My interest in that name would not suffer me to depart. I grew restless and uneasy, I shifted my chair, stirred the fire; and in so doing doubtless roused the sleeper, for he started up and vociferated a great oath. 'Not see it,' added he, 'why I saw it myself, with my own eyes, the Lord defend us!—no wonder! no wonder! I wouldn't sleep in old Valmont's skin to have twenty fine castles. To cheat his own brother's daughter out of such a fine fortune! 'Tis enough to make the ghosts of all her grandfather's walk out of their graves. Forty thousand is the least penny.—Well, well,' said he rising, 'I shall see the day yet when a certain Lord that I know will have her and her fifty thousand pounds too. Come, landlord, here's a safe deliverance to Miss Valmont and her money out of the claws of her old griping uncle.'
Having swallowed his bumper, he staggered out of the room, and the landlord was instantly summoned to assist him to bed. From one of the remaining guests, I learned that this man had lately come from London; but his name was unknown to them. Finding my intelligence at an end, I stepped into my chaise and proceeded towards Barlowe Hall.
During my journey, I often, almost indeed perpetually, thought of the conversation I had heard in the inn. And when I had arrived at Barlowe Hall, and sat in the same apartment where I first heard you speak of Sibella, I also recollected that colonel Ridson, who had been in habits of intimacy with her father, expressed both doubt and surprise when you said Miss Valmont was dependent on her uncle. This recollection added new force to the assertions of the young man in the village. I became persuaded that some injury was intended to Miss Valmont; and resolved if possible to develop the mystery. I journeyed back again to the village, where my suspicions had first been excited. The young man had departed the day before; and no one could tell me of his route.
I now determined to put it in Sibella's own power to demand an explanation of her uncle. Again, but without my hermit's disguise, I crossed the moat and ascended the rock. When I approached her in the wood, she looked on me sorrowfully; but, Miss Ashburn, there was no welcome in her eye. I had neither power nor inclination to hold her long in conversation. I briefly related to her my suspicions: and as I told you before, she bade me wait her return in the cell.
She returned no more. Have I then seen her for the last time?—I sicken. Never, never, never, to behold her!—Oh for a potion, powerful in its nature, rapid in its effect, that would overwhelm these dregs of existence, giving me but time to know the relief of dying when life has become hateful!
In continuation
The carriage, in which I instantly return to Barlowe Hall, stands waiting before my window. I do not fly through fear; but if Mr. Valmont knows my secret visits, and punishes her for my faults, he may release her when I am gone.
Write to me, I beseech you, Miss Ashburn, and say why Sibella suffers. She is a prisoner, madam. She has quarrelled with her uncle.
It is said he struck her.—Heaven forbid! It is said she attempted suicide!—But she will tell you all; and for pity's sake relieve my suspence, though you cannot quell my anxiety! Respectfully your's