And when, at length, the two detached ships were seen returning from their victorious expedition, and approaching the fleet with their little squadron of prizes in tow, the hearty and general cheering with which they were received was such as baffles all description; still less would it be possible to convey any adequate idea of the enthusiasm with which that cheering was doubled and redoubled, when Captain Montgomery, who, from the accounts brought to the fleet by the cutter, was believed to have fallen, was discerned standing on his quarter deck, waving his hat, and bowing, in return for the congratulations of all.
On joining the fleet, our hero learnt, for the first time, the report which had prevailed of his death, and that it had been carried to England. In consequence, he dispatched the letter to Mrs. Montgomery, which we have seen Julia and Frances, as soon as they perceived Edmund’s writing on the cover, so unceremoniously tearing open.
The paper, as might be expected, expatiated at great length on the gratified feelings with which they found themselves enabled to contradict the report of Captain Montgomery’s death. The subject, in short, engrossed every column of every public print of the day. There was scarcely room for an advertisement! Wherever you cast your eye, Captain Montgomery, in large letters, appeared before you. Every figure of newspaper rhetoric was set forth: the pathetic, the heroic, the sublime, but above all, the triumphant.
CHAPTER VI.
“… It is the noble brow
Of Fingall; the kindly look of his eyes.
It is not now a shadow which deludes
My sight.—These are his hands.—I feel their warm