The Euphrasia having received some injury, (being lying-to when the privateer ran on board of her,) a homeward course became desirable. As soon, therefore, as wind and weather would permit, Fitz-Ullin took Henry’s body on board, and proceeded to Plymouth. From thence he instantly wrote to Mr. Jackson with the melancholy intelligence, that he might break it to the family with proper caution.
The prize, which was very valuable, was also brought safe into port, the burning mast having been extinguished in time to prevent the spreading of the fire.
Having sent the murderers to Exeter gaol to be tried for their lives at the assizes, which were to commence in a day or two, and made whatever arrangements the duties of the service required, Fitz-Ullin set out for Lodore, whither, according to instructions received from Mr. Jackson, he gave orders to have the body of Henry conveyed. So contradictory and unsearchable are often the movements of the human heart, that, melancholy as were these duties, it is certain that our hero performed them with an activity and energy of spirit, to which he had long been a stranger. Whether it was, that tired of his self-imposed banishment, he was glad of even this mournful excuse, to renew the affectionate intercourse of early life with a family so long and so justly regarded, by offering his services on the present occasion, and giving his necessary assistance in prosecuting the murderers to conviction; or, whether any other, and more mysterious springs of thought and feeling were set in motion, it would be difficult to determine.
However this was, in a few days after his landing, he was to be seen, with a countenance of seriousness, certainly, but not of despair, leaning back in a travelling carriage which rolled along the north road as fast as the united strength of four good horses could give the impetus of motion to its wheels.
He arrived at Keswick, drove through it, and shortly after a turning in the road presented Lodore House to his view.
CHAPTER XL.
“Lovely pass’d the light of joy o’er thy face,