Minnie blushed, and I kissed her hand.
As soon as my wound was dressed, I requested writing materials, and wrote to the Admiralty, giving an account of what had occurred since I quitted Heligoland. (I had written to inform them of the loss of the frigate when I was on the island). I stated in my despatches that my wound would probably confine me for some weeks; but as soon as I was able to be moved, I should return to England to await their orders. I also wrote to my mother and Mr Warden. I informed the latter of what had passed, and the delay which would be occasioned by my wound, and requested him to write to me more fully as to the death of Lord de Versely, and any other particulars which might interest me.
Having sealed these despatches, and entrusted them to the care of Mr Vanderwelt, my mind was relieved, and I had nothing to do but to think of and talk to Minnie. That my progress in her affections was rapid, was not to be wondered at, her attachment to me having commenced so early; and as her father was evidently pleased at our increasing intimacy, in a fortnight after my arrival at Hamburg, Minnie had consented to be mine, and her father had joined our hands, and given us his blessing.
As I now had no secrets from them, I detailed my whole history, the cause of Lord de Versely’s patronage, and the mystery of my birth. I opened the seal-skin pouch to show them Lord de Versely’s letter to my mother, and stated what had been the object of my ambition through life, and how great was my disappointment at my hopes being overthrown by the death of his lordship.
“My dear Percival,” said old Mr Vanderwelt, after I had concluded my narrative, “you have been pursuing a shadow, although the pursuit has called forth all your energies, and led to your advancement. You have the substance. You have wealth more than sufficient, for you know how rich I am. You have reputation, which is better than wealth, and you have now, I trust, a fair prospect of domestic happiness; for Minnie will be as good a wife as she has been a daughter. What, then, do you desire? A name. And what is that? Nothing. If you do not like your present name, from its association with your putative father of low origin, change it to mine. You will receive the fortune of an heiress, which will fully warrant your so doing. At all events, let not your pride stand in the way of your happiness. We cannot expect everything in this world. You have much to be thankful to Heaven for, and you must not repine because you cannot obtain all.”
“I have so ardently desired it all my life; it has been the sole object of my ambition,” replied I, “and I cannot but severely feel the disappointment.”
“Granted; but you must bear the disappointment, or rather you must forget it; regret for what cannot be obtained is not only unavailing, but, I may say, it is sinful. You have much to thank God for.”
“I have indeed, sir,” replied I, as I kissed his daughter; “and I will not repine. I will take your name when you give me Minnie, and I will think no more about that of Delmar.”
After this conversation, the subject was not renewed. I felt too happy with Minnie’s love to care much about anything else; my ambition melted away before it, and I looked forward to the time when I might embrace her as my own.
My wound healed rapidly; I had been a month at Hamburg, and was able to limp about a little, when one day Cross came in with a packet of letters from England.