Honestus insisted on not going with them: he begged earnestly that they would leave him there to bemoan the loss of his daughters, and die in obscurity. However, all his entreaties were to no purpose; they forced him on horseback, and carried him first to a neighbouring village, where they shaved him, and dressed him in new apparel.
Honestus was forced to stay some days at Mr Simpson’s, but he refused almost every kind of sustenance, and his friend fearing he would starve himself to death, he permitted him to take his leave, and set out for his hut.
On his return thither, he determined to pay a visit to his former habitation, shed a tear over its ruins, and for a moment indulge himself in bewailing on that spot the loss of his dear children. But the ruins were no where to be found, the ground was covered with a new building, the lands were in the highest state of cultivation, and crowded with sheep and oxen.
He entered the farm-yard, and had there stood some time gazing in wonder and astonishment, when two young women rushed out of the house, each seizing on one of his arms.
They had no sooner hold of Honestus, than one of them cried out “Yes, yes, it is my dear father!” He looked at them with bewildered eyes, and then fainted in their arms. It was a long time after he came to himself before he could utter a word.
At last he stammered out, “Yes, it is my children, whom heaven has been graciously pleased to preserve to close my eyes in death!”
He continued some days in almost a senseless state; but, by the care and attention of his daughters, he at last recovered, and consented to spend the remainder of his days with them. His daughters told him, that some of their friends had followed the plunderers, rescued them and part of their property, and that the neighbouring gentlemen had rebuilt their house and stocked their lands.
THE END.
