"Thinking, however, that I might possibly be of some service, I walked slowly forwards; but guess my terror, when, just as we arrived at the carriage, they were dragging from it a man to all appearance dead.

"I instantly flew to lend my assistance; but no sooner did I distinguish his person, than I was nearly as lifeless as himself.—It was my father,—my father dying on the road! The sight, however terrifying to my fears and torturing to my feelings, gave me strength, and inspired me with fortitude to help in preserving the life of the author of my being.

"I took an opportunity to inform my dear Edwin who it was that claimed our care and attention. After chafing his temples, and rubbing his emaciated hands, some faint signs of life reanimated our endeavours.

"We found, by the conversation of the servants, that their master had been recommended to try what change of air and travelling might do, as medicine had failed in removing a disease which had long preyed upon his constitution, and which had been increased by some domestic sorrow.

"Alas! of that sorrow I knew myself to be the cause, and the tears, which I shed upon his almost lifeless hand, as I saw him extended at my feet, atoned I hope, in some measure, for the grief I had inflicted.

"When life was more perfectly restored, we moved him upon a grass plat, till the carriage and horses could be got ready.—He took no notice of any one, and appeared to be totally insensible of the accident, and of every thing around him.—This at once determined us to intrude on the Baron's goodness, and convey him to this castle.

"Having dispatched a messenger for the best advice we could procure, one of his attendants and myself accompanied him in the carriage. His head rested on my bosom, but he knew me not, nor once attempted to speak. On our arrival here, we found every thing prepared for our reception, Edwin having taken one of the horses, and rode full speed to inform the Baron's servants a sick gentleman was coming, for whom he requested their care and assistance.

"My father was taken from the carriage, and instantly put to bed. Two medical gentlemen very soon arrived, who, on examining the state of their patient, from the violence of the contusion and the total deprivation of sense in which they found him, seemed to think there was a concussion of the brain. They assured us, however, that his life would not be endangered by the accident, but said, they saw he was far advanced in decline, from which they apprehended more fatal consequences.

"We continued our disguise, and, as our real names were totally unknown in this neighborhood, having passed for a Mr. and Mrs. Danbury, we were under no apprehensions of being discovered, should my father recover his senses. After remaining in the most painful state of suspense many days, he began to take notice of those who attended him, but made no inquiries after his own servants, how he came into a strange place, or the accident which had befallen him. One day, as I was sitting by him, and holding his head, which I had been rubbing with vinegar, he looked earnestly at me.

"If I did not think, if I did not know it was impossible, (said he, in hurried accents, looking first at me, and then at Edwin, who was standing at the foot of the bed,) I should almost be tempted to believe that the hand which has so gently given me relief was the hand of Madeline de Glanville, and that face the face I once fondly doated upon; but it cannot be!—I am a poor, wandering, old man, whose eyes must be closed by strangers, and I deserve it should be so. I once had a daughter, but I banished her my sight:—I had a son, but he perhaps is no longer an inhabitant of this world."