“Or, rather, supposed to be, for we never had proof positive. He was sent away in a prize, which never was heard of; and, although there is no confirmation of the fact, I have no doubt but he was lost. I do not know when I was so much distressed as at the death of that child. There was a peculiarity of incident in his history, the facts of which I have not as yet communicated to any one, as there are certain points which even distant branches of the family may wish to keep concealed—yet, upon a promise of secrecy, Mr McElvina, I will impart them to you.”
The promise being given, the vicar commenced with the history of Admiral de Courcy,—his treatment of his wife and children,—the unfortunate marriage, and more unfortunate demise of Edward Peters, or rather of Edward de Courcy—the acknowledgment of his grandson by Admiral de Courcy on his death-bed—the account of Adams—his death—the boy being sent away in a prize, and drowned at sea. “I have all the particulars in writing,” continued the good man, “and the necessary documents; and his identity was easy to be proved by the mark of the broad-arrow imprinted on his shoulder by old Adams.”
“Heavens! is it possible?” exclaimed McElvina, grasping the arm of the vicar.
“What do you mean?”
“Mean!—I mean that the boy is alive—has been in your company within the last two years.”
“That boy?”
“Yes, that boy—that boy is William Seymour.”
“Merciful God! how inscrutable are thy ways!” exclaimed the vicar with astonishment and reverence. “Explain to me, my dear sir,—how can you establish your assertion?”
If the reader will refer back to the circumstance of the vicar calling upon Captain M—, he will observe that, upon being made acquainted with the loss of the child, he was so much shocked that he withdrew without imparting the particulars to one who was a perfect stranger; and, on the other hand, Captain M—, when Seymour again made his appearance, after an interval of three years, not having been put in possession of these facts, or even knowing the vicar’s address or name, had no means of communicating the intelligence of the boy’s recovery.
“I must now, sir,” said McElvina to the vicar, “return the confidence which you have placed in me, under the same promise of secrecy, by making you acquainted with some particulars of my former life, at which I acknowledge I have reason to blush, and which nothing but the interests of William Seymour would have induced me to disclose.”