZALLAN. 
 
 richest of her creations, and happiness and calm con- 
 tent were the lot of the joyous inmates. It is the 
 property of youth to live in a world of its own forma- 
 tion, but then that very ideal world is apt to make us 
 discontented with the real one in which we are con- 
 strained to live. In the latter, events seldom happen 
 as we wish they should do, or as our hopes have led us 
 to expect. In it, no love blooms without its attendant 
 thorns ; no breath of evening passes over the flowers 
 an which some sighs are not intermingled. There 
 ■was a time when we were wont to believe that 
 memory poured its healing balsam only on that heart 
 which is wounded by the present — but experience has 
 taught us that we were in error. With those joys 
 that have been tasted, and which memory pictures to 
 us again, is associated the painful remembrance of 
 all that we have long lost, all that we have long 
 loved. Every tear that we have shed starts again 
 into the eye. Every sigh that agitated the breast 
 again intrudes itself to be the disturber of our pre- 
 sent happiness. Memory indeed throws a lenient 
 veil over the scenes of our sorrows, and of our de- 
 parted joys ; but it takes away only the first acute- 
 ness, not that slow consuming bitterness, which is 
 always the attendant upon real grief. But, never- 
 theless, in those blissful moments when we dream 
 ourselves into ideal worlds, we forget the sufferings 
 of the real one, and then every wish which is silent 
 in the turmoil of social life, becomes in retirement 
 active and efficient ; the mind then in em.otion feels 
 itself gifted with the power to accomplish its desires, 
 even though after all it be but — a dream.
 
 riTZALLAN. 301 
 
 The foregoing remarks are given as an apology 
 for those exuberances of a romantic fancy which 
 Lady Ameha may perhaps exhibit in the peopling of 
 her ideal worlds, and on the throne of which sat 
 always one chief and prominent figure, the sovereign 
 of her heart, the idol of her vows. But who can 
 describe those feelings of the heart when in the mo- 
 ment of the completion of the fairy edifice, from some 
 unexpected quarter comes forth the thunderbolt 
 winged with destruction, and like the frost-work of an 
 April morning, when touched by the beams of the 
 sun, it is dissolved into thin air, and no vestige left to 
 tell its former being ? 
 
 Lady Amelia was born in that sphere of life, 
 wherein the affections of the heart are seldom con- 
 sulted, but where nature points out with an authorita- 
 tive tone, that they, and they alone, should constitute 
 the basis of the choice. Family pride, fortune, and 
 convenience, had destined her to be the bride of Sir 
 Henry Montfort, and any other person but Sir Henry 
 would have blessed the gods that he was destined to 
 be the possessor of such an angel. But Sir Henry was 
 one of those cold, phlegmatic, calculating souls, who 
 act more by mechanical rules than by the influence 
 of the passions, and even in the affairs of love, that 
 is, if his cold and frigid heart was ever vivified by 
 its heavenly inspirations, he regulated his actions by 
 a formal system of rules v/hich he had laid down for 
 himself, and which had as much affinity with the 
 ardent effusions of a life-blood passion, as the great 
 orb of day has with an iceberg. It was in some 
 respects well for Lady Amelia, that these dispositions
 
 302 riTZALLAN. 
 
 were inherent in her destined husband, for had he 
 been one of those fiery ardent spirits, who knowing 
 that a treasure (and is not every lovely woman a 
 treasure ?) is within his grasp, rushes madly to the 
 goal to take possession of it, Lady Ameha would not 
 have been the heroine of this story, but she would 
 have been led as a victim to the altar, to be the bride, 
 perhaps, of a man she hated. In the course of the 
 conversation which Sir Henry had held with Lady 
 Amelia at Mrs. Thurston's rout, he informed her, that 
 he had on that morning had an inter\iew with her 
 father, respecting the day that was to be appointed 
 for their nuptials, expressing, at the same time, his 
 sincere desire to suit the convenience of all parties, 
 but that, as far as he was concerned, it was his wish 
 that the marriage should be consummated before the 
 shooting season began ; there are, no doubt, many 
 girls, who would have ventured to inquire of their 
 intended husband, what particular connexion could 
 subsist between their marriage and the shooting sea- 
 son; and it may be hinted, that if Lady Amelia had 
 put the question to Sir Henry, he would have found 
 some difficulty in answering it. However, it was in 
 perfect keeping with his character, and the answer 
 that Sir Henry received from the father of Lady 
 Amelia consisted in the brief remark, that as there 
 were only the wishes and convenience of two indivi- 
 duals to consult on so momentous a question ; namely, 
 those of the bride and the bridegroom, therefore, 
 that the latter had in fact nothing more to do than to 
 consult the former as to the appointed day, to which 
 all the subordinate parties would of course give their
 
 FITZALLAN. 303 
 
 consent. Armed with this explanation, Sir Henry 
 took the opportunity of his tete-d-tete with Lady 
 Amelia at Mrs. Thurston's rout, to enter upon the 
 subject, assuring her, by way of an exordium, or a 
 kind of elegant peroration to the subject, that he 
 had been long convinced of the truth of the axiom, 
 that if a thing is to be done, the sooner it is done the 
 better. Lady Amelia could not possibly dissent to 
 the truth of so self-evident a proposition ; but in 
 her own mind she entertained a great aversion from 
 the thing being done at all ; consequently, the longer 
 it was deferred, the more consonant would it be with 
 her own wishes and desires. There were also several 
 other very cogent reasons which Sir Henry advanced 
 in favour of the immediate consummation of the nup- 
 tials ; he considered the season of the year particu- 
 larly auspicious, it being the month of May, when 
 the pheasants and partridges would hatch, but Lady 
 Amelia wondered what the hatching of the pheasants 
 and partridges had to do with her marriage. The 
 state of the stocks was also a matter of serious import- 
 ance, inasmuch as a heavy loss might be occasioned 
 were the marriage not to be contracted about the 
 time when the dividends are paying, therefore, with- 
 out making any further mention of the shooting 
 season, no doubt whatever can exist, that the very 
 cogent and forcible reasons adduced by Sir Henry 
 for the speedy consummation of the nuptials, would, 
 if they had been addressed to any female whatsoever, 
 have at once determined her to fix the earliest pos- 
 sible day for the performance of the ceremony. On 
 a comparative view, therefore, of the question, it
 
 ^04 FITZALLAN. 
 
 remains a doubt whether Lady Amelia would not 
 have yielded to the force of Sir Henry's arguments, 
 had not her attention been so exclusively rivetted to 
 the slanderous misrepresentations of Adeline Gordon 
 and Monckton, as to drive Sir Henry and her mar- 
 riage with him entirely out of her head, and finally to 
 bring about that catastrophe, which obliged Sir Henry 
 to defer any further exposition of his arguments until 
 a more fitting opportunity. 
 
 In regard to Lady Amelia, however, the conversa- 
 tion which she had held with Sir Henry had afflicted 
 Jier heart with the most poignant feelings. She saw 
 the storm which was shortly to burst over her ; she 
 saw the abyss on the brink of which she was standing", 
 and from which it appeared to her that no human 
 power could relieve her. Sir Henry was a man 
 whom few women could really love ; and the woman 
 who could love him, must be one of those cold milk- 
 ^nd-water, secondary characters, whose love has as 
 -much fire and passion in it, as the love of a female 
 oyster for the male. At the period, however, when. 
 Lady Amelia, at the instigation of her father, had 
 •consented to become the bride of Sir Henry, the fire 
 -of heaven had not descended upon her ; her heart 
 had not been vivified by that power of the divinity 
 which gave life and motion to matter, and by which 
 the throne of God is itself upheld. But now all 
 things had to her assumed a ditferent aspect ; a new 
 world had opened itself upon her ; scenes of dazzling 
 brightness spread themselves around her ; the forms 
 of nature stood before her manifest in their beauty ; 
 fihe could now explain to herself the great cause from
 
 FITZALLAN. 305 
 
 which the happiness of created hfe originated; and 
 were all these bright prospects, these enchanting 
 scenes to be closed upon her for ever for this world ? 
 was she to renounce that happiness which she saw 
 diffused around her, merely to satisfy the empty 
 punctilios of family pride and rank V But how could 
 she recede? How retract the promise which she 
 had given, and which she was now called upon to fix 
 the day for its fulfilment ? The day that beheld that 
 fulfilment, beheld the death of her terrestrial happi- 
 ness ; but then, if the report were true, she had fixed 
 her affections upon an unworthy object ; upon one 
 who loved another; upon one who was clandestinely 
 engaged in an intrigue reflecting dishonour upon 
 himself, and shame upon the object of his illicit pas- 
 sion. Thus bewildered, perplexed, and lost in a 
 labyrinth, from which she could discover no clue to 
 extricate her, she dreaded to encounter the presence 
 of her father, fearing that he might urge her to fix 
 the day for her nuptials, and thereby bid a long, 
 a last farewell to all the scenes of her promised 
 happiness, and to the eternal renunciation of him, who 
 stood the foremost in those scenes, and without whom 
 every thing would appear a dull and heartless void. 
 
 VPL. I.
 
 306 FITZALLAN, 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 She looked back on her father's door, 
 
 Her eyes were dimmed with tears ; 
 It was the home whence she had turned 
 
 Away in other years. 
 She thought of him who lured her thence, 
 
 His promises unkept ; 
 And the neglected wanderer 
 
 Sank on the stone and wept. 
 
 Unconscious of the deep machinations which were 
 secretly employed to ruin him for ever in the good 
 opinion of Lady Amelia, Fitzallan pursued his course 
 of active humanity, rejoicing in the prospect which 
 lay before him of being the instrument of effecting a 
 reconciliation between Arnfeld and his daughter. He 
 had apprized the latter of the intended visit of her 
 parent, and the hour was now come when Fitzallan 
 was to call upon him to accompany him to the cot- 
 tage. To his great regret, however, he found Arnfeld 
 in a very different disposition of mind than at their 
 last parting ; the effect of the discovery that he had 
 gained a clue by which Monckton was to fall within 
 his power had subsided, and all the native impetuo-. 
 sity of his character again burst forth, spurning every" 
 species of control, and apparently bent on only one 
 object — the satisfaction of his revenge. Every argu-
 
 FITZALLAN. 307 
 
 ment that Fitzallan could adduce to persuade him to 
 alter his resolution was at first rejected as if it were 
 an insult to his wounded feelings, and a direct attack 
 upon his honour. " When the blood of the seducer 
 is spilt," said Arnfeld, " then I shall consider her, 
 as it were, in some degree so purified from her shame, 
 that I may take her to my arms again." 
 
 " May I ask you one question," said Fitzallan, 
 *' has Lord Dufresne, the father of her seducer, ever 
 been applied to, to oblige his son to make the proper 
 redress for his villainous conduct ?" 
 
 " It is with the son, and not with the father that I 
 have to do," said x\rnfeld, surlily. 
 
 " I have reason to believe," said Fitzallan, " that 
 Lord Dufresne, is a highly honourable man." 
 
 " Can he give my daughter back her virtue?" asked 
 Arnfeld, interrupting him. 
 
 " Certainly not," replied Fitzallan, " but he can 
 compel his son to act with that justice, which the case 
 so imperatively demands. Will you allow me to act 
 as the intercessor with him, and until his answer be 
 received, allow me to recommend to you not by .any 
 premeditated action to give further publicity to the 
 business." 
 
 " Go preach to the beasts of the forest," said Arn- 
 feld, " to forego their rage, when they find that the 
 hunters have robbed them of their young; tell them 
 to lick the hand that has shed their blood. Young 
 man, thou knowest not what feelings of the heart 
 those are, when a doting and affectionate fatlier sees 
 an only child, his sole stay and comfort in his declin- 
 ing years, a victim to another's lust. When he sees 
 x2
 
 308 FITZ ALLAN. 
 
 her prostrate at his feet suing for forgiveness for the 
 villain, who by his hellish arts has hurled her from a 
 state of comparative happiness to one of shame, mi- 
 sery, and disgrace. My Maria scarcely knew what 
 a tear was, until the damned serpent wound his 
 treacherous coils around her, and you would preach 
 to me of mercy, forbearance, and forgiveness !" 
 
 *' I call upon you for neither," said Fitzallan, 
 *' until the injury which you have sustained has been 
 redressed ; but add not to the already severe distress 
 in which your daughter is overwhelmed, by any act of 
 violence, which may make you subject to the laws of 
 your country." 
 
 " Did she think of me when she rushed into the 
 arms of her seducer ?" asked Arnfeld. " Why then 
 should I think of her ? why should I consult her 
 feelings, when she never consulted mine ?" 
 
 " It becomes not me, a stripling," said Fitzallan, 
 *' to dictate to age the mode of conduct it should pur- 
 sue ; but let me, I conjure you, be the bearer of the 
 consoling message to your daughter, that until the 
 answer be received from Lord Dufresne, you will 
 take up your residence in my house, where all your 
 comforts shall be attended to, and where, in the so- 
 ciety of a most revered and amiable friend, your 
 resentment may be gradually softened, and your lips 
 be brought at last to pronounce the blessed word of 
 forgiveness." 
 
 *' Young man," said Arnfeld, taking Fitzallan 
 by the hand, " your nature and dispositions appear 
 to be of a higher order than what falls to the lot of 
 the majority of youth. To contend against my fate^
 
 FITZALLAX. 309 
 
 is to fight a<^ainst a power to which I know I must 
 eventually succumb. I feel, as it were, dragged for- 
 wards by some invisible hand ; I see the wide yawn- 
 ing gulf open to receive me ; but onwards, onwards I 
 press, and not until my life be quenched in everlasting 
 night, shall my course be stayed. But go, young' 
 man ; be the bearer of this ring to my daughter ; it 
 was given to me by her now sainted mother on her 
 death-bed. Tell my daughter it is given to her on 
 mine ; and she — she my destroyer ; but tell her also 
 — tell her — her father will not die cursing her." 
 
 " And am I to depart," said Fitzallan, " without 
 one beam of consolation to shed over the deep gloom 
 of her misery?" 
 
 " Yes, tell her — tell her," said Arnfeld, in a tone 
 of voice slow and solemn, " tell her I am invited to 
 the masquerade at General Hamilton's, and on the 
 following day, or perhaps on that very night, I will 
 take her again into my arms. Now, go, go." 
 
 Fitzallan pondered on the last words of Arnfeld ; 
 there was a mystery in them which he could not 
 solve ; there was a dark meaning in them which he 
 dare not trust himself with the thought of, but that 
 they had some reference to some dreadful plan which, 
 he had in agitation, required no extraordinary acute- 
 ness to discover. He felt himself in a state of awful 
 difficulty ; and, from the peculiar delicacy of the case, 
 he knew not how far he was justified in interfering. 
 He determined, however, to consult Mr. Bode on 
 the question ; and, taking a friendly leave of Arn- 
 feld, he direoted his steps to the cottage of Mrs* 
 Gainsfbrd.
 
 310^ riTZALLAN. 
 
 One of the first acts which Lady Amelia performed 
 on leaving her bed-room in the morning after Mrs. 
 Thurston's rout was to send a message to her friend 
 Julia Manners, requesting her immediate presence, as 
 some circumstances had transpired, in the elucidation 
 of which her talents and ingenuity were to be em- 
 ployed. Julia hesitated not a moment to obey the 
 summons, and the two confidential fi-iends Vvcre no 
 sooner closeted, than Lady Amelia imparted to Julia 
 the whole of the slanderous narrative of Adeline and 
 Monckton, and Fitzallan found in Julia a warm and 
 determined advocate. Still, however, she could not 
 but confess that appearances were much against him, 
 for it could not be supposed that the whole of the 
 narrative had been fabricated for the mere purpose of 
 satisfying the malignant disposition of the inventors 
 of it. It was therefore determined, that under the 
 pretence of paying some visits in the town, they 
 should extend their walk to the cottage where the 
 object of Fitzallan's love was represented to reside, 
 and from their own personal observation arrive at 
 once at the truth or falsity of the allegations against 
 him. The two ladies were, fully equipped for their 
 trip of discovery, when, to their great mortification, 
 Sir Henry Montfort was announced. 
 
 Perhaps no visitor could have been more unwel- 
 come to Lady Amelia at this juncture than the 
 Baronet ; and to crown the disappointment, he was 
 one of those trifling, tiresome creatures, who having 
 no business whatever of their own to transact, think 
 themselves entitled to tease and annoy all those who 
 are otherwise circumstanced; and considering the
 
 FITZALLAN. 311 
 
 relation in which he stood with the Glencoe family, 
 as the intended husband of Lady Amelia, he very 
 often domiciliated himself in the house during the 
 whole of the day, helping the ladies to wind their 
 silks and thread, or forming loving words with pins 
 on the top of the pincushion, or other such notable 
 doings, with which certain effeminates employ their 
 leisure hours. He also fancied himself a good reader, 
 and he often obleeged the female part of the family by 
 reading to them the Court Circular, or other such 
 vapid publications, in which the people of this most 
 enlightened nation are supposed to be edified by the 
 information of the exact time when royalty and nobi- 
 lity are pleased to walk, to eat, to ride, and to sleep ; 
 to which information as much real value is attached 
 by the said people as to the calving of Giles Dob- 
 bin's cow, or the farrowing of Dame Burden's sow ; 
 but having been once rather puzzled by that little 
 imp of mischief, Julia Manners, to instruct her in 
 the difference between the Earl of Munster and a 
 Munster Earl, and also to describe to her the geo- 
 graphical situation of some of the towns mentioned 
 under the head of the Foreign Department, he in 
 future carefully abstained from touching upon any 
 other part of the paper than that which conveyed the 
 important intelligence of all the motions of the royal 
 family and their dependents, for which the British 
 community at large would not pay one farthing. 
 
 Whilst, however, the two anxious girls were plot- 
 ting in their heads some stratagem to get rid of the 
 unwelcome intruder, to their great surprise, Sir 
 Henry invited them to take a stroll with him in the
 
 312 FITZALLAN. 
 
 garden, as he had something- of importance to com- 
 municate to them. 
 
 Lady AmeHa turned as pale as a hly, for she 
 doubted not that the something, which Sir Henry 
 had to impart to her, had some reference to the scene 
 of the preceding night; and she dreaded that some 
 further information might have been transmitted to 
 him, and that the sole purport of his morning visit 
 was to communicate it as one of the most interesting- 
 topics of the day. Willingly, however, would she 
 liave refused comphance with the invitation of Sir 
 Henry, but she feared he might enter upon the sub- 
 ject in the presence of her mother, and then, if she. 
 could not control her feelings, the maternal eye might 
 discover the state of her heart, and from that moment 
 put an end to all further intercourse with Fitzallan. 
 Taking therefore Julia by the arm, they proceeded to 
 the garden, when Sir Henry, addressing himself to 
 Julia, said, " It is on your account, Miss Manners, 
 that I have solicited this private conference, for I was 
 last night made acquainted with some circumstances 
 that very materially concern your welfare, and 
 which, were I to withhold from you, might induce 
 you to accuse me of not being your friend." 
 
 Julia and Lady Amelia looked at each other with 
 eyes of wonder and astonishment ; the latter, how- 
 ever, felt herself somewhat relieved, for she knew 
 well that her friend would be able to extricate herself 
 from any charge that might be brought against her ; 
 and as to herself, she feared nothing but a commen- 
 tary upon, or an appendix to the intidelity of Fitz- 
 allan, which she suspected 3ir Henry might have
 
 FITZALLAN. 313 
 
 picked up amongst the antiquated gossips of the 
 day. 
 
 " Indeed, Sir Henry," said Julia, " I feel myself 
 highly honoured by this mark of your attention to- 
 wards me ; but," she added, with the knowledge 
 which she possessed of the frivolous character of Sir 
 Henry, " I suppose your information has some refer- 
 ence to the loss of the bow from my bonnet, which 
 unfortunately befell me yesterday." 
 
 " No, Miss i\Ianners," said Sir Henry, " my in- 
 formation is of a much more serious nature ; and I 
 assure you it grieves me much, that you, as the 
 most intimate friend of my dear Amelia, should 
 have thrown away your affections on so great a pro- 
 fligate." 
 
 "How! what! Sir Henry," exclaimed Julia; 
 *' I throw my affections away on a profligate ! Really 
 your information, I will acknowledge, is both serious 
 and curious." 
 
 " But not less serious and curious than true," said 
 Sir Henry ; " and you cannot conceive how much I 
 was hurt, when I was informed that the illness of 
 Lady Amelia last night was entirely owing to her 
 extreme sympathy for the pain that you would en- 
 dure on the discovery of the infidelity of your lover." 
 
 Julia looked at Lady Amelia in the fullest amaze ; 
 she was completely confounded as to what answer 
 she should make ; for she was convinced that Sir 
 Henry had been either imposed upon with some 
 vamped up story, for the purpose of making a fool of 
 him, or that he had himself put a false construction 
 upon some reports which he had heard, and, in the
 
 314 FITZALLAN. 
 
 simplicity of his disposition, had hastened to commu- 
 nicate them in the proper quarter. 
 
 " Pray may I inquire," asked Lady Ameha, " to 
 whom you are indebted for the information, that my 
 illness was occasioned by the sympathy which I felt 
 for my friend ?" 
 
 "'0, certainly," said Sir Henry. *' You were no 
 sooner conveyed out of the room than Mr. Monckton 
 accosted me, and began to apologize to me, on the 
 ground, that he much feared that the conversation in 
 which he had been engaged with Miss Gordon was, 
 in a great degree, the cause of Lady Amelia's ill- 
 ness.'* 
 
 A trembling now came over Lady Amelia, for she 
 dreaded the remainder of the narrative ; she was, 
 however, relieved for the moment from her embar- 
 rassment by the playful manner in which Julia ac- 
 costed the Baronet, urging him by all means not to 
 keep her longer in suspense, but to proceed to the 
 infidelity of her lover at once. 
 
 " I am surprised, Miss Manners," said Sir Henry, 
 that you can treat the matter so jocosely ; but I 
 should not deem myself worthy of being called your 
 friend, if I did not warn you against Mr. Fitzallan, 
 to whom I regret to hear that you are attached, and on 
 whom Mr. Monckton insinuated, that even you. Lady 
 Amelia, had bestowed your affections ; but that was 
 an insinuation which I was able personally to repel, 
 from the endearing situation in which we stand to- 
 wards each other. But only think. Miss Manners, 
 what a vile faithless lover that Fitzallan has proved 
 himself to be."
 
 FITZALLAN. 315 
 
 " Oh ! oh !" exclaimed Juha, who could scarcely re- 
 frain from laughing aloud at the blunder which the 
 Baronet had made, " I will never have any thing 
 more to do with him ; I will discard him as my lover 
 for ever, but I cannot help crying" — taking the hand- 
 kerchief from her reticule — " a faithless fellow. And 
 are you sure, Sir Henry, that all that you have heard 
 is true ?" 
 
 " It is all true, you may depend upon it," said Sir 
 Henry ; " I could, if I had time this morning, con- 
 duct you to the very cottage where his beloved re- 
 sides." 
 
 *' Oh ! I shall faint," exclaimed Julia ; " my dear 
 Lady Amelia support me." 
 
 *' Run, run, my dear Sir Henry," exclaimed Lady 
 Amelia, " for some water, and some hartshorn, and 
 the bottle of sal volatile ; run, run, my dear Sir 
 Henry." 
 
 Sir Henry waited not for a second bidding, but 
 scampered oft towards the house with the utmost 
 speed. 
 
 " Oh, my dear Julia," said Lady Amelia, as soon 
 as Sir Henry was gone, " how can I ever repay you 
 for this proof of your kindness?" 
 
 " I am afraid I shall betray myself with laughing," 
 said Julia ; " but the tragedy, which we feared, is 
 over, and it is right that it should be succeeded by 
 a farce. Keep up your spirits, and all will yet be 
 well " 
 
 " Oh, Heavens '." exclaimed Lady Amelia, " I only 
 now begin to breathe again ; the agitation which I 
 have suffered for the last ten minutes threatened
 
 316 FITZALLAX. 
 
 every moment to overpower me. Oh ! what a weight 
 is taken off my heart." 
 
 " See, see," exclaimed Juha, " Sir Henry is re- 
 turning" ; haste and meet him, and tell him I am 
 recovered." 
 
 Lady Amelia followed the instructions of Julia, 
 and she hastened to meet Sir Henry, who had seve- 
 ral of the domestics in his train, bearing all kinds of 
 restoratives ; but Lady Amelia bade them return to 
 the house, for that the indisposition of Miss Manners 
 was merely momentary, and Sir Henry declared he 
 was heartily glad to hear of her recovery, but at the 
 same time, he could not but regret that her feelings 
 should have received so severe a shock. *' I am 
 certain, however," said he, " that she must be very 
 thankful to me for the warning I have given her; for 
 suppose, my dear Lady Amelia, that I should behave 
 to you as that Fitzallan has behaved to your friend, 
 v/hat would you say to me ?" 
 
 " I might not survive the shock. Sir Henry," an- 
 swered Lady Amelia. 
 
 *' I do not think you would indeed," said Sir 
 Henry, most piteousiy. 
 
 They now reached the spot where Julia was re- 
 clining against a tree, and she immediately expressed 
 her sincere obligations to Sir Henry for the warm 
 interest he had taken in her welfare. " But," she 
 added, " I have one most especial favour to ask of 
 you ; and that is, that neither in the presence of my- 
 self nor of Lady Amelia, you will ever mention again, 
 the name of Fitzallan. To me, you know well, the 
 very sound must be painful ; and to Lady Amelia,
 
 FIT2ALLAN. 317 
 
 who sympathizes so deeply in all my sufferings, the 
 meniion of the name must, I am certain, be attended 
 with emotions which I will not pretend to describe ; 
 you had a specimen of the intensity of her feelings last 
 night, and I am sure that you would not wish to see 
 a repetition of the scene." 
 
 " Heaven forbid !" exclaimed Sir Henry : " but for- 
 get your faithless deceiver altogether ; treat him with 
 contempt, as I shall do whenever I meet him." 
 
 "I will, I will," exclaimed Julia; "but it is 
 painful to me to carry on this conversation any fur- 
 ther ; my spirits are unable to sustain the contest; 
 allow me now to retire with my friend, to whom I 
 can unburden all my griefs, and from whose generou'S 
 sympathy I shall derive that consolation, of which I 
 now stand so much in need. Oh, Sir Henry, if you 
 hear of me drowning myself, or poisoning myself, or 
 hanging myself, or shooting myself, or stabbing my- 
 self, or smothering myself between two feather beds ; 
 then on Fitzallan's head let all your vengeance be 
 hurled; but it is too terrible to think of." 
 
 " Indeed it is. Miss Manners," said Sir Henry ; 
 " but let me advise you not to attempt your life ; he 
 is not worthy of your killing yourselt for him ; but I 
 perceive you are much agitated." 
 
 " Greatly so indeed, Sir Henry," said Julia. 
 " I will therefore now take my leave," said Sir 
 Henry. " Adieu, my dear Lady Amelia; you shall 
 never find a Fitzallan in me." 
 
 " I have always heard you praised," said Julia, 
 " for speaking the truth ; and I can confidently as- 
 sert, from the knowledge which I possess of you, that
 
 318 FITZALLAN. 
 
 you never spoke a greater truth than that which you 
 have just now uttered." 
 
 *' I thank you much for the compliment, Miss 
 Manners," said Sir Henry, " and I hope you will 
 always find that I shall act on every occasion towards 
 you, as I have done on the present one." 
 
 " It would be folly in me," said Julia, " to expect 
 from you any line of conduct different from that 
 which you have just now pursued. Adieu !" 
 
 " Adieu !" cried Sir Henry ; and kissing his hand 
 to the ladies, bent his steps towards the house, in- 
 flated with no mean opinion of the able and talented 
 manner in which he had accomplished his task. That 
 he had exalted himself several degrees in the good 
 opinion of Lady Amelia was with him a matter of 
 which it would be heresy to doubt; that he had esta- 
 blished himself for ever in the high estimation of 
 Julia Manners, and that he was, in his own conceit, 
 richly deserving of being considered by her as her 
 deliverer and preserver, were two points, on which it 
 would be as difficult to convince him to the contrary 
 as to persuade a lawyer that he is not a rogue, or a 
 bishop that he is not fond of pelf 
 
 Notwithstanding, however, the apparent levity with 
 v/hich Lady Amelia and her faithful friend had 
 treated the information given to them by Sir Henry, 
 yet they were no sooner alone, than, regarding the 
 matter in its proper point of view, it was at once 
 evident to both of them, that Lady Amelia had every 
 thing to dread from the reports that were in circula- 
 tion respecting her, and the machinations of those 
 individuals, who had so basely conspired to ruin her
 
 FITZALLAN. 319 
 
 character and her fame. One point had, however, 
 been gained, and it was one of no minor importance ; 
 which was, that they knew the quarter from which 
 the conspiracy emanated ; and no doubt now rested 
 on the minds of both Lady Amelia and Julia, that 
 the story as related by Adeline to Monckton, was 
 fabricated for the sole purpose of ascertaining the 
 effect v/hich their slander would have upon her feel- 
 ings, and thereby forming their estimate, as a clue to 
 their future proceedings, of the existence of any 
 actual attachment between Lady Amelia and Fitz- 
 allan. In what manner, however, Julia had become 
 implicated in an amour withFitzallan wasan enigma 
 which neither of them could solve ; and yet Sir 
 Henry had explicitly declared that the information 
 was received from Monckton, but that person could 
 have no ostensible motive in involving Julia in his 
 implication, and therefore she was strongly inclined 
 to consider the report of Sir Henry as some gross 
 blunder on his part, in the commission of which he 
 was well known to be a great proficient. 
 
 With highly lacerated feelings the two friends bent 
 their steps towards the cottage. Lady Amelia felt 
 almost as if she were hastening to the decision of her 
 fate ; for on the establishment of the guilt or inno- 
 cence of Fitzallan depended her future happiness. 
 And yet there was one question which she hardly 
 dared to put to herself She had never yet made a 
 declaration of her love to Fitzallan; what right had 
 she then to monopolize his affections? he had never 
 ventured to express his love for her in any other way 
 than in that mute expressive language, which cannot
 
 320 PITZALLAN. 
 
 be misunderstood. Their station, their condition in 
 life was different ; could Fitzallan ever hope that the 
 parents of Lady Amelia Fortescue would give their 
 consent to a matrimonial alliance with an individual 
 of no pretensions whatever? endowed with no rank 
 nor fortune ; his mother living in a state of impene- 
 trable mystery, and his father reported to be living-, 
 but from some extraordinary cause unwilling to de- 
 clare himself to be his parent. Independently of all 
 which, was it not well known to Fitzallan that Lady 
 Amelia was in reality betrothed to another, and that, 
 perhaps, ere a month had elapsed, she might be a 
 bride, and himself then the victim to an unlawful 
 passion. These circumstances Avere all well known 
 to Fitzallan ; then, as many insuperable objec- 
 tions existed to Lady Amelia ever becoming his 
 wife, why should the restriction be imposed upon 
 him that he should not love another, or that if 
 be did love another, why should it be imputed to 
 him as an act of deception or a want of principle, 
 seeing that the individual whom he could and would 
 have loved was placed in such circumstances, that 
 any attempt or expectation of a matrimonial alliance 
 between them would have been rejected as an act of 
 the most barefaced presumption, and have exposed 
 the aspiring youth to the laughter and ridicule of all 
 the immediate connexions of the lady to whose hand 
 he aspired. 
 
 To say that Lady Amelia argued the matter in her 
 own mind according to those principles, would be in 
 fact saying a great deal too much ; but the question 
 is, considering that she was under the influence of a
 
 FITZALLAN. 32l 
 
 ■{.assion which equalizes all ranks, dignities, and 
 titles, which exalts the peasant to a prince, and bnngs 
 down the prince to the peasant, whether she stopped 
 to argue the matter at all, and whether, in the exu- 
 berance of her imagination, she did not see every 
 difficulty overcome, every disparity of rank and con- 
 dition annulled, and herself the loving and beloved 
 ■wife of a humble plebeian. 
 
 Nevertheless one thing is certain; which is, that 
 the two friends on their way to the cottage, occupied 
 their minds with one all-engrossing topic. Fitzallan. 
 was the sole theme of their conversation, and should 
 his delinquency be detected, the resolution was formed 
 to break off all further connexion with him ; to treat 
 liim with contempt, with scorn, and to disavow him 
 e^en as an acquaintance. Our experience, however, 
 in the world tells us, that it is a resolution which 
 many a girl has made before under similar circum- 
 stances and that the resolution was kept most reli- 
 giously until the very first opportunity presented itself 
 
 ■ of infringing it 
 
 '^' They were nowm sight of the cottage, and a coun- 
 cil was held as to the conduct they should pursue. 
 It was determined that the most rigid caution should 
 be observed ; for if detection were to ensue, and par- 
 ticularly by certain individuals, the most injurious 
 constructions might be put upon their actions, which 
 malice and jealousy could devise ; their reputation 
 also might receive a stab, the consequences of which 
 might fellow them through the remainder of their 
 lives. They now took a distant survey of the cot- 
 tage ; not an individual appeared to be moving about 
 
 VOL. I. Y
 
 323 FITZALLAN. 
 
 it, and as far as the distance would allow them to 
 judge, the house appeared to be so closely shut, as 
 if a recent death had happened in it. 
 
 Irresolute whether to approach the cottage or not^ 
 they stood under the friendly shelter of some oaks, 
 when they were startled with the sound of footsteps 
 behind them ; and on looking round, to their inex- 
 pressible mortification and confusion, they beheld 
 Sir Henry Montfort. " Oh dear ! oh dear !" ex- 
 claimed the Baronet ; " how I have run. I declare I 
 am quite out of breath ; but I am glad I have over- 
 taken you ; but I'll tell you all about it — don't think 
 I mean to intrude upon you. I thought you might 
 want my assistance, and therefore I have hurried 
 after you ; for you must know, my dear Lady- 
 Amelia, that I mentioned to your father the unlucky 
 scrape into which your friend, Miss Manners, had 
 fallen with that worthless fellow, Fitzallan, and he 
 suspected immediately that you might have directed 
 your walk to the cottage, in order to ascertain the 
 truth of the story which Mr. Monckton related to me, 
 he therefore recommended that I should postpone the 
 important business which I had then immediately on 
 hand, which was the purchase of a greyhound of 
 Lord Rivers's breed, and hasten after you, to render 
 you any assistance which the occasion may require." 
 
 This long explanation on the part of the officious 
 Baronet gave the ladies some little time to recover them- 
 selves from the confusion into which the sudden and 
 very unexpected appearance of Sir Henry had thrown 
 Iheni ; but they both felt severely the difficulty of their 
 situation, and a secret dread operated on both their
 
 FITZALLAN. 323 
 
 minds, that if they persevered in 'the original intenf 
 of their walk, such circumstances might transpire, as 
 would fully expose to Sir Henry the error into which 
 he had been led, of the supposed attachment subsist- 
 ing between Julia and Fitzallan, and by the discovery 
 of the real truth frustrate the whole of their future 
 plans. 
 
 " Well, ladies," continued the Baronet, "we will, 
 if you please, now proceed to the cottage, which there 
 stands by the road side ; and I can assure you, Miss 
 Manners, you shall find in me a most formidable 
 champion to defend your character and your hap- 
 piness." 
 
 Juha now perceiving that unless she summoned all 
 the energy and fortitude which she possessed to her 
 aid, the cause of her friend might be injured and 
 lost for ever, proceeded resolutely to address the 
 Baronet. 
 
 " Sir Henry," she said, " I beg leave to offer you 
 my thanks for the interest you take in my behalf, but 
 in a matter of this kind my feelings tell me to dechne 
 your interference altogether." 
 
 " Decline my interference !" repeated the Baronet, 
 hastily ; " Oh, Miss Manners ! how can you act so 
 foolishly? how can you be so blind to the danger 
 which awaits you ?" 
 
 " Of that. Sir Henry," said Julia, " I must be al- 
 lowed to be the best judge." 
 
 " You cannot possibly be a judge — I mean an im- 
 partial one," said Sir Henry, " in an affair of this 
 kind ; you are blinded by affection, and ther.-fore 
 you stand in need of a sincere, disinterested liriend." 
 y2
 
 324 FITZALLAN. 
 
 " But," said Julia, " I may surely be allowed the 
 privilege of choosing the individual who is to be that 
 disinterested friend : and you will permit me to say, 
 that I know the difference between a sincere friend 
 and an officious intruder." 
 
 " You cannot possibly, Miss Manners," said Sir 
 Henry, "attach the latter character to me! What 
 would my dear Lady Amelia say to me, if I did not 
 stand forward as the champion of her friend?" 
 
 " Indeed, Sir Henry," said Lady Amelia, " as it 
 appears to be the wish of my friend that you should 
 not interfere in this business, I must confess that the 
 best way in which you can show your regard for me, 
 is to desist from all further meddling in the affair." 
 
 " Pooh ! pooh ! my dear Lady Amelia," exclaimed 
 Sir Henry, "that very speech convinces me that Miss 
 Manners never stood more in need of a defender of 
 her character and happiness than at the present mo- 
 ment. When I shall know the bliss of calling you 
 Lady Montfort, would you not be inclined at some 
 future moments of our life, to upbraid me with pusil- 
 lanimity, with a want of all attention to the interests 
 of your dearest friend, with a neglect of my duty as 
 a man, and ignorance of the conduct and manners of 
 a gentleman, if I allowed her to be maltreated by a 
 worthless, unprincipled fellow, and I hesitated for a 
 moment to step forward as her champion ?" 
 
 " As to the defence of my character," said Julia, 
 " I must positively desire. Sir Henry, that you leave 
 that to my own care and preservation ; and even, 
 supposing that I required a champion to defend it, I 
 will be so candid as to avow, that you are not exactly
 
 FITZALLAN. 325 
 
 the individual whom I would select to fill that situa- 
 tion. In regard to my happiness, I allow that you 
 have it in your power to contribute to it in a most 
 essential manner." 
 
 " Did I not tell you so, Miss Manners," said Sir 
 Henry, rudely interrupting her ; " I knew you would 
 be obliged at last to confess that your happiness de- 
 pends upon me." 
 
 " I acknowledge it," said Julia, " to the fullest 
 spirit of the letter ; I should utter a falsehood were 
 I to deny it, and I will now tell you in what manner 
 you can most essentially contribute to my happiness." 
 
 " Speak, Miss Manners," said Sir Henry, bridling 
 up with a high degree of self-importance. 
 
 " I need not inform you. Sir Henry," said Julia, 
 " of the present agonized state of my feelings." 
 
 " Ah !" said Sir Henry, " it is indeed a sad 
 business." 
 
 " And under those circumstances," said Julia, " the 
 greatest happiness which you, Sir Henry, can confer 
 upon me, is to return immediately from whence you 
 came, and leave me solely to the condolence and con- 
 solation of my dearest friend." 
 
 " What 1 leave you in your present state. Miss 
 Manners !" ejaculated Sir Henry, " impossible ! — 
 No, no. I am well aware that you may look upon 
 my present interference as intrusive and officious, but 
 the time will come when you will thank me for it. 
 Now let us proceed towards the cottage." 
 
 " Never," exclaimed Julia, in the most emphatic 
 manner, " shall it be said that I ever sought for or
 
 32B FITZALLAN. 
 
 sanctioned your interference in any affairs of mine ; 
 I disclaim on your part, all right so to do, either by 
 solicitation, intimacy, or consanguinity. I denounce 
 your conduct to be both ungentlemanlike and un- 
 handsome in persevering to intrude yourself into the 
 affairs of an individual, who is comparatively a total 
 stranger to you, and from whose company you ought 
 to have retired, as soon as you had been made ac- 
 quainted that your presence was disagreeable." 
 
 " I can make every allowance," said Sir Henry, 
 " for the warmth, Miss Manners, in which you have 
 expressed yourself, but you and I view things through 
 very opposite media. The affection which you may 
 still entertain for Fitzallan, notwithstanding his 
 alleged infidelity, may naturally prompt you to exte- 
 nuate his fault, and to shield him from the conse- 
 quences of an open and disreputable discovery. But 
 I — how differently is it situated with me ? I view the 
 whole of the affair through the cool and dispassionate 
 medium of truth and propriety. I am not warped 
 by any prejudices of affection — you have sustained an 
 injury, a deep, irretrievable injury, and therefore re- 
 dress must be had.'' 
 
 " For Heaven's sake," said Lady Amelia, " desist 
 at present, Sir Henry, from all further importunity. 
 I cannot endure to see the feelings of my friend so 
 harassed by your pertinacious conduct, and, there- 
 fore, to put an end to the business, we will all return 
 home together." 
 
 " And not investigate the affair at the cottage ?'* 
 exclaimed Sir Henry. " No, no. Miss Manners, you
 
 riTZALLAN. 327 
 
 shall never complain that I did not obtain you re- 
 dress," and with these words he ran off towards the 
 cottage with the utmost speed. 
 
 " Oh, heavens !" exclaimed Lady Amelia, throw- 
 ing- her arms around the neck of Julia, " Oh ! how 
 shall I be able to endure this trying scene ? Oh ! if 
 Fitzallan should be there — if he should bring him 
 hither — Oh ! how can I receive him — how shall I be 
 able to keep such a control over my feelings as not 
 to expose my weakness, not only to Fitzallan, but to 
 Sir Henry Montfort ? Oh ! Julia, into what a di- 
 lemma have I brought myself?" 
 
 " Summon all your courage, my dear Amelia," said 
 Julia, " and what is more, summon all your pride ; 
 if Fitzallan be at the cottage, and he presumes to ap- 
 pear before you, show him by your behaviour — show 
 him by a high and dignified demeanour, that you con- 
 sider him unworthy of you — that you resent his per- 
 fidious conduct, and by a display of silent contempt, 
 make him feel his own disgrace, and the irreparable 
 loss which he has sustained." 
 
 " Oh !" said Lady Amelia, " and if it should be 
 so — if it should be proved that Fitzallan is there 
 living with one, who is dearer to his heart than my- 
 self, if it should be determined that I must renounce 
 him for ever, forego every prospect of future happi- 
 ness, which my romantic fancy has painted for me in 
 the most captivating colours, if henceforth I may 
 never pronounce his name but as of a person dead to 
 me in this world — then, my dearest Julia, talk not to 
 me of stoicism, of pride, of resentment, but weep ibr 
 me — for misery is my future lot."
 
 328 FITZALLAX. 
 
 They now saw Sir Henry open the little gate which 
 led into the garden in front of the cottage, and in a few 
 moments he was seen knocking at the door. At this 
 moment,the intensity of Lady Amelia's feelings was al- 
 most past endurance. Had she stood at the entrance 
 of some haunted cave, from which she expected every 
 moment some horrid spectre to emerge, her heart 
 could not have palpitated more irregularly; nor, when 
 the door of the cottage was opened, could she have 
 strained her vision more intensely, to catch a glimpse 
 of eveiy object which presented itself, particularly of 
 any form bearing any resemblance to Fitzallan. Orr 
 the opening of the door, a female was seen to present 
 herself, who having apparently listened to the mes- 
 sage delivered by Sir Henry, retired within, and in a 
 short time — oh ! what were now the feelings of 
 Lady Amelia — Fitzallan presented himself — " Oh ! 
 heavens!" she exclaimed, "it is then all too true — 
 Pitzallan loves another — and I — I am rejected ;" a 
 flood of tears came to her relief, or she would have 
 fallen senseless in the arms of Julia. 
 
 " Come, come, my dear Amelia," said Julia, " do 
 not yet despair. I own that appearances are much 
 against him ; let us wait awhile ; let us hear what 
 Sir Henry has to report to us, who, although I shall 
 ever hate him for his impertinent officiousness, may 
 yet, contrary to our own ideas, be conducive to the 
 elucidation of the apparently mysterious, and, I must 
 confess, dishonourable conduct of Fitzallan." 
 
 " Oh I my dear Julia," said Lady Amelia, '* say not 
 a word in his defence ; would that I had never known 
 him, or, knowing him, that I had never loved him.'*^
 
 riTZALLAN. 329 
 
 " Seat yourself for a short time on this tree," 
 said JuHa, " until the flurry of your spirits has. 
 subsided, and we will then trace our steps home- 
 wards." 
 
 " Oh ! let not Sir Henry see me in this state," 
 said Lady Amelia, " for I will now hesitate no longer 
 to fulfil the wishes of my father ; I will give my hand 
 in marriage to Sir Henry, so careless am 1 now of 
 what becomes of me. The happiness of this world, 
 is closed upon me ; and now, Julia, lead me to my 
 home, once my happy one, now how sad and, 
 cheerless !" 
 
 Slowly they bent their retiring steps ; but ever and 
 anon Lady Amelia turned her head, and took another 
 look at the humble dwelling, of which she would 
 have thought it the bliss of her life to be the in- 
 mate, if another, of whose name now she must forget 
 the sound, shared its solitude with her. She saw- 
 Sir Henry and Fitzallan still standing in the garden 
 in the front of the cottage — another step — and it was 
 her last look — perhaps the last on earth of him she 
 loved ; she laid her head on Julia's shoulder, and 
 burst into tears. 
 
 Whilst the two affectionate friends were thus com- 
 muning, the following extraordinary scene took place 
 between Sir Henry and Fitzallan. If the latter ex- 
 pressed his surprise at seeing Sir Henry Montfort so 
 most unexpectedly, when he was aware no personal 
 interest of his own could call him, how much the 
 more was he confounded, when Sir Henry informed 
 him, that ascertaining he should find him at the cot- 
 tage, he had taken upon himself the office of calling
 
 330 FITZ ALLAN. 
 
 to request some explanation from him in regard to his 
 conduct towards Miss Manners. 
 
 *' I declare, Sir Henry," said Fitzallan, "my total 
 ignorance to what part of my conduct you allude, for 
 I am not aware that I ever in the slightest degree, 
 either in word, deed, or action, so committed myself 
 as to give offence to Miss Manners, a young lady for 
 whom I entertain the highest sentiments of respect 
 and esteem." 
 
 " And I have reason to believe, Mr. Fitzallan," 
 said Sir Henry, " that you have given her good cause 
 to flatter herself that you entertain sentiments towards 
 her of a still more tender nature." 
 
 Fitzallan actually stared at Sir Henry, overcome 
 with surprise and wonder. " I beg," said he at last, 
 " that you will explain yourself more distinctly on 
 this subject, Sir Henry ; and you'll excuse my can- 
 dour when I tell you, that I allow no one to im- 
 pute dishonourable or unprincipled conduct to me, 
 without calling upon him for his proof or his autho- 
 rity." 
 
 " Mr. Fitzallan," said Sir Henry, *' you cannot 
 expect from me a more valid proof, nor a better au- 
 thenticated authority, than the lady herself" 
 
 " Miss Manners herself !" repeated Fitzallan,— 
 " Oh ! it is impossible ; you have assuredly been 
 made the dupe of some artful, designing person, and 
 as I know, Sir Henry, that it is a peculiar trait in 
 your character to interfere in the affairs of others, 
 seldom with their consent, and often without their 
 knowledge, you will allow me to suspect, that this is a 
 very striking proof of the exercise of that disposition."
 
 FITZALLAN. 331 
 
 " By no means — by no means," ejaculated Sir 
 Henry, triumphantly ; " I have interfered in this bu- 
 siness with the full knowledge of Miss Manners, and 
 further, with the entire concurrence of, and at the 
 express recommendation of the father of my dearly 
 beloved Lady Amelia Fortescue ; to whom, perhaps 
 J need not inform you, I am going to be married in 
 a few days." 
 
 " At the recommendation of the father of Lady 
 Amelia Fortescue," muttered Fitzallan to himself, 
 and bent his look in deep reflection to the ground. 
 Sir Henry construed this conduct of Fitzallan into a 
 tacit admission of his guilt. " And can you be sur 
 prised, Mr. Fitzallan," he said, *' that when the re- 
 port was conveyed to Miss Manners, whose affections 
 I fear you have too well succeeded in obtaining, that 
 3'ou were living with a lady under this roof, whom 
 you loved better than herself, and for whom you have 
 deserted her, that she fainted away in the arms of 
 Lady Amelia, and was only brought to herself by the 
 powerful restoratives which I administered to her?" 
 
 *' Further — further" — exclaimed Fitzallan, whose 
 countenance expressed the conflict of the most violent 
 passions — " I am prepared to hear all you have to 
 say ; but I now warn you, say not a word for which 
 you cannot bring forth your proof, strong as of holy 
 writ, for 1 swear some blood shall flow for this. Tell 
 me, Sir Henry, and I insist upon a categorical an- 
 swer, by whom are you deputed to instigate this in- 
 vestigation into my conduct, and to bring charo-es 
 against me, which are as black and false as the heart 
 in which they were engendered?"
 
 332 FITZALLAN. 
 
 " Your presence in this cottage," said Sir Henry, 
 *' is confirmatory of the charge against you, of your 
 culpable and unprincipled desertion of Miss Manners, 
 and of your secret amour with another." 
 
 " Who is the individual," exclaimed Fitzallan, 
 " who dares accuse Hector Fitzallan of a culpable 
 and unprincipled action ? Your authority, Sir Henry, 
 or from this moment I shall hold you to be the au- 
 thor of the calumny, and treat you accordingly." 
 
 " I have it from the lips of Miss Manners herself," 
 said Sir Henry, " that your infidelity towards her was 
 a base and unprincipled act ; and you know not half 
 the pain which you have occasioned her, for when 
 the subject of your conduct towards Miss Manners 
 was the subject of conversation at Mrs. Thurston's 
 rout, it accidentally came to the ears of Lady Amelia, 
 my dearly beloved intended wife, and so keenly did 
 her susceptible and sympathizing heart feel for her 
 affectionate and confidential friend, that she fainted 
 away in my arms." 
 
 For some moments the utterance of Fitzallan was 
 choked ; his ideas became confused ; he had heard 
 enough from Sir Henry to lead him to believe that 
 he was ruined for ever in the estimation of Lady 
 Amelia Fortescue, and he strongly suspected that the 
 tale of his attachment to Miss Manners had been in- 
 vented by his enemies, to estrange those individuals 
 from him, in whose good opinion he had hitherto 
 stood so highly. Still, however, he was borne up by 
 the consciousness of his own innocence and integrity, 
 and arousing himself from the confusion into which 
 the information of Sir Henry had plunged him, he
 
 FITZALLAN. 1333 
 
 said, " I have no means, Sir Henry, under my pre- 
 sent circumstances, of immediately ascertaining- the 
 motive which has induced you to take upon yourself 
 the character of a champion in this business. I can- 
 not consider that personal friendship or regard for me 
 has had the slightest weight in determining the line 
 of conduct which you have thought proper to adopt, 
 and, therefore, I can only consider you as the instru- 
 ment of some designing person to etfect some parti- 
 cular purpose, in which virtue and integrity have, 
 perhaps, very little participation." 
 
 *' I can assure you, Mr. Fitzallan," said Sir Henry, 
 " that I am not actuated by any other motive than a 
 desire to see the injury redressed which the chosen 
 friend of my dearly beloved Amelia has received from 
 your hands ; and if you doubt my asseveration on that 
 head, you have it in your power to convince yourself 
 of the truth or falsity of it in a very few minutes, as 
 Lady Amelia and Miss Manners are both awaiting 
 my return in yonder wood." 
 
 " What do I hear !" exclaimed Fitzallan. " And 
 have Lady Amelia and Miss Manners condescended 
 so far as to become the hidden spies upon my actions, 
 and to depute you as their agent, to collect every idle 
 tale which calumny or malice may have engendered 
 to rob me of my fair fame, and alienate from me the 
 hearts of those whose friendship and good opinion 
 I prize too highly, not to consider the loss of them 
 as one of the greatest calamities which could befall 
 me ?" 
 
 " I am not come hither," said Sir Henry, " to 
 canvass the question with you as to whom is or is
 
 334 FITZ ALLAN. 
 
 not your friend, but I will so far exonerate Lady 
 Amelia and Miss Manners from the charge which you 
 have brought against them, as to avow that the latter 
 in particular peremptorily enjoined me not to seek 
 a personal interview with you here, but to leave the 
 defence and justification of her character entirely to 
 herself." 
 
 " And Lady Amelia," asked Fitzallan — " what 
 were her dispositions?" 
 
 •' Of course," answered Sir Henry, " she coincided 
 in the wishes of her friend. But considering the 
 near relation in which I stand towards her — and the 
 still nearer in which I shall soon stand — I considered 
 myself called upon most imperiously to assume the 
 character of their champion, and I have no doubt 
 they regard me as the most valuable friend they 
 possess." 
 
 " Of that I will convince myself and you too in a 
 very few minutes," said Fitzallan. "" I will imme- 
 diately see the ladies, and I have no doubt I shall be 
 able to exonerate myself in the most satisfactory 
 manner from any charge which they may have to 
 allege against me." 
 
 " The ladies," said Sir Henry, " are for the time 
 being under my protection, and I shall consider any 
 intrusion upon their privacy, or any personal annoy- 
 ance given to them, as an insult given to myself." 
 
 " I am convinced," said Fitzallan, " that I know 
 the character and manners of a gentleman too well, 
 to intrude myself unnecessarily or wantonly on the 
 privacy of any lady, much less to offer to her any 
 personal annoyance, and as to the construction which
 
 PITZALLAN. 335 
 
 you may think proper to put upon my actions, in re- 
 ference to yourself, I beg you to observe, that under 
 existing- circumstances, I shall not pay the shghtest 
 attention to it." 
 
 " Mr. Fitzallan," said Sir Henry, " I consider my- 
 self entitled to dictate to Lady Amelia with whom 
 she shall hold any intercourse, and consequently, as 
 affairs now stand, I shall interdict her from associating 
 with any one without my previous knowledge and 
 consent." 
 
 " My character. Sir Henry," said Fitzallan, " is 
 of greater consequence to me, than your interdiction, 
 or your displeasure, and were not your insignificance 
 in a great degree your protection, I would let you 
 know, this very moment, that you cannot pass an 
 insult upon me with impunity. Now, Sir Henry, if 
 you please, follow me to the ladies ;" and thus saying, 
 he set off at a rapid pace towards the wood. 
 
 On their way thither, Sir Henry mounted his stilts 
 of self-importance, and in the full spirit of aristocra- 
 tical pomposity, declared that it was a matter of the 
 greatest condescension in him to have thus interfered 
 with a plebeian in a case of mere personal character ; 
 but Fitzallan kept a very strong check upon his in- 
 dignation, determining on the very first opportunity 
 that presented itself, to give the Baronet that chas- 
 tisem.ent which he so richly deserved. 
 
 Lady Amelia and Julia were walking slowly 
 homewards, conversing confidentially on the manner 
 in which they were to deport themselves towards 
 Fitzallan, at the same time that in their hearts arose 
 the most bitter hatred against Sir Henry for his offi-
 
 336 FITZALLAN. 
 
 cious and impertinent interference in the business, 
 when, on a sudden, Julia looking behind her, beheld 
 Fitzallan approaching- them with hasty strides, fol- 
 lowed by Sir Henry, who appeared more than 
 anxious to keep up with his companion, and at 
 times attempting to overtake him. 
 
 " Good heavens !" exclaimed Julia, "keep yourself 
 collected, ray dear Amelia, Fitzallan and Sir Henry- 
 are but a short distance behind us." 
 
 " Oh, gracious powers !" exclaimed Lady Amelia, 
 *' how shall I endure the interview !" 
 
 " Follow my advice," said Julia ; " shun at pre- 
 sent all explanation ; let us behave towards him with 
 every mark of the most indignant displeasure ; treat 
 him with the pride of offended dignity ; and although 
 it may give to the mean and petty mind of Sir Henry 
 the satisfaction of a temporary triumph, it will be the 
 certain means of allaying in his mind any suspicions 
 of the real state of your heart towards Fitzallan." 
 
 " I fear," said Lady Amelia, " that I shall not be 
 -able to keep a sufficient control over my feelings ; it 
 is impossible for the heart of woman k> undergo a 
 severer trial than to find that the object of its love is 
 unworthy of it." 
 
 " I have a presentiment within me," said Julia, 
 *' that we shall find Fitzallan guiltless of the charge 
 against him. But, hush ! they are now close behind 
 us ;" and in a moment afterwards, Sir Henry was 
 heard vociferating, " Lady Amelia ! Lady Amelia ! 
 Miss Manners ! Miss Manners !" 
 
 The ladies turned round, and Fitzallan stood be- 
 fore them, his cheeks reddened with the glow of
 
 FITZALLAN 337 
 
 honest indignation ; and there was in his whole de- 
 meanour that display of maiily pride, which is always 
 the concomitant of conscious integrity and unde- 
 viating rectitude of conduct. He bowed in the most 
 formal manner to Lady Amelia, and afterwards to 
 Julia, and his salutation was returned with the most 
 repellent stiffness, and with the full exhibition of a 
 deep lurking indignation. 
 
 " I must apologize to you, ladies," said Fitzallan, 
 *' for thus intruding myself into your society, but 
 having been informed by your deputy and champion, 
 Sir Henry Montfort, that I have been guilty of a 
 gross dereliction of honour and principle, particularly 
 towards you, Miss Manners, I have, consistently with 
 that regard which is due to my own character, forced 
 myself, perhaps thus impertinently, into your society, 
 to solicit from you some explanation of that part of 
 my conduct which appears so particularly to have 
 drawn upon me your displeasure and resentment." 
 
 " Mr. Fitzallan," said Sir Henry, " I am the in- 
 dividual who is prepared to give you every explana- 
 tion which you may require." 
 
 ' Sir Henry," said Fitzallan, " unless it appear to 
 be the particular desire of the ladies, I shall, on the 
 present occasion, not condescend to receive any ex- 
 planation from you." 
 
 " What !" exclaimed Sir Henry ; " not when you 
 must look upon me as Miss Manners's chosen de- 
 fender and champion?" 
 
 *' Not chosen by Miss Manners," said Julia, 
 archly. 
 
 " But," said Sir Henry, "as the defender of the 
 
 VOL. I. z
 
 338 FITZALLAN. 
 
 .character of the most intimate friend of my dear Lady 
 Amelia, whom in a few days I shall have the happi- 
 ness of calling my bride, I consider myself as the most 
 proper person to give and receive any explanation 
 of the actions or conduct of any individual, who, by 
 his gross departure from honour and principle, may 
 have robbed you of your future happiness." 
 
 During this speech of Sir Henry's, the looks of 
 Lady Amelia and Fitzallan met each other. There 
 was an expression in that of the former, which the 
 latter could not misinterpret, and which shot daggers 
 to his heart 5 there was in it all the spirit of a wounded 
 love beaming through a tear which trembled on the 
 eyelid, but there was in it also that eloquent language 
 so peculiar to the female eye, when it would tell that 
 there is a rankling grief within, which pains the more 
 because it dare not be disclosed. 
 
 " Allow me to say, Sir Henry," said Julia, " that 
 as I am in this instance the aggrieved person, I do 
 jiot consider this to be either the time or place for an 
 explanation ; and that in regard to the office which 
 you now appear to till, it is one entirely assumed on 
 your part, and, as far as myself is concerned, wholly 
 contrary to my wishes." 
 
 Sir Henry felt himself deeply humiliated by this 
 exposition on the part of Julia; and addressing him- 
 self to Lady Amelia, he said, " Whatever ingratitude 
 I may experience from Miss Manners for my gene- 
 rous and disinterested conduct in her behalf, I know 
 that I shall receive from you those tokens of your 
 love and affection, which you have hitherto so pro- 
 fusely bestowed upon me. I shall therefore take
 
 FITZALLAN. 339 
 
 you under my immediate protection ; and I only- 
 regret, considering the circumstances under which 
 Miss Manners stands in regard to Mr. Fitzallan, 
 that she has exhibited so much perverseness as to re- 
 ject my friendly interference in her behalf" 
 
 During this dialogue between Sir Henry and 
 Julia, Fitzallan stood as a mute auditor, his heart 
 tortured with the idea of the inestimable treasure he 
 was in a few days to lose, and that perhaps his eyes 
 were then resting for the last time upon the idol of 
 his love, ere at the altar she had pledged her love 
 and obedience to another, and consequently to him 
 dead for ever. As to the baseless imputation wliich 
 had been thrown upon his character, he considered it 
 as scarcely worthy of a single thought ; a few minutes 
 of confidential intercourse with either Lady Amelia 
 or JuUa would, he was well convinced, obliterate 
 from their minds every evil impression which the 
 mahgnity of others might have raised against him ; 
 but, when he looked upon Lady Amelia — upon that 
 individual with whom every thought of his soul was 
 entwined, and in whose love was concentred all the 
 bliss of his future life, then he felt himself in the 
 world as some lonely isolated being; for life is a 
 desert without love; and he seemed at the m.oment 
 when he was about to part from her, as taking the 
 last farewell of all that was dear to him on the earth, 
 72erer to meet with it again. There is something in 
 that word never at which the affectionate heart re- 
 volts ; so long as hope animates the breast with the 
 cheering thought, thait the kiss which is given is not 
 the last ; then on the dreary path of life some blos- 
 z2
 
 340 FITZALLAN. 
 
 soms still spring forth, and the weary wanderer plods 
 his way, hoping- ere long he may taste that kiss again. 
 But never is a death in life ; and the heart that knows 
 ■and feels it, is like a clouded heaven w^ith not a star 
 to lighten it ; a desert without a flower to deck it ; a 
 night on which no morning* ever breaks. 
 
 Julia now perceived by the tears which were trem- 
 bling in the eyes of Lady Amelia, that if the inter- 
 view were protracted much longer, she would be 
 obliged to yield to the overpowering intensity of her 
 feelings ; struggling as she then was between a 
 firmly-rooted love, and the supposed unworthiness of 
 the object on whom that love was bestowed ; address- 
 ing herself therefore to Fitzallan, she said, " There 
 is no one, Mr. Fitzallan, to whom the justification of 
 your conduct will be more agreeable, and I may add, 
 more truly welcome, than to myself. This evening 
 my mother and myself will keep ourselves disengaged, 
 when, if you will grant us a few minutes of your 
 company, I have reason to believe that our intimacy 
 will be restored to its former footing." 
 ■ " And I will make a point," said Sir Henry, " of 
 attending at the same time." 
 
 " I shall in this case. Sir Henry," said Julia, 
 *' exercise the privilege which I possess of selecting 
 my own company ; the business concerns me, not 
 you. Sir Henry." 
 
 " What!" exclaimed Sir Henry, rudely interrupt- 
 ing her, " how can you declare that the business does 
 not concern me ? Would it have proceeded thus far 
 in its examination but for my interference ? have I 
 not shown myself your most able defender and ad-
 
 FITZALLAN. 341 
 
 tocate ? and then to tell me that the business does 
 not concern me ! I know that I am acting with the 
 entire concurrence of Lady Amelia and her family ; 
 and I must say, that with your strong predilections 
 and prejudices in favour of the delinquent, added to 
 the excessive credulity of your disposition in all mat- 
 ters where your heart is concerned, you are the most 
 unfit person that I know of to undertake, unassisted, 
 the examination of the charge against Mr. Fitz- 
 allan." 
 
 " Not to protract this interview any longer," said 
 Julia, " I consider myself so fully competent to in- 
 vestigate any charge against Mr. Fitzallan, as far as 
 I am concerned," and in saying these words, she 
 east a most expressive look upon Fitzallan, " that 
 I am resolved, Sir Henry, that you shall not be pre- 
 sent." 
 
 " Now, Lady Amelia," said Sir Henry, " is it not 
 your most anxious desire that I should undertake 
 the cause of your friend ?' 
 
 " Indeed, Sir Henry," answered Lady Amelia, 
 *' after the decided and unequivocal manner in which 
 my friend has expressed herself, it would be assuming 
 a privilege which 1 do not possess, to dictate to her 
 in what manner she should act : I therefore decline 
 all further interference in the business. I can only 
 add, that it will give me pleasure to hear from the 
 lips of my friend, that Mr. Fitzallan is worthy of 
 being restored to that high station which he formerly 
 held in her good opinion." 
 
 "Then Mr. Fitzallan," said Sir Henry, "we have 
 at present no further occasion for your company ;
 
 342- FITZALLAN. 
 
 you may return to your cottage, and to your be- 
 loved." 
 
 " Sir Henry," said Fitzallan, " the presence of 
 these ladies imposes upon me, out of respect and 
 delicacy for their feelings, a line of conduct which 
 you may be apt to construe into pusillanimity and 
 cowardice ; but I assure you, plebeian as you may 
 think me, and tainted as you may deem me with dis- 
 honour, you will find that no one yet ever insulted 
 Hector Fitzallan with impunity. I shall return to 
 the cottage, Sir Henry," he added with peculiar 
 emphasis, " and further, I will tell you, that in so 
 doing, I return to an amiable, virtuous, and beautiful 
 female, whom it will be the happiness and pride of 
 my life to protect ; and who, as long as a drop of 
 blood flows in my veins, shall never look abroad in 
 the world, and say she is a friendless being." 
 
 " There — there !" ejaculated Sir Henry, in a tri- 
 umphant tone, " there. Miss Manners ; you have now 
 the confession from his own lips ; after that, talk no 
 more of investigation, examination, and such useless 
 stuff. Come, Lady Amelia," offering her his arm. 
 *' Miss Manners, will you not accompany us ?" 
 
 *' I shall certainly accompany my friend," said 
 Julia ; " but as to any other company, I would rather 
 be without it." 
 
 Fitzallan bowed to the ladies in the most respectful 
 manner ; by Lady Amelia it was returned with the 
 greatest formality, accompanied with a degree of dis- 
 dain, which was too expressive to be assumed ; and 
 Fitzallan now began to fear, that in the heat of his 
 indignation at the conduct of Sir Henry, he had been
 
 FITZALLAN. 343 
 
 loo explicit regarding the fair inmate of the cottage, 
 and consequently that Lady Amelia might have im- 
 bibed a prejudice against him, which no after explana- 
 tion could remove. There were, however, a frankness 
 and cordiality in the parting behaviour of Julia, 
 which led him to augur that in her he would find a 
 faithful and able advocate, and that she might ulti- 
 mately prove the channel by which a reconciliation 
 could be effected. 
 
 " I shall then have the pleasure of seeing you this 
 evening, Mr. Fitzallan," she said. 
 
 " I shall look forward to the hour with the most 
 ardent longing. Miss Manners," said Fitzallan ; 
 and, casting a most expressive look upon Lady 
 Amelia, he added, " the truth will then be established 
 of whom is the injured person." 
 
 Sir Henry hurried Lady Amelia away, muttering 
 some words as he retired, which it was well that Fitz- 
 allan did not hear, or the Baronet would have received 
 some personal chastisement on the spot, which would 
 have taught him that the arm of a plebeian possesses 
 nerve and strength sufficient to punish the effeminate 
 but haughty offspring of nobility, whenever the latter 
 presuming on its fictitious superiority, thinks itself 
 entitled to trample on its supposed inferior. 
 
 Fitzallan stood for some minutes and watched the 
 retiring trio. It was not, however, the attack upon 
 his character which gave him the slightest uneasiness, 
 for that was an evil which he knew could soon be 
 remedied, but the harrowing information had been 
 imparted to him, that in a few days Lady Amelia 
 was to be the bride of another. It therefore became
 
 344i F.ITZ ALLAN. 
 
 his duty, hard and severe as it might prove, to eradi- 
 cate from his heart all remembrance of her ; to speak 
 of her hereafter as some hallowed being-, and from 
 whose association he was to be henceforth excluded, 
 as if there lay in his breath or touch some baneful 
 contamination, some profanation of a holy saint. 
 
 In the delineation of the character of Fitzallan. we 
 draw no " monster which the world ne'er saw," we 
 make neither a devil nor an angel of him ; although 
 virtue may and did predominate in his character, yet 
 he was not without that portion of vice, which is more 
 or less the heritage of every one of the sons of Adam, 
 and we may add also, without giving offence, of 
 all the daughters of Eve. That the conduct of Sir 
 Henry Montfort was well calculated to exasperate 
 Fitzallan cannot for a moment be questioned ; but 
 when it is taken into the account, that that conduct 
 was observed towards him by the individual who, in 
 a few days, was to be the possessor of an object on 
 whom every affection of his soul was fixed, and who, 
 as having taught him what love is, had taught him 
 also to know the greatest bliss of life ; then no wonder 
 need be excited, that with the resentment which 
 Fitzallan entertained towards Sir Henry for his un- 
 gracious and unjustifiable conduct were intermingled 
 some of the darker passions of our nature ; and if 
 hatred and uncharitableness ever dwelt in the bosom 
 of Fitzallan, they v/ere at this moment exercised to- 
 wards Sir Henry Montfort in the fulness of their 
 virulence. It was not the aspersions which he 
 had thrown upon his character, it was not his pre- 
 sumptuous interference in a business which did not
 
 FITZALLAN. 345 
 
 in the least personally concern him, nor his proud 
 and haughty demeanour towards him as an indivi- 
 dual whom he considered to be far his inferior, that 
 in the least excited the resentment or indignation 
 of Fitzallan ; but he had basely and insidiously 
 attempted to ruin him in the good opinion of that 
 being, who to him was every thing, and without whom 
 life itself presented but a dreary blank. On that man 
 therefore he determined to be revenged ; and the 
 means of satisfying that passion now engrossed the 
 whole of his thoughts.
 
 346 FITZALLAN. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 They placed her hand in his, 
 
 They bade her love hira well ; 
 They heeded not the bitter tears 
 
 That on her pale cheek fell. 
 Her mother blamed her childish grief, 
 
 Her father frown'd with pride ; 
 Her lips were mute before their choice, 
 
 But she did not become his bride. 
 
 Gloomy and discontented, his heart racked with 
 various and conflicting emotions, Fitzallan arrived 
 at the cottage. There, in her lonely chamber, with 
 but one friend in the world, and that friend then 
 suffering for his humanity and generosity, sat the 
 daughter of Arnfeld, weeping over the corpse of her 
 child. As Fitzallan entered the room, the transient 
 smile of the grateful heart on beholding its benefactor 
 came over her countenance, like the gleam of the sun 
 through a watery cloud ; but the next moment the 
 fleeting impression was gone, and the dark gloom of 
 a settled grief betrayed the anguish of a breaking 
 heart. Fitzallan took the hand of Maria, and seated 
 himself at the foot of the couch on which the now 
 lifeless infant was lying. He fixed his eyes on its 
 inanimate form, and it was evident that some strange 
 and mysterious feelings were working in his breast.
 
 FITZALLAN. 3-17 
 
 " Thou art happy," he said, "blessed infant, in thine 
 unconsciousness ; it is to a feeling of himself and of 
 his existence that man is indebted for his misery. 
 Weep not, Maria ; but be thankful that thine infant 
 is taken from the world before it knew what that 
 world is : it was the hand of mercy and of goodness 
 that cut its thread of life ; look not therefore upon that 
 hand as thy chastiser, but as thy benefactor." 
 
 " A mother can only tell a mother's feelings," said 
 Maria. *' I looked upon that child as my only solace 
 through life, as the living memento of him whom I 
 once loved so dearly — and thus to lose it ! I thought. 
 I could already read in its lineaments the features of 
 its father, -and as such it would have been doubly dear 
 to me." 
 
 "The prescience of heaven," said Fitzallan, "per- 
 haps saw its future destiny, and in mercy took it to 
 itself" 
 
 " In mercy, then," said Maria, " let it take me 
 also ; for I shall envy my child its quiet in the grave. 
 Oh, that we could be the tenants of the same, that 
 we might sleep our last long sleep together, and our 
 spirits rise in sainted union to plead for pardon for 
 the seducer and the father.'* 
 
 ' The ways of providence are inscrutable," said 
 Fitzallan ; " you know not yet to what you are born ; 
 much may be yet in store for you." 
 
 " Of deep and agonizing suffering, I can well be- 
 lieve," said Maria. 
 
 " Then," said Fitzallan, " would you have your 
 cbild have shared that suffering with you ? Better is 
 it that it is in its grave."
 
 348 FITZALLAN. 
 
 "But amidst that sufFering," said Maria, "it 
 would have been a joy, a consolation to me ; for I 
 should have known that there was one being in the 
 world who loved me." 
 
 " And who, in after life," said Fitzallan, " might 
 have repaid your love with ingratitude and vice. An 
 infant in the sleep of death is an emblem of purity 
 and innocence ; why then wish to see it live — to be- 
 hold the beauteous image disfigured, to see e\Try 
 infant trait destroyed, a spectacle for devils to rejoice 
 over. Weep not, Maria ; thy child is saved, is 
 blessed. Would that that infant's fate had been 
 mine '" 
 
 " 'Tis desolate to be in the world alone," said 
 Maria ; " the being that has nothing to love, nor has 
 a being to love it, is nature's finished outcast ; and 
 who will deny me the title to that name — I had a 
 father — Oh ! but what anguish lies in that one word 
 hadr 
 
 " Ask me not for my reasons now," said Fitzallan, 
 " but in the death of that child I see a brighter pros- 
 pect opening upon you for the future. Look upon 
 this house in the mean time as your asylum ; console 
 yourself with the thought that our good is often 
 worked in secret, and that when we see ourselves, as 
 it were, enveloped in the gloom of misery, on a sud- 
 den from some unexpected quarter bursts forth the 
 light of happiness upon us, and we revel more proudly 
 in the latter, from a remembrance of the sufferings 
 of the former. To-morrow," continued Fitzallan, 
 taking Maria affectionately by the hand, " you 
 shall see me again ; in the mean time, the necessary
 
 FITZALLAN. 349 
 
 preparations shall be made for the interment of your 
 infant. Rest assured, however, that I have very 
 cogent reasons for the injunction which I am now- 
 going to impose upon you. Show yourself not to 
 any one, who on any excuse whatever, plausible or 
 frivolous, may call at the cottage. I shall leave the 
 necessary instructions with Mrs. Gainsford, to whom 
 I will give those candid reasons for my conduct that 
 cannot in any degree compromise her character, nor 
 cause any unpleasant suspicions in her mind. Now, 
 farewell — place your confidence in heaven, and all 
 may yet be well." 
 
 Fitzallan took his leave of the afflicted daughter 
 of Arnt'eld, and after having been closeted for a few 
 minutes with Mrs. Gainsford, he left the cottage to 
 attend more immediately to his own affairs. 
 
 On the arrival of the ladies with their redoubtable 
 champion at home, the Earl, in a jocose manner, in- 
 quired of the latter, how far he had succeeded in 
 punishing the delinquent for the injury which he had 
 inflicted on the heart of Miss Manners? to which 
 Sir Henry replied, '' that it was impossible but that 
 Miss Manners must be highly satisfied with the man- 
 ner in v/hich he had combated her cause, inasmuch 
 as he had finally brought the delinquent to the con- 
 fession, that he was actually engaged in an amour 
 with a beautiful female, and further, that his effrontery 
 extended so far, as in the very presence of Miss Man- 
 ners, to declare that he should immediately return to 
 the cottage and to the society of his favoured fair one.'* 
 
 " And pray, Miss Manners," asked. the Earl, who 
 was no stranger to the weakness of Sir Henrv's cha-
 
 350 FITZALLAN. 
 
 racter, " in what manner did you receive the confes- 
 sion which the Baronet so ably extracted from your 
 inconstant swain ?" 
 
 Julia, who perceived that she was in reality fight- 
 ing the battle of her friend, by encouraging the belief 
 that an attachment did actually exist between Fitz- 
 allan and herself, put on a very doleful countenance, 
 and expressed her hope that the Earl would not 
 banter her on a subject so distressing to her feelings ; 
 but still she could not refrain expressing her regret, 
 that her bold and courageous champion should have 
 exposed himself to the animosity of Mr. Fitzallan, 
 fearing that on her account the affair between them 
 might terminate in a very serious manner. 
 
 " I beg, Miss Manners," said Sir Henry, " that 
 you will dismiss from your mind all fear on my ac- 
 count. In your defence only, as the friend of my 
 dear Lady Amelia, would I have condescended to 
 have held any intercourse with Mr. Fitzallan ; a per- 
 son who, I am informed, knows not who his father 
 was ; for aught he knows, some travelling tinker, or 
 some skipjack of a mountebank in a booth at a fair ; 
 and do you suppose that I, Sir Henry Montfort, the 
 representative of one of the most ancient families in 
 the kingdom, and whose ancestors came to this 
 country with William the Conqueror, having flourished 
 in Normandy or Saxony, I forget which, for above a 
 dozen centuries before, can you imagine for a moment, 
 that I would so far degrade myself as to accept a 
 challenge from such an obscure individual as Fitz- 
 allan ? No, no, when I fight, it must be with my 
 equal in every thing:."
 
 FITZALLAN. 351 
 
 *' Then I am certain," said Julia, " you will never 
 fight at all, for in some things it would be a fruitless 
 task to attempt to find your equal." 
 
 " True, true, Miss Manners," said Sir Henry, 
 who wholly mistook the meaning of Julia's sar- 
 castic remark ; " I thank you much for the compli- 
 ment which you have just now paid me. We men 
 of rank are of a superior race of beings ; and with 
 the common people we stand in the scale of mankind, 
 in the same degree of comparison as, in the animal 
 tribe, the high-mettled racer and the clumsy and la- 
 borious cart-horse. Is not that your opinion, my 
 Lord?" 
 
 " I trust," said the Earl, " that I possess too much 
 liberahty of sentiment to depreciate the character 
 of an individual, merely because he is of plebeian 
 birth." 
 
 *' But, my Lord," said Sir Henry, *' a man who 
 does not know what his father was, and whose whole 
 history appears to be so enveloped in mystery, that no 
 person is able to solve it ; — to stand opposite to such 
 a man in the field of honour would be an everlasting: 
 «tain upon the family of the Montforts, and never 
 shall it be said that I was the first to disgrace the 
 name." 
 
 " I must confess," said the Earl, *' that until this 
 moment I never heard even a whisper derogatory to 
 the character of Mr. Fitzallan ; on the contrary, I 
 have myself often quoted him as an example to my 
 two sons, and indeed to every rising young man of 
 the age; and, as to the mystery respecting his father, 
 on which you appear to lay so much stress, that does
 
 352 FiTZALLAN. 
 
 not tend in the slightest degree to degrade him in my 
 opinion ; there may be very good and cogent reasons, 
 unknown to any of us, for keeping his birth a secret, 
 and in which we have no right to interfere." 
 
 ** Pardon me, my Lord," said Sir Henry, *' for in- 
 terrupting you, but have I not a right to interfere in 
 the affairs of those individuals into whose society I 
 am likely to be thrown ?" 
 
 " No greater right, Sir Henry," replied the Earl, 
 " than they have to interfere with yours. I was, 
 however, going to observe, when you interrupted me, 
 that I have very good reason to believe that General 
 Hamilton is privy to the peculiar circumstances under 
 which Mr. Fitzallan is placed, and I have so high an 
 opinion of the character and virtues of the General, 
 that I am certain he would not take so warm an in- 
 terest in every thing which concerns Mr. Fitzallan, 
 nor be so anxious to introduce him into the very 
 highest circles, if he were not thoroughly satisfied in 
 his own mind that he was richly deserving of that 
 marked attention, both in respect to rank, fortune, 
 and character." 
 
 Lady Amelia could at this moment have thrown 
 her arms around the neck of her father, and have 
 almost stifled him with her kisses, for the warm and 
 unexpected manner in which he had espoused the 
 cause of Fitzallan against the overweening, superci- 
 lious, and haughty demeanour of the Baronet. Nor 
 did the latter expect to hear such an eulogium of this 
 upstart plebeian as had just escaped the lips of the 
 Earl. " Ay, ay," said the Baronet, " this comes 
 all ot the march of intellect, and of reason, as it is
 
 FITZ ALLAN. 353 
 
 ridiculously styled ; we shall soon see all the disciples 
 of that school breaking down the barriers which have 
 hitherto so properly, and so profitably to the general 
 interests of society, existed between aristocracy and 
 democracy, and a man of rank and title, will in a 
 short time be no higher thought of than a Duke or a 
 German Prince would be amongst the Chicksaws in 
 North America." 
 
 *' It has pleased heaven," said the Earl, " to place 
 me in an exalted station in the great family of man- 
 kind ; but you never hear from my lips a single boast 
 of that superiority which I have not acquired by any 
 merit of my own. You may consider the sentiments 
 which I am now going to utter as possessing great 
 singularity, coming as they do from the lips of a 
 nobleman; but after all, what is a nobleman ? a man 
 who is proud of his blood ; proud of his rank ; 
 proud of his riches ; proud of his supposed merit. 
 What is his birth? that which nature has bestowed 
 upon him. What is his rank? that which fortune 
 has given him. What are his riches? that which he 
 has received from his ancestors. And what his merit ? 
 that which his own selflove or flattery gives him. 
 Now, Sir Henry, nobleman as I am, you have heard 
 my definition of that character." 
 
 " I will never copy it into my album," said Sir 
 Henry ; " but I have reason to believe, my Lord, 
 that you have not succeeded in instilling the same 
 sentiments into the mind of my dear Lady Amelia," 
 
 "Word for word," exclaimed Lady Amelia; "I 
 can pardon folly, vanity, prejudice, and self conceit^ 
 in the low, ignorant, and illiberal plebeian, but a 
 
 VOL. T. 2 A
 
 354 PITZALLAN. 
 
 man of rank and title, whose actions do not accord 
 "with the station which he fills in life, who descends 
 to puerilities, and to mean and despicable actions, is, 
 in my estimation, one of the greatest nuisances of 
 society." 
 
 " I agree with you, my dear Lady Amelia," said 
 Sir Henry, " that such a character must be a great 
 nuisance, and the sooner he were scotited from society 
 the better." 
 
 " You have. Sir Henry, spoken some very excel- 
 lent truths, to-day," said Julia, " but as the character 
 ■which Lady Amelia has drawn cannot possibly apply 
 to you. Sir Henry — " 
 
 Apply tome!" exclaimed Sir Henry, "God for- 
 bid I my character stands far above any such impu^ 
 tation ;" but, addressing himself to the Earl, he said» 
 *' I should wish my Lord to take your advice upon 
 one point, which is, this evening an interview is ta 
 take place between Miss Manners and Fitzallan, ex- 
 planatory of his late conduct, do you not think it 
 proper and advisable that I should be present at the 
 interview?" 
 
 " I have heard," said the Earl, " that a third per- 
 son, in certain cases, is a very inconvenient kind of 
 a personage, a sort of officious intruder ; and I must 
 confess, that I do not see any reason why Miss 
 Manners and Mr. Fitzallan cannot settle their httle 
 egaremens da cceur without your interference." ■ , 
 
 " That is a conclusion," said Sir Henry, " to which 
 your Lordship has arrived from an ignorance of the 
 character of Mr. Fitzallan." 
 
 *M thought I informed you just now, Sir Henry ,f
 
 FITZALLAN. 355 
 
 said the Earl, *' that I had reason to believe that the 
 character of Mr. Fitzallan was unimpeachable." 
 
 " So it may be in certain points," said Sir Henry, 
 " but you surely will not exculpate him in regard to 
 his conduct towards Miss Manners ?" 
 
 " I cannot presume, Sir Henry," said the Earl, 
 " to be a judge of that conduct of which I have no 
 circumstantial evidence before me ; at all events, as 
 you have paid me the compliment to ask my advice, I 
 will give it you with the utmostcandour and good will. 
 Considering that a very short time may see you re- 
 lated to my own family, you may most probably have 
 some important matters of your own to arrange ; 
 direct, therefore, your attention to them, and let Miss 
 Manners and Mr. Fitzallan settle their love quarrel 
 in any manner most agreeable to themselves ; and, 
 rest assured, that the chances are a hundred to one 
 in their favour, that, before they part, a complete re- 
 conciliation will ensue ; whereas if you, like some 
 modern Don Quixote, will thrust yourself into the 
 broils of other persons, without either their au- 
 thority or inclination, you will be stigmatized as 
 a common Marplot, and be shunned as the dis- 
 turber of the peace and happiness of your fellow- 
 creatures." 
 
 It is impossible to say how long Sir Henry, from 
 his obstinate and inflexible character, would have 
 prolonged the conversation, had not a servant entered, 
 informing Sir Henry that a gentleman desired to 
 speak to him on very urgent business. 
 
 " Desires to speak to me !" repeated Sir Henry, "that 
 is not a word to which I have been accustomed ! Some 
 2 a2
 
 35B FITZALLAN. 
 
 low, ignorant fellow, I suppose ; tell him, I will grant 
 liim an interview in a few minutes. Desires indeed ! 
 I remember, my Lord," continued Sir Henry, 
 " that when my late sister fell in love with Captain 
 Cholmondely, she also was so obstinate and perverse 
 as to refuse my interference ; the consequence of 
 •which was that he turned out a complete scoundrel 
 to her, and she died of a broken heart." 
 
 " And do you suppose, Sir Henry," asked the 
 Earl, " that your interference would have prevented 
 him turning out a scoundrel, or saved your sister's 
 heart from breaking ?" 
 
 " Most undoubtedly," answered Sir Henry, " my 
 experience and foresight would have penetrated into 
 his snares and stratagems, and I should have stood 
 between my sister and her lover as an obstacle to the 
 consummation of his plans. It is really deplorable 
 that my advice and spontaneous assistance are so 
 often rejected when it is too late : what a world of 
 evil would have been saved had my interference been 
 allowed." 
 
 Sir Henry had launched forth again upon his fa- 
 vourite topic, totally forgetting that a gentleman was 
 waiting to speak to him, and it is probable that he 
 would have continued to annoy the ladies with his 
 empty rhodomontade for some time longer, had not 
 the servant again entered, informing Sir Henry, that 
 the business on which the gentleman had called did 
 not admit of any further delay. 
 
 " God bless me !" ejaculated Sir Henry, *' how 
 remiss in me. Tell the gentleman I will attend upon 
 him instantly."
 
 FITZALLAN. 357 
 
 Sir Henry was on the point of leaving the room, 
 when Juha caught hold of him by the arm, and in a 
 most sarcastic tone, said, " Do give me leave, Sir 
 Henry, to interfere in the business which you have to 
 transact with the gentleman, you cannot form an idea 
 of tlie world of trouble it will save you." 
 
 " Interfere in my business !" exclaimed Sir Henry; 
 *' my dear Miss Manners how could such a bizarre 
 idea enter your mind, that I was not capable of trans- 
 acting my own business ? I assure you I should con- 
 sider it as an insult upon my good sense and general 
 knowledge, were I to allow of the interference of any 
 one in any affair of mine." 
 
 " If he be a friend of yours. Sir Henry," said the 
 Earl, " I beg you will take him into the library, 
 where, I promise, you shall be free from all personal 
 interference." 
 
 " I shall not, perhaps, condescend," said Sir 
 Henry, " to admit him further than the hall ;" and 
 puffed up with all the ventosity of his pride, he left 
 the room. 
 
 '* O I my dear father," said Lady Amelia, throwing 
 her arms around the neck of her father, " save me 
 from being sacrificed to such a contemptible being ; 
 the moment that I become his wife, the knell of my 
 earthly happiness is rung." 
 
 " My beloved child," said the Earl, *' I cannot but 
 confess, that the character of Sir Henry has some 
 very dark and repellent shades in it, but still he is 
 not without his virtues; and when his fortune, the an- 
 tiquity of his family, his expectation of becoming the 
 heir to one of the first dukedoms in the kins-dom are
 
 ^58- FITZALLAN. 
 
 considered, I cannot deny that it is one of the most 
 eligible matches that could have presented itself for 
 you." 
 
 " It is not, however, my dear father, all those ad- 
 vantages which you have enumerated, which can act 
 as an equipoise to that disgust which I have imbibed 
 for his general character. It may, and I believe it 
 does generally happen, that love is not the basis of the 
 majority of marriages in our sphere of life, but at all 
 events there ought to be esteem. It is, however, im- 
 possible for me to feel even that sentiment for Sir 
 Henry ; and what happiness can be expected from that 
 marriage which is based on neither esteem nor love ?" 
 
 " You have had frequent opportunities before to- 
 day, my dear Amelia," said the Earl, " of becoming 
 acquainted with the character of Sir Henry, and it 
 was never my wish to precipitate you into a marriage 
 with an individual of whose character you did not 
 possess some previous knowledge. I own, Sir 
 Henry is not one of those shining prepossessing cha- 
 racters which achieve an immediate conquest over the 
 female heart; but, barring a few foibles, (and where 
 is the individual without them ?) he possesses sterling 
 merit, and under the guidance of an affectionate and 
 indulgent wife, who would know how to check him 
 in the ebullitions of those foibles, that comparative 
 share of happiness might be enjoyed, which although 
 it might not come up to the ideal of a sanguine and 
 romantic expectation, yet on the whole, it might 
 amount to that sum, which is the general lot of a 
 human being," 
 
 " Is not," asked Lady Amelia, " some congeniality
 
 FITZALLAN. 359 
 
 of taste and disposition necessary to constitute a 
 happy marriage ?'* 
 
 •' I grant it is," answered the Earl, " but I do not 
 consider it by any means an indispensable requisite ; 
 on the same principle that in harmonics concord is 
 produced by discord, so I have known in the married 
 state, that a positive degree of happiness has resulted 
 from a contrariety of tastes and dispositions. In re- 
 gard, however, to your marriage with Sir Henry, I 
 regret much that you have suffered such a length of 
 time to elapse before you discovered these objections 
 to your union with Sir Henry, or that, having dis- 
 covered them, you forbore to mention them to me. 
 I see no possibility of our now retracting without a 
 positive infraction of our honour." 
 
 " The day," said Lady Amelia, " that sees me the 
 wife of Sir Henry Montfort, sees me the most mi- 
 serable of human beings ; I may be dragged to the 
 altar, I may be made to promise in the face of hea- 
 ven that which I can never perform, and I shall return 
 to the splendour of rank and opulence with a heart 
 breaking with despair and grief." 
 
 *' Here are tine doings !" exclaimed Sir Henry, 
 bursting into the room, " think only of the presump* 
 lion of the fellow ; that low, insignificant creature, that 
 Fitzallan, has sent one of his coffee-house compa- 
 nions to me, of the name of Campbell, challenging 
 me to meet him to-morrow morning to give him 
 satisfaction for the numerous insults which the fool 
 supposes that I have offered to him to-day — although, 
 at the same time, he most graciously and condescend- 
 ingly informs me, that he is ready to accept of any
 
 360 FITZALLAN. 
 
 apology, which one gentleman ought to make to ai>. 
 other under similar circumstances. Apology ! gen- 
 tleman indeed !" ejaculated the enraged Baronet, " to 
 call upon me, — me, Sir Henry Montfort, Baronet, — 
 to make an apology to a low, obscure individual, who 
 is only worthy to brush my coat or blacken my shoes. 
 Was there ever any thing heard of half so prepos- 
 terous ? it is in reality downright laughable ; a pauper 
 lo challenge a Baronet !" 
 
 *' Allow me to say," said the Earl, as soon as the 
 ebullitions of the Baronet had somewhat subsided, 
 *• that you appear to me to treat this affair with too 
 much levity. My dear Amelia, and Miss Manners," 
 addressing himself to them, " you will, perhaps, 
 under the present circumstances, think it proper to 
 retire ; the subject on which I have now to converse 
 with Sir Henry is not befitting the female ear, and 
 as you cannot but look upon yourselves as the inno- 
 cent cause of this untoward event, it is better that the 
 affair should be settled in a private manner." 
 
 Lady Amelia and Julia immediately rose to leave 
 the room, casting upon Sir Henry a most expressive 
 look of contempt and scorn. Before, however, that 
 Julia could reach the door. Sir Henry approached 
 her, and taking her hand, implored her to stifle every 
 alarm and apprehension, which might arise in her 
 mind as to the result of the challenge of her lover, for 
 he had formed the unalterable resolution of never 
 placing himself on a par with an individual, whom 
 he considered to be so much his inferior." 
 
 " I must have formed a mistaken notion of the 
 character of Mr. Fitzallan," said Julia, " if you do
 
 FITZALLAN. 361 
 
 not ere long discover that he is far your superior ; at 
 all events, let me advise you to get some one to inter- 
 fere for you, or I suspect that the dignity of Sir 
 Henry Montfort will, ere a few hours have passed over 
 his head, be reduced to a very humbled condition." 
 
 *' Humph !" ejaculated Sir Henry, as Julia closed 
 the door ; ** I think Miss Manners is very personal 
 in her remarks, and moreover, she is very ungrateful 
 to me." 
 
 *' Can you be surprised," said the Earl, " at the 
 severity, which accompanies some of her remarks, 
 when you reflect, that you have committed one of the 
 most heinous sins which can be perpetrated towards 
 a female, and especially to one who is in love. Have 
 you not attempted to debase and degrade her lover ia 
 her estimation ? and as to the discovery and disclosure 
 of his infidelity, so far from thanking you for it, or 
 testifying her gratitude for it, depend upon it, you 
 may rely in future upon her most sovereign hatred ; 
 and as to her forgiveness, look not for it in this 
 world ; — but now to matters of greater import. In 
 what manner do you intend to act in this affair of the 
 
 j<;hallenge ?" 
 
 ^ " Can you doubt for a moment, my Lord," said 
 Sir Henry, " as to the decision which I have formed 
 on the subject?" 
 
 " I should conjecture," said the Earl, " that your 
 decision would be to accept the challenge." 
 
 " Eh ' vvhat !" ejaculated the Baronet, " you are 
 joking, my Lord ; accept a challenge from a pauper, 
 from an obscure individual, who, for aught I know, 
 may be some runaway apprentice, or the bastard of a
 
 362 FITZALLAN. 
 
 nightman ! Would you have me so degrade my name 
 and family? would you have me so far lose sight of 
 all the respect which I owe to myself, my connexions, 
 and my friends ? No, no, my Lord, you are but joking 
 on the subject." 
 
 " Indeed, Sir Henry, I am not by any means dis- 
 posed to joke on a subject of so serious an import ; for 
 although you may, in your own conceit, entertain the 
 opinion which you have just now expressed of Fitz- 
 allan, I can assure you, from my own knowledge, 
 that you stand almost single in that opinion ; and 
 therefore the plea of the obscurity of his birth, or his 
 pauperism, will not avail you any thing, nor justify 
 you in the eyes of the world, for not accepting his 
 challenge." 
 
 *' Really, my Lord,'* said Sir Henry, " there are 
 few points to which I would not pay the utmost 
 deference to your judgment ; but in a matter of this 
 sort, where my own personal feelings are to be con- 
 sulted, I must be allowed to act according to the dic- 
 tates of my own discretion ; and those dictates tell 
 me, that I should consider myself degraded in my 
 own estimation, were I to accept a challenge from an 
 individual so far my inferior." 
 
 " It is on that point. Sir Henry," said the Earl, 
 *' that you and I are at issue. It is true that you are 
 in possession of a title and of a princely fortune, 
 neither of which it has pleased fate to bestow upon 
 Mr. Fitzallan ; but you will excuse my candour, 
 when I say that, setting those two advantages aside, 
 I do not see in what respect Mr. Fitzallan is your 
 inferior."
 
 FITZALLAN. 363 
 
 *' What !" exclaimed Sir Henry ; " meet a man as 
 my equal, who, I believe, never saw his father's coat 
 of arms in his life." 
 
 " He may, for all that," said the Earl, '• be an 
 honourable, upright, and virtuous young man." 
 
 " Virtuous, forsooth !" exclaimed Sir Henry ; " do 
 you call that virtue, my Lord, when a young man, 
 by his winning arts, inveigles himself into the affec- 
 tions of a too credulous girl, and then leaves her to 
 dally and toy with another ? and besides, to boast of 
 it also in the very presence of that female, whom he 
 has so basely deceived !" 
 
 " We have as yet," said the Earl, " only heard 
 one version of this affair ; and therefore my expe- 
 rience in life tells me, never to condemn an individual 
 until I have heard what he has to say in extenuation 
 of the charge that is brought against him. There is, 
 however, one part of his conduct in this affair, which 
 fully convinces me, that he possesses the feelings and 
 principles of a gentleman — and that is, that in seeking 
 redress for the insults that he may have received, he 
 is not actuated by any mean spirit of revenge ; for 
 he declares himself disposed to accept of that apology 
 which one gentleman has a right to expect from 
 another on the commission of any personal offence." 
 
 " I make an apology to my inferior !" exclaimed 
 Sir Henry ; " that would indeed be an act of too 
 great condescension on my part." 
 
 " As therefore," said the Earl, " it appears that 
 you will neither accept the challenge nor make an 
 apology, it becomes me, considering the relation in 
 which you may soon stand to me, as the husband of.
 
 3()4 FITZALLAN. 
 
 my daughter, to interpose my interference to prevent 
 a stain being- tlirown upon the honour of any indi- 
 vidual connected with my family ; and under those 
 peculiar circumstances, I think myself entitled to 
 inform you, that your conduct in this business has 
 not tended to exalt you in my good opinion. I shall 
 therefore immediately despatch a messenger to Mr. 
 Fitzallan, requesting him to favour me with an inter- 
 view ; when I make no doubt I shall be able to 
 bring this unpleasant business to an amicable termi- 
 nation." 
 
 " It is also my intention to write to the presump- 
 tuous fellow," said Sir Henry. " The upstart ! to 
 think I should so far degrade myself as to accept his 
 challenge. I suppose the march of intellect will soon 
 teach the scavenger of the streets to challenge a man 
 of rank." 
 
 *' I'll tell you, Sir Henry, what the march of intel- 
 lect will teach that scavenger to do ; which is, that 
 whenever a man of rank unjustly, or without a cause, 
 oppresses or injures him, to treat him exactly as an 
 equal, and so to bespatter him with his mud that his 
 friends should not be able to recognise him. In my 
 opinion, Sir Henry, aristocracy has reached its height 
 in this country, and merit and virtue will soon be the 
 only criteria by which a man will be estimated." 
 
 *' Impossible, impossible, my Lord I" exclaimed 
 Sir Henry. " Rank forms one of the grades of 
 human society; it may be called the Corinthian pillar 
 of it, and ruin will overtake the country whenever it 
 is overthrown. But, for the present, my Lord, I will 
 bid you adieu. Having despatched my answer to the
 
 FITZALLAN. 365 
 
 blusterer, I have an appointment with Miss Gordon, 
 who has requested to see me on some particular busi- 
 ness. Really it is surprising how my time is occupied 
 with the affairs of other people ; not that I by 
 any means intrude myself upon their notice, but in 
 all critical cases, I appear to be their sole refuge ; 
 and I have not the slightest doubt in my own mind, 
 that if Miss Manners would have intrusted herself 
 wholly to my discretion, she would have found ample 
 reason to congratulate herself on the result. An 
 revoir, my Lord." 
 
 " When we meet again," said the Earl, " I hope 
 I shall have agreeable information to communicate 
 to you." 
 
 Sir Henry directed his steps towards the door, 
 when a sudden thought appeared to dart across his 
 mind, and turning sharply round, he said, ''Apropos^ 
 my Lord ; I believe you are personally acquainted 
 with Major Arnfeld." 
 
 " I have known him many years," said the Earl ; 
 *' and a braver or a more honourable man does 
 not exist within the whole circle of my acquaint- 
 ance." 
 
 '' There are some very strange reports," said Sir 
 Henry, " floating about the town respecting his 
 daughter ; it is, however, by no means my disposition 
 to paint the devil blacker than he really is ; but the 
 linger of suspicion points strongly at that fellow, 
 Fitzallan, being the cause of her ruin. It is really 
 lamentable that no one will interfere in the busi- 
 ness : but I suppose, as usual, the task will devolve 
 upon me."
 
 366 FITZALLAN 
 
 " Then," said the Earl, " I am certain, Sir Henry, 
 that it will be entirely your own seeking- ; for from 
 what I know of the parties, I consider them well able 
 to settle their own affairs without the intervention of 
 a third person." 
 
 *' That is a conceit, my Lord," said Sir Henry, 
 *' which fills a number of heads ; and it is the very 
 reason that we see so much mortification and disap- 
 pointment in the world. The rumours are of a very 
 strange complexion respecting Arnfeld's daughter : 
 and in the circle of the gossips it is reported, that she 
 has been obliged to retire to some distant part of the 
 country to bring forth an addition to the human 
 species." 
 
 " And pray, Sir Henry," said the Earl, " may I 
 ask you in what respect that addition concerns you? 
 or what can it matter to you, whether there be a 
 human being more or less in the world ?" 
 
 " God bless me, my Lord !" ejaculated Sir Henry; 
 *' not concern me ! is not every individual more or 
 less concerned in the affairs of the world ? and is not 
 such an event to which I allude of such great import- 
 ance, as to interest every one about it? why the 
 whole history of the world is made up of such events; 
 and the very first thing which we generally wish to 
 know of^ an individual is, where he was born, and 
 what was the condition of his parents, and particu- 
 larly if he possesses the claim of ranking amongst the 
 legitimates." 
 
 " True," said the Earl, who began to grow rather' 
 testy at the frivolous and empty remarks of thi. 
 Baronet ; •' true, true, Sir Henry ; that is one of the
 
 FITZALLAN. 367 
 
 reasons why the world in general is so ignorant and 
 narrow-minded, because it busies itself with trifles, 
 and leaves the solid and the useful to a select few. 
 Show me the pursuits of a man, and 1 will show you 
 the man himself If Newton had busied himself 
 about the trifling incident of the bringing forth of a 
 human being, the power of gravity would perhaps 
 never have been discovered ; and if Watt had con- 
 cerned himself whether the human beinij so brought 
 forth had a right, in consequence of a few words 
 muttered by a priest to its mother, to enjoy all the 
 rights and blessings of legitimacy, the savage on the 
 shores of the Mississippi and the Ganges would not 
 have beheld a giant mass impelled by the power of a 
 caldron o£ boiling water. But I thought you in- 
 formed me. Sir Henry, that you had an appointment 
 with Miss Gordon." 
 
 " God bless me 1" exclaimed Sir Henry, " how 
 very rude and remiss I shall appear to her. But, 
 really my mind is so fertile on some subjects, that 
 when I begin to discourse on them, some fresh hght 
 breaks upon me every m.oment, in which I am so 
 absorbed, that all other matters escape my memory. 
 But I will now take my leave ;" and he proceeded 
 towards the door. Turning, however, suddenly 
 round, he said, " Should Miss Manners change her 
 mind in regard to my being present at her interview 
 this evening with Fitzallan, my services are still at 
 her command. You will perhaps, my Lord, have 
 the goodness to convey those sentiments to her,'^ 
 
 " Undoubtedly," said the Earl. 
 
 *' Not that I should condescend," said Sir Henry»
 
 368 FITZALLAN. 
 
 ^•to hold any conversation with him; therefore I mean, 
 that I should be present as the advocate and defender 
 -of Miss Manners." 
 
 *' Exactly so," said the Earl. 
 
 *' For it is very difficult to say," said Sir Henry, 
 ^' what advantages might not be taken of her inex- 
 perience in the absence of a third person." 
 
 " Very difficult indeed," said the Earl. 
 
 " I have known several instances of that kind," said 
 Sir Henry, " happening within my knowledge." 
 
 *' I always considered your knowledge, Sir Henry," 
 «aid the Earl, " to be very extensive. — But Miss 
 Gordon, Sir Henry." 
 
 *' Dear o' me !" ejaculated the Baronet. '* Adieu !" 
 — and the Earl felt himself relieved from an intole- 
 rable nuisance, as soon as he saw the Baronet fairly out 
 of the room ; so short-sighted, however, are we human 
 emmets, that Fitzallan little thought that his rencontre 
 with Sir Henry Montfort that morning, and the im- 
 mediate consequences resulting from it, particularly 
 the interview between the Earl and the Baronet, should 
 have led the former to the reflection — whether the 
 marriage of his daughter with a man of the narrow 
 and contracted mode of thinking of Sir Henry, and 
 his mind imbued with the most inveterate prejudices, 
 could possibly turn out to be a happy one. It was, 
 however, productive of one good effect, inasmuch as 
 it determined the Earl not to expedite the marriage, 
 and in which resolution he was, in some degree, more 
 confirmed by the resolute opposition which Lady 
 Amelia had herself advanced towards the union. 
 Reflecting, however, that the intended marriage of
 
 FITZALLAN. 369 
 
 his daughter was a matter of public notoriety, he 
 considered that it would be good policy in him to 
 prevent the names of either of them from becoming 
 the subject of public conversation ; and therefore Sir 
 Henry had no sooner taken his departure, than the 
 Earl despatched a messenger to Fitzallan, soliciting 
 as early an interview with him as was consistent with 
 his convenience. 
 
 What, however, were the feelings of Lady Amelia 
 when she heard that perhaps in a few hours, and for 
 aught she knew, the very next, Fitzallan was to be 
 under her father's roof, and at his own particular re- 
 quest and invitation ; but then the all-engrossing 
 subject began to be discussed between her and her 
 friend, as to the motive which could have induced 
 the Earl, her father, to solicit an interview with an 
 individual, with whom he was not connected in the 
 most distant manner in any affair of business or of 
 intimacy; and, with the knowledge that they pos- 
 sessed of the prying, officious, and falsifying character 
 of Sir Henry Montfort, they feared, that in the long- 
 tete-d-tete in which the Earl and the Baronet had 
 been engaged, that the latter, actuated by the spirit 
 of exaggeration, and his carelessness about truth 
 where he wished to establish a point, might have so 
 vituperated the character of Fitzallan, that the Earl 
 himself might consider it necessary to espouse the 
 cause of the Baronet, and to make himself a party in 
 the quarrel which existed between them. 
 
 It must, however, be stated, that there was one 
 person in the family of the Earl in whom the Baronet 
 always found a staunch advocate and friend, and 
 
 VOL. I. 2 b
 
 370 FITZALLAN. 
 
 who had always been an indefatigable promoter of 
 the marriage between himself and Lady Amelia ; 
 and that person was the Countess herself. It was 
 true indeed that her Ladyship was doubly armed in 
 the affair ; for she not only possessed the enviable 
 advantage of noble blood, but by some means, which 
 she was always at great pains to explain, but which 
 few could understand, she, in her opinion, made it 
 distinctly to appear, that the same kind of blood which 
 ran in the veins of King Fergus the First of Scot- 
 land, was actually to be found current in her own ; 
 and although it was very impertinently suggested 
 by some quibbling sceptics, that during the course 
 of so many centuries, the Fergusian blood might have 
 been so much adulterated, as to lose all affinity with 
 the original fluid, yet she positively and resolutely 
 maintained, that any such adulteration was contrary 
 to the course of nature ; and consequently, as the 
 stock from which she sprang could, with all the 
 truth of a Welsh genealogy, trace their descent from 
 the said King Fergus, it followed, as a matter of 
 course, that she stood, in the great menagery of the 
 human species, as a kind of mongrel of royalty and 
 nobility ; and the discussions, deliberations, dis- 
 courses, disputations, and dialogues, which were 
 held between the Countess and the Baronet on the 
 inestimable advantages, and the indisputable supe- 
 riority, which a person combining royalty and 
 nobility in his own person must, does, and will pos- 
 sess over the poor, plodding, pauper plebeian, ought 
 to have been transmitted to the Heralds' College, to 
 l?e incorporated with the ridiculous and unintelligible
 
 FITZALLAN. 371 
 
 mass of rubbish, which is sacredly preserved in that 
 most useless of all our national establishments. A 
 man of rank, who attaches no value to it, united to a 
 woman, who attaches every value to it, must neces- 
 sarily, on every supposed or positive infraction of her 
 dignity, or a wanton departure from the punctilios 
 enjoined upon him by her rank, expect to encounter 
 all the violence, vehemence, and virulence, from his 
 noble spouse, which a certain English Viscountess, 
 bloated with aristocratical pride, is known to inflict 
 on her pliant and docile Lord, whenever he con- 
 descends to acknowledge the salute of one of his 
 tradesmen. 
 
 To the ascendency, or, more properly speaking, to 
 the dominion, which the Countess had succeeded in 
 acquiring over her Lord ; and not only of acquiring 
 but maintaining, is to be attributed the strong footing 
 which Sir Henry still maintained in the Earl's family, 
 and consequently the incessant endeavours, which 
 tvere used by her Ladyship to consummate the mar- 
 riage between her daughter and the Baronet ; for 
 although his name still figured only in the Baronet- 
 age, there existed the most flattering prospects that it 
 would, at some future period, be promoted to the 
 peerage, and that her son-in-law would rank as one 
 of the most ancient of the ducal species. And was 
 this all-cheering, this exhilarating prospect to be 
 looked over? And even supposing that the embryo 
 Duke bordered strongly on the fool, he carried with 
 him the enviable satisfaction, that on his reception 
 into the family of Dukes, he would not appear on 
 that account, by any means as a solitary exception, 
 •2b 2
 
 372 FITZALLAN. 
 
 It must be confessed that an Earl not proud of his 
 Tank is a very strange anomaly in the history of the 
 human species, but in the present case it can be 
 accounted for from the circumstance, that on his 
 entrance into the world the Earl of Glencoe ap- 
 peared on the great stage of it as the son of a 
 private gentleman ; and having been brought up and 
 educated as such, he carried with him through the 
 remainder of his life the principles belonging to that 
 station. At his birth, the prospect of ever arriving 
 at the peerage was so very remote, that he scarcely 
 ever directed his thoughts to it; but the heirs-ex- 
 pectant gradually dropped off, and at the age of 
 twenty-three the title and all the estates belonging to 
 it devolved to him as the heir-at-law. His elevation 
 naturally tlirewhim into a more extended and higher 
 sphere of life, where he accidentally encountered the 
 noble lady with the royal Fergusian blood ; and who, 
 being in possession of no small portion of personal 
 charms, the heart of the young Earl became spifli- 
 cated with love, which in a wry short time terminated 
 in marriage. It must, however, be recorded, that 
 with the exception of the strong views of his lady to 
 the glories and advantages of rank, the Earl had no 
 reason to repent of the choice which he had made ; 
 for in other respects she was an amiable and virtuous 
 woman ; and when it is considered that woman i& 
 in herself one of the most extraordinary compositions 
 of nature, the constituent principles of which, hovyever, 
 we dare not enumerate, the Earl had abundant reasons 
 to congratulate himself, that the woman whom he se- 
 lected as his wife had only conspicuously one blemish.,
 
 FITZALLAN. 373 
 
 As matters however stood, the house of the Earl 
 was divided against itself; and the consequences of 
 such a division are no well known as not to require 
 from us any repetition. To those, however, who are 
 conversant with family affairs, the truth must be at 
 once apparent, that in the direction or establishment 
 of the affections of the daughter, the mother possesses 
 in general a far greater influence than the father. 
 Their domestic avocations, and the similarity of their 
 pursuits bring the daughter into a closer relationship 
 w^ith the mother than the father ; independently of 
 v.'hich, there is something so keen and scrutinizing 
 in the female eye, that a mother will very often dis- 
 cover the wounds that the heart of her daughter may 
 have received; whilst the father, with the usual 
 penetration of a father on such subjects, has placed it 
 in the list of his impossibilities. A mother, in the 
 busy moments of idleness, (for some mothers, espe- 
 cially titled ones, are the most idle when they think 
 themselves the most busy,) when sitting at the work- 
 table, fashioning flounces, furbelows, and fringes, 
 with a young, beauteous, and glowing daughter at 
 her side, will generally touch upon that subject which 
 is nearest to the heart, and in accordance with that 
 sympathy which is the inmate of the female breast, a 
 confidence becomes established, which, for reasons 
 which need not here be mentioned, never can exist 
 between the daughter and the father. To say, how- 
 ever, that a mother, even in the fullest confidence of 
 her daughter, is able at all times to direct her affec- 
 tions, has been so often negatived, that we should 
 he justly accused of gross and unpardonable igno-
 
 374 FITZALLAN. 
 
 ranee of the female heart were we to assert the con- 
 trary. 
 
 It was, however, in consistency with these princi- 
 ples, that the Countess was continually directing the 
 attention of her daughter to the great and manifold 
 advantages which would result to her from her mar- 
 riage with the Baronet, not considering that it was 
 by any means necessary to stop by the way to exa- 
 mine how far the happiness of her daughter could be 
 confirmed by the possession of those moral and 
 amiable qualities, which are such necessary ingre- 
 dients in the composition of a happy marriage. The 
 rank, and the expectation of a still higher one, were 
 the sole objects to which she directed her attention ; 
 and although the sneers and sarcasms which at times 
 escaped from the Earl respecting the number of 
 noodles and doodles who figure away in the world 
 with a title prefixed to their name, might have, and 
 did produce a counter effect on the heart of Lady 
 Amelia, particularly when she thought of one indivi- 
 dual, who was neither in the possession of a title nor 
 in expectation of one, yet it must be confessed, that 
 previously to her acquaintance with that person, she 
 was, on the subject of rank, more disposed to listen 
 to the praises which her mother so incessantly be- 
 stowed upon its beneficial superiority than to the 
 degrading opinion which her father hazarded when- 
 ever the subject came to be discussed between her 
 parents. Love is however a leveller of all rank and 
 dignity ; and whatever lessons parents may teach 
 their daughters on the outward observances of the 
 forms and ceremonies attendant upon the possession
 
 FITZALLAN. 375 
 
 of a title, one word sometimes from the lips of the 
 lover will obliterate every previous impression, and 
 the only condition which is coveted, is that which is 
 occupied by him, and the only rank which is desired 
 is that of his wife.
 
 376 FITZALLAN. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Come away, come away, 
 
 Come away to the masquerade ; 
 
 Where the fair and the brave, 
 
 The gay and the grave, 
 
 Regale us with smishine and shade. 
 
 FiTZALLAN was sitting in his study, pondering on 
 the intricacy of his present situation, and forming 
 to himself the most singular plans for his future 
 conduct, when the following letter was delivered to 
 him. 
 
 " Sir, — In answer to your message delivered to 
 me by a man of the name of Campbell, I will only 
 say, that I will for this time condescend to overlook 
 such a gross act of presumption as that committed 
 by you, in supposing that I could so far degrade 
 myself, as to enter into any hostile conflict with a 
 person of your low condition. You must be well 
 aware, that in regard to each other we stand in the 
 same relation as a piece of brown paper to a bank 
 note ; and I now inform you, ihat if you, after this 
 notice, offer any insult to any female acquaintance of 
 mine, I shall instruct one of my grooms to bestow 
 upon you the requisite quantity of chastisement. 
 " I remain. Sir, yours, &c. 
 
 " Henry Montfort." ^
 
 TITZALLAN. 377 
 
 Fitzallan threw the letter on the table with the 
 utmost spirit of indignation, and his mind was soon 
 made up as to the line of conduct which he should 
 pursue the very first time that he came into contact 
 with the supercilious Baronet, He had, however, 
 scarcely recovered from the resentful feelings which 
 the perusal of such an insulting letter had excited, 
 when a note of a very opposite description was deli- 
 vered to him from the Earl of Glencoe, soliciting the 
 favour of as early an interview as his other engage- 
 ments would permit of 
 
 Fitzallan was startled at the receipt of this note; 
 and he pondered within himself as to the purport for 
 which the interview was requested. He examined 
 the different events which had lately occurred in re- 
 lation to himself, and he could not discover one in 
 which the Earl was interested, or, under any circum- 
 stances, which could be attended with so great an 
 urgency as the tenour of the note seemed to indicate. 
 As to the hostile message which he had sent to Sir 
 Henry Montfort, the Earl was by no means person- 
 ally concerned in it ; but so prone are we to imbue 
 certain acts with bright and favourable colours, ac- 
 cordingly as our wishes direct they should be, that 
 Fitzallan interpreted the note of the Earl to spring 
 from some interference on the part of Lady Amelia, 
 as to the consequences which might result from any 
 hostile meeting of the offended parties ; and he so 
 far gave reins to his fancy, as to suppose that her 
 anxiety arose solely respecting himself, and that it 
 had not the slightest reference to the fate of her in- 
 tended husband.
 
 378 PITZALLAN. 
 
 He hesitated not a moment in complying with the 
 "wishes of the Earl, and in a few minutes he was on 
 the road to his mansion. It is not customary for in- 
 dividuals to burden themselves with a horsewhip, 
 unless they have some equestrian expedition in view ; 
 and therefore it excited the surprise of some of the 
 inmates of Fitzallan's house, when they saw him 
 depart from it with his horsewhip under his arm, at 
 the same time that his dress was at complete vari- 
 ance with that of the horseman. Being asked by 
 Mr. Bode the cause of his taking such an instrument 
 with him, when he avowed that he was not going to 
 mount his horse, he briefly replied, that it was to 
 chastise a particular ass, if it should fall in his way, in 
 order to prevent him giving him any further trouble 
 and annoyance. 
 
 Fitzallan was now opposite the house, the resi- 
 dence of Adeline Gordon, when looking up to the 
 drawing-room window, he espied her in all the volup- 
 tuous negligence of a morning dress, and had not 
 his heart been occupied with the image of another 
 object, it would have been scarcely possible for him 
 to have resisted the dazzling splendour of the charms 
 which nature, in one of her most lavish moods, had 
 so profusely bestowed upon her. The history of the 
 human heart, particularly the female one, will for 
 ever remain a concealed book ; for although many 
 have pretended to read some of the most difficult 
 chapters in it, and have given us, according to their 
 own construction, their correct sense and meaning, 
 yet on a closer examination and analysis, they find 
 that in their previous judgment they were wholly
 
 FITZALLAN. 379 
 
 mistaken, and that the conclusions which they drew, 
 were at utter variance with truth. To read the heart 
 of Adeline Gordon, was far beyond the power of such 
 a tyro on the subject as Hector Fitzallan ; but he 
 was fully conscious of the fascination which surrounded 
 her, and that there were moments, when a tear from 
 her eye would have spoken a language too expressive 
 to be misunderstood, and the result of which would 
 have been a complete overthrow of all the firmness 
 of his nature. Adeline greeted him with all the fami- 
 liarity of the intimate acquaintance ; the compli- 
 ment was returned by Fitzallan, and she had thrown 
 open the window to invite him to a confidential tele- 
 d-tete, when he observed a person approaching him at 
 a small distance, whom he immediately recognised to 
 be Sir Henry Montfort. Adeline, her beauty and her 
 invitation, were instantly forgotten ; the glow of an ho- 
 nest indignation flushed his cheeks, and without any 
 further ceremony, he accosted the Baronet, demanding 
 from him the avowal or the denial of his being the 
 writer of the letter, which he then held in his hand ? 
 
 " I do not consider myself, Sir," said the Baronet, 
 " called upon by any principles of courtesy, to offer 
 an explanation for any part of my conduct, but to 
 those whom I consider my equals." 
 
 " Are you the author of this letter?" demanded 
 Fitzallan, in a bold and peremptory tone." 
 
 " It is a question which I will not answer," said 
 the Baronet, and he made a motion as if to proceed 
 on his way. 
 
 " Stop," said Fitzallan, " you and I have a few 
 more words to say to each other before we part."
 
 380 FITZALLAN. 
 
 *' It is perfectly consistent with the opinion which 
 I have formed of you," said the Baronet, " thus to 
 stop a gentleman of my rank in the open streets.'* 
 
 " As to your rank, Sir Henry," said Fitzallan, " I 
 place no value upon it, and as to the gentleman, I 
 only know him by his conduct. This is, however, 
 useless parleying ; I again ask you, are you the au- 
 thor of this letter?" 
 
 " And I again say," said the Baronet, *' that I will 
 not answer the question." 
 
 " Then," said Fitzallan, applying his horsewhip 
 most lustily over the shoulders of the Baronet, to the 
 laughter and ridicule of many of the bystanders, " I 
 stigmatize you as the writer of it, I denounce you to 
 be a mean and pitiful coward ;" and giving him an- 
 other hearty lash over the shoulders, " I inflict upon 
 you that punishment, which such men of rank, and 
 such gentlemen as you have shown yourself to be, 
 deserve to receive from every individual whom you 
 think yourself entitled to insult on the ground of a 
 supposed inferiority." 
 
 There is, perhaps nothing more galling to the feel- 
 ings of the coxcomb, the etieminate petit-ma'itre, or 
 the bloated simpleton of rank, than to see himself 
 humiliated in the presence of a young and beautiful 
 woman. It denies the existence of that very property, 
 which, from an innate sense of their own weakness, 
 women love most to see in men, and the absence of 
 which exposes them to their contempt and scorn. It 
 generally happens that an exposure of this kind will 
 rouse the frigid spirit of the most confirmed coward, 
 and that rather than see himself degraded in the eyes
 
 FITZALLAN. 3S1 
 
 of a female beauty, he will put on a show of resist- 
 ance and ape the warrior, although no warring spirit 
 be in him. 
 
 Fitzallan stood before the humbled Baronet, with 
 his arms folded, and the smarting weapon in his 
 hand. " Now, Sir Henry," he said, " I am still 
 open to grant you every satisfaction which you 
 may think yourself entitled to demand of me, for 
 my previous or my present conduct. I again repeat 
 it, that I hold you to be a dastardly coward, and that 
 you are a disgrace to the rank which you hold in 
 society." 
 
 " Mr. Fitzallan, Sir," stammered the Baronet, 
 choked with rage, " I say, Mr. Fitzallan, for this 
 unprovoked attack upon me, upon a man of my rank, 
 I shall appeal — yes. Sir — I shall instantly appeal for 
 redress to the laws of my country." 
 
 " There also," exclaimed Fitzallan, *' will I meet 
 you ; but it is only such poltroons as yourself that 
 crouch under the wing of the law, when you have 
 lost sight of every feeling that belongs to a man of 
 principle and honour. You know my address, and 
 I will appoint to-morrow, at eleven o'clock, to re- 
 ceive any message from you, which your wounded 
 dignity, or your oflfended rank, may prompt you to 
 transmit to me." 
 
 " No, Sir !" exclaimed the Baronet, '* the usage 
 which I have just now received is no more than I 
 had reason to expect from one so much my infe- 
 rior ; it is what we persons of rank must submit 
 to from those who are so far beneath us ; it is a 
 kind of penalty that we are obliged to pay for our
 
 382 
 
 FITZALLAN. 
 
 superiority. I know, however, from what quarter to 
 seek for redress, and to that I shall instantly appeal." 
 
 With these words, he burst through the crowd 
 which had collected to view the extraordinary scene, 
 and in a few minutes he was safely sheltered in the 
 residence of Adeline Gordon, into whose presence he 
 was introduced with the most doleful countenance, 
 and with the bitterest complaints of the gross outrage 
 which he had suffered from the hands of a low and 
 vulgar plebeian." 
 
 " Mr. Fitzallan really treated you in a most mer- 
 ciless manner, Sir Henry," said Miss Gordon. 
 
 " And you witnessed the whole of the atrocious 
 attack upon my person?" asked Sir Henry. 
 
 " Most assuredly I did," answered Miss Gordon. 
 " I fear you must experience consi(^erable pain from 
 the effects of his horsewhip?" 
 
 *' Indeed," said Sir Henry, assuming a most do- 
 lorous countenance, " I do feel a very keen smarting, 
 but it is the fate of us men of rank, when we come in 
 contact with the canaille, to suffer every species of 
 indignity. I have been the instrument of exposing 
 the scandalous conduct of the blackguard fellow, in 
 regard to Miss Manners, and now he seeks his re- 
 venge." 
 
 '• To Miss Manners !" repeated Adeline, '* that 
 information is new to me ; I was not aware that any 
 rumours were in circulation of any clandestine inter- 
 course between those parties." 
 
 Sir Henry now proceeded to relate to Adeline the 
 Virhole of the narrative as detailed to him by Monck- 
 ton, and his consequent interference as the champion
 
 FITZALLAN. 383 
 
 of Miss Manners, to rescue her from the machinations 
 of Fitzallan. 
 
 " I much fear, Sir Henry," said Adehne, " that 
 you Avill find that you have been labouring under a 
 great mistake, as to any attachment existing on the 
 part of Miss Manners for Mr. Fitzallan." 
 
 *' That cannot be," said Sir Henry, " for every 
 action denotes that a very strong affection does exist in 
 her breast for the unworthy fellow ; and what stronger 
 proof can be adduced of it, than, when I considered 
 it my duty, as the destined husband of her most con- 
 fidential friend, to interfere in her behalf, and to ex- 
 pose the dishonourable and unprincipled conduct of 
 her lover, she fainted away, and was only recovered 
 by the restoratives which I was despatched to bring to 
 her assistance." 
 
 *' Oh ! what a consummate dupe have you been 
 made!" exclaimed Adeline; "really. Sir Henry, 
 you will excuse my laughing — but I have heard that 
 a female head can always outwit one of your sex ; 
 and I have now before me one of the most convincing: 
 proofs of it — ha ! ha ! ha ! — how the two girls must 
 in secret have laughed at you ; and Fitzallan too, 
 must have looked upon you with a most contemptible 
 opinion." 
 
 " How so? how so?" exclaimed the Baronet; 
 *• how is it possible for any one to entertain a con- 
 temptible opinion of a man of my rank?" 
 
 " A man of rank," said Adeline, " sometimes acts 
 very foolishly ; and I never yet knew that the pos- 
 session of rank carried with it also the possession of 
 \i/isdom."
 
 384 FITZALLAX. 
 
 " Allow me to say, Miss Gordon," said the Ba- 
 ronet, " that when you have mingled a little more in 
 the world, you will see cause to adopt a different opi- 
 nion. But as it is ray intention to appeal to the law 
 for satisfaction for the scandalous indignity which I 
 have just now suffered from the hands of that con- 
 temptible fellow, we will, if you please, enter upon 
 the subject to which this interview immediately refers, 
 as I am given to understand that you have som.e in- 
 formation to give me of a private nature, which ma- 
 terially concerns my future interests." 
 
 *' It is very true ;" said Adeline, *' but you must 
 consider me in this affair as merely the agent of an- 
 other; but who that person is, I stipulate, as one 
 condition to be imposed on you, that you will never 
 call upon me to disclose the name." 
 
 *' It is really surprising," said the Baronet, *' how 
 warmly some persons interest themselves in my be- 
 half ; such is one of the advantages of rank." 
 
 " Pardon me," said Adeline, wh© knew the apti- 
 tude of the Baronet to swallow every dose of flattery 
 that was offered to him, however gross the ingredients 
 might be, ** you have attributed it. Sir Henry, I 
 rather think, to the v/rong cause ; it must be owing to 
 the well-founded regard which they entertain for the 
 virtues and good qualities which you display, in the 
 different transactions in which you have been engaged." 
 
 " As I well know, Miss Gordon," said the Baronet, 
 " that you are by no means disposed to flattery, I 
 must receive that compliment as the genuine impres- 
 sion of your mind.'' 
 
 " You must consider, Sir Henry," said Adeline,
 
 FITZALLAN. 385- 
 
 "what I am now go'mg to communicate to you, as a 
 proof of the truth of the remark which I have just 
 now made. As a preliminary, however, may I be al- 
 lowed to ask you in what character you intend to 
 appear at the General's masquerade." 
 
 *' It was my original intention," said the Baronet, 
 " to have appeared in the character of a cardinal, in 
 order that I might with greater propriety take under 
 my care my dear Lady Amelia, my intended wife, 
 who had fixed upon the character of a nun ; but, for 
 some reasons which I cannot divine, an alteration 
 has been made, and her ladyship now appears in the 
 character of a virgin of the sun." 
 
 *' And is that definitively fixed ?" asked Adeline^ 
 who was rejoiced to have extracted this information 
 from the Baronet. 
 
 " I can assure you that it is positively determined 
 upon," said the Baronet. 
 
 " And your character ?"' asked Adeline. 
 
 " It was suggested to me," said the Baronet, " that 
 a virgin of the sun could not have a more appropriate 
 character to escort her than Rolla, the Peruvian chief, 
 and therefore I selected it." 
 
 " Excellent !" exclaimed Adeline, " you will be 
 able to represent the character to the very spirit of it." 
 
 " Most undoubtedly," said the Baronet, " I have 
 t)btained the play of Pizarro, in order that I might 
 ■ascertain what kind of a character Rolla was." 
 
 " He was,'' said Adeline, " a magnanimous, high- 
 minded, virtuous, glorious character, in fine, he was 
 a hero ; the character of all others the most suitable 
 for you, Sir Henry." 
 
 VOL. I. 2 c
 
 386 FITZALLAN. 
 
 *' Tnie," exclaimed Sir Henry, " he fought for his 
 Cora, as I would do for my Amelia, to the last mo- 
 ments of his life." 
 
 " But I do not recollect," said Adeline, with a pro- 
 voking smile of irony, " that he was ever horse- 
 whipped by Alonzo, his rival." 
 
 " For the best of all reasons, Miss Gordon," said 
 Sir Henry, rather piqued at the uncourteous insinua- 
 tion, " horsewhips were not invented in those days ; 
 independently of which, the comparison will not hold 
 good ; Alonzo was the successful rival of Rolla, but 
 who will presume to rival me in the affections of 
 Lady Amelia? such an event is out of the question 
 altogether; and, therefore, no analogy subsists be- 
 tween the two cases ; but I am certain that I shall 
 make a conspicuous figure in the character of Rolla." 
 
 " Especially," said Adeline, " if you be called 
 upon to enact the battle scene." 
 
 *' Then you shall witness," said Sir Henry, " how 
 the unadulterated blood of my ancestors flows in my 
 veins ; and I will rival in manlihood and daring cou- 
 rage, the exploits of Sir Hubert de Montfort, my 
 great progenitor, who in the battle of Hastings slew 
 three hundred men with his own hand." 
 
 " I remember," said Adeline, " reading that very 
 gallant feat in the travels of Baron Munchausen." 
 
 *' A most worthy and dignified man that Munchau- 
 sen," said Sir Henry; " he was not one of the mush- 
 room dignitaries of the present day, who are one 
 moment amongst their tubs, tea-chests, and butter 
 firkins, and the next strutting away on the stilts of 
 mobility. I knew him well, he was the intimate
 
 FITZALLAN. 387 
 
 acquaintance of my father, I must, however, inform 
 you that he was a Baron of German extraction, but 
 nevertheless, a man on v^hose veracity you could 
 implicitly rely ; for I remember hearing' him tell my 
 father, that although the whole three hundred were 
 left dead on the field of battle, two hundred and 
 ninety five of them were afterwards restored to life 
 by the very seasonable interposition of some Catholic 
 priests ; which circumstance, I can assure you. Miss 
 Gordon, has so prepossessed my mind in regard to 
 the worthy dignitaries of that Church, that the carry- 
 ing of the emancipation of the Catholics through both 
 Houses of Parliament, is mainly to be attributed to 
 the extraordinary influence which I used in a certain 
 exalted quarter, and which has given such an addi- 
 tional celebrity to my name, that will make it for ever 
 conspicuous in the annals of my country." 
 
 During this rodomontade of the Baronet, to 
 which Adeline paid very little attention, or only so 
 much as to augment the contempt, which she had 
 always entertained for him, she was occupying her 
 mind with a scheme, which she had for some time 
 had in view, to ruin Fitzallan in the esteem of the 
 Glencoe family, and thereby to render her own con- 
 quest of him more secure. The Baronet having 
 finished his recital of the intimacy of his family with 
 the celebrated Baron Munchausen of German extrac- 
 tion, Adeline expressed her anxiety to disclose to him 
 the interesting information which she was commis- 
 sioned by a certain lady to communicate to him, but 
 who, for very cogent reasons, did not wish her name 
 to be divulged. " It is such information," said Adeline, 
 2c 2
 
 3S8 JITZ ALLAN". 
 
 " which concerns your future happiness, and for which 
 you will never be able to make sufficient amends to 
 the individual who so disinterestedly comes forward 
 to warn you of the dang-er which impends over you." 
 
 " God bless me !" exclaimed the Baronet, " dan- 
 ger did you say. Miss Gordon? what possible dan- 
 ger can hang over me ?" 
 
 " I can assure you, Sir Henry," said Adeline, 
 *' that a dark and treacherous scheme is now in agi- 
 tation, if my information be correct, and I would dis- 
 close to you my authority, were I not restricted by a 
 solemn injunction of secrecy, against your future 
 happiness, and which if sutfered to be matured, will 
 rob you of that object, to whom you are at present so 
 deservingly attached." 
 
 " I know of only one object to whom I am attached/* 
 said Sir Henry ; " and as to any plan which may be 
 devised to rob me of that, why they might as well 
 attempt to rob me of my rank." 
 
 " Take care, Sir Henry," said Adeline, " that you 
 are not sleeping over a mine, which, in the moment 
 least expected, may blow you to atoms. Be thankful, 
 however, that you have it in your power to ward off 
 the danger, and to discover the individuals who are 
 your secret enemies. Now listen to my instructions. 
 At the masquerade of General Hamilton, look out 
 for a nun of the Ursuline order : it is possible, how- 
 ever, there may be several in that character. In 
 order, however, to avoid all mistake, accost the nun 
 that has a small white rosette on her left side ; from her 
 you will receive some information, which will explain 
 to you many things which you now view in a very
 
 FITZ ALLAN. 389 
 
 opposite light ; and which will prove to you that you 
 are at this present moment one of the greatest dupes 
 that the ingenuity of woman ever made, and by a 
 party to which you attach not the slightest sus- 
 picion." 
 
 " But in what am I the dupe, Miss Gordon?" 
 asked the Baronet ; " surely nothing belonging to 
 my rank." 
 
 " How is it possible for me, Sir Henry," said Ade- 
 line, " to expound to you in what particular you are 
 the dupe. The information is to come from other lips 
 than mine ; and having now fulfilled the commission 
 which was intrusted to me, I have only to request 
 from you, that you will not divulge to any one the 
 purport of our present conversation ; for were it to 
 be even partially known, the consequences might be 
 very injurious to yourself," 
 
 *' Depend upon it," said the Baronet, " I would 
 not divulge it even to my dear Lady Amelia. But 
 can you tell me the costume of an Ursuline nun ; for 
 I have been told that the nuns have as many uni- 
 forms as the English army, and in many respects 
 equally ridiculous and fantastical." 
 
 " The dress of this nun, I am given to understand," 
 said Adeline, *' will be a black shirt, with a wiiite 
 capote and hood, and her rosary, according to tiie 
 injunctions of the pious foundress, will be composed 
 of great and little beads alternately, which are sup- 
 posed to be typical of the great and little sins, which 
 the votary may have committed. But, a propos, Sir 
 Henry, is it true that the Glencoe family have in- 
 terfered in this affair of Miss Manners and Fitzallan ?"
 
 390 
 
 PITZALLAN, 
 
 " It is I, Miss Gordon," said the Baronet, " who 
 have ioterfered." 
 
 " And pray," asked Adeline, " how did Lady 
 Amelia receive the information of the indignity which 
 was offered to her friend ?" 
 
 *' As became her,*' said the Baronet ; " with the 
 utmost resentment ; and when I insisted upon 
 escorting Lady Amelia and Miss Manners to their 
 homes, it is impossible for me to describe to you the 
 contempt and indifference with which both of them 
 turned their backs upon the fellow ; we finally left 
 him standing by himself in the pathway, a spectacle 
 of the most abject humiliation, to return, as he had 
 himself the impudence to declare, to his cottage, and 
 the pretty little dove that inhabits it." 
 
 At this moment one of those susquepedalian knocks 
 with which the party-coloured tribe are taught to 
 alarm a neighbourhood, was heard at the door, an- 
 nouncing one of those fashionable visitors, who 
 wander on a morning from house to house ; and 
 having dropped a certain modicum of slander in one, 
 and picked up a proportionate quantity of the same 
 commodity in another, endeavour to ingratiate them- 
 selves with that particular class of human beings, 
 who fancy that every fault which they can detect in 
 their fellow being, contributes to their own purity 
 and immaculacy. A provincial town is in general 
 the very focus of slander and detraction ; cooped up, 
 as it were, within a given space, the human bipeds 
 jostle each other at every step and motion ; the idle 
 are exceedingly busy in troubling their heads with 
 what does not concern them, and the busy consider
 
 FITZALLAN. 391 
 
 that they should not act up to their reputed cha- 
 racter, if they did not extend their business to every 
 quarter where some information is to be acquired 
 of the latest wounds that have been inflicted on the 
 character of a virtuous and ingenuous female, and the 
 consequent probability of her becoming a mother 
 before a right reverend priest, according to the 
 wholesome and meritorious institutions of civilized 
 life, has received a stipulated sum as the purchase of 
 his permission for a creature of nature to be allowed 
 to follow the laws and dictates of nature. 
 
 To suppose that the very momentous circumstance 
 of Sir Henry Montfort, a man of rank, of opulence, 
 and of consideration, having been horsewhipped in the 
 public streets by a comparatively insignificant indi- 
 vidual, should not have set all the tongues of the 
 town agog, can only be disbelieved by those who 
 have escaped the misfortune of having been the 
 residents of a provincial town, and who consequently 
 cannot form any idea of the avidity with which such 
 an extraordinary and highly important event is 
 gathered up by the coterie of scandal-mongers, male 
 and female, which form no small portion of what is 
 technically called polished society. Now, whether Sir 
 Henry had a presentiment that the aforementioned 
 sonorous knocking at the door proceeded from one 
 of those itinerant scandal-mongers, eager to convey 
 to one of the ruling beauties of the town the tidings 
 of his degradation, cannot positively be decided as a 
 fact, but it is certain that he was swayed by some 
 sudden impulse ; for, bouncing from his chair, he 
 waited not for the announcement of the new visitor.
 
 392 FITZALLAN. 
 
 but hurried out of the room, as if the intelligence had 
 been brought him that a messenger had arrived from 
 the Heralds' office, that emporium of absurdity and 
 of libels on the creations of God, announcing to him 
 that the bloody hand was in future to be erased from 
 his coat of arms. 
 
 On descending the stairs, Sir Henry met one of 
 those antiquated, restless, and insufferable nuisances, 
 ycleped an old maid, who, being shut out against 
 her will from some of the dearest joys of human life, 
 sallies forth, like the animal of holy writ, from morn 
 to night, marring the bliss and happiness of others, 
 and founding the little that she can herself enjoy on 
 the wrecks and fragments of the hearts that she has 
 destroyed. 
 
 Let the reader (and he may be allowed the most 
 exuberant imagination with which a mortal was ever 
 gifted) fancy to himself the worthy Baronet descend- 
 ing the stairs leading from the drawing-ro.om of 
 Adehne Gordon ; and let him further fancy at the 
 same time, exactly in the middle of the flight of the 
 said stairs, the Baronet meeting a good, portly, wad- 
 dling, Daniel Lambert-like personage, on her head 
 one of those extraordinary funguses of fashion, those 
 ridiculous and unbecoming abortions of a vitiated 
 taste, which England's beautiful women are content to 
 receive from their milliners at the expence of the total 
 disfigurement of their angel faces ; let the said lady 
 be further equipped with those monstrosities, the 
 invention of some hater of the symmetry and beauty 
 of the female form, known in the hemisphere of 
 fashion, and particularly amongst the late worthy
 
 riTZALLAN. 393 
 
 epicure Dr. Kitchener's favourites — namely, the 
 cooks, as the leg of mutton sleeve, and thence ascend- 
 ing from the kitchen, appears as a protuberance on 
 either side of the tenant of the drawing-room, like 
 two huge bladders, which only require a little aid 
 from one of the gas companies to be so inflated, that 
 from their extreme buoyancy the wearer may dance 
 with the fictitious agility of the Fantoccini. Let the 
 reader further fancy, that the stairs were exactly of 
 those dimensions which are to be found in some 
 modern edifices, in which it was never intended that 
 two lovers should walk abreast, but that they should 
 follow each other like geese, in lineal succession^ 
 Let him fancy these things, and then he will have a 
 correct conception of the awkward predicament in 
 which Sir Henry found himself on meeting a lady of 
 such portly dimensions, natural and artificial, on 
 such a staircase, on which politeness dictated to him 
 to retrograde, in order to allow the advance of the 
 ascending mass, or to push on, pell mell, until she of 
 the fungus hat and of the leg of mutton sleeve was, 
 by the action of the descending force, that is, by Sir 
 Henry himself, propelled to the very lowest step from 
 which she had originally set out. Neither of these two 
 possible cases however took place. The Baronet 
 stood still, and the lady stood still also ; the Baronet 
 unable to pass the lady, and the lady unable to pass 
 the Baronet. We know not what Yorick, " that in- 
 finite jester," would have made of this scene ; he 
 would have given to it all the rich colouring of his 
 inimitable fancy ; and in his way of laying on his 
 colours, the Methodist would doubtless have spitten
 
 394 FITZALLAN. 
 
 the blackness of his venom upon him ; and the CaU 
 vinistic Styhte, m the spirit of his intolerance and 
 bigotry, would have loaded him with all the vitupe- 
 ration and supercilious scorn for which his sect is so 
 distinguished. With such people, however, we pro- 
 fess not to have, nor wish to have any thing to do. 
 We can only say, that we compassionate those who 
 have undergone the misfortune to have taken up their 
 abode contiguous to a Methodist or a Stylite ; (we are 
 personal in the latter case for very cogent reasons ;) 
 for harmless mirth to them is dissonance, and a 
 display of liberal sentiment and an enlarged mode of 
 thinking, which will not be biassed by antiquated 
 prejudices and empty ceremonies, are by them con- 
 verted into a heinous offence offered to their usurped 
 superiority, and their sectarian pride and sanctity. 
 
 We beg pardon, however, of two of the characters 
 of this authentic exhibition of human life ; for whilst 
 we have for a moment condescended to occupy our- 
 selves with the rubbish of sectarianism, we have left 
 Sir Henry Montfort and his female acquaintance 
 standing opposite to each other on the stairs ; the 
 lady very naturally looking up to the gentleman, 
 and the gentleman, equally naturally, looking down 
 upon the lady ; and in truth it'must be spoken, that the 
 Baronet did look down upon the lady in more senses 
 than one, for she happened to be the spouse of a mem- 
 ber of a certain class of men on whom courtesy bestows 
 the title of gentleman, forgetting to remember at the 
 same time that there are few men of his caste who 
 by the general character of their actions deserve the 
 epithet which is given to them. Mrs. Jonathan Doe
 
 FTTZALLAN. 395 
 
 was the wife of an attorney ; that is, of a man who 
 lives by the quarrels and htigious spirit of his fellow- 
 creatures, and whose interest it is to foment those 
 quarrels, although he thereby renders himself the 
 counterpart in villainy and rascality ; and further it 
 must be mentioned, that the name of Jonathan Doe 
 had on a certain occasion appeared conspicuously at 
 the back of a strip of parchment addressed to the 
 sheriff of a certain county, in which the said sheriff 
 was commanded to take into custody the body of 
 the said Sir Henry Montfort, on a plea of trespass 
 done to one Obadiah Jenkins ; and for which tres- 
 pass the aforesaid Sir Henry had to pay to the 
 aforesaid Jonathan Doe, for the use and benefit of the 
 aforesaid Obadiah Jenkins, the sum of thirty pounds 
 principal money, and interest; and for his own lega- 
 lized plunderings, called costs, the further sum of forty- 
 two pounds, thirteen shillings, and fourpence. That 
 the wife of Mr. Jonathan Doe, associated as the name 
 was with some very unpleasant feelings on the part 
 of the Baronet arising from the above transaction^ 
 should receive from him any courtesy or politeness 
 could not rationally be expected, except by those 
 cringing, fawning, slavish, and pitiful cast of crea- 
 tures, who, partaking of the nature of the spaniel, 
 fawn upon their oppressors in proportion as they are 
 treated with indignity and severity. Thus we have 
 considered it due to the character of Sir Henry 
 Montfort, who by his rank and station in life ought 
 to have been in possession of the manners of the 
 finished gentleman, to account for his want of polite- 
 ness in not retracing his steps, and allowing Mrs.
 
 396 FITZALLAN. 
 
 Jonathan Doe to ascend to the first landing, where 
 they could have carried on the tete-a-tete as hereafter 
 described with all the urbanity and decorum apper- 
 taining to their respective characters. It has been 
 said, (but that is no positive reason why it should be 
 true,) that a man is not bound to give more than one 
 good and substantial reason for his actions ; to the 
 great credit of Sir Henry Montfort it must however 
 be stated, that he was enabled to give two ; and 
 therefore, according to the arithmetical ratio, he has 
 a double claim upon our esteem and regard. The 
 very position in which Sir Henry was placed obliged 
 him to look down upon the attorney's wife. For that 
 obligatory act no blame can be imputed to him, but 
 then, can the same exculpation be offered for him on 
 account of the spirit which actuated him to look down 
 upon the attorney's wife as so far beneath him, not on 
 the steps of the stairs, but in point ofrank and condition ; 
 he a Baronet, the heir-expectant to a dukedom, and 
 she — what was she ? a pettifogging attorney's wife ; 
 and consequently, in his eyes, as only one degree re- 
 moved from the very canaille. If, however, there be 
 one act more than another which arouses the inflam- 
 mable spirit of aristocratical pride, it is, when an in- 
 ferior presumes to address the titled superior with all 
 the familiarity and freedom of the equal. 
 
 " God bless me !" exclaimed Mrs. Doe, still standing* 
 on the middle of the stairs, with one hand leaning on the 
 banisters, "you cannot think. Sir Henry, how glad I 
 am to see you ; I heard that you were almost killed.'* 
 
 " Killed, ma'am !" repeated the Baronet. " I am 
 mot aware what can have given rise to such a report.'*
 
 FITZALLAN. 397 
 
 "' Well ! I declare," said Mrs. Doe, " there is 
 scarcely believing any Ihing we hear. I just now 
 called in to see my friend, Mrs. Fig-gins, the grocer's 
 wife — I believe you are acquainted with her, Sir 
 Henry?" 
 
 " A grocer's wife 1" exclaimed Sir Henry, highly 
 indignant, " I am not in the habit, madam, of asso- 
 ciating with such low bred people ; you will perhaps 
 allow me to pass you, ma'am." 
 
 " It was Mrs. Figgins who told me,'' said Mrs. Doe, 
 paying no attention to the request of the Baronet, 
 •' that you were nearly killed. But, dear o' me, 
 Sir Henry, it was a sad business for you to be 
 so ill-used ; to be kicked and thumped as you have 
 been." 
 
 " Madam !" exclaimed the Baronet, who made a 
 motion to extricate himself from his dilemma, "I am 
 ignorant of ever having been kicked or thumped ; 
 but really we are now trespassing very unbecomingly 
 on Miss Gordon's hospitality." 
 
 " I thought," said Mrs. Doe, "that I would just 
 drop in and make some inquiries of Miss Gordon 
 respecting you. Sir Henry. I can assure you your 
 late mishap, Sir Henry, is the talk of the whole 
 town : go where I will, the first inquiry is — Have 
 you heard of this unpleasant affair of Sir Henry 
 Montfort? — But I hope you intend to punish the 
 audacious fellow. Ah ! if the business were but in 
 my husband's hands, he would make him smart for 
 his misdoings. But I suppose. Sir Henry, you found 
 considerable relief from the bleeding?" 
 
 " Bleeding !" ejaculated the Baronet, who was
 
 398 FITZALLAN. 
 
 now beginning to lose all command of his temj5er, 
 " I've never been bled at ail, madam." 
 
 *' Ah ! true," responded Mrs. Doe, "it was not cer- 
 tain, according to the report, whether you were bled 
 or blistered ; but I suppose. Sir Henry, you still feel 
 the soreness of the bruises." 
 
 *' Bled, blistered, and bruises 1" exclaimed Sir 
 Henry ; " it is a great pity that people will not 
 attend to their own business, and cease to interfere 
 with mine. I have no bruises about me, madam." 
 
 " I assure you, Sir Henry," said Mrs. Doe, 
 " since the time that Miss Janet Sallows committed 
 the faux pas with young Squire Higginbottom, I 
 know of no circumstance which has made a sfreater 
 noise in the town than this outrageous attack upon 
 your person. And pray, Sir Henry, what do you 
 intend to do about it? Do you mean to indict him for 
 an assault ? or do you intend to return the compli- 
 ment the first time you meet him? or perhaps, more 
 likely, and more consistently with etiquette, you'll 
 call him out? O dear o' me! v/hat will the town 
 say if one of you be killed ; or if you should lose 
 Only an arm or a leg." 
 
 " I wish you had lost your tongue," said Sir 
 Henry to himself; but to the questions of the gar- 
 rulous Mrs. Doe, the Baronet found himself in the 
 same situation as the worthy brewer of Chiswell- 
 street, when the great monarch of the greatest 
 kingdom of the world so overpowered him with his 
 long chain of questions, that the brewer exclaimed 
 
 May I be curst 
 
 If I know which to answer first.
 
 FITZALLAN. 399 
 
 " Mrs. Doe — madam," said the Baronet, putting 
 one of his feet on the same stair on which the lady 
 was standing, *' I — I — .*' 
 
 " And pray. Sir Henry," said Mrs. Doe, stopping 
 closer the avenue by which the Baronet hoped to 
 escape, '* is it true that this whole business has arisen 
 on account of a rivalship for the hand of Lady Amelia 
 Fortescue ? if so, I am not at all surprised at what 
 has happened ; but I assure you, Sir Henry, if I can 
 be the means of rectifying any error, which may 
 have gone abroad respecting the transaction, you 
 may command my services to their full extent. I 
 have no doubt the affair will be the sole theme of 
 conversation at Mrs. Snitterling's rout this evening; 
 and it is a great pity. Sir Henry, that a falsity should 
 be circulated, to the detriment, perhaps, of your 
 character ; when, if you will give me a statement of 
 the real particulars, I shall be able to quote your own 
 authority for the refutation of the scandalous reports." 
 
 During this harangue of Mrs. Doe, the Baronet 
 had contrived to gain a footing for his other leg on 
 the stair, and the dialogists now stood in that posi- 
 tion to each other, that had it pleased the Baronet, 
 he might have thrown his arms round the neck of 
 Mrs. Doe, and, but for the intervention of the fun- 
 gusian hat, have impressed a warm salute on her 
 cherry lips ; but as it was, the Baronet did no such 
 thing. Then it may with propriety be asked — What 
 did he ? He saw the cheering prospect of emanci- 
 pation before him ; he saw himself delivered from 
 one of the greatest plagues that the world knows— 
 the tongue of a silly, garrulous woman.
 
 400 FITZALLAN. 
 
 *' I am, however, Sir Henry," said Mrs. Doe, " truly 
 rejoiced to see that you have escaped so well, and that 
 you have been neither bled nor blistered, and as to 
 your bruises — my grandmother — " 
 
 " D n your grandmother," said Sir Henry, 
 
 muttering to himself, as he made a kind of hop, skip, 
 and jump down the remainder of the stairs, to the no 
 small discomfiture of Mrs. Doe, who was on the 
 point of imparting to the Baronet her grandmother*s 
 prescription for bruises, as well as to the great de- 
 light of Adeline Gordon, who had overheard the 
 whole of the dialogue, and who secretly enjoyed the 
 humiliation to which the Baronet had been exposed. 
 To relate the subsequent conversation between Mrs. 
 Doe and Adeline, would be merely a stale repetition 
 of a scene that has been a thousand times repre- 
 sented, and will continue to be represented as long 
 as a particle of curiosity remains in the composition 
 of woman, which is equivalent to saying, as long as 
 the world exists ; it was merely an inane, senseless 
 intermixture of inquiry and conjecture, of question 
 and rejoinder ; of detraction on the one side, and 
 justification on the other ; and they at length sepa- 
 rated, neither of them a jot the wiser, nor a tittle the 
 better informed on any point which had come under 
 their discussion.
 
 fitzallan/ 401 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 All thoni^hts, all passions, and delights, 
 Whatever stirs this mortal irame, 
 
 All are but ministers of love. 
 And feed his holy flame. 
 
 Fitzallan having administered to the Baronet 
 quantum siiff. of corporeal castig-ation, very dehbe- 
 rately, and in complete satisfaction with himself, 
 directed his steps to'.vards the abode of the Earl of 
 Glencoe. We have before ventured to express our 
 opinion, that chance has a great deal to do in the 
 affairs of this world, for which opinion, we know, v/e 
 subject ourselves to the anathemas, hatred, and per- 
 secution of a horde of insignificants, who abuse the 
 reason which their bounteous Creator has given them 
 by adhering to a belief that one is three and three is 
 one, but noii magna comjjonere jmrva — which in 
 EngUsh may be rendered, not to compare great things 
 with small, or, according to another version, not to 
 compare a blockhead with a wise man ; that is, a 
 Methodist ranter with a Lawrence, or a Brixton 
 Stylite with a Byron or a Shelley. Taking, there- 
 fore, our own principles for a guide, we declare that 
 it was the effect of chance, and of chance only, that, 
 
 YOL. I. 2d
 
 ^2 FITZALLAN. 
 
 at the precise moment when Fitzallan was com- 
 posedly approaching the house of the Earl of Glencoe, 
 Lady AmeHa and her friend Julia should be just 
 standing at that particular window, which com- 
 manded a full and uninterrupted \'few of every ob- 
 ject seeking ingress into the house, and at the same 
 time, that it could not be conjectured, that any spe- 
 cific purpose attracted them to that identical spot. 
 
 There was, however, one trait in the character of 
 Fitzallan, of which few of his associates were aware, 
 much less a fond affectionate girl, who, like the ma- 
 jority of her sex under similar circumstances, never 
 troubled her head with a cold analytical examination 
 of the character of him, for whom her heart pleaded 
 so warmly, and even over whose vices that same affec- 
 tion would have rather thrown the veil of conceal- 
 ment, than have contributed to their exposure ; yet 
 with all this forbearance, this grateful partiality, 
 which renders woman so doubly dear to the heart 
 that knows how to appreciate her virtues, and which 
 throws, as it were, a mellowed light over the gloomy 
 path of human life, where is the female that under 
 the influence of those feelings has not been led astray, 
 and suddenly awakening from her wanderings, has 
 not wished that all was but a — dream ? 
 
 We have, however, digressed from exposing a 
 trait in the character of Fitzallan, to that of exposing 
 a trait in the character of woman, and we are certain 
 of not being thanked for the latter, favourable and 
 complimentary as it may appear, for its very favour 
 and its compliment partake of weakness ; and as far 
 as our experience extends, we have uniformly found.
 
 PITZALLAN. 403 
 
 that a female would rather have her vices exposed, 
 tlian her weaknesses. 
 
 To elucidate, however, this hidden trait in the 
 character of Fitzallan, it must be mentioned to be 
 that particular one, of which few breasts are destitute, 
 but which, like all other passions, exhibits itself in a 
 greater or lesser degree, according to the enthusiastic 
 or phlegmatic constitution of the individual ; con- 
 densing, however, that passion in a few letters, it may 
 be designated as pride. Nevertheless, we acknow- 
 ledge it in some respects to be the parent of all that 
 is great and noble in the human character ; for where 
 there is pride, there is ambition, and without ambi- 
 tion, man is a mere machine without a propelling 
 power, from which no work of excellence or merit 
 can be expected. Let it not, however, be considered 
 that by pride we mean that display of peacock haugh- 
 tiness with which the flaunting dame ambles down the 
 aisle of the church or conventicle, to display her 
 gaudy attire to the occupants of the surrounding 
 pews, delighted if every eye be directed towards her 
 in envy of her fashionable gewgaws — no, we mean 
 that pride of the soul, arising from a consciousness of 
 internal merit, that dignified sense, if we may so ex- 
 press it, of ourselves, and which, upon the same prin- 
 <.'iple that it will not overlook an insult offered to its 
 own dignity, is particularly cautious and circumspect 
 in what manner it offends the same feelings in others. 
 
 Strong and deeply rooted as was the affection of 
 
 Fitzallan for Lady Amelia, and solicitous as that 
 
 affection might be to throw over all her actions the 
 
 palliating hue of indulgence and forbearance, yet 
 
 2d2
 
 404 fitzallan/ 
 
 when pride comes into collision with love, the con- 
 test is generally severe, and in some instances the 
 former has been known to carry off the victory. 
 The manner in which Lady Amelia had conducted 
 herself towards him at their last interview, had, with 
 the consciousness that it was unmerited, inflicted a 
 deep and galling wound upon his pride ; he felt himself 
 humiliated by the very nature of the charge that had 
 been raised against him, and the credulity with which 
 Lady Amelia seemed to receive all the evil reports 
 against him, confirmed him in the opinion that a 
 change had taken place in her heart towards him, 
 and that the coldness and indifference with which she 
 treated him were not assumed, but were the genuine 
 display of her actual feelings. 
 
 When, therefore, Fitzallan beheld the ladies stand- 
 ing at the window, and a smile on each of their 
 countenances, instead of the frown of haughty dis- 
 pleasure so peculiar to the female face under the in- 
 fluence of resentment for some supposed offence, the 
 wounds of his offended pride burst out afresh, and 
 so far from returning the smile, he saluted them with 
 the most distant formality, such as would become an 
 acquaintance of yesterday, not one whose hand he 
 had pressed, and who had pressed his in return. 
 
 We will not utter, a libel against woman, at whose 
 shrine we bend our knee in fervent gratitude as the 
 bestower of the greatest happiness of which this 
 world can boast, but, after all, woman is a most 
 extraordinary compound : to find a resemblance for 
 her in the earth, on the earth, or above the earth — 
 though, perhaps, in heaven it is to be found — were
 
 FITZALLAN. 405 
 
 one of those tasks as difficult as that of the alche- 
 mist, who, from his combination of heterogeneous 
 substances, flattered himself that he could produce^ 
 the most precious metal of the world. We will not 
 attempt to analyze the feelings of Lady Amelia 
 when she observed the repellent and distant conduct 
 of Fitzallan, but which, if she had dared to examine 
 according to their real origin, she would have fallen 
 at once upon the discovery of the full extent of the 
 affection whic"h she entertained for him. Consist- 
 ently, however, with the opinion which M'e have ven- 
 tured to hazard touching- the constitution of the 
 female character. Lady Amelia no sooner beheld her- 
 self the apparent object of indifference to Fitzallan^ 
 than the whole spirit of the woman burst forth ; she 
 took a retrospective view of her behaviour towards 
 him ; it was found by far too harsh and severe ; she 
 had treated him as culpable upon the mere repre- 
 sentation of another, and that person well known to 
 be the slave of prejudice, and a willing tool of the 
 dastardly calumniator. She had, as it were, in the 
 moment of pettish irritation (and there is no indivi- 
 dual more prone to that feeling than a g-irl in love) 
 interposed a barrier between any future course of in- 
 timacy between them. She had mounted the stilts 
 of feminine resentment, and with the love of power 
 so natural to the female breast, she expected that her 
 slave would throw himself at her feet, and entreat a 
 restoration to her favour by a promise of amendment 
 for the future, accompanied with the most fervent 
 protestations of his unalterable love. Oh ! there is 
 nothing more grateful to the female heart, than the
 
 406 FITZALLAN. 
 
 realization of such a scene ; at that moment the 
 world appears to her as her own, herself the ruling di- 
 vinity ; she feels the supremacy of her power, and in 
 the blessed moments of reconciliation (and who that 
 has enjoyed those moments but would wish to en- 
 joy them o'er again) she may exclaim with the great 
 German poet, 
 
 Ich habe genossen das irdisches gliick 
 Ich habe gelebt und geliebt.* 
 
 But when she is doomed to experience the contrast, 
 when resentment is met by resentment, when the 
 dreadful image starts before her, tracing in characters 
 too distinct to be misunderstood " I have, perhaps, 
 lost him," then shines forth the real woman ; the 
 counterfeit is laid aside ; the heart then becomes the 
 officious tell-tale of its smothered feelings, and a tear 
 starts into the eye with all the intrusion of the un- 
 bidden guest. 
 
 So stood it with Amelia Fortescue ; she, in the 
 plenitude of a woman's feelings, fully anticipated 
 that the smile which sat on her angel countenance, 
 indicative almost of an oblivion of the past, would be 
 met by a corresponding smile, and that it would be 
 returned with all the joyfulness of a first and life- 
 blood passion. And then she thought (and what 
 thought more harrowing to the female breast) that 
 he, perhaps, loved another ; that by her own con- 
 duct she had, perhaps, bound him stronger to that 
 being, and that they were henceforth to be alienated 
 
 * I have enjoyed the bliss of earth, 
 
 I have lived and I have loved. Schilkr,
 
 FITZALLAN. 407 
 
 from each other, and she to be in the world as some 
 restless spectre of a murdered love ; she looked ai; 
 him ag^ain and again, in the full spirit of an offended 
 pride, he appeared to divert his attention from all 
 surrounding objects, and strode stately forwards, as 
 if with the formal return which he had made to the 
 greeting which he had received, he had done all 
 which could be expected from him, and that he had 
 no further inclination to exceed the bounds which 
 formality or ceremony prescribed to him. 
 
 This was a decisive moment for Amelia ; she had 
 for some time struggled against the conflict of feel- 
 ings which assailed her, but she was obliged to yield 
 at last, and throwing her arms around the neck of 
 Julia, she burst into a flood of tears. At this mo- 
 ment the Countess entered the room, eager to con- 
 vey the information of the unexpected visit of Fitz- 
 allan, and discuss the question, as to the motive 
 which could have impelled him to such an extraor- 
 dinary step, the Earl having, for certain reasons best 
 known to himself, refrained from apprizing the 
 Countess of his message to Fitzallan, and conse- 
 quently it was her belief, that Fitzallan's visit was 
 an act on his part entirely spontaneous, and con- 
 nected solely with his own affairs. When a mother, 
 however, sees a daughter in tears, an alarm imme- 
 diately takes rise in the maternal breast, that there is 
 some secret worm gnawing at the heart, the ravages 
 of which are the most dangerous, because they are 
 carried on under the covert of disguise. On the 
 other hand, there is not anything of which a daughter 
 has a greater dread, than the scrutinizing eye of the
 
 408 FITZALLAN. 
 
 mother in any affair in which the heart is concerned, 
 and under the present influence of her feelings, 
 her mother was, perhaps, the last person whom 
 Lady Amelia would have wished to intrude herself 
 into her presence ; but the part now to be enacted 
 was one of great difficulty. A cause was to be given 
 for those tears, and of all possible causes, where is 
 the girl under the circumstances in which Lady 
 Amelia was placed, who would not fix upon any one 
 than the real one. A female has always certain 
 weapons peculiar to her sex wherewith to carry on 
 the contest in which she may be engaged, and one of 
 the most powerful and certain of success is artifice. 
 It must, however, be considered that female artifice 
 is not always dissimulation, but on the other hand, 
 dissimulation is always female artifice, or at least, it 
 is the nurse of it. It may not indeed be positively 
 stated that dissimulation is a real failing of the fe- 
 male character, for perhaps it may be owing to edu- 
 cation ; but nevertheless, it is certain that by female 
 dissimulation, nauseous as may be the truth to digest, 
 the whole of the male sex are governed ; although 
 it be most pompously and arrogantly affirmed that 
 they do not believe themselves subject to any such 
 government, still, however, it is not to be disputed, 
 that artifice with beauty combined composes the om- 
 nipotence of the female sex. 
 
 The Countess at first entreated to know the cause 
 of her daughter's tears, for as far as the domestic rela- 
 tions, extended, she was not aware of any event having 
 taken place within the house which could give rise to 
 Buch an effusion of sorrow, and therefore, the only
 
 FITZALLAN. 409 
 
 plausible construction that could be put upon it was, 
 that her feelings had been wounded from some private 
 quarter, which the artifice of her daughter had kept 
 concealed from her. It frequently happens that an au- 
 thorized or officious inquisitor into the actions of others, 
 will in their examination of the causes of those actions, 
 supply the delinquent with the very materials which 
 were wanting for the defence, and which, perhaps, 
 her own ingenuity would not at the time have ever 
 hit upon. Thus, when the Countess had urged every 
 plea which her maternal solicitude could devise, 
 when she had appealed to Julia, as the bosom friend 
 and confidant of her daughter, to disclose to her the 
 cause of her daughter's grief, and still found the 
 former pertinaciously silent, and the latter obsti- 
 nately ignorant, she unconsciously opened a loophole 
 through which they could escape from their dilemma, 
 by observing, that if her daughter's grief were to be 
 attributed to any unpleasant circumstances which 
 might ensue to Sir Henry Montfort on account of his 
 quarrel with Mr. Fitzallan, of the particulars of which 
 she. had been informed by her noble ^husband, her 
 daughter might tranquillize her mind on that head, 
 as the Earl had assured her, that Sir Henry would 
 rot condescend to enter into any personal conflict 
 with an individual so far beneath him; " and I now 
 Guspect," continued her Ladyship, *' that the visit of 
 Mr. Fitzallan has some reference to his making that 
 apology to Sir Henry, through the medium of my 
 noble husband, which an inferior ought always to 
 make to his superior, whenever he has ventured to 
 conduct himself towards him as an equal,'*
 
 410 PITZALLAN. 
 
 " You have, my Lady, by that very information/ 
 said Juha, " been the unconscious instrument otf 
 restoring peace to my dear Amelia's breast. It did not 
 become me to disclose to you the cause of her grief, 
 seeing that she was unwilling to acquaint you with 
 it herself; but the dreadful idea has been preying 
 upon Lady Amelia's mind, that in consequence of 
 the dispute which took place this morning, a hostile 
 meeting might be in agitation ; and then only think, 
 my Lady, if one of them should fall, how deeply, 
 under the circumstances in which Lady Amelia is 
 placed, must she have felt the loss." 
 
 " True indeed," said the Countess, " I am now 
 not at all surprised at your tears, my dear Amelia, 
 for your grief, no doubt, must be excessive at the 
 bare idea of the loss of Sir Henry." 
 
 " Oh 1 my dear mother," said Lady Amelia, 
 wiping the tear away which still trembled on her 
 eyelash, " would not such a loss be a deplorable 
 event ?" 
 
 *' But why should you have hesitated for a mo- 
 ment, my dear girl," said the Countess, " to disclose 
 to me the real state of your feelings ? I should have 
 made every rational allowance for the ebullition of 
 your grief, rather than have pained you with my re- 
 proofs. I should have regarded it as a natural proof 
 of your affection for your intended husband, and 
 I am certain that the information, when conveyed 
 to him of the warm and truly affectionate in- 
 terest which you take in his behalf, will be quite 
 overpowering to him ; you cannot therefore doubt 
 that it will tend to confirm him in persevering
 
 FITZALLAN. 411 
 
 in that line of conduct so becoming his rank and 
 station." 
 
 " And you, my Lady, will, perhaps, use your in- 
 fluence," said Julia, " to dissuade Sir Henry from 
 accepting any challenge that Mr. Fitzallan may send 
 him?" 
 
 " I am not surprised, my dear Julia," said the 
 Countess, with an expressive smile, " at the interest 
 which you appear to take in this business; young la- 
 dies are too apt to faint at particular disclosures 
 about their sweethearts, and to be on the very tip- 
 toe of alarm and tribulation when a duel is talked of: 
 but be composed on that point — I have no reason to 
 express myself in a disrespectful manner respecting 
 Mr. Fitzallan as far as his private character and at- 
 tainments extend, but you must allow, my dear 
 Julia, that he cannot put himself into competition 
 with Sir Henry Montfort in point of rank and for- 
 tune?" 
 
 " But he, nevertheless," said Julia, " may make a 
 most excellent husband ; for what better properties 
 can a girl look for in a husband, than purity of cha- 
 racter, and the possession of useful attainments ; and, 
 without meaning to disparage the fame or reputation 
 of Sir Henry Montfort, you will allow me to say, 
 that the individual, who means to shelter himself 
 under his rank for any injury or offence which it 
 may be his pleasure to commit, should be particularly 
 nice and scrupulous as to the person whom he ag- 
 gresses. In my opinion, it betrays a mean and un- 
 generous spirit to trample upon and insult an indi- 
 vidual, and then, when that individual seeks redress.
 
 412 FITZALLAN. 
 
 to turn round upon him, and say, that his rank pre- 
 vents him from giving- the redress required. Better, 
 and more consistent with the possessor of that rank 
 would it have been, to have acted up to the supposed 
 dignity of his station, and never to have given the 
 offence at all." 
 
 " I am not in the least surprised, my dear Julia,'* 
 said the Countess, " in meeting in you such a warm 
 advocate for Mr. Fitzallan ; it is no more than can 
 be naturally expected from you. I certainly do re- 
 gret that Sir Henry committed himself by entering 
 into any altercation with Mr. Fitzallan in an affair, 
 which, I must confess, did not personally concern 
 him ; but when you look to the motive by which he 
 was actuated, your heart ought to be impressed with 
 feelings of the most sincere gratitude for his inter- 
 ference in your behalf" 
 
 " I was not aware, your Ladyship," said Julia, 
 *' that Sir Henry is in possession of any prescriptive 
 right to interfere in the affairs of others without 
 either their knowledge or consent. Is it in the 
 charter of his Baronetcy ?" 
 
 " It proceeds entirely," said her Ladyship, " from 
 an innate goodness of heart ; he believes that he is 
 rendering the parties an essential service, and there 
 fore, although it may appear intrusive, he is never 
 theless to be commended for it." 
 
 " It is, however, rather singular," said Julia, 
 *' that in the conceit which he has formed, he finds 
 himself mistaken nineteen times out of twenty, and 
 yet is so inconsiderate as to persevere. We have a 
 proof now before us of the great benefit which has
 
 FITZALLAN. 413 
 
 been derived from his interference in my supposed 
 amour with Mr. Fitzallan ; and so deeply interested 
 are we about the termination of it, that your Lady- 
 ship will, perhaps, have the goodness to ascertain 
 the particulars from his Lordship of Mr. Fitzallan's 
 visit, and hasten to communicate them to us." 
 
 " I can easily conceive," said her Ladyship, " that 
 both of you must be in the very extreme pain of 
 anxiety, and therefore I will not lose a moment, as 
 soon as Mr. Fitzallan has taken his departure, of ob- 
 taining from the Earl all the information which you 
 require; in the mean time, let me pray of you, par- 
 ticularly you, my dear Amelia, to make your mind 
 perfectly easy as to any injury that may ensue 
 to Sir Henry ; for the influence which I possess 
 over him, added to the principles of his own cha- 
 racter, will be a sufficient guarantee to you for his 
 safety." 
 
 '' Oh ! my dear mother," said Lady Amelia, " I 
 am certain that Sir Henry has too much affection for 
 me to risk his life, when he knows that the loss of it 
 would be such a heavy affliction to all his acquaint- 
 ance." 
 
 " True, my dear," said her Ladyship, '* a man of 
 his rank is not to be met with every day." 
 
 " Nor of his extraordinary intellectual attainments," 
 said Julia. 
 
 " Nor of his great and noble moral qualities,'* 
 said Lady Amelia." 
 
 " Once more," said the Countess, " compose 
 yourselses, my dear girls ; this is but one of those 
 little discords that will happen in every family ; bul
 
 j4i4 FITZ ALLAN. 
 
 it will soon pass over, and we shall regain our wonted 
 serenity and quiet." 
 
 Thus saying, she hurried out of the room, leaving 
 the two girls to congratulate themselves on the suc- 
 cess of their artifice, and taking to themselves no little 
 credit for the adroitness with which they had misled 
 the Countess in regard to the actual state of their 
 affections, and the real object to whom they were 
 attached. 
 
 Whilst the ladies were thus engaged in conver- 
 sation, Fitzallan had been introduced into the 
 presence of the Earl, by whom he was received 
 with the utmost courtesy and urbanity, and who im- 
 mediately entered upon the subject, on account of 
 which the interview had been solicited. Considering 
 the relative situation in which Sir Henry Montfort 
 stood with the Earl respecting his daughter, it was 
 the anxious wish of the latter to bring the affair be- 
 tween the Baronet and Fitzallan to such a conclusive 
 arrangement, that the honour of his future son-in- 
 law might be protected from those aspersions, which 
 would most assuredly be thrown upon it by a puncti- 
 lious and censorious world, were he, upon the mere 
 plea of an inferiority of rank, to persevere in the refusal 
 of Fitzallan*s challenge. 
 
 The Earl having expressed a wish that Fitzallan 
 would regard him in the character of a mediator be- 
 tween the hostile parties, and that through his inter- 
 cession an avenue might be opened to an amicable 
 arrangement, Fitzallan, in the most candid and 
 manly manner, stated to the Earl, that after the in- 
 sults which Sir Henry Montfort had offered him,
 
 FITZALLAN. 415 
 
 and his conduct subsequent thereon, he could never 
 on any occasion be brought to consider Sir Henry as 
 deserving of the character of a gentleman, or worthy 
 of the slightest respect or courtesy. 
 
 " It is not my intention," said the Earl, '* to enter 
 into any exposition of the general character of Sir 
 Henry Montfort, nor do I mean, by any remark that 
 I may make, to palliate that part of his conduct, 
 which, I frankly confess, does appear in my eyes as 
 rather reprehensible ; but with the knowledge of some 
 of the dominant weaknesses of his character, I am 
 disposed to make greater allowance for any devia- 
 tion from the established rules of general conduct, as 
 sanctioned by the world, which in his eccentricity he 
 may evince, than I might be inclined to bestow on 
 the generality of cases." 
 
 " Nor am I, my Lord," said Fitzallan, " in the 
 least disposed to regard the conduct of Sir Henry 
 Montfort through any other medium than that of 
 honour, propriety, and dignified deportment, and 
 finding it wanting in those chief essentials which 
 constitute the character of a gentleman, I must in 
 future be allowed to regulate my conduct towards 
 him, as a person unworthy to be received into any of 
 the genteel classes of society. I profess myself in- 
 capable of offering a personal insult to any man, be 
 he either my superior or inferior, and with that sen- 
 timent operating on my mind, I also declare, that I 
 will not receive an insult, even from my superior, 
 without demanding that satisfaction which the injured 
 has a right to exact from the injurer." 
 
 " I give you credit, Mr. Fitzallan," said the Earl,
 
 416' FITZALLAN. 
 
 •' for the manly sentiments which you have just now 
 expressed ; but may I be allowed to ask, if, by my 
 influence, I can induce Sir Henry to make an apo- 
 logy to you for the offence which he has given, you 
 will consent to receive it?" 
 
 *' My Lord," answered Fitzallan, " the individual 
 who, in the plenitude of his presumptuous pride, can 
 return such an answer as this, (and Fitzallan here deli- 
 vered to the Earl the note which Sir Henry had writ- 
 ten to him declining the challenge,) is in my opinion a 
 man from whom no apology ought to be received; but, 
 my Lord, you will allow me further to state, that the 
 man who, with the tameness and submission of the 
 slave, will, without the slightest indication of resent- 
 ment, coolly receive a sound whipping with this arm, 
 and with the very whip which I now hold in my 
 hand, is by far too degraded for me to receive an 
 apology from. If he now does not make an appeal 
 to an honourable issue, I shall hold him to be the 
 rankest coward that ever disgraced the ranks of 
 nobility." 
 
 The Earl read the answer of Sir Henry, and on 
 folding it up again, shook his head. " But," he said, 
 " am I to credit it, that you actually inflicted upon 
 him the disgraceful chastisement which vou have 
 now mentioned ?" 
 
 " Not half an hour ago," said Fitzallan, " I. acci- 
 dentally met him on my way hither to attend your 
 Lordship's invitation ; and I hesitate not to confess, 
 that I brought my horsewhip with me under the 
 hope of meeting with him. I was in reality so for- 
 tunate, and having lashed him well, I left him to the
 
 FITZALLAN. 417 
 
 ridicule of the bystanders ; and I saw him take refuge 
 in the hou§e in which Miss Gordon resides, who 
 witnessed the whole of the scene." 
 
 " Then, Mr. Fitzallan," said the Earl, " after that 
 statement, it would be unbecoming in me, and dero- 
 gatory to the rank which I hold in life, were I to 
 advocate the cause of Sir Henry Montfort any fur- 
 ther. I must leave him to abide by the consequences 
 of his own perverse and truly contemptible conduct.'* 
 
 " And now, my Lord," said Fitzallan, " I hope, 
 consistently with that respect which I entertain for 
 your character and virtues, that you will allow me 
 fully to exonerate myself from every part of the 
 charge which Sir Henry Montfort, in direct violation 
 of the truth, and setting at defiance all delicacy and 
 decorum in the propagation of his falsehood, consi- 
 clered himself entitled to bring against me. I am 
 particularly induced to solicit this indulgence from 
 your Lordship, as by the base insinuations, and the 
 calumnious reports of the Baronet, the character of 
 an amiable and most virtuous lady, the confidant and 
 bosom friend of your own daughter, JV^iss Manners, 
 may be subject to the ordeal of a censorious and 
 calumniating world, and may suffer severely in the 
 ^estimation of it, without the most distant cause or 
 pretext for it." 
 
 " According to the report of Sir Henry Montfort," 
 said the Earl, " I have reason to believe that you 
 have paid your addresses to Miss Manners, and that 
 they have been favourably received." 
 
 " I acknowledge, my Lord," said Fitzallan, "that 
 I enjoy the pleasure of being personally acquainted 
 
 VOL. I. 2 E
 
 418 FITZALLAN. 
 
 turith Miss Manners ; but, at the same time, I declare, 
 ^iipon my honour as a gentleman, that I never did 
 pay my addresses to that lady ; that I never at- 
 tempted, either openly or clandestinely, to establish 
 myself in her affections; and further, I have not the 
 slightest reason to flatter myself, that in any of those 
 assemblies in which I have had the pleasure of meet- 
 ing Miss Manners, any act of mine had the slightest 
 tendency to prepossess her in my favour," 
 
 *' Do you consider Sir Henry Montfort," asked 
 the Earl, " as the author of the calumnious report?" 
 
 *' I demanded his authority, my Lord," answered 
 Fitzallan, "but he evaded the exposure by appealing 
 to Miss Manners herself, v/ho treated his appeal with 
 the most silent contempt. Desirous, however, to 
 exculpate myself wholly in the estimation of that 
 lady, and will you allow me to add, my Lord, also in 
 that of your daughter, who, being present, heard the 
 villainous insinuations of Sir Henry, I requested 
 Miss Manners to allow me an interview with her this 
 evening, when I would take the opportunity, in 
 justice to my own character, of entering into a full 
 explanation of another very serious, but unfounded 
 charge, which the Baronet promulgated against me." 
 
 ** Miss Manners," said the Earl, " is now with my 
 daughter ; and from the truly honourable and gen- 
 tlemanly manner in which, Mr. Fitzallan, you appear 
 to have acted in this affair, I will request her attend- 
 ance here ; and I will retire to give you an oppor- 
 tunity of entering into the desired explanation with 
 her." 
 
 *' My Lord," said Fitzallan, ** you confer an
 
 FITZALLAN. 419 
 
 honour upon me, by the very handsome and unex- 
 pected offer which you have now made me ; and so 
 thoroughly convinced am I that there is no part of 
 my conduct that I would not submit to be decided 
 even by a jury of my enemies ; and, further, so keenly 
 desirous am I to exonerate myself from any foul 
 imputation which may have been thrown upon my 
 character, especially in the estimation of an individual 
 so just and honourable as your Lordship, that I will 
 most willingly and thankfully accept the offer on one 
 condition, which is — that your Lordship will do me 
 the honour to be present : a favour which I would, 
 not ask on any account, if I had the m.ost remote 
 idea that the slightest pain would be thereby inflicted 
 on the feelings of Miss Manners." 
 
 " I will most willingly subscribe to that condition," 
 said the Earl ; " and it is a further proof to me, that 
 your conduct has been regulated by the strictest prin- 
 ciples of honour and integrity." 
 
 Lady Amelia and Julia were sitting on the sofa, 
 perplexing themselves with the cause of Fitzallan's 
 visit, and the immediate subject of his protracted in- 
 terview with the Earl,' when the servant entered, 
 delivering a message, requesting the company of Miss 
 Manners in the library. 
 
 " Is any one with my father?" asked Lady Amelia. 
 *' Mr. Fitzallan is with his Lordship," replied the 
 servant; and this intelligence was no sooner commu- 
 nicated, than the most expressive looks passed be- 
 tween the two friends. 
 
 " I'll attend upon his Lordship immediatelj^" said 
 Julia J and the servant left the room. 
 2 e2
 
 420 FTTZALLAN. 
 
 " Gracious Heavens !" exclaimed Lady Amelia, 
 " what can be the meaning; of this ? Oh ! that I 
 might accompany you, for this state of suspense is 
 intolerable." 
 
 " Never fear," exclaimed Julia; " I augur the most 
 agreeable results from this interview ; for I am cer- 
 tain, that before Fitzallan leaves the house, he will 
 so have established himself in the good opinion of the 
 Earl, as to open a more unrestricted intercourse be- 
 tween us." 
 
 " Oh, my dear Julia," said Lady Amelia, " but do 
 hasten back to me with all possible despatch, for 
 every minute will be an hour to me till your return. 
 If you meet my mother, tell her I am dressing; tell 
 her I am the garden ; tell her any thing, but do not 
 let her come here." 
 
 " Am I not going to meet my lover?" exclaimed 
 Julia, with an ironical smile ; " then why do I tarry 
 here ? Oh, Fitzallan ! Fitzallan ! my lover ! my 
 lover !" — and off she bounded. 
 
 *' Dear merry girl," said Lady Amelia, as Julia 
 closed the door, "what should I do without thee? 
 But how heavily fraught with misery or happiness to 
 me is the present hour ! For the future Fitzallan 
 may be for ever estranged from me ! I may see him. 
 the idol of another ; but it is impossibly she can 
 understand how to love as well as I do. But there 
 is no power existing upon the earth which shall pre- 
 vent me uniting myself closer to him. No, Fitzallan I 
 not the understanding of any existing woman shall 
 be more fruitful, nor more rich in invention than 
 mine, to discover the means whereby to make you still
 
 FITZALLAN. 421 
 
 more my own. I will weave some new rosy chains 
 to bind you more tenderly and indissolubly to me. 
 I will be the inventor of new magical charms, in 
 order to destroy the blandishments which give this 
 secret rival the superiority over me. Tell me who 
 she is ; tell me in what consists her fascination, that 
 I may counterfeit it ; tell me by what power she has 
 succeeded in captivating you, and that power shall 
 be mine ; in vain shall you contend against me. Fly 
 to the end of the world ; conceal yourself in the 
 deepest recesses of some uninhabited desert, your 
 Amelia will find her way to you ; and then, when 
 weary of a toilsome, painful life, she cannot obtain 
 from you one word of consolation to assuage her 
 grief, then will she have at last the blessed comfort of 
 dying at your feet." 
 
 Thus communed this beautiful girl with herself, in 
 language such as she would wish only the spirit of 
 her morning dreams to hear. But why, as she whis- 
 pered the words, came a fleeting blush upon her 
 cheeks? why did her bosom rise irregularly, as if 
 under the influence of some uncontroulable power ? 
 and why at that moment could she have clasped every 
 created thing to her heart, which could tell her that 
 it was the offspring of love ? We will not answer 
 these questions, thou lovely one : those under the 
 influence of thy feelings require from us no solution, 
 and those who never knew them would, were we to 
 give it, not understand us. Who would speak to a 
 cold and frigid heart of the heavenly influence of love ? 
 Who would tell of its energy and power to that cal- 
 lous soul, which the view of beauty never warmed,
 
 422 FITZALLAN. 
 
 whose pulse never quickened at the glowing" kiss 
 from woman's lips, and from whose eye ne'er shot a 
 beam of fire, when the last tremulous sigh tells that 
 the victory is won ? The love which animated the 
 breast of Amelia was a pure and holy flame ; it was 
 her first love ; and let those deny it who will, but the 
 images of the iirst love are the deepest impressed, ) 
 because then the ground is wholly soft and pliable ; 
 and even when a lapse of time may be supposed to 
 have obliterated the marks, there will still always 
 remain some faint traces behind, which carry the 
 dreamer back to the days of other years, and with the 
 joy of melancholy to dwell on the remembrance of the 
 most blissful period of his existence.
 
 FITZALLAN. 
 
 42a 
 
 CHATOER XVIIL 
 
 Siren-tongued, and fairy-footed, 
 Heart of bliss to beauty suited ; 
 The first in love, that smiled upon me, 
 (Ah ! early smiles, that early won me.) 
 This plighted heart be thine for ever, 
 Nor season change, nor distance sever ; 
 A fairer form may bend before thee, 
 More polish'd lips than mine adore thee ; 
 But ne'er can heart more truly love thee, 
 Sight more admire, or sense approve thee. 
 
 When Julia entered the library, she found the Earl. 
 and Fitzallan in close and confidential conversation; 
 to her great surprise, the Countess was sitting' in a 
 recess of one of the windov\^s, listening" apparently 
 with intense curiosity to the subject of their dis- 
 course, and, by the frown which sat on the counte- 
 nance of her Ladyship, it was at once evident that 
 Fitzallan had been divulging something not very 
 agreeable to her feelings, or which possessed a ten- 
 dency to degrade some particular individual in her 
 good opinion. It would have been far more agree- 
 able to Julia had the Countess been absent during 
 her interview with Fitzallan and the Earl, for she 
 knew not the exact purport for which her company 
 had been requested, and therefore she might be so 
 inadvertently taken off her guard as to excite certaiii
 
 424 FITZALLAN, 
 
 suspicions in the breast of the Countess, -which might 
 induce her Ladyship to keep a more strict and vigi- 
 lant eye upon the actions of her daughter, and ulti- 
 mately lead to a detection of an attachment, which, 
 under existing circumstances, would be met with the 
 most decided opposition, and perhaps a complete 
 frustration of all their future hopes. 
 a On Julia entering, Fitzallan rose, and greeted her 
 "with all the ease and familiarity of a valued acquaint- 
 ance, and which was at once indicative that he was 
 conscious to himself that he had not, by any dis- 
 honourable or unprincipled act, forfeited her good 
 opinion ; nor was there any thing conspicuous in the 
 "behaviour of Julia, which could lead a spectator to 
 conclude that even the slightest degree of resentment 
 resided in her breast for any previous affront that 
 might have been offered to her. 
 
 *' I have taken the liberty, Miss Manners," said 
 Pitzallan, conducting her to a chair, " to request your 
 presence here, in order that I may stand exonerated 
 in the opinion of your worthy friends now present, 
 of the charge which has been brought against me, 
 and circulated by Sir Henry Montfort, of having 
 conducted myself towards you in a dishonourable and 
 ungentlemanlike manner. I profess that I am not 
 one of those who set the opinion of the world at de- 
 fiance ; and although I do not hold myself amenable 
 to every one for a justification of any, or every part 
 of my conduct; yet, as the reputation of a young 
 man is the brightest jewel which he possesses, and 
 which he ought, to the utmost of his power, to keep 
 from being tarnished, I feel that I owe a duty ta
 
 riTZ ALLAN. 425 
 
 ^Tlnyself and to those who favour me with their esteem 
 and regard, to challenge in the present instance the 
 severest scrutiny into my conduct, in order that I 
 may show myself still deserving of the partiality of 
 
 ^^my friends; or, if guilty, render myself liable to their 
 reproof and displeasure. You heard the charge which 
 Sir Henry Montfort brought against me, particularly 
 in reference to yourself, and you witnessed the most 
 unjustifiable behaviour which he considered himself 
 entitled to adopt on that occasion ; will you now 
 have the goodness to state to the Earl and Countess 
 • of Glencoe, whether there be the slightest ground for 
 the accusation of Sir Henry, or if there be any part 
 of my conduct observed towards you, eitlier openly 
 or clandestinely, of which you have any good and 
 substantial ground of complaint. If there be, I beg 
 of you explicitly to declare it; and I am then willing 
 to submit to the consequences with which such beha- 
 viour ought to be visited." 
 
 " Really, Mr. Fitzallan," said Julia with a smile, 
 " I was not aware that I was to be called before so 
 grave an inquisitor, and to decide upon the propriety 
 or impropriety of the conduct of a gentleman, whose 
 society I have not had frequently the pleasure of enjoy- 
 ing. You stand before me as a self-accused culprit, 
 and I suppose you mean the Earl and the Countess 
 to constitute the jury." 
 
 " And you, Miss Manners," said Fitzallan, " to 
 be my judge, and to pass the sentence upon me ac- 
 cording to the extent of my demerits." 
 
 " Then, as your judge," said Julia, •' I totally 
 absolve you from all and every part of the chargCi
 
 426 FITZALLAN. 
 
 which, as far as I am concerned, has been brought 
 against you. I am not aware of a single act which 
 you ever committed in reference to myself, which 
 derogates from your character as a gentleman, pos- 
 sessed of the most refined and delicate feelings." 
 
 " Spare me," said Fitzallan, " any x>ersonal eulo- 
 gium, for I cannot take to myself any merit for 
 adopting a line of conduct consistent with those 
 principles of honour and virtue in which I have been 
 educated, and to which I look up, as the means of 
 securing to me that rank in society which I now 
 hold. It now only remains for me to trace the 
 calamny to its origin ; and you may rest assured, 
 that the individual in whose malicious head it origi- 
 nated, shall receive from me that chastisement which 
 he so richly deserves. There is, however, one part 
 of my conduct on which it might be supposed that I 
 should enter upon some explanation, especially as it 
 was made the ground-work of my dishonourable con- 
 duct towards Miss Manners — I allude to a clandes- 
 tine attachment which is supposed to exist between a 
 lady and myself, whom I have secreted in the cottage, 
 at which Sir Henry had the impertinence to call, as 
 the self-elected champion of Miss Manners, and 
 where he presumed, in his customary dictatorial 
 manner, to set himself up as the censor of my actions, 
 on the fallacious and untenable plea of the superiority 
 of his station. On that particular subject, however, 
 I must beg leave to maintain at present the greatest 
 secresy and silence. The time will come when every 
 part of my conduct in that respect will be open to the 
 world ; but were I at present to divulge the secret, or
 
 FITZALLAN. 427 
 
 to expose the exact relations in which the unfortunate 
 tenant of the cottag-e now stands, the ends of retri- 
 butive justice might be frustrated, and the dehnquent 
 escape that punishment, which, I am certain, ere long 
 will fall upon his head. It is not the suspicion that 
 may attach to my character — it is not the sneers and 
 scoffs with which the illiberal and uncharitable may- 
 point at me, that shall discourage or deter me from 
 accomplishing the end which I have in view ; and 
 although calumny and detraction may envelope me in 
 their murky clouds, the hour will come when I shall 
 emerge with the light of honour, integrity, and virtue 
 around me ; the brightness of which will be in pro- 
 portion to the gloom and darkness with which my 
 enemies will be surrounded." 
 
 "Is it your belief, Mr. Fitzallan," asked the 
 Countess, who had hitherto maintained a studied 
 silence, " that Sir Henry, in this late conduct of his, 
 which has excited so much animosity against him, 
 was actuated by any sinister motive? Individually 
 speaking, it could not be any matter of concern to 
 him in what manner you chose to regulate your 
 actions ; and therefore, as he possessed no interest 
 in them, are we not in charity bound to attribute his 
 behaviour to a good and honourable motive, although 
 he may have adopted rather an eccentric method in 
 the execution of it ?" 
 
 " Under the present circumstances, my Lady," said 
 Fitzallan, " and particularly as being honoured with 
 this interview under your own roof, it would be 
 highly unbecoming in me to throw any additional 
 Stigma on the character of Sir Henry Monttbrt, or to
 
 0,^ FITZALLAN. 
 
 enter into any. explanation of those feelings, which 
 are naturally excited in the breast of every individual 
 who is jealous of his reputation, when he hears his 
 character traduced by another, however high his 
 rank and condition in life may be. In this respect, 
 as well as in many others, I do not consider Sir Henry 
 in any other light than as my equal ; and I ccnsideF 
 it the duty of every man, before he takes upon him- 
 self the office of interfering in the affairs of others, 
 and to pass his condemnatory opinion upon them, to 
 have well ascertained that the rumours in circula- 
 tion, and the diffusion of which he has very officiously 
 taken upon himself, were founded on truth. I have 
 further always held it to be a leading principle in 
 the affairs of life, that he who refuses to give up his 
 authority for any scandalous report that he may 
 choose to circulate, is himself to be considered as the 
 author of it, and to be treated as such by the indi- 
 vidual who is maligned. These are feelings, how- 
 ever, which it would ill become me to discuss in your 
 presence, my Lady ; I was accused of an action 
 bordering almost on villainy ; I was accused of de- 
 porting myself towards Miss Manners, that young 
 lady, who enjoys the felicity of being the bosom friend 
 of your daughter, in a manner, that, could it have been 
 verified against me, ought to have led to my expulsion 
 from respectable society; and, on demanding the 
 authority for such unfounded aspersions on my charac- 
 ter, I was treated with all the disdain and contumely 
 of the supposed superior; in consequence thereof I 
 took it into my own hands to obtain that redress, 
 which, if 1 had not demanded, I should deem myself
 
 FITZALLAN. 429 
 
 unworthy to appear before you with that conscious 
 pride, and assuranse of my own rectitude, which I 
 trust have distiniriiished me durin*^ our present inter- 
 view. I am willing to submit my conduct to the 
 test of the most rigid scrutiny. If I am found to 
 have erred, I am not above apologizing for any part 
 of my conduct which may be deemed an infraction of 
 the rules of any of the established courtesies of life ; 
 but, on the other hand, if T am found to be an in- 
 jured individual, I shall deem myself entitled to that 
 right of self-defence which is invested in every person, 
 careless of the rank or station which the man so in- 
 juring me may hold in life. To you. Miss Manners, 
 every apology is due from me in having thus, I am 
 certain unintentionally on my part, exposed you to 
 this unpleasant interview, but I could not suffer 
 myself to lie under the imputation of the conduct 
 which has been imputed to me towards you ; and 
 if further explanation on my part be required by 
 you, I hope you will not allow this opportunity to 
 escape of bringing forward your accusations against 
 me." 
 
 *' I have no accusation, Mr. Fitzallan,"said Julia, 
 " to bring against you ; and I know you will credit 
 me, when I declare that the officiousness of Sir 
 Henry, in his pretended championship of my cha- 
 racter, was neither desired nor sanctioned by me ; at 
 the same time, I will confess, that in my conduct 
 towards Sir Henry I was in no little degree actuated 
 by a spirit of mischief, and of a disposition naturally 
 frolicsome, to urge him on in his Quixotic expedition 
 as my own true and gallant knight, never suspecting
 
 •4^9 FITZALLAN. 
 
 that his extraordinary spirit of chivalry would have 
 led him into his present dilemma." 
 
 *' And from which," said the Earl, " I see no im- 
 mediate prospect of rescuing him but with the loss of 
 his honour." 
 
 " A person of Sir Henry's rank lose his honour!" 
 exclaimed the Countess ; " things have come to a 
 fine pass indeed, if a man of high descent, of fortune, 
 and of the most exalted expectations, is to lose his 
 honour from an insignificant squabble about a pre- 
 tended love affair." 
 
 " Men of rank, of fortune, and of ducal expecta- 
 tions," said the Earl, very drily, " have lost their 
 honour on subjects of still less trivial import. No 
 man has a right, whether duke, lord, or baronet, to 
 give an offence without he is prepared to take the 
 consequences of it." 
 
 "It is not my wish," said Fitzallan, in the mild- 
 est possible tone, "to be the instrument of the pro- 
 longation of this dispute. It will give me no httle 
 pleasure to know that I have justified myself in the 
 opinion of those whose esteem and regard I shall be 
 always proud to acknowledge ; at the same time that 
 I carry with me the consciousness, that in no instance 
 of my life was I ever the aggressor, or the wilful de- 
 stroyer of another's happiness. You will now allow 
 me, I hope, to take my leave." 
 
 *' Not so," said the Earl ; " you and I must be 
 better acquainted. I am certain, when the Countess 
 examines this affair impartially, she will eventually 
 acknowledge that the conduct of Sir Henry has 
 been highly indiscreet, not to call it by a harsher
 
 FITZALLAN. 431 
 
 name ; and our only aim ought now to be, to 
 prevent the pubheity of the affair being more ex- 
 tended." 
 
 , "Dear o' me," said the Countess, in rather a 
 sneering tone, " as if the most extended publicity 
 could detract from the character of Sir Henry Mont- 
 fort ; his rank and title will always prove to him a 
 passport through the world." 
 
 " So they may," said the Earl, *' v/ith empty and 
 superficial thinkers; but from the moment that I had 
 the misfortune to become an Earl, I have endea- 
 "voured to ascertain in what the advantage of it lies ; 
 and J find that I am placed a few staves higher on 
 the ladder of human society, and consequently I am 
 told that I am to look down with contempt upon 
 those who are on the staves beneath me, and that 
 being placed by Providence on the summit of pros- 
 perity, I am to be so intoxicated with my grandeur 
 as to convert that prosperity into a right of extin- 
 guishing every sentiment of humanity." 
 
 " Flow strange it is, my Lord," said the Countess, 
 *' that I cannot eradicate from your mind these ple- 
 beian principles. A proper deference is, and ever 
 will be paid in this world to rank ; and in the case 
 of Sir Henry Montfort, whom I shortly hope to call 
 my son-in-law — " 
 
 " Humph 1" ejaculated the Earl, playing with his 
 watch-chain ; " I rather think he must alter his con- 
 duct before that event takes place." 
 
 " How ! what !" exclaimed the Countess, rising 
 from her chair ; " and is this paltry insignificant 
 fcquabble — "
 
 432 FITZALLAN. 
 
 *' In which your future son-in-law," said the Earl, 
 very coolly, " has lost his honour." 
 
 "I repeat it," said the Countess; "can this 
 paltry affair have had such an influence over you, my 
 Lord, as to induce you to throw any obstacles in the 
 way of the proposed union of our daughter with a 
 person of such an ancient family, and of such un- 
 sullied character as Sir Henry MontfortV" 
 
 "And who has suffered himself," said the Earl, 
 with an assumed indifference, " to be horsewhipped 
 in the public streets." '' '''''' -"'^'^^ '■ 
 
 " Horsewhipped !" exclaimed the Countess'; '* Sir 
 Henry Montfort horsewhipped ! I should like to see 
 the individual, either his superior or inferior, who 
 would presume to commit such an indignity upon 
 him." 
 
 " You see, my Lady," said Fitzallan, with the 
 greatest courtesy, " you see that individual now be- 
 fore you. I shrink not from the avowal ; on the 
 contrary, I pride myself upon it. I did horsewhip 
 Sir Henry Montfort, and will again until he retracts 
 Jiis scandalous falsehoods respecting- me." 
 
 " You have thereby, Mr. Fitzallan," said the 
 Countess, " brought a degradation upon this family, 
 which must and shall be wiped away. I will imme- 
 diately see Sir Henry Montfort on the subject, and 
 measures shall be taken for his complete justifica- 
 tion. Well, this comes all of your march of intel- 
 lect, or, what some fools call it, of the schoolmaster 
 bein"- abroad. A pretty preceptorship indeed ! to 
 teach inferiors to horsewhip their superiors. Why, 
 the aristocracy of this country will soon only be worth
 
 FITZALLAN. 433 
 
 as much as it is in the Cannibal Islands, where an 
 individual is estimated according' to his bulk and size, 
 not according to his genealogical tree, or the antiquity 
 of his descent." 
 
 *' No, my Lady," said the Earl, " it is only ia 
 civilized countries, where emptiness of rank is made 
 the stalking-horse for a few select to ride rough shod 
 over the better portion of their fellow-creatures." 
 
 Fitzallau rose from his chair, and addressing him- 
 self to the Earl, said, " It becomes me not, after the 
 turn which this interview has now taken, to protract 
 my stay any longer. I came hither in consequence 
 of your express invitation, and I shall deem myself 
 fortunate if I have eradicated from your mind any evil 
 impression, which the calumnious disposition of Sir 
 Henry Montfort may have made upon it. Further, 
 I shall hold myself particularly happy, if, in regard 
 to you. Miss Manners, the friendly intercourse which 
 has hitherto subsisted between us may be re-esta- 
 blished on its former footing, in despite of the at- 
 tempts which have been so insidiously made to 
 interrupt it." 
 
 " Having not the slightest ground of complaint 
 against you, Mr. Fitzallan," said Julia, " you will 
 ever be received by my family circle with the same 
 cordial welcome which it has hitherto been our study 
 to give you. Allow me, however, to sav one word 
 in extenuation of the conduct of Sir Henry Montfort; 
 which is, that I believe he has been wilfully and de- 
 signedly imposed upon by certain individuals, to effect 
 some villainous purpose of their own ; and that they 
 selected him in particular, from the knowledge which 
 
 VOL, I. 2 F
 
 434 FITZALLAN. 
 
 they possessed of his credulous disposition, and his 
 ungovernable propensity to interfere in the affairs of 
 other people ; but that, in regard to yourself per- 
 sonally, he could not have been actuated by any 
 hostile or resentful feeling." 
 
 " Very true, my dear J aha," exclaimed the Coun- 
 tess, who was delighted to hear these exculpatory 
 expressions, so conducive to the restoration of the 
 tranquillity which had hitherto distinguished the 
 family of the Glencoes ; " true, I must say, that 
 I think the conduct of Sir Henry has been canvassed 
 with too much severity, jind that not the slightest 
 allowance has been made for those little weaknesses 
 and foibles, which are more or less inseparable from 
 every character." 
 
 " Will you allow me to say, my Lady," said 
 Fitzallan, " that the step from a weakness to a vice 
 is so indistinct, that it is sometimes very difficult to 
 determine to which of the two any particular action 
 ought to be attributed ; but I consider, according to 
 the acknowledged institutions of society, that when 
 an individual, without any previous provocation, 
 wilfully commits a trespass upon the character and 
 happiness of another, he is bound to make every 
 compensation for the injury which he has com- 
 mitted ; and that if he, under the principle of 
 common justice, refuses to make that reparation, an 
 appeal to the most summary method of obtaining 
 satisfaction is not only justifiable, but is actually im- 
 perative upon the injured party. Sir Henry has it 
 still in his power to retrace his steps ; and although 
 he can never wholly purify himself from the dis-
 
 FITZALLAN. 435 
 
 honour which his cowardice has entailed upon him, 
 he nnay still so far ackuovvledge his error, as wholly 
 to obliterate that stain from a character which his 
 unjustifiable officiousness has attempted to cast upon 
 it. I would tread out of my path to avoid the syste- 
 matic slanderer, as I would some venomed reptile 
 which comes upon me unawares, and stings me in 
 the moment when I least expect it !" 
 
 At this moment an angry voice was heard in the 
 vestibule, exclaiming, " Where is the Earl ? where 
 is the Countess ? where is Lady Amelia ? a man of 
 my rank to be thus insulted !" 
 
 " Good heavens 1" exclaimed the Countess, hasten- 
 ing towards the door, " it is the Baronet's voice. 
 Oh dear ! oh dear ! we shall certainly have blood- 
 shed. Oh ! how very unfortunate." 
 
 " No fear, no fear !" exclaimed the Earl; " I'll be 
 the guarantee that there will be no bloodshed on 
 one side." 
 
 Lady Amelia, who had heard the bustle from an 
 adjoining room, hastened into the vestibule ; and it 
 may have been surmised by some ill-disposed, illiberal 
 spirits, that she presented herself on that occasion, 
 not so much on account of any sympathy which she 
 might have felt for her future husband in his dolorous 
 plight, but actually to catch a glimpse of him, whom 
 of all others in the wrrld she wished to be her hus- 
 band, but from 'Wliom fate had separated her, like 
 two parallel lines which, although they may stretch 
 away into infinity, never can meet. 
 
 The Countess rushed from the library at the same 
 moment that her daughter presented herself in the 
 •2 F 2
 
 436 FITZALLAN. 
 
 ■vestibule, where they found the Baronet completely 
 out of breath, and under a paroxysm of rage, which 
 portended ineviiable destruction to any inimical ob- 
 ject which mig'ht unfortunately come in his way. 
 " My dear Lady Amelia!" he exclaimed, taking hold 
 of one of her hands ; " my dear Countess," he cried, 
 also taking her by the hand, " did you ever hear of 
 such an act of atrocity as has been committed upon 
 my person by that low, vulgar, illiterate, plebeian 
 fellow, Filzallan. Oh ! if I could but now meet with 
 him, I am certain that I should annihilate him ; I 
 should so disfigure his poor effeminate form, that it 
 should bear scarcely any resemblance to aught that 
 is human ; I should completely pulverize him." 
 
 " ]My dear Sir Henry," said the Countess, " do 
 compose yourself; it is true you may have suffered 
 an indignity.'' 
 
 *' Yes, your Ladyship," cried the Baronet, flushed 
 with passion, " I have suffered a very gross indignity; 
 but the fellow took to his heels, or I would have shown 
 him that a man of my rank is not to be so treated with 
 impunity. The cowardly fellow — to run away — but 
 I was wisely advised by some of the spectators not to 
 pursue him, but to treat him with every mark of con- 
 tempt and indignation." 
 
 " Oh ! Sir Henry," exclaimed Lady Amelia, " what 
 disaster is it that has befallen you ? what can Mr. 
 Pitzallan possibly have done thus to excite the ebul- 
 lition of your rage ?" 
 
 " Done ! Lady Amelia," exclaimed the Baronet, 
 * why his very name is branded with infamy for the 
 act, the very boys will hoot at him in the streets,
 
 FITZALLAN. 437 
 
 and the fishvvomen will pelt him with their offal for 
 the unexampled affront which he has committed 
 upon a person of my rank ; and all this comes, my 
 dear Amelia, for my generous and disinterested efforts 
 in protecting your friend from his vile and accursed 
 plots ag-ainst her character." 
 
 " But in what manner," asked Lady Amelia, " has 
 Mr. Fitzallan committed an indignity upon your 
 person, Sir Henry ?" 
 
 " Has he not horsewhipped me, my dear Amelia? 
 horsewhipped me in the public streets, when I was 
 totally defenceless ; has he not taken the advantage 
 of my unprotected state to use his whip upon me as 
 if 1 were an ass ?" 
 
 " Oh ! my dear Sir Henry," ejaculated the 
 Countess, " who could ever take a man of your rank 
 for an ass ?" 
 
 " But he treated me as such," said the Baronet ; 
 *' and then, to finish the scene, to be wedged in, on a 
 narrow staircase with that prowling human biped of 
 scandal, Mrs. Doe, the attorney's wife, who had heard 
 that the town was all in mourning for me ; that I 
 had been bled, blistered, and was covered with 
 bruises. Is it not monstrous, my dear Amelia ; and 
 •only think, if the fellow had killed me, as Mrs. Doe 
 informed me was the general report throughout 
 the town — Oh ! what would then have been your 
 situation ?" 
 
 " Oh l" said Lady Amelia, " let us, however, re- 
 joice that this untoward affiiir has not terminated 
 fatally." 
 
 *' But where is the Earl," exclaimed the Baronet
 
 438 FIT2ALLAN. 
 
 making his way towards the hbrary, " I am come 
 hither to consult him as to the manner in which this 
 assault on my person is to be avenged. x\re there 
 no laws which will protect a man of my rank from 
 being attacked in the open street, by any audacious 
 ragamuffin, who may take it into his head that I have 
 offended his dunghill pride, or exposed the iniquity 
 of his actions? The inflated fool may conceive that 
 it was a want of spirit which prevented me from 
 punishing him on the spot, but that is wholly out of 
 the question ; and I am certain, my dear Amelia, I 
 should be unw^orthy of you, if I did not resent any 
 act which was likely to place my honour in jeopardy." 
 
 " Indeed you would," said Lady Ameli a; " but as 
 the affair is of a private nature between Mr. Fitz- 
 allan and yourself, it were, perhaps, as well, to spare 
 my father the disagreeable alternative of interfering 
 on either side." 
 
 " What 1" exclaimed the Baronet, " your father 
 not interfere on my account, not to espouse my cause 
 in a case of this description ! not to assist a man of 
 my rank, and imbued with the spirit congenial with 
 that rank ! I only want an opportunity to punish the 
 fellow for his atrocious conduct ; and he shall feel 
 how boldly a man of my rank can defend himself 
 from the dastardly attack of an insignificant plebeian. 
 Were he but now here, you should have a specimen 
 of how a man of rank can deport himself, when a 
 wound has been inflicted upon his honour." 
 
 At this moment, the library door opened, and 
 Fitzallan presented himself in company with the 
 Earl and Julia, and the Baronet no sooner caught a
 
 FITZALLAN. 439 
 
 glimpse of his antagonist with the same weapon in 
 his hand with which he had so hberally chastised 
 him, than in his imagination he beheld a repetition of 
 the scene, and he very promptly yielded to the en- 
 treaty of the Countess, to retire with her into an ad- 
 joining room, and not to think of putting his threats 
 into execution ; as, under his present state of excite- 
 ment, the most serious consequences might be the 
 result. To the Baronet, however, the sudden ap- 
 pearance of Fitzallan in a quarter where of all others 
 he was the least expected to be seen, was a circum- 
 stance of the most mortifying description; — had some 
 horrid sprite broken loose from the domdaniel caves, 
 it could not have shot a greater trepidation into his 
 soul ; a tremor came over his whole frame, and he 
 cast a look upon Fitzallan, in which humiliated pride 
 and the most resentful indignation strove for the 
 mastery. Fitzallan now passed closely to him, and 
 after bowing in the most respectful and formal man- 
 ner to Lady Amelia, who returned it with the same 
 spirit, he briefly addressed himself to Sir Henry, 
 saying, " The company, Sir Henry, in which you now 
 are, and the roof under which I find you, must, con- 
 sistently with the manners of a gentleman, protect 
 you from any offensive acts on my part. I hope you 
 will profit by the advice which the Earl will give you, 
 and take the earliest steps towards the retrieving of 
 your character, which you have now so grossly for- 
 feited. For myself, I shall not condescend to enter 
 into any further personal altercation with you. I 
 have made the Earl acquainted with every particular 
 respecting our late rencontre, and if there be any part
 
 440 FITZALLAN. 
 
 of my conduct which yet calls for an explanation, I 
 shall always be most ready to give it to any person, 
 on whose regard and esteem I attach the slightest 
 value." 
 
 To this appeal of Fitzallan, Sir Henry deigned not 
 to make any reply, but taking the Countess under 
 one arm and Lady Amelia under the other, he very 
 disdainfully retreated into the room, at the entrance 
 of vvhicli Lady Amelia turned her head aside, and 
 directing her look to the spot where Fitzallan was 
 standing in conversation with the Earl, blessed him 
 with such a smile, that in one moment repaid him for 
 all the troubles he had lately endured ; for it told him 
 that he had not forfeited the place which he held in 
 lier esteem, and that if any displeasure towards him 
 liad ever existed in her breast, in consequence of the 
 calumniating insinuations of the Baronet, it was now 
 entirely removed. Taking a most friendly leave of 
 Julia and the Earl, from the latter of whom he re- 
 ceived the assurance, that it would be highly agreeable 
 to him if their intimacy were extended, Fitzallan 
 left the house congratulating himself on the general 
 result of his interview.
 
 FITZ ALLAN. 441 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Tell me, <lan'j;hter Juliet, 
 How stands your disposition to be married ? 
 
 » s!« * * * '•.: * 
 
 Oh ! she says nothing, but weeps and weeps. 
 
 On the arrival of Fitzallan at home, he was itiformed 
 that a strang-er had called upon him, as if just ar- 
 rived from a long' journey, but who refused to dis- 
 close the import of his visit to Mr. Bode, or to any 
 of the domestics of the establishment. Fitzallan im- 
 mediately suspected that the stranger was intrusted 
 with some commission from his mother, whose late 
 motions had been attended with so much secrecy and 
 mystery, as totally to baffle all conjecture as to what 
 might be the ultimate end of her designs. To several 
 of his letters expressing his intention to pay her an 
 early visit, an immediate reply was sent, requesting 
 him to defer it to some future day, the period of which 
 was however never fixed ; intimating, at the same time, 
 that family affairs required her immediate presence 
 in some distant part of the country, but of the exact 
 nature of which, or with whom they were to be 
 transacted, not the slightest information was given. 
 To the inquiries which Fitzallan made in regard to
 
 442 FITZALLAN. 
 
 the dubious existence of his father, the most peremp- 
 tory injunction was returned, that under existing cir- 
 cumstances, she was not at liberty to enter into any 
 further disclosure, than a repetition of the assurance, 
 that his father was dead, and therefore, her desire 
 further intimated, that her feelings might not be 
 harassed by a revival of the question. In one of the 
 last letters, however, received from his mother, she 
 rather darkly insinuated, that he would shortly re- 
 ceive from her some information of an interesting 
 nature, but that any attempt on his part to expedite 
 it, would be productive of a wholly contrary effect. 
 When, therefore, Fitzallan was informed that a 
 stranger had called upon him, and under circum- 
 stances of rather a mysterious nature, the pleasing 
 hope arose in his breast, that a stranger had been 
 despatched by his mother with the promised informa- 
 tion, and his anxiety was unbounded for the arrival 
 of the hour at which the stranger promised that he 
 would call again. 
 
 Fitzallan was sitting at the window, observing 
 every individual that passed by with the most scruti- 
 nizing eye, hoping to discover the stranger in his 
 travelling dress, who might answer to the character 
 which had been given of him, when Mr. Bode en* 
 tered, delivering to him a letter which had been left 
 by some unknown hand, but with the injunction that 
 it was to be delivered immediately. The letter was 
 evidently written in a feigned hand, and ran as 
 follows ;
 
 FITZALLAN. 443 
 
 " To HIM WHO WILL UNDERSTAND IT, 
 
 " Let no assurance induce you to believe that 
 your father is dead. Be upon your guard with a 
 stranger, who is secretly employed to watch your 
 actions. Be not too communicative to him, and place 
 little confidence in the intelligence which he brings 
 you. Treat him as you would your enemy, and if 
 you value your future happiness, let no one see the 
 contents of this letter. 
 
 *' Amicus." 
 
 Fitzallan having perused this extraordinary note, 
 examined it in the minutest manner, with the hope 
 of detecting the handwriting, but after comparing it 
 with every one with which he was acquainted, he 
 could not trace the slightest resemblance with any 
 one, and then he began to discuss within himself, as 
 to the manner in which he should deport himself to- 
 wards the stranger, and whether, as the letter was 
 anonymous, it was deserving of the slightest atten- 
 tion on his part. Still, however, there was a suffi* 
 ciency in the letter to lead him to suppose that the 
 individual who wrote it, was in some degree privy to 
 the mysterious situation in which he stood respecting 
 his father ; and a suspicion darted across his mind 
 whether the whole was not a contrivance of his 
 mother to mislead him in those points on which the 
 mystery of her own life appeared to be founded. His 
 own penetr?ition was sufficient to convince him, that 
 whoever the parties might be who were implicated
 
 444 JiTZ ALLAN. 
 
 in his future destiny, they were in a state of discord 
 Avith each other, and that their chief design appeared 
 to be to circumvent each other in their respective 
 plans. 
 
 In the midst of these reflections, the stranger was 
 announced, and on entering the room, the surprise 
 of Fitzallan was boundless when he discovered in 
 him the same individual who had pretended to be 
 the bearer of intelligence from his father in America, 
 und who now introduced himself to him as the agent 
 of Lord Dufresne, to whom Fitzallan had written an 
 expostulatory letter respecting the conduct which 
 ought to be pursued by his son, the Hon. Mr. 
 Monckton, towards his unfortunate victim, the 
 daughter of Arnfeld. 
 
 " You and I have seen each other before," said 
 Fitzallan, after the customary salutations had passed 
 between them, " therefore, we are no direct strangers 
 to each other. What news do you now bring me 
 respecting my father? does he, or does he not live?" 
 
 " Excuse rae. Sir," said the stranger, " that is a 
 topic upon which I am not now commissioned to 
 converse with you ; therefore, no reliance can be 
 placed upon any information that I can give you, for 
 having had no further transactions with the parties, I 
 profess myself ignorant of their motions." 
 
 *' Then you once had transactions with them," 
 asked Fitzallan, most significantly, " if so, you are 
 enabled now to tell me what those transactions 
 were, and also the particular individuals with whom 
 you were connected with them. Was my father one 
 of them ?"
 
 FITZALLAN. 445 
 
 ** I assure you, Sir," said the stranger, rather 
 haughtily, *' I have not paid you this visit with the 
 intention of discussing any family matter with you, but 
 so far will I deviate from the path prescribed to me, 
 that I will not hesitate to repeat to you my former 
 statement, that your father is in existence." 
 
 " And v/here?" asked Fitzallan. 
 
 " I possess not the power of omniscience," said 
 the stranger, " therefore, I cannot answer your ques- 
 tion ; but to the purport of my visit." 
 
 " Proceed," said Fitzallan, who eyed him as if he 
 would penetrate into the very nucleus of his heart : 
 *' I feel myself in a state of torment with this opaque 
 veil of mystery which is attempted to be thrown 
 around me ; and I know not who possesses the right, 
 if my parents do not choose to show themselves to 
 me as such, to throw a restraint over, or to question 
 the propriety or impropriety of my actions. If inde- 
 pendence be mine, let me enjoy the advantages of it; 
 on the contrary, if I am to be considered as the slave 
 of another, let me know who it is that exacts obe- 
 dience from me, that I may have the option whether 
 I will or will not submit to it." 
 
 " Young man," said the stranger, " I pardon this 
 ebullition of a youthful temperament; you see before 
 you an individual who has witnessed human life in 
 all its vicissitudes ; who has known the height of 
 opulence and the depths of misery, who from various 
 situations has viewed the moving panorama of hu- 
 man life, and who has wished himself in a solitude, 
 that he might not see its atrocities. I appear before 
 you, I acknowledge, in the unwelcome guise of mys-
 
 446 FITZALLAN. 
 
 tery, and I can easily conceive that certain suspicions 
 will naturally arise in your breast, which must choke 
 every germ of confidence which might otherwise take 
 its root within it; but the time will come, and it is 
 not far distant, when a hght will burst upon you 
 from a quarter, where at present rest all darkness, 
 gloom, and mystery, and where in the hoary decrepi- 
 tude of my age, you may grasp my withered hand, 
 and as the coldness of death creeps upon it, press it 
 with all the warmth of — I was going to say, of affec- 
 tion ; but, let me say, of heartfelt gratitude." 
 
 " How," said Fitzallan to himself, " am I to re- 
 concile such sentiments as these with the warning 
 contained in the letter ; I am made the sport of some 
 wayward destiny, and yield to it I must." 
 
 " Now listen to me," continued the stranger. 
 *' There are eyes which watch your actions although 
 you see them not; there are steps which dog your 
 motions in the sunshine of the day, and the darkness 
 of the night, although you hear them not ; there is a 
 voice which would warn you from the precipice on 
 which you are now standing ; but that voice dares 
 not make itself heard ; it is as the stifled voice of the 
 mother, who sees her infant standing on the brink of 
 a precipice, and dares not call to it, for fear the ex- 
 clamation of alarm should frighten it into the abyss 
 below; It may appear paradoxical to you, and so it 
 will also to the mere tyro in the world, but when 
 virtue is carried to an excess, it partakes of the 
 nature of vice ; it is the fault of youth to run into that 
 excess, and no one is more guilty of that fault than 
 yourself. You lately wrote a letter to Lord Dufresne,
 
 FITZALLAN. 447 
 
 calling" upon him to interfere in a most disreputable 
 affair between his son, Mr. Moncktoij, and the daugh- 
 ter of a retired officer of the name of Arnfeld." 
 
 " I acknowledge I did write that letter," said Fitz- 
 allan, confounded with surprise ; " and can that be 
 deemed a fault in me?" 
 
 " INot exactly a fault," said the stranger ; '^ but I 
 am deputed hither by Lord Dufresne with an answer 
 to that letter." 
 
 " I hope it is satisfactory," said Fitzallan ; " pray 
 dehver it," tendering out his hand to receive it. 
 
 " It is a verbal one," said the stranger, " and, per- 
 haps, you may regard it as an authoritative one; but 
 the reason will be one day explained to you. It is 
 the express order of Lord Dufresne, that you desist 
 from this moment from all interference in the affair 
 to which you allude in your letter." 
 
 " I am not disposed," said Fitzallan, " to obey the 
 order of any individual which goes to counteract my 
 endeavours to obtain redress for the greatest injury 
 which one of the opposite sex can receive from ours, 
 and especially, when I am not aware of any existing 
 tie, relation, or connexion, which is imperative upon 
 me to pay obedience to that order, or which invests 
 the individual with a right to issue it. Does Lord 
 Dufresne send me word that he will force his profli- 
 gate son to repair the injury which he has inflicted? 
 Has he invested you with instructions to restore peace 
 and serenity to the maddened spirit of a broken-hearted 
 father? to mitigate the ardour of the fire which is con- 
 suming his brain, and to give him at last the pillow of 
 a placid death ? has he done one or all of these things.
 
 448 FlTZALLANe 
 
 and I will conduct the victim of his son's libertinism to 
 the asylum which has been provided for her. I will 
 instantly search out the distracted father, that is, if 
 his misery has not already given him a grave ; and 
 I will lead him to where his discarded daughter is 
 now in the depth of her disconsolate condition weep- 
 ing over the inanimate form of her child, the off- 
 spring of her unhallowed love, and praying to be with 
 it the joint tenant of a grave. Tell me now, if I 
 obey the order of Lord Dufresne, and abandon the 
 cause of the hapless victim of his son's deliberate 
 profligacy, whether you have any authority from him 
 to take the most prompt measures to render imme- 
 diate justice to the injured parties, and to make the 
 delinquent feel the enormity of his crime ?" 
 
 " I acknowledge," said the stranger, " that I am 
 not invested by Lord Dufresne with any of the 
 powers you mention, nor am I so far in his confi- 
 dence as to disclose to you the line of conduct which' 
 he intends to pursue in the business ; my sole com- 
 mission is to put a negative by Lord Dufresne upon 
 any further interference on your part, as far aar re- 
 gards Mr. Monckton ; and further, that you will 
 abstain from all acts of personal violence towards 
 him." 
 
 *' Indeed !" said Fitzallan, " then you will -have 
 the goodness to convey this message back to his 
 Lordship, that before he assumes to himself the pri- 
 vilege of controlling my actions, he must first show 
 me on what basis that privilege is founded. It is not 
 his mere title that can invest him with such a right ; 
 and, thfcifore, not being accustomed to pay submis-
 
 FITZALLAN. 449 
 
 sion where none is due, I shall continue to act acconl- 
 in^ to the dictates of my own principles, without 
 stopping to consult how far those principles, in the 
 fullest exercise of them, may meet with the con- 
 currence or approbation of any other individual. 
 You will also allow me to say, that I do not consider 
 myself as treated by Lord Diifresne with that cour- 
 tesy which is due to me. I wrote to his Lordship on 
 a subject in which the character of his heir was at 
 issue, with all the respect due to his rank and dig- 
 nity, and I consider it contrary to the commonest 
 rules of politeness, to return a verbal answer to a 
 written communication. If, therefore., his Lordship 
 considers me as so far beneath him as to be unde- 
 serving of that common act of courtesy, I must, ia 
 return, inform him, that I shall persevere in my most 
 strenuous endeavours to bring his profligate son to 
 some sense of compunction for the injury which he 
 has inflicted on a worthy, and, before the serpent 
 crept into their habitation, a happy family ; and if 
 laeither expostulation, entreaty, nor a sense of honour 
 can induce him to make the reparation required, 
 I know of one step," and in pronouncing that sen- 
 tence, Fitzallan shot a most expressive look upoa 
 the stranger, " by which he shall be compelled 
 to it." 
 
 " Your behaviour on this occasion," said the 
 stranger, *' has fully verified the suspicions of Lord 
 Dufresne. He is by no means ignorant of your cha- 
 racter, and in the supposition that his injunction upon 
 you, in regard to your conduct towards his son, 
 might, as I have now experienced, meet with a de- 
 
 VOL. I. 2 G
 
 450 riTZALLAN. 
 
 cided repulse, he has commissioned me to deliver 
 to you this letter from your rriother." 
 
 " A letter from my mother!" exclaimed Fitzallan, 
 overcome with surprise, " I knew not that my mother 
 was acquainted with Lord Dufresne ; and how is it 
 that his Lordship has obtained access to her in so 
 short a time, for by the last accounts received 
 from her, she was in a wholly different part of the 
 count ry ?'' 
 
 *' It is out of my power," said the stranger, " to 
 answer those questions; you of course must be better 
 acquainted with your mother's actions than I can 
 possibly be expected to be." 
 
 Fitzallan opened his mother's letter, and read as 
 follows : 
 
 *' My Dear Hector, 
 
 " The gloom which appears to weigh so 
 heavily upon your future prospects is fast dispersing; 
 but seek not to hasten it before its time. One indis- 
 creet act on your part, in contradiction to the counsel 
 of your mother and your friend, may plunge you 
 into a dilemma from which no after exertion can 
 rescue you. Look upon yourself as a vessel under the 
 guidance of a hidden pilot, who will eventually steer 
 you safely into the harbour of happiness : but if you 
 pretend to take the helm into your own hands, under 
 the presumptuous idea of the possession of superior 
 skill, the fortune of your future life is wrecked for 
 ever. If, however, you value the peace of your un- 
 fortunate mother, who, after having passed through 
 every grade of misery, now first beholds the star of
 
 FITZALLAN. 451 
 
 her happiness ascending", you will follow the counsels 
 which she now gives you. I enjoin you at no future 
 period, either by personal communication or by epis- 
 tolary correspondence, to require from me any expla- 
 nation of the reason which has now actuated me to inter- 
 fere on the subject of a letter which you have written to 
 Lord Dufresne ; the purport of that letter, I hesitate 
 not to acknowledge, has been communicated to me, and 
 whatever may be ray private sentiments of the manner 
 in which you have conducted yourself on the occasion 
 which gave rise to your epistle, I now enjoin you, if 
 you entertain the slightest affection for your mother, 
 if you wish not to see every avenue closed to the 
 establishment of her future happiness, to desist from 
 all further interference in the affair of Mr. Moncktoa 
 and the victim of his unbridled passions. You may 
 heap conjecture upon conjecture as to the cause 
 which may have prompted me to impose upon you 
 this injunction, but the deeper you penetrate, the fur- 
 ther you will be from the truth. Start not at the 
 v/ords which I am now about to transcribe ; but, 
 with the most solemn appeal to heaven, I swear it to 
 you, that your mother's life in a great degree depends 
 upon your strict obedience to the injunction which 
 she now imposes upon you. On that obedience 
 hangs the weal or woe of many who to you are un- 
 known ; or, if known, whose secret relations exclude 
 you from all active interest in their behalf. Had you 
 ever known your father, I would now invoke his 
 spirit to join with me in my remonstrance to deter 
 you from the line of conduct which you are now pur- 
 suing, and to induce you to desist from any further 
 2g2
 
 452 FITZALLAN. 
 
 annoyance to Mr. Monckton, and, consequently, to 
 the family to which he belongs. 
 
 " Your truly affectionate mother, 
 
 " E. FiTZAI.LAN." 
 
 The perusal of this letter plunged Fitzallan into a 
 conflict of conjectures, of doubt, and suspicion, which 
 had never before assailed his mind ; and he stood 
 actually before the stranger, as if the horn of Oberon 
 had worked its influence upon him, the resemblance 
 more of a statue than of a living being. 
 
 " Now, young man," said the stranger, with an 
 assumed air of dignity, "what answer shall I convey 
 to my employer? In regard to your mother, I leave 
 the question between you and her to be decided by 
 your own filial feelings." 
 
 " I hesitate not to declare," said Fitzallan, " that 
 in regard to the imperative order of Lord Dufresne, 
 I should not hesitate a moment in refusing to obey 
 it, and educated as I have been in the inflexible and 
 uncompromising principles of honour and integrity, 
 I cannot at this moment bring myself to recede from 
 the task which I have imposed upon myself, of 
 avenging the wrongs which an amiable female has 
 sustained, even though ordered to refrain by the in- 
 junction of my parent. It is not only possible, but 
 highly probable, that the feelings of my mother may 
 have been worked upon by a specious statement of 
 the affair, and she may thereby have unknowingly 
 lent herself to espouse the cause of an individual, 
 ■whose conduct ought to be execrated by every feehng- 
 and generous mind."
 
 FITZALLAN. 453 
 
 " I came not hither," said the stranger, " to dis- 
 cuss with you the propriety or impropriety of the 
 conduct which any of the interested parties may have 
 chosen to adopt. What answer am I to bear to your 
 mother ?" 
 
 " Then," said Fitzallan," eagerly seizing the ad- 
 vantage which this incautious speech of the stranger 
 gave him, " as you are to be the bearer of my answer 
 to my mother, you are consequently able to inform 
 me where she is." 
 
 " Ah !" said the stranger, with a smile, " do you 
 imagine that the hairs of my head have now been 
 whitening for the last sixty years to be outwitted by 
 an almost beardless youth? Your answer to your 
 mother will be conveyed through a channel, of which 
 I am utterly ignorant. As an agent I can only 
 execute the commission with which I have been in- 
 trusted, considering that I am not liable to enter 
 into discussion on any collateral points, or to divulge 
 any particulars, which might prove to be at variance 
 with the interests of my employers." 
 
 " You can perhaps, however, entertain no objec- 
 tion to answer me one question. Does any intimacy 
 exist between Lord Dufresne and my mother, or 
 have you ever seen her the inmate of his Lordship's 
 house ?" 
 
 " Two questions," said the stranger, " which con- 
 vince me that you have formed a very erroneous 
 opinion of my character. Secrecy becomes on all 
 points the confidential agent ; but without pretending 
 to know the tenour of your mother's letter, I will so 
 far trespass the bounds of my instructions, as to de-
 
 454 FITZALLAN. 
 
 clare that I know your mother to be particularly in- 
 terested in your refraining; from all further interference 
 in Mr. Monckton's affair ; and that if you persist in 
 your present intentions, the consequence to her, and 
 I will add, to yourself, may be of the most serious 
 nature." 
 
 " Excuse me the question," said Fitzallan, " which 
 I am now going to put to you." 
 
 " No more questions," exclaimed the stranger, 
 moving towards the door. 
 
 " Have I not the honour," said Fitzallan, " of 
 speaking to Lord Dufresne himself?'* 
 
 " Who, or what I am," said the stranger, " time 
 will show ; but I will now use a peremptory tone. 
 Obey the injunction of your mother, or your eyes 
 have seen her for the last time in this world." 
 
 " Mysterious man !" said Fitzallan, " your every 
 word has^ convinced me that you stand in some close 
 relation with my mother, and I look upon myself as 
 the sport of some inflexible destiny, against which it 
 is madness in me to contend. Tell my mother, how- 
 ever, to have some compassion upon me, and not to 
 throv/ a restraint upon my actions, where virtue, 
 integrity, and honour are their leading principles." 
 
 ' Ere long you will see me again," said the 
 stranger, " and when you least expect it. Be pru- 
 dent, be circumspect; follow the advice of those, 
 who, although they appear before you in the suspi- 
 cious garb of mystery, and consequently of distrust, 
 are still working in secret for your future interests; 
 and who, like some invisible spirits, are in constant 
 attendance upon your steps, to warn you of any
 
 FITZALLAN. 455 
 
 danger into which the imprudence or impetuosity of 
 youth may impel you. I charge you, however, with 
 one injunction : — make no inquiry after me ; let not 
 a syllable of this interview be communicated to Mr. 
 Monckton ; and in the fulfilm.ent of that injunction, 
 you will find your own interests promoted. Fare- 
 well." 
 
 The stranger hastily closed the door after him, and 
 left Fitzallan a prey to the most conflicting conjec- 
 tures. The conduct of his mother now appeared to 
 him deeper involved in mystery than heretofore ; and 
 although he racked his ingenuity to the utmost to 
 discover in what manner the affair of Monckton and 
 Arnfeld's daughter could operate upon his future 
 happiness, or in what particular it could have that 
 serious reference to his mother, as almost to implicate 
 her life ; yet, after viewing it through every possible 
 medium, after calling to his aid every relation in 
 which he knew his mother formerly stood ; after sub- 
 mitting every action in which he knew that his 
 mother was ever engaged to the most rigid scrutiny, 
 and tracing it through all its ramifications, he could 
 not discover a single clue to guide him through the 
 labyrinth in which he found himself entangled ; on 
 the contrary, the more he essayed to discover a 
 glimpse of light, the deeper did the darkness increase 
 around him. This unexpected interview with the 
 stranger led however to one resolve, which was, that 
 he would, as soon as he could arrange his affairs, 
 take his leave of the town, in which he had learned 
 to know one object, who had called into action the 
 first affections of his heart, but from whose society he
 
 456 FITZALLAN. 
 
 was soon to be estranged for ever as the acknowledged 
 wife of another. That tie being broken, he had little 
 to bind him to his present place of residence ; and 
 he hoped in the retirement of his mother's mansion, 
 and in the pursuits of elegant literature, to distract 
 his mind from the remembrance of those scenes, 
 which had formed the happiness of his early days. 
 There was, also, another reason which induced him to 
 •carry that resolve into almost immediate execution, 
 and that was the declining health of his estimable 
 friend and tutor, Mr. Bode. For a length of time 
 the traces of a mortal disease had been unfortunately 
 loo apparent, to escape even the detection of those, 
 who were continually about his person, and the only 
 chance of relief which his physicians held out to him 
 was a change of air, and a removal to those scenes, 
 where the mind, in the contemplation of their beauty, 
 might be relieved from that dull uniformity and in- 
 sipidity, which are ever the attendants on a town 
 residence. 
 
 The truth must not be disguised, that although 
 Pitzallan had not by any direct personal conduct in 
 the least diminished the high regard which Mr. Bode 
 had ever entertained for him, yet the peculiarity in 
 the circumstances under which he was placed, the 
 mysterious conduct of his mother, his attachment to 
 Lady Amelia Fortescue, and his late aifair with Sir 
 Henry Montfort, all of which he had not attempted 
 to keep concealed from Mr. Bode, and which natu- 
 rally tended to augment the responsibility which was 
 attached to his situation, had preyed considerably on 
 his mental spirits, and frequently urged him to solicit
 
 riTZALLAN. 457 
 
 his dismissal from a situation, in which he saw, if he 
 retained it much longer, he might be implicated in 
 some very unpleasant proceedings, and for which 
 the blame might be imputed to himself. In regard 
 to his dismissal, his request was always met with the 
 most decided opposition ; and the last time in which 
 it was tendered, the refusal to accept of it was ac- 
 companied with a legal instrument by Mrs. Fitzallan, 
 securing to him the annuity of five hundred pounds, 
 on condition that he would remain as the friend and 
 adviser of her son, until such circumstances took 
 ^, place which would place him in that condition of life to 
 /which he was born. In regard, however, to any 
 control which Mr. Bode possessed over his youthful 
 charge, there appeared in the character of Fitzallaa 
 such a decided disposition to act for himself, inde- 
 pendently of all foreign interference or control, that, 
 in many instances, he listened with the most profound 
 attention to the advice and admonitions of his friend, 
 acknowledged the justice and prudence of the step 
 which was proposed, and then in a few moments 
 i.: afterwards acted in direct opposition to it. It was 
 afnatural to suppose that Mr. Bode was no sooner 
 Tii informed of the purport of the stranger's visit, and 
 • the imperative injunction conveyed to Fitzallaa 
 through that medium from his mother, than he used 
 his most strenuous efforts to confirm him in the duty 
 which he owed to a very indulgent parent, and in- 
 duce him to desist momentarily from all further in- 
 terference in the very unpleasant business, which^ 
 although the cause was not exactly known, had excited 
 so particularly the attention of his mother.
 
 458 FITZALLAN. 
 
 Various are the ways in which the philosopher 
 attempts to account for the actions of an individual, 
 and equally various are the blunders which the said 
 philosopher commits in the decisions which he makes. 
 According to what particular rule the philosopher 
 would have judged of the character of Fitzallan, 
 from the line of conduct which he pursued, in con- 
 sequence of the injunction of his mother, backed by 
 the powerful advice and influence of Mr. Bode, must 
 ever remain one of those problems which no mathe- 
 matician can ever solve ; in some measure, however, 
 it must be attributed to the total absence of mind in 
 which Fitzallan was plunged during the whole of the 
 admonitory lessons of Mr. Bode ; and that, although 
 apparently he was attentively listening to every word, 
 his thoughts were so far wandering toother subjects, 
 that not one single word which Mr. Bode uttered 
 made any sensible impression on his ear ; from which 
 it followed that, at the termination of the lecture, he 
 was almost as ignorant of the real intent of the words 
 which Mr. Bode had uttered as an Irish Catholic is 
 of the language in which his prayers are doled out to 
 him from the mouth of his priest. 
 
 Dissatisfied with himself, at variance with every 
 thing around him, quarrelHng with every boy, who 
 inadvertently pushed against him, and kicking every 
 dog that crossed him in his path, as he pursued a 
 kind of diagonal course down the street, blaming the 
 sun for giving too much light, and the moon for 
 giving too little, Fitzallan determined, although it was 
 nearly night, to take an excursive walk amidst some 
 of his most favourite scenes ; and so little are the re-
 
 F IT Z ALLAN. 459 
 
 solves of a man under the tone of mind in which 
 Fitzallan then was to be relied upon, that, on a sud- 
 den, finding himself at the entrance of the theatre, he 
 suddenly changed his mind, and being then sick of the 
 w orld in reality, he wished to confirm himself in that 
 idea, by seeing it in effigy. On his entrance the 
 house was but very scantily occupied, and he was 
 sealed very unsociably in a box by himself, listening to 
 the beautiful adagio movement in the overture to Der 
 Freischiitz, when the door of the adjoining box opened, 
 and Sir Henry Montfort presented himself, handing 
 in the Countess of Glencoe, Lady Amelia Fortescue, 
 and Julia Manners. If a degree of embarrassment 
 sat upon the behaviour of Fitzallan, on viewing the 
 only object on earth whom he loved so unexpectedly 
 in his presence, how much greater was the confusion 
 which displayed itself in the blushes of Lady Amelia, 
 when her look met that of Fitzallan, at the same 
 time that with that look there was intermingled that 
 matchless expression of the female eye, which speaks 
 of alarm when a beloved object is in danger. In the 
 conduct of Sir Henry, on observing his hated anta- 
 gonist so near to him, there shone, all the hauteur 
 and offended pride of the consequential nobleman ; 
 for on his brow sat the deep scowl of scorn, and the 
 uptossed lip spoke the contempt which he entertained 
 for one so much his inferior. It was also evident to 
 Fitzallan, from the demeanour of the Countess, that 
 she participated strongly in the feelings of her future 
 son-in law, for it was marked with all the stiffness 
 and formality of the individual, who has some cause 
 to repudiate a former acquaintance, and yet whom
 
 460 FITZALLAN. 
 
 the common courtesies of life oblige you to acknow- 
 ledge. The situation of Fitzallan was one of ex- 
 treme poignancy ; to enter into any famiUar inter- 
 course with either Lady Amelia or Miss Manners 
 might expose him to an immediate altercation with 
 their haughty companion ; to desist from it altogether 
 might subject him to the imputation of pusillanimity, 
 or of a departure from the established rules of com- 
 mon politeness. In this moment of irresolution, in 
 this disheartening conflict between love and pride, ia 
 which on the one side all the noblest feelings of 
 liuman nature were arrayed ; and on the other, it 
 must be confessed, some of its darkest passions, as if 
 by one of those strange coincidences, which act 
 sometimes with such a powerful influence on the life 
 of man, appearing like the inspirations of some 
 supernatural beings, the band struck up the very air 
 which Fitzallan had played to Amelia on the night 
 of their first meeting, and which, in the sunny hours 
 of her secret love, she had played o'er and o'erag*ain, 
 bringing to her imagination the form of him from 
 whom she first had heard them. Among the various 
 associations which bring back to the memory the 
 scenes of former days, perhaps there is no one more 
 powerful than some almost forgotten song, which, on 
 a sudden striking upon the ear, opens every cell in 
 which remembrance slept, and before us start agaia 
 the lineaments of those from whose lips we may first 
 have heard them, and perhaps in that most trying 
 of all moments, when the face was obliged to put on 
 the semblance of gaiety, whilst within the heart 
 was breaking. And if those in whose presence we
 
 FITZALLAN. 461 
 
 first heard those airs are, as it were, now dead to us ; 
 if an implacable destiny has torn us from them, never, 
 never again to meet — oh I then how welcome is the 
 sound which brings their images back to us, in 
 every chord of which we think we hear the voice of 
 one whom once we loved, and a tear then starts into 
 our eye, as if we heard the expiring tone of a solemn 
 requiem to the faultless spirit of a child beloved. 
 There are sounds that in our youthful days we have 
 heard, which even now, when human villainy and 
 treachery have done their utmost to cauterize our heart 
 against every gentle feeling which once our nature 
 owned, that were we now again to hear them, in that 
 same moment would flash before us scenes, and 
 forms, and images, which gave to our life its happi- 
 ness, and the separation from which gave to our life 
 its misery. 
 
 By what power of sympatliy it was effected, that 
 the first sounds of the well-known air had no sooner 
 reached the ears of Lady Amelia and Fitzallan, than 
 their looks, as if involuntarily, met each other, must 
 be left to the decision of individuals deeper versed in 
 the operations of the human heart than we profess to 
 be. But if a ray of light can be analyzed by the 
 power of the prism, telling its component colours, 
 why exists there not some equally forcible power, 
 which can declare to us all the feelings, which a 
 •woman's look expresses? It is said to he a language 
 intelligible to all, and for the understanding of which 
 no other preceptress is necessary than nature herself; 
 it is in itself innate and intuitive, and he who requires
 
 462 FITZALLAN. 
 
 a vocabulary to define it, must be himself a specimen 
 of nature's bungling. 
 
 It is said, that when a beam of light mingles with 
 its sister beam in their creative spirit, a double efful- 
 gence is produced. The ray that shot from Amelia's 
 eye, and mingled with that from Fitzallaa's, in their 
 concentrated force, penetrated to the heart of the 
 former, and there distilled, drew forth a pearl, which 
 rising to the eye, glittered there a tear, which, trem- 
 bling for a moment in the eye-lash, trickled down the 
 cheek ; and that for which Fitzallan would have 
 given a monarch's crown, fell unnoticed on the ground. 
 A glance of the eye directed by love has ere now 
 decided the fate of an empire ; but if that glance had 
 been accompanied with a tear, Vv'here is the power on 
 earth that could withstand it? It was the first tear 
 that Fitzallan could say to himself— it is for me that 
 it is shed ; and at that moment there was no em- 
 prize too great for him, no danger that he would not 
 have encountered, if hope had whispered to him, 
 that the being who had shed that tear was by Hea- 
 ven destined to be his. But between him and that 
 bliss stood a hated fiend, and that fiend was now 
 sitting by her side inhaling her very breath, hearing 
 the pulsation of her heart, banqueting on the view 
 of charms, which only shone at times on earth, like 
 some meteor in the heavens, to show how near that Na- 
 ture could approach in her attempt to form an angel. 
 
 In the midst of these feeHngs, which in their nature 
 were nearer allied to heaven than earth, as far as the 
 presence of a beloved object could impart them,
 
 FITZALLAN. 463 
 
 there was one, which on a sudden seemed to oppress 
 him with an unusual weight ; and that arose from 
 the idea, that his immediate presence, and in such 
 close association as in the adjoining box, was evidently- 
 regarded by Lady Amelia with the most positive 
 indications of alarm ; for the purpose, therefore, of 
 ensuring her peace, he considered that it was incum- 
 bent on him to betake himself to some other part of 
 the theatre. It was evident to him that the part 
 which Lady Amelia and Julia had to act was one of 
 great difficulty and perplexity. They were prevented 
 by the presence of Sir Henry Montfort from entering 
 into any conversation with him, or in fact of taking 
 even the most distant notice of him ; Fitzallan, 
 therefore, saw at once the painful situation in which 
 they were placed ; and, bowing respectfully to them, 
 retired from the box. 
 
 There was, however, an eye in another part of the 
 theatre, which, from his entrance into it, had been 
 incessantly fixed upon him ; and he was standing in 
 the lobby, irresolute whether to return home or to 
 stop to witness the performance, when he was accosted 
 by one of his acquaintance, informing him, that a seat 
 in Mr. Gordon's box was much at his service, and 
 that it would be particularly agreeable to Miss Gordon 
 if he would join their party. 
 
 There are periods in life in which we act from the 
 sudden impulse of the moment, without giving our- 
 selves time to reflect how far the decision to which 
 we then arrive is compatible with our happiness, or 
 conducive to the promotion of our interests. Fitz- 
 allan may be said at this moment to have had little
 
 4G4 FITZALLAN. 
 
 or no control over himself; his ideas were all in 
 confusion ; but still we draw no caricature of human 
 nature when we say, that in the moments of our 
 greatest greatness, when we fancy that we are actually 
 standing on the apex of human perfection, we are 
 generally at the very base of it. We know the motive 
 which swayed the breast of Fitzallan to accept of the 
 invitation of the Gordons without apparently a mo- 
 ment's hesitation, and we do not shrink from avow- 
 ing that Fitzallan in this instance exhibited himself 
 in the true character of man ; that is, that although 
 in the possession of many eminent virtues, he is not 
 without his corresponding share of vices ; or which, 
 in indulgence, we ought, a la fa^on de nos freres 
 nouvelistes, to designate, considering that it is our 
 hero who exhibits them, as common excusable weak- 
 nesses. Oh ! there is something irresistibly capti- 
 vating in the idea, and it is one which may be con- 
 sidered as almost indigenous to the female character, 
 to excite a spirit of jealousy in a heart where an un- 
 equivocal proof of love has displayed itself, and 
 actuated by a malicious spirit, by no means very 
 laudable, to play the part of a tormentor, little think- 
 ing at the time how deep the wound may be that 
 such conduct may inflict. 
 
 The box which Adeline Gordon occupied was 
 exactly opposite to that which was honoured by con- 
 taining the person of Sir Henry Montfort, Baronet, 
 &c. &c. &c. ; and no new elected city churchwarden 
 at his first parochial dinner, when he astounds his 
 auditors with his eulogiums on the viieness of the 
 weal, the flavour of the wenison, or the wery winous
 
 FITZ ALLAN. 465 
 
 flavour of the vines ; no alderman at his inauguration 
 dinner, the prelude to his assumption of his magis- 
 terial duties and to the enviable occupation of deciding, 
 in the elevated chair of the mansion-house, the diffi- 
 cult and knotty point of tlie affiliation of an unfortu- 
 nate illegitimate ; no author, who, perhaps, seated in 
 the very box then occupied by Sir Henry Montfort, 
 sees the ominous green curtain drop, whilst the house 
 is in an uproar of applause at the intrinsic excellence 
 of the first-born bantling of his genius ; not one of 
 these three celebrated characters (for are they not 
 all celebrated in their peculiar department?) could 
 possibly deport himself with greater dignity and self- 
 complacency than did Sir Henry Montfort, seated as 
 he then was between two glowing beauties, and one 
 of them, one of the most splendid, the most angelic 
 of her sex. Wherever female beauty is, there will 
 the eye be attracted, and perhaps, had nature selected 
 two of her most favourite master-pieces, who, in form, 
 in make, in shape, in every thing which is supposed 
 to constitute the standard of feminine beauty, were ta 
 exhibit on earth the type of the inhabitants of heaven, 
 she could not, perhaps, have selected two more fitted 
 for her purpose than Amelia Fortescue and Adeline 
 Gordon ; and never did the heart of the latter beat 
 with prouder emotions, mixed with all the malice of 
 her sex, when she found Fitzallan seated by her side, 
 and ever and anon saw the look of her hated rival 
 directed towards her, with all the scorn and contempt 
 which are so natural to the female, when she fancies 
 that another has robbed her of her lover. If it were 
 possible to establish a scale of hatred, and to fix the 
 
 VOL. I. 2 II
 
 466 FITZALLAN. 
 
 maximum at 100, the degree at which the hatred of 
 a girl for her rival would stand would be 99. Whe- 
 ther it had risen to that height in the breast of Amelia 
 Fortescue for Adeline Gordon, or vice versa, of 
 Adeline Gordon for Amelia Fortescue, can only be 
 decided by those who are greater adepts than our- 
 selves in analyzing the female character, but so far 
 we are enabled to state upon the most unquestionable 
 authority, that when Lady Amelia directed her eyes 
 to the box in which sat Adeline Gordon, and saw by 
 her side Hector Fitzallan, apparently in the enjoyment 
 of the most confidential intercourse, a feeling very 
 nearly akin to the 99th degree of hatred did cer- 
 tainly arise in her breast, and if the power had then 
 been invested in her, she would undoubtedly have 
 sent the said Adeline Gordon to be the companion of 
 Proserpine in a certain place, of which our forefathers 
 have told us much ; with the horrors of which the 
 Methodists, Calvinists, and Independents of the pre- 
 sent day frighten us most abominably ; and respecting 
 the site of which, the same liberal and enlightened 
 trio are as much divided in their opinions, as they are 
 resrardina: the most direct and convenient road to 
 another place directly opposite. 
 
 We believe it is not necessary to repeat, that v/e 
 are decidedly opposed to the deification of Mr. 
 Hector Fitzallan, although we are not so ignorant of 
 the heathen mythology, as not to know that many- 
 ladies and gentlemen of the olden times, have been 
 promoted to the rank of goddesses and gods for far 
 less virtue than the hero of this tale has exhibited ; 
 therefore, in accordance with that principle we will
 
 FITZALLAN. 467 
 
 represent Fitzallan as a mere human creature, with 
 some of the faults natural to that species of animal, 
 but which the spavajis of the age confidently expect to 
 see greatly modified in proportion as the millenium 
 approaches, and all of which is to be effected by the 
 power of sectarianism, proselytism, prayer-meetings, 
 love-feasts, and steam. 
 
 Had Fitzallan at this particular juncture of his life 
 been under the influence of a noble and generous 
 spirit, he would, perhaps, have forborne to inflict the 
 slightest degree of pain on the heart of Lady Amelia, 
 by any studied display of attention or of familiarity 
 towards Adeline Gordon, but if a conspiracy had been 
 entered into between him and his lovely companion 
 to devise the most effectual scheme for rousing all 
 the jealousy so natural to the female, a more efficient 
 one could not have been adopted than that which was 
 practised on this occasion. In fact, the extreme fa 
 miliarity, the freedom from all restraint, the jocula 
 rity, and the many proofs of kindness, which Fitzallan 
 displayed towards his companion, was in some de- 
 gree an enigma to Adeline herself, especially in the 
 presence of one before whom it would have been 
 expected that he would have been particularly 
 guarded in his conduct, and have abstained from the 
 commission of any act, which was in the least liable 
 to give offence. It was, however, a mood of which 
 Adeline knew well how to take every advantage. She 
 met the familiarity of Fitzallan by a corresponding 
 spirit, and she threw over the whole of her demeanour 
 such an air of fascination, which added to the power 
 of her superlative beauty, would have entranced any 
 2 II 2
 
 468 FITZALLAN. 
 
 youthful heart which was not preoccupied, and even 
 to some hearts in that situation, the trial would have 
 been one of the greatest severity. Adeline Gordon, 
 however, was now in her glory; she beheld herself in 
 a situation, which of all others, she had most anxiously 
 looked for ; she saw herself the selected companion 
 of the only individual on whose heart it was her 
 secret desire to make an impression, and that too in 
 the public presence of one in whose breast she had 
 every reason to believe there glowed the fire of a 
 secret love. In regard to the scenes of the drama, 
 which were then enacting before them, neither Ade- 
 line nor Fitzallan appeared to pay the slightest atten- 
 tion, so completely did they seem absorbed in the 
 subject of their conversation; and from some cause 
 not difficult to be accounted for. Sir Henry Montfort 
 was frequently obliged to rouse one of his fair com- 
 panions from a kind of abstraction of thought into 
 which she had fallen, in order to induce her to pay 
 even the slightest attention to the illusion which was 
 passing before her. 
 
 The conversation v.hich had hitherto passed be- 
 tween Adeline Gordon and Fitzallan was of that 
 light and frivolous character, which, in the refined 
 and polished circles, is known by the appellation of 
 small talk, in which a number ot words are pro- 
 nounced, but from which little or no sense at all can 
 be extracted. On a sudden, as if by the mere im- 
 pulse of the moment, and without any premeditated de- 
 sign, she asked, " Have you seen Monckton to-day?'* 
 
 ,*' I have no particular desire," said Fitzallan, " to 
 seek the society of Mr. Monckton."
 
 riTZALLAN. 469 
 
 *' He was taken most completely by surprise, to- 
 day," said Adeline; " he was playing a game of chess 
 with me when his servant came in a great hurry, 
 announcing the arrival of his father.'' 
 
 " Of Lord Dufresne '." exclaimed Fitzallan, under 
 the most visible emotion of surprise. 
 
 " The same,*' answered Adeline ; " and I can 
 assure you, his unexpected arrival gave no little un- 
 easiness to Monckton." 
 
 " Have you seen Monckton since his interview 
 with his father?" asked Fitzallan. 
 
 " i have not," answered Adeline, " and I am very 
 anxious to see him, as I am certain the visit of his 
 father must have been occasioned by some business of 
 the most urgent necessity, or otherwise, I do not 
 think that Monckton would have broken his engage- 
 ment to attend me to the theatre this evening." 
 
 Fitzallan sank into a train of reflections not of the 
 most pleasing nature, and which involved him in an 
 embarrassment which was too visible in the whole of 
 his manner to escape the penetrating eye of Adeline. 
 It was then actually Lord Dufresne, thought Fitzallan 
 to himself, from which it is certain that some connexion 
 subsists between him and my mother ; and then his 
 imperative injunction, as if it were the mandate of a 
 parent : hence, perhaps, the existing cause for all the 
 mystery and secrecy that have been observed. These 
 ideas passed in such rapid succession across his mind, 
 that he could not fix upon any individual one which 
 could lead him to a decisive result. Project after pro- 
 ject arose in his head, but each was rejected to make 
 way for one more preposterous and extravagant than
 
 470 FITZALLAN. 
 
 the former ; at all events he determined on the fol- 
 lowing" morning to discover the residence of Lord 
 Dufresne, with the hope of inducing him, now that 
 he had arrived at his real name and station, to enter 
 into a more explicit explanation of the particular rela- 
 tion in which he stood with his mother. 
 
 The drama had now lost all interest for Fitzallan, 
 that is, if it ever possessed any, for his mind was so 
 engrossed with other subjects, that if Pasta had been 
 warbling her heavenly strains, or Taglioni, redolent 
 of grace, that goddess of our Terpsichorean adoration, 
 had been bounding, fawn-like over the stage, he would, 
 perhaps, have heeded them not. Adeline also ex- 
 pressed herself tired with the scene, and proposed 
 returning home, inviting Fitzallan to take his supper 
 with her. He cast one look towards the box in 
 which Lady Amelia was sitting, but she was at that 
 moment attending to some remark of her most sen- 
 sible and instructive companion, and in a few mo- 
 ments after he left the theatre. 
 
 But how are we to account for the sudden paleness 
 which came over the countenance of Lady Amelia, 
 when on directing her look to the box, formerly occu- 
 pied by Fitzallan, she saw it deserted ? to what cause 
 is to be attributed the dizziness which on a sudden 
 afflicted her? or the mist which swam before her vision, 
 rendering every object that was before distinct and 
 clear, confused and undefined? The change which 
 her countenance underwent was too decidedly appa- 
 rent not to attract the notice of Julia, and without 
 stopping to inquire the cause, or raising that bustle 
 and fluster which certain officious ladies arc too apt
 
 FITZALLAN. 471 
 
 to do in similar occasions, laying every smelling 
 bottle or vinaigrette under contribution that is to be 
 found within the sphere of their reach, or making 
 those heavy drains upon the tanks and reservoirs in 
 the neighbourhood, as if the suiFerer were in a state of 
 conflagration, and the aid of one of Hadley and Simp- 
 kins's engines was requisite to extinguish it. Julia 
 Manners, who suspected the cause of Lady Amelia's 
 embarrassment, advised her immediate retirement 
 from the theatre, alleging to Sir Henry, that it was 
 a matter past all doubt that the heat of the theatre 
 was by far too great for her Ladyship to support. 
 Sir Henry declared that he had himself found the 
 theatre excessively hot, and therefore, it was by no 
 means wondrous that 'Lady Amelia should also 
 have experienced the same injurious effects. The 
 fresh air. Sir Henry thought, might be of great ad- 
 vantage to her, or, perhaps, a little vinegar, or the 
 smoke of a piece of brown paper ; but Lady Amelia 
 was herself very soon able to inform the Baronet, 
 that she begged leave to dispense with any of his 
 specifics ; for that it was merely a temporary matter, 
 an affair scarcely worthy of any notice. Sir Henry 
 was, however, fully convinced that he was imperiously 
 called upon to interfere in a case of this sort, and 
 consequently, that it was a part of his duty to order 
 the carriage to stop at the first apothecary's, in order 
 that a supply of the necessary restoratives should be 
 obtained in case of a relapse ; a thing, he said, by no 
 means uncommon, nor of rare occurrence, according 
 to the extent of his own experience, nor could all the 
 protestations of Lady Amelia, nor the arguments of
 
 472 FITZALLAN. 
 
 Julia, convince him that he had formed a wrong* 
 estimate of the affair, and that he had in reahty 
 clothed it with an importance which it did not deserve. 
 Coutequi coilte, thecarriag-e was ordered to stop, but, 
 unfortunately for Lady Amelia, the fates seemed to 
 have entered that evening into a conspiracy how far 
 they could put her feelings upon the rack, and bring 
 an anguish over her heart, which beins^ obliged to bear 
 in secret, becomes at last too intense to be supported. 
 Opposite to the elaboratory in which Sir Henry had 
 entered with all the bustling consequence of the most 
 pressing exigency, stood the residence of Adeline 
 Gordon. The night was beautifully serene ; the 
 windows of the drawing-room were open ; Lady 
 Amelia heard the voice of Fitzallan, accompanying 
 himself on the piano-forte, singing one of her most 
 favourite airs, and one which to her was peculiarly 
 dear, as from his lips she first had heard it ; she 
 could see Adeline sitting by his side, in a-ll the happy 
 confidence of a reciprocal affection, one of her arms 
 was resting- on his shoulder, and strange and cold 
 must have been the feelings of that man who would 
 not have kissed the hand that hung- so near to his 
 hps. Whether Fitzallan did in reality kiss that hand 
 is one of those secrets in hislife, which we are not autho- 
 rized at present to divulge ; at all events, of one thing 
 we are certain, that if he did not kiss it, he would stand 
 depreciated in the opinion of ninety nine out of a 
 hundred of the female readers of his eventful life. 
 Whatever may have been the scene, which Lady Amelia 
 witnessed, it is, however, certain that by the time 
 when Sir Henry re-entered the carriage with his
 
 riTZALLAN. 473 
 
 chosen collection of restoratives, the individual for 
 whom they were intended was actually more in need 
 of them than at any other previous period of the 
 night. Nature will, however, sometimes step in 
 with its benevolent aid, and in a moment when the 
 heart is ready to break, will call forth into action some 
 dormant passion, which for a time bears the ascen- 
 dency, and gives the sufferer a momentary triumph. 
 Pride ! thou art a power that achievest wonders ; by 
 thy secret agency, thou canst give spirit to the weak, 
 resolution to the wavering, and when despair with its 
 sickly brood surrounds us, thou comest forth as some 
 commanding genius, and with thy torch on high 
 leadest us to brighter and to fairer scenes. 
 
 " Then be it so," said Lady Amelia to herself, "he 
 loves another ; then henceforth I'll think no more of 
 him. I'll tear his image from my breast, and be 
 unto myself as if it never existed there. He thinks 
 me unworthy of him, he is now breathing his vows of 
 unalterable love to another ; then will I show him 
 how soon a woman's love can turn to hate, how far 
 she can so alter her being, that all things become 
 changed to her, and every thing which bears a refer- 
 ence to an object once beloved, and which in other 
 hours might have been prized with all the holy fer- 
 vour of the pilgrim for his sainted relic, shall sink as 
 a worthless, valueless bauble to be thrown away 
 w ith all the indifference of the child for its mutilated 
 puppet." 
 
 So thought Lady Amelia to herself, and so accord- 
 ingly did Lady Amelia determine to act. But she 
 is not the hrst by many thousands of the lovely
 
 474 riTZ ALLAN. 
 
 daughters of Eve, who have formed similar resolu- 
 tions when they have laid their head upon their 
 pillow, and when the light of the morning has broken 
 upon them, have held those resolutions as a dream, 
 and as a dream have forgotten them. In the mean 
 time, however, these very wise and laudable resolu- 
 tions had the desired effect, for Sir Henry had no 
 occasion for the application of any of his restoratives; 
 and on the arrival of the party at home they were 
 consigned to the care of the footman, to be by him 
 consigned to the care of the housekeeper, and by her 
 to be kept in readiness whenever Sir Henry should 
 have occasion to call for them.
 
 PITZALLAN. 475 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 It roU'd within an orb of love, 
 
 Where light seem'd like a gleam of joy, 
 And brilliancy was soften'd down, 
 
 By something kind, and something coy. 
 But sometimes tears, like summer's rain, 
 
 Responded there to pity's sigh ; 
 Till pleasure lighted up again 
 
 The glory of her hazel ej^e. 
 
 And Adeline Gordon sat with her arm on the 
 shoulder of Fitzallan ; and now that there is no 
 Lady Amelia Fortescue as a secret witness to suffer 
 by the truth which we are obliged to tell, let it be 
 confessed, that Fitzallan did take the hand, which, 
 like a tempting fruit, hung before him, and that he 
 did imprint on it a kiss, as warm, as fervent, and as 
 ardent as ever burned on lover's lips before. We 
 have reason to believe, that considerino- the hii^h and 
 laudable strain of morality, decorum, and propriety 
 by which these pages have been hitherto distin- 
 guished, that consistently with the example of all 
 those who have travelled the road of human life before 
 us, we ought, on account of such act having been 
 committed by Fitzallan, and at that bewitching hour 
 when passion sometimes will speak in despite of all 
 the intrusions and interruptions of prudence and of 
 prudery, to have represented Adeline as bouncing from
 
 476 PITZ ALLAN. 
 
 her chair, her cheeks flushed with indignation at such 
 a gross and unwarrantable attack on her virtue, her 
 hair thrown into confusion by the agency of her digits 
 acting in the capacity of carding combs, her pulse 
 suddenly starting to a hundred and twenty-five, and 
 as audible as the pizzicato movements on Paganini's 
 violin, her whole frame in the tremulous motion of a 
 mass of blancmange, the ligature of her stays burst- 
 ing with a crack similar to that of the cable of a man 
 of war in a storm, the kerchief of her bosom so dis- 
 placed that a glimpse of those yielding orbs is ob- 
 tained, which should only be allowed to the invisible 
 spirit of her morning dreams ; these, and many other 
 well known insignia of a w^oman's counterfeit rage on 
 similar occasions might have been given with all the 
 accuracy of an historical narrative, until we had 
 arrived at that grand climax, w hen the poor unfor- 
 tunate falls upon the sofa in a most alarming hyste- 
 rical fit, from which we know some ladies have felt a 
 great reluctance to recover on account of the arms by 
 which they have felt themselves embraced, and by 
 which they have been so very feelingly supported 
 in their apparently helpless and unconscious state. 
 
 It happened, however, that Adeline Gordon, from, 
 let it be supposed, a positive ignorance on her part, 
 did not perform one single act of the drama which has 
 just now been laid down as the usual practice on 
 such occasions. She did not even give Fitzallan 
 that expressive and seductive tap on the cheek, ac- 
 companied with the usual exclamation of — Oh ! fie, 
 you naughty man ! but she gave him in return such 
 a smile, and such a look, that had his heart been an
 
 FITZALLAN. 477 
 
 iceberg it would have thawed it ; and in that moment 
 Fitzallan was convinced of the truth, that the boasted 
 wisdom and virtue of man are things of an unsubstan- 
 tial and baseless nature^ when they have to contend 
 against the all-powerful influence of feminine beauty. 
 Perhaps in no moment of their previous inter- 
 course did Adeline ever appear so bewitchingly 
 beautiful as in the present one ; her whole form 
 seemed to breathe voluptuousness and desire ; her 
 every action betrayed the existence of an internal 
 fire, consuming the object by which it was fed, and 
 diffusing its influence w herever a portion of inflam- 
 mable matter was to be found. To say that the 
 heart of Fitzallan was wholly destitute of any portiori 
 of that inflammable matter were wholly to belie its 
 nature ; but there are occasions in which the ignition 
 takes place with greater rapidity and strength than 
 in others, which occasions depend on a certain 
 combination of circumstances, which must have been 
 so well known and felt by every youth who has at- 
 tained the age of twenty, as not to require in the 
 present instance any particular mention to illustrate 
 the posiiion. The only question therefore now to 
 be decided is, whether such a combination of those 
 circumstances did actually take place in this interview 
 between Fitzallan and Adeline ; and if decided in 
 the affirmative, the consequence must naturally fol- 
 .ow, that the image of Amelia Fortescue, deeply as it 
 might be supposed to be engraven on his heart, was 
 for the time slightly effaced, and that he became a 
 willing slave to the fascination of the transcendent 
 beauty, which was so lavishly spread before him.
 
 478 FITZALLAN. 
 
 It was an hour which would for ever have decided 
 the fate of Fitzallan, and have bound him for the 
 remainder of his hfe in the tyrant chains of one of 
 the most dangerous of her sex, but that there was a 
 form which ever and anon presented itself to his 
 imagination, seeming to beckon him away, and with 
 an angel smile to lure him from his destruction. 
 Adeline seated herself on the sofa, taking in her hand 
 one of those costly melanges, ycleped an Annual, 
 when, turning over some of the leaves, she ex- 
 claimed, " Is not this a beautiful design of Cor- 
 bould's ?" 
 
 How was Fitzallan to judge of the beauty of the 
 design without an inspection of it? and how was 
 that inspection to be obtained, without placing himself 
 in a proper and convenient position ? and what posi- 
 tion could possibly be more convenient and proper 
 than by the side of the individual, who had challenged 
 his critical powers on so scientific a subject? Ac- 
 cordingly he did seat himself by her side, and the 
 merits of Corbould's design were entered into, al- 
 though neither of them cared a tittle about it, and in 
 reality knew not in what particular its merits were to 
 be looked for. 
 
 We have lived long enough in, and have seen enough 
 of the world to know that there are many ill-natured, 
 v/aspish, crabbed individuals in it, a caste parti- 
 cularly abounding amongst the sexagenarian virgins, 
 alias old maids, who are prone to put an evil con- 
 struction upon every act committed by a girl of 
 twenty ; and who, judging from their own feelings, 
 (in their own opinion the most infallible criterion of
 
 FITZ ALLAN. 479 
 
 human judgment,) consider that the aim of every 
 female through life has but one point, and that on 
 the manner in which that point is gained, depends 
 her claim to respectability and to esteem. It may 
 therefore happen that a very illiberal construction 
 may be put upon the invitation which Adeline gave 
 to Fitzallan to inspect the beauty of Corbould's 
 design ; and certainly, if the fact be taken into con- 
 sideration — that Fitzallan had no sooner taken his 
 seat, and given a cursory glance upon the picture 
 than the book was thrown aside, as if it were of no 
 further use, we must in candour confess, that we 
 cannot look upon the question of Corbould's design 
 in no other light than as one raised on a sudden by 
 the prolific fancy of the beautiful girl to mask her real 
 design, thereby to bring the beloved youth and her- 
 self in a state of immediate juxtaposition, and by the 
 power of contact to strike into his heart some flashes 
 of that electrical fire, by which all nature is animated, 
 and to which all creation owes its origin. 
 
 The female who has mingled in the world, and 
 has never been exposed to the ordeal of one of those 
 dangerous hours, from which so many of her sex too 
 often date their future misery, must be either in her 
 constitution similar to a senseless, inanimate clod ; 
 an oyster in her affections, or a biped polypus in her 
 love; or she must be one of those extraordinary com- 
 positions of nature, which now and then do emerge 
 from her great workshop, and in the formation of 
 which it has been forgotten to intermix certain 
 ingredients, in the absence of one of which, the 
 female is a mere automaton, a kind of stalking
 
 480 FIT Z ALL AN. 
 
 windmill without any sails, a nonentity, a nullity, a 
 nothing. 
 
 It may be stated, without any fear of contradic- 
 tion, that Adeline did not belong to either of those 
 classes of cold-blooded being-s ; for nature in her 
 composition had incorporated a double portion of her 
 elemental fire, and she covered that fire with an 
 exterior so nearly approachinjr to whatever the human 
 mind can conceive of feminine beauty, that to attempt 
 to resist it with the hope of victory, were equal to the 
 strug'gle of the pig-raiest of the pigmies against one of 
 those formidable giants of old, with whom to es- 
 tablish a new race of human beings on the earth, we 
 are told the angels travelled post from heaven. 
 
 It was night ; and in that one word how much is 
 centred, when a scene is to be depictured between 
 two such human beings as Adeline Gordon and 
 Hector Fitzallan ; and when silence, the twin-sister 
 of night, comes with her aid to give to their feelings 
 a resistless ibrce, and by their confederated power to 
 fill tlie heart with ecstasies, which in heaven's bounty 
 are given to man, to make this earth to liim a 
 paradise. 
 
 Their conversation at the outset took a desultory 
 turn, touching* on topics of no general interest, and 
 in which the affections of the heart were no more 
 concerned, than whether the wind blew from the east 
 or the west ; or whether an illegitimate sprig' of 
 royalty had been surreptitiously engrafted on the 
 ancient trunk of British nobility. It is, however, by 
 no means improbable, that subjects of the latter im- 
 port might for a time have engrossed their attention.
 
 FITZ ALLAN. 481 
 
 as they must naturally excite surprise in every breast, 
 in which the slightest sense of decorum, propriety, 
 or rectitude of conduct may be supposed to exist. 
 
 It is by no means a difficult task to trace the 
 associations of the human mind, and especially in 
 that of a female one, when the aim is to create a 
 direct allusion to some overpowering- passion, and 
 particularly if that passion be of the heart. The 
 opportunity which Adeline had so long- sought for — 
 to which all her plans and schemes were immediately 
 directed, and which may be designated as the ultima 
 thule of all her wishes, had now arrived. She had 
 by her side the individual on whom in secret she had 
 fixed her affections, and to gain which in return she 
 had used all the artifices, stratagems, and wiles, which 
 the most inventive of her sex could have devised, and 
 which few but herself would have had the spirit 
 to execute. Adeline was by no means ignorant of 
 the particular mode of deportment in which all the 
 power of the female is supposed to exist, and she also 
 knew that there is not any thing more repellent, nor 
 less likely to effect the desired end than a bold and 
 forward carriage, which gives the female the character 
 rather of the attacker than the attacked. A woman 
 to be won ought to be wooed ; a woman who is won 
 without wooing may enchain and enrapture us for 
 the moment, but it is a species of intoxication, the 
 excitation of which having subsided, leaves disgust 
 and aversion in its place. The contest which a 
 woman fights differs from all others, on the principle 
 that she conquers by retreating ; but when she com- 
 mits so great an error as to act upon the offensive, 
 
 VOL. I. 2 I
 
 482 riTZ ALLAN. 
 
 the object of her desiregenerally runs away from her, 
 and is lost altogether in the pursuit. 
 
 It cannot, however, have escaped the observation 
 of those who have been accustomed to trace the 
 coincidence of circumstances, that a trifie will some- 
 times bring about an event, which the most studied 
 industry, and the most indefatigable skill have failed 
 to produce. The hand of Adeline was lying care- 
 lessly in her lap, when Fitzallan took hold of it, re- 
 questing permission to examine a beautiful ring, 
 which adorned one of her fingers ; and, after looking 
 at it for some time, he said, " How highly fa- 
 voured must that individual be whose hair is enclosed 
 in that ring I" 
 
 " However high may be the estimation in which 
 I hold him," said Adeline, " to him il is of little 
 value.'"' 
 
 " He must be a singular compound of frigidity 
 and folly," said Fitzallan. 
 
 " Not so,"' said Adeline ; " but there are some 
 hearts which are as impervious to the influence of 
 love, as marble to the beam of the sun." 
 
 " Does that heart beat in this world," asked 
 Fitzallan, " which could close itself against a love 
 like yours? Can such a mass of inanimate matter be 
 found in the human shape, which would not be ex- 
 hilarated with a fresh life, to hear from lips like yours 
 the sound of love ?" 
 
 " I do not believe," said Adehne, " that the heart 
 to which I allude is one either of apathy or coldness; 
 but I have reason to suspect that the impression of 
 another love has been stamped upon it. Mine there-
 
 FITZALLAX. 483 
 
 fore is obliged to burn like the Testal lamp, known 
 oulv to its votary : and it will one day expire with 
 the power that fed it.'' 
 
 " But not. I hope," said Fitzallan, " until it has 
 burned with redoubled brig-htness in sweet commu- 
 nion with another flame." 
 
 " That is no hope of mine,'' said Adeline ; " it 
 might once have animated my heart, but every day, 
 even this very moment, confirms me in the belief, 
 that were I to confess my love, it would meet with 
 no return." 
 
 " Surely the present moment," said Fitzallan, 
 rather significantly, " cannot have any reference to 
 your love'?" 
 
 " Perhaps no more," said Adeline, '* than that the 
 hair, which this ring encloses once belonged to you; 
 both may have the same foundation in truth." 
 
 •' The case is possible," said Fitzallan, '' but very 
 far beyond the range of probability ; indeed, judging 
 from circumstances, I should consider it but one step 
 removed from the impossible." 
 
 " Is not that the case," asked Adehue, " with 
 every incident ? you cannot define to me the bounds 
 M'here probability ends, and impossibility begins." 
 
 " But in the present instance," said Fitzallan, 
 •' your comparison has not the slightest ground of 
 probability in it. To suppose, for a moment, that the 
 hair, which that ring contains, once was mine, is one 
 of those cases which stand on the very verge of im- 
 probability." 
 
 " And yet," said Adeline, with a most expressive 
 look, " it is not impossible." 
 2 I 2
 
 484 FITZALLAN. 
 
 " I grant that position," said Fitzallan ; " but to 
 suppose that Miss Adeline Gordon would so far 
 condescend as to place any value on a few hairs be- 
 longing to so liumble an individual as myself; and 
 still more, to wear them on her person as the remem- 
 brance of a beloved being, speaks at once its almost 
 demonstrable impossibility." 
 
 " Does not the hair resemble yours in colour ?" 
 asked Adeline. 
 
 " That is far from any proof," said Fitzallan; " it 
 is the colour of thousands besides myself" 
 
 " But perhaps you will tell me how you would 
 act under the following circumstances," said Adeline, 
 rising from the sofa, and taking something out of a 
 small casket which stood upon the table ; " this ring 
 is the counterpart of that which I wear, and contains 
 a lock of my own hair. Now, supposing you were 
 the individual whom I loved, and thus," taking the 
 hand of Fitzallan, "I were to place the ring upon 
 your finger, and bid you wear it as the remembrance 
 of an ill-requited love, how, under those circumstances, 
 would you act?" 
 
 A sudden light burst upon the astonished mind of 
 Fitzallan : he was in the presence, and under the 
 irresistible influence of one of heaven's masterpieces 
 of feminine beauty ; his eye banqueted on a bosom 
 formed in Nature's most perfect mould ; he was in- 
 haling her very breath ; his ear could catch the irre- 
 gular throbbings of her heart ; he felt himself spell- 
 bound, as if he stood in the magic circle of some 
 potent magician, and the next mom.ent was to decide 
 the destiny of his life. His hand was still encircled
 
 FITZALLAN. 485 
 
 m that of Adeline ; the ring was on his finger, he 
 feared to speak, nor in his confusion did he dare to 
 raise his look, to encounter one, which would at once 
 have broken the spell, and laid him prostrate at the 
 feet of the enchantress. But still there was a deep 
 ambiguity in her expression ; he might have mistaken 
 her meaning ; he might have applied that to himself, 
 which in reality had not the slightest reference to 
 him ; and how highly ridiculous would he then 
 appear in her eyes, to imagine himself the object of 
 her love, when as yet her words had been so purely 
 enigmatical, that he might have put whatever con- 
 struction he pleased upon them, being equally ex- 
 pressive the one way as the other. In this state of 
 contradictory feehng, in this whirl of passion, when 
 self-control has lost its power, and man is impelled 
 to and fro like the down blown from the thistle's 
 head, without being able to fix upon any settled 
 mode of action, Fitzallan, as if by some involuniary 
 motion, pressed the hand of Adeline. In a moment 
 their looks met each other ; and in those looks what 
 language was not conveyed ! — they spoke not ; words 
 appeared to be a profanation of their feelings ; and, 
 like those two Indian deities, who, in the early, youth- 
 ful, and guiltless age of nature enjoyed each other by 
 the fire of their eyes ; so did the eyes of Adeline and 
 Fitzallan express in the most intelligible manner all 
 desires, questions, answers, prayers, and protesta- 
 tions. 
 
 It was a moment, which those who have happily 
 known, engrave on their memory never to be oblite- 
 rated but with the last gasp of life ; but it was a
 
 486 FITZALLAN. 
 
 moment — and the next — with what might it not be 
 fraught ? they might start as from a trance, roused 
 by the knell of their terrestrial happiness. 
 
 " Fitzallan," cried Adeline, suddenly collecting 
 herself, and throwing over her whole manner a be- 
 witching tenderness, *' the world with its cold and 
 chilling ceremonies, with its fictitious restraint u})on 
 the most heavenly feelings of our nature, and with 
 its hypocritical disguise of those emotions, which form 
 the bliss of life, may, in its'uncompromising severity, 
 condemn the girl, who dares to let the confession 
 escape her lips, that her heart is vivified with the 
 flame of love ; but, I — I hold the opinion of the 
 world as naught when I have my God as my ac- 
 quitting judge; now, Fitzallan, that mom.ent of my 
 life is arrived when I will confess my love ; that love, 
 which, like the sun, has burned, although a world' 
 has shaded it. This ring upon my finger, Fitzallan, 
 contains your hair ; by what stratagem I obtained it, 
 I v.'ill not now disclose. Start not at the avowal, 
 scorn not the tear which this confession brings into 
 my eye ; but, no, I will not speak it ; yet my lips 
 shall tell it ;" and on the lips of Fitzallan she stamped 
 her virgin kiss of love. 
 
 Fitzallan swam in a delirium of passion ; a heart 
 of marble would have been softened ; a rock would 
 have acquired life and feeling; the head of Adeline 
 rested on his shoulder ; her arm was around his 
 neck ; the image of Amelia Fortescue vanished from 
 his imagination ; he saw, he knew, he felt only Ade- 
 line Gordon ; he bent his liead, and the kiss of love 
 was returned.
 
 FITZALLAN. 487 
 
 " Then art thou mine," faintly whispered Adehne, 
 and a tear rolled down her cheek ; he kissed it off; 
 he felt as if there were a fire within it that burned 
 his lips ; never in any previous moment did Adeline 
 appear more beautiful to him, dissolving in his arms 
 in all the fulness of a life-blood passion. 
 
 " Oh heavens !" exclaimed Fitzallan, " spare me, 
 Adeline, I conjure you spare me;" the image of 
 Amelia Fortescue flitted before his heated fancy. 
 *' No, no, I cannot — dare not love you." 
 
 " Dare not !" cried Adeline, with all her natural 
 pride and dignity, " where is the individual who 
 shall dare to step in with his authority between us, and 
 with his pigmy power presume to control our affec- 
 tions ? lives there that being upon the earth, whose man- 
 date can separate two hearts bound by a chain forged 
 by the omnipotence of love? it may sound well in 
 .some fable told by some grandame in the nursery ; 
 but to souls like ours, it would be a tale as credible, 
 as if it were bruited, that this great universe had 
 swung from off its hinges, and was roaming un- 
 checked, free from its Maker's hold. But you can- 
 not love me? speak, dwells there then the image of 
 some other being in your heart? and am I then 
 doomed to know that deepest of all miseries, the ex- 
 istence of a rival ?" 
 
 " To deny that I do love another," said Fitzallan, 
 " were at variance both with truth and candour, but 
 a few days will, perhaps, see her the bride of another, 
 and my love then will be like a flame that burns in 
 sepulchres, a lonely, cheerless light.' 
 
 " Thenl" exclaimed Adehne, " oh I thou blessed
 
 488 FITZALLAN. 
 
 hope, Fitzallan may still be mine ; that hope shall be 
 the spirit of my midnight thoughts ; the first bright 
 vision of my morning dreams. My rival may sur- 
 pass me in beauty, in fortune, in accomplishments, 
 but there is one thing in which she is and ever will 
 be my inferior, she never can love as I do. I know 
 my heart, and you, Fitzallan, will one day learn to 
 know it; then tell me what course will you pursue 
 with a woman, who would follow your footsteps with 
 the most ardent love, with the most unextinguishable 
 affection, to the very centre of the earth j who, throw- 
 ing aside all the reserve and modesty of her sex, 
 would drag you from the embraces of a favoured rival, 
 and with her arms around your neck defy all power 
 to WTest you from her?" 
 
 " Once only," said Fitzallan, " does the flower of 
 love bloom in life in all its heavenly beauty, if that be 
 nipped untimely, the second flowering is, as if it were 
 forced in a hothouse, weak and worthless, and its 
 sole influence on the heart is to make us feel the loss 
 of the former more acutely. Is the remembrance of 
 a first love, Adeline, ever erased from the heart ?'* 
 
 " Never I" exclaimed Adeline ; *' and for that rea- 
 son, my love for you will live with me for ever." 
 
 At this moment, the mother of Adeline rushed into 
 the room, and with the expression of fear on her 
 countenance, informed Fitzallan, that a man of the 
 most surly manners had that moment inquired if he 
 were in the house, and on being answered in the 
 affirmative, demanded an immediate interview with 
 him. To every invitation to enter the house, he gave 
 the most positive denial; his business, he said,
 
 FITZALLAN. 4S0 
 
 would not occupy a minute, and in a peremptory 
 tone demanded that Mr. Fitzallan should be in- 
 stantly apprized that he was in waiting. 
 
 *' A stranger !" exclaimed Fitzallan, " and in- 
 quiring for me here? that is extraordinary; how- 
 came he to know that 1 was here? are you ac- 
 quainted, Madam, with his face or person?" 
 
 " Of the former," replied Mrs. Gordon, *' I could 
 not catch a glimpse, as he seemed anxious to conceal 
 it in the folds of his cloak ; the lalter I cannot recall 
 to my recollection ever having seen before." 
 
 The countenance of Adeline assumed an ashy pale- 
 ness ; she appeared like some detected accomplice in 
 a deed of guilt. Her perturbation, however, escaped 
 the notice of Fitzallan, and although a most painful 
 presentiment, for which he could not account, hung 
 upon his mind, he descended the stairs leading to the 
 hall, the door of which stood open, and where he ex 
 pected to meet the stranger. No one, however, pre- 
 sented himself to his notice; he stood on tiie step, 
 and as well as the obscurity of the night would allow 
 him, he directed his eyes to every quarter, but not the 
 slightest vestige of the stranger presented itself In 
 a few minutes he heard the sound of steps advancing, 
 it was the watchman of the night, whom he imme- 
 diately questioned, if he had seen a person lurking 
 about, answering the description of the stranger as 
 given by Mrs. Gordon. A decided negative was, how- 
 ever, given, and had Fitzallan been one of those 
 weak-minded creatures, who have been so far misled 
 by priests and old maids as to believe in apparitions^ 
 he would doubtless have conjectured, that IVIrs. 
 VOL. r. 2 k
 
 490 FITZ ALLAN. 
 
 Gordon had on that night been visited by one 
 oi those prowling gentry, to amuse her with onf^ 
 of their midnight pranks, before the crowing of 
 the cock (thanks be for ever to St. Peter) drives 
 them helter-skelter back to their very uncomfortable 
 domicile. 
 
 Perplexed and surprised, Fitzallan returned to the 
 drawing-room, but to his great wonder he found no 
 one there ; in a few moments, however, Mrs. Gordon 
 made her appearance, informing Fitzallan, that Ade- 
 line had been taken suddenly indisposed, and had 
 retired to bed. Fitzallan had been absent but a very 
 few minutes, he had left Adeline apparently in the en- 
 joyment of the fullest health ; and whether it was his 
 guardian angel who whispered it to him, or whether 
 the thought arose spontaneously in his own breast, it 
 is certain that a very strange suspicion darted across 
 his mind, that there was more in this sudden illness 
 of Adeline, than all his ingenuity could immediately 
 solve, and so strong did the impression work upon 
 him, that he very significantly, and in a manner 
 which could not be misunderstood, expressed his great 
 regret at the sudden indisposition of Miss Adeline, 
 and taking his hat, bade Mrs. Gordon a good night. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS-URBANA 
 823H876F C001 v.1 
 FItzallan / 
 
 3 0112 088985830