CHAPTER FIFTY.
_Cym_. Guiderius had Upon his neck a mole, a sanguine star. _Bel_. This is he, Who hath upon him still that stamp. SHAKESPEARE.
When Mr Rainscourt left Cheltenham, he wrote a hasty note to theMcElvinas, requesting that they would take charge of Emily, whosepresence would be necessary at the Hall--and, when they had arrangedtheir own affairs, would bring her with them over to Ireland, where itwas his intention to reside for some time. A few days after Rainscourthad quitted Cheltenham, Emily, who, since her mother's death, hadremained with the McElvinas, was accompanied by them to that home which,for the first time, she returned to with regret.
It may be inquired by the reader, whether Rainscourt was not harassed byhis conscience. I never heard that he showed any outward signs.Conscience has been described as a most importunate monitor, paying norespect to persons, and making cowards of us all. Now, as far as I havebeen able to judge from external evidence, there is not a greatercourtier than conscience. It is true, that, when in adversity, heupbraids us, and holds up the catalogue of our crimes so close to ournoses, that we cannot help reading every line. It is true, that, whensuffering with disease, and terrified with the idea of going we know notwhere, he assails the enfeebled mind and body, and scares away thelittle resolution we have left. But in the heydey of youth, in thevigour of health, with the means of administering to our follies, andadding daily and hourly to our crimes, "he never mentions hell to earspolite." In fact, he never attacks a man who has more than ten thousanda year. Like a London tradesman, he never presents his bill as long asyou give him fresh orders that will increase it; but once prove yourselfto be "cleaned out," by no longer swelling the amount, and he pouncesupon you, and demands a post-obit bond upon the next world, which, likeall others, will probably be found very disagreeable and inconvenient toliquidate. Conscience, therefore, is not an honest, sturdy adviser, buta sneaking scoundrel, who allows you to run into his debt, never caringto tell you, as a caution, but rather concealing your bill from you, aslong as there is a chance of your increasing its length--satisfied that,eventually, he must be paid in some shape or other.
The McElvinas, who could not leave Emily by herself, took up their abodeat the Hall, until the necessary arrangements had been completed, andthen removed with her to the cottage, that they might attend to theirown affairs. Emily was deeply affected at the loss of her mother. Shehad always been a kind and indulgent friend, who had treated her more asan equal than as one subject to authority and control. The McElvinaswere anxious to remove Emily from the Hall, where every object thatpresented itself formed a link of association with her loss, and,trifles in themselves, would occasion a fresh burst of grief from theaffectionate and sorrowful girl. And she may be pardoned when I state,that, perhaps, the bitterest tears which were shed were those when shethrew herself on that sofa where she had remained after the abruptdeparture of William Seymour.
The vicar hastened to offer his condolence; and finding that Emily wasas resigned as could be expected, after a long visit walked out withMcElvina, that he might have a more detailed account of the unfortunateevent. McElvina related it circumstantially, but without communicatingthe suspicions which the story of the grooms had occasioned, for he wasaware that the vicar was too charitable to allow anything but positiveevidence to be of weight in an accusation so degrading to human nature.
"It is strange," observed the vicar, very gravely, "but it seems as if afatality attended the possessors of this splendid estate. The death ofAdmiral de Courcy was under most painful circumstances, without friendor relation to close his eyes; it was followed by that of his immediateheir, who was drowned as soon almost as the property devolved to him--and I, who was appointed to be his guardian, never beheld my charge.Now we have another violent death of the possessor--and all within thespace of twelve or thirteen years. You have probably heard something ofthe singular history of the former heir to the estate?"
"I heard you state that he was drowned at sea; but nothing further."
"Or, rather, supposed to be, for we never had proof positive. He wassent away in a prize, which never was heard of; and, although there isno confirmation of the fact, I have no doubt but he was lost. I do notknow when I was so much distressed as at the death of that child. Therewas a peculiarity of incident in his history, the facts of which I havenot as yet communicated to any one, as there are certain points whicheven distant branches of the family may wish to keep concealed--yet,upon a promise of secrecy, Mr McElvina, I will impart them to you."
The promise being given, the vicar commenced with the history of Admiralde Courcy,--his treatment of his wife and children,--the unfortunatemarriage, and more unfortunate demise of Edward Peters, or rather ofEdward de Courcy--the acknowledgment of his grandson by Admiral deCourcy on his death-bed--the account of Adams--his death--the boy beingsent away in a prize, and drowned at sea. "I have all the particularsin writing," continued the good man, "and the necessary documents; andhis identity was easy to be proved by the mark of the broad-arrowimprinted on his shoulder by old Adams."
"Heavens! is it possible?" exclaimed McElvina, grasping the arm of thevicar.
"What do you mean?"
"Mean!--I mean that the boy is alive--has been in your company withinthe last two years."
"That boy?"
"Yes, that boy--that boy is William Seymour."
"Merciful God! how inscrutable are thy ways!" exclaimed the vicar withastonishment and reverence. "Explain to me, my dear sir,--how can youestablish your assertion?"
If the reader will refer back to the circumstance of the vicar callingupon Captain M---, he will observe that, upon being made acquainted withthe loss of the child, he was so much shocked that he withdrew withoutimparting the particulars to one who was a perfect stranger; and, on theother hand, Captain M---, when Seymour again made his appearance, afteran interval of three years, not having been put in possession of thesefacts, or even knowing the vicar's address or name, had no means ofcommunicating the intelligence of the boy's recovery.
"I must now, sir," said McElvina to the vicar, "return the confidencewhich you have placed in me, under the same promise of secrecy, bymaking you acquainted with some particulars of my former life, at whichI acknowledge I have reason to blush, and which nothing but theinterests of William Seymour would have induced me to disclose."
McElvina then acknowledged his having formerly been engaged insmuggling--his picking up the boy from the wreck--his care of him forthree years--the capture of his vessel by Captain M---, and thecircumstances that had induced Captain M--- to take the boy under hisprotection. The mark was as legible as ever, and there could be nodoubt of his identity being satisfactorily established.
The vicar listened to the narration with the interest which it deserved,and acknowledged his conviction of the clearness of the evidence, byobserving--
"This will be a heavy blow to our dear Emily."
"Not a very heavy one, I imagine," replied McElvina, who immediatelyrelieved the mind of the worthy man by communicating the attachmentbetween them, and the honourable behaviour of Seymour.
"How very strange this is!" replied the vicar. "It really would be agood subject for a novel. I only trust that, like all inventions of thekind, it may end as happily."
"I trust so too; but let us now consider what must be done."
"I should advise his being sent for immediately."
"And so should I: but I expect, from the last accounts which I receivedfrom him, that the ship will have left her station to return home beforeour letters can arrive there. My plan is, to keep quiet until hisreturn. The facts are known, and can be established by us alone. Letus immediately take such precautions as our legal advisers my thinkrequisite, that proofs may not be wanting in case of our sudden demise;but we must not act until he arrives in the country, for Mr Rainscourtis a difficult and dangerous person to deal with."
"You are right," replied the vicar; "when do you leave this [house] forIrela
nd?"
"In a few days--but I shall be ready to appear the moment that I hear ofthe ship's arrival. In the meantime, I shall make the necessaryaffidavits, in case of accident."
McElvina and the vicar separated. McElvina, like a dutiful husband,communicated the joyful intelligence to his wife, and his wife, tosoothe Emily under her affliction, although she kept the secret, nowtalked of Seymour. In a few days the arrangements were made--thecottage was put into an agent's hands to be disposed of; and, quittingwith regret an abode in which they had passed some years of unalloyedhappiness, they set off for Galway, where they found Rainscourt on theirarrival. Consigning his daughter to his care, they removed to their ownhouse, which was on the property which McElvina had purchased, and aboutfour miles distant from the castle. McElvina's name was a passport tothe hearts of his tenants, who declared that the head of the house hadcome unto his own again. That he had the true eye of the McElvinas,there was no mistaking, for no other family had such an eye. That hishonour had gladdened their hearts by seeing the property into the ouldfamily again--as ould a one as any in ould Ireland.
McElvina, like a wise man, held his tongue; and then they talked oftheir misfortunes--of the bad potato crop--of arrears of rent--onedemand was heaped upon another, until McElvina was ultimately obliged torefer them all to the agent, whom he requested to be as lenient aspossible.
Emily was now reinstated in the castle where she had passed the firstyears of her existence, and found that all in it was new, except her oldnurse, Norah. The contiguity of the McElvinas was a source of comfortto her, for she could not admire the dissipated companions of herfather. Her life was solitary--but she had numerous resources withinherself, and the winter passed rapidly away.
In the spring, she returned to London with her father, who proudlyintroduced his daughter. Many were the solicitations of those whoadmired her person, or her purse. But in vain: her heart waspre-engaged; and it was with pleasure that she returned to Ireland,after the season was over, to renew her intimacy with the McElvinas, andto cherish, in her solitude, the remembrance of the handsome andhigh-minded William Seymour.
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