We have landed safely at Southampton, my own Edith. God has preserved us from many dangers, doubtless owing to thy many prayers at St. Wilfred's altar. Thou hast, I hope, received safely the letters I sent from Joppa last autumn, and knowest whom I am bringing home with me. How wonderful it all is, and with what strange feelings the exile must approach the home of his boyhood! But he is very composed and quiet in his manner, and we grow in mutual esteem daily. He declares that he will accept no part of his ancient inheritance, but that he finds his highest joy in thinking that, in his sister's children, the descendants of the ancient line yet possess the land of their forefathers.
"What can he mean? Whom is he bringing with him? Send for Tristam. Ah! I see there is the old prior at the gate--he is talking with him;" and Hugh hurried down to fetch them up.
They entered the room: our old friend, Father Kenelm, as hale an old man as one could well find at seventy-five years of age--Wilfred's protector and friend, in the most critical moments of his life--and Tristam--do our readers remember him?
"God bless you, my children, in joy as in sorrow," was his salutation.
"How far are they off?"
"When will they be here?" and Tristam, who stood humbly at the door, found himself the object of universal attraction, and did not know which to answer first.
"Welcome, Tristam, welcome," said his lady; "thou art the morning star, the harbinger of my sun. How far hence are they?"
"They will be here by sunset, my lady."
"I will go and meet them," cried Hugh, and ran down stairs to get his horse ready.
"But whom is he bringing with him?"