CHAP. VII.
The sky it seems would pour down stinking pitch,
But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek,
Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffer'd
With those that I saw suffer! A brave vessel,
Who had, no doubt, some noble creatures in her,
Dash'd all to pieces. Oh! the cry did knock
Against my very heart!—Poor souls, they perish'd!
Shakespeare's Tempest.
St. Aubyn had related to Ross the conclusion of those circumstances which he had confided to him before his marriage with Ellen, and though that venerable man rejoiced that Edmund's vindictive intentions had been so happily conquered, neither he nor the Earl felt entirely satisfied on the subject.
Lord De Montfort was certainly an excentric character, and it was possible his impetuous feelings might yet take another direction, especially if the bigotted Catholics, by whom he generally was surrounded, should obtain any intimation of those apparent facts which militated so much against the character of St. Aubyn, and which only his own word opposed; and that they might do so, was by no means improbable, when his occasional night-wanderings were remembered, in which, as he had done to Ellen, he might hereafter to some other reveal what would induce them to insist on an explanation.
Ellen, it was true, had so touched him with admiration and tenderness, that he could not resist her influence, but now removed from any chance of seeing her again, there was no saying what new turn his ardent imagination would take.
All these ideas, which St. Aubyn had carefully concealed from his wife, he communicated to his venerable friend, who could not deny their rationality. The wishes of both centered in one point, and that was the discovery of De Sylva; and nothing could be more improbable than that he should now be found after years had elapsed, in which the agents of St. Aubyn, and of the Marquis of Northington, had sought him in vain, though their search had been extended through every great city in Spain, Portugal, France, Italy, and England: it was, in fact, most likely, either that he was dead, or had so completely changed his appearance and name as to be living obscurely, perhaps on one of the very spots where they had vainly endeavoured to find him.
These wishes and reflections they never discussed except when without other witnesses, being mutually unwilling to impart any of their anxieties to Lady St. Aubyn, who, happy in her benevolent plans, in the society of her father and early friends, in the improving beauty and health of her lovely boy, and the undeviating and increasing love of St. Aubyn, seemed not to have a care remaining.
From Charles Ross, about this time, his father received letters, expressive of the happiness he felt in his present situation, and of gratitude to Lord St. Aubyn, who had procured it for him, adding, he hoped to remain on his present station for some months, as they were constantly taking prizes, and his share already amounting to a considerable sum of money.