Here a short digression is necessary.
Chapter XXII
Such was my brother too,
So went he suited to his watery tomb:
If spirits can assume both form and suit,
You come to fright us.
Twelfth Night.
Soon after the frigate which had taken me off from New Providence had parted company with the American prize that I was sent on board of, the crew of the former, it appeared, had been boasting among the American prisoners of the prize-money they should receive.
"Not you," said the Yankees; "you will never see your prize any more, nor any one that went in her."
These words were repeated to the captain of the frigate, when he questioned the mate and the crew, and the whole nefarious transaction came out. They said the ship was sinking when they left her, and that was the reason they had hurried into the boat. The mate said it was impossible to get at the leaks, which were in the fore peak, and under the cabin deck in the run; that he wondered Captain Green had not made it known, but he supposed he must have been drunk: "the ship," continued the mate, "must have gone down in twelve hours after we left her."
This was reported to the Admiralty by my captain, and my poor father was formally acquainted with the fatal story. Five months had elapsed since I was last heard of, and all hopes of my safety had vanished: this was the reason that when I knocked at the door, I found the servant in mourning: he was one who had been hired since my departure, and did not know me. Of course he expressed no surprise at seeing me.
"Good Heavens!" said I, "who is dead?" "My master's only son, Sir," said the man, "Mr Frank, drowned at sea."
"Oh! is that all?" said I, "I am glad it's no worse." The man concluded that I was an unfeeling brute, and stared stupidly at me as I brushed by him and ran up stairs to the drawing-room. I ought to have been more guarded; but, as usual, I followed the impulse of my feelings. I opened the door, when I saw my sister sitting at a table in deep mourning, with another young lady whose back was turned towards me. My sister screamed as soon as she saw me. The other lady turned round, and I beheld my Emily, my dear, dear Emily: she too was in deep mourning. My sister, after screaming, fell on the floor in a swoon. Emily instantly followed her example, and there they both lay, like two petrified queens in Westminster Abbey. It was a beautiful sight, "pretty, though a plague."