"The attention of Sir Henry to Lady Corbet, on the death of his father, was the richest balm to her heart, and she looked forward to that happiness of which she had so many years regretted the deprivation: but the flattering illusion soon fled! Her son, on a sudden, became thoughtful, reserved, and mysterious: his answers, when addressed, were incoherent, his dress disordered, and his whole appearance indicative of internal wretchedness. He avoided his mother and passed the greatest part of his time in the apartment where his father died, and where, at last, he totally secluded himself. Lady Corbet was grieved and alarmed at this change, which the domestics openly imputed to a mental derangement; and some papers they found, nearly induced Lady Corbet to concur in their opinion. They contained unconnected sentences, which showed a mind ill at ease, if not bereft of reason.
"The mild persuasions and entreaties of his mother, were ineffectual to draw from him the cause of his dejection, which still increased; and one night, about six months after the death of his father, he privately left the hall! This circumstance was soon discovered, and the domestics dispatched in pursuit of him; but the only intelligence they could gain of him was from a peasant, who affirmed, that passing by the church early in the morning, he had seen Sir Henry ascend from the vault where the remains of the Corbet family were interred: that he was without his hat, held his handkerchief to his face, and, on leaving the church, ran with wildness across the fields toward the village. This account was farther corroborated by the sexton, who attested that Sir Henry had called him up after midnight, and demanded the keys of the church, which he did not think himself authorised to refuse.
"This information but served to perplex and raise painful conjectures in the breast of Lady Corbet: Sir Henry was not to be traced, and it was not till some time after, she received a letter from Lady Dursley, informing her of his having been seen in London. To London she immediately came, where she had been nearly three weeks, when I met her at Sir John's.
"Lady Corbet recounted these events during breakfast; and we were endeavouring to give her consolation, in a case I believe we all thought equally hopeless as mysterious, when the clerk (for my friend is in the commission for the peace) entered the room, and informed Sir John, a party of dissolute young men, who, the night before, had committed several depredations, had been conveyed to the round-house, and were then waiting at the office. Two of them, he said, who were accused as the principal offenders, entreated to speak with Sir John previously to their examination. This, Sir John peremptorily refused; and asking me if I would accompany him, we proceeded to the office.
"When I beheld the extreme youth of the offenders, (for one was not more than sixteen, the others somewhat older), I knew not whether to pity or feel indignant at their depravity. I was, however, recalled from my reflections by Sir John, earnestly inquiring the names of those who were reported as the ringleaders? The youth who had principally engaged my attention, unwillingly pronounced—'Henry Corbet.'
"'Yes,' said Sir John with severity; 'if I mistake not, it is Sir Henry Corbet!—For the respect I bear your family, young gentleman, I am sorry to see you here!'
"Sir Henry, for him it really was, shrunk abashed from the penetrating eyes of Sir John, who now proceeded to inquire into the nature of the offence.
"The constables reported, that they had the preceding night been alarmed by the cry of murder, accompanied by their nightly signal for assistance; that on hastening to the spot whence the alarm had been given, they had discovered one of their fraternity on the ground; Sir Henry had then hold of his throat—another who had a bludgeon in his hand, with which it appeared the watchman had been assaulted, had likewise hold of one arm. Several others, on the approach of the watch, fled; and those who remained, after an obstinate resistance, had been secured.
"Sir Henry denied the charge. He declared that, so far from assaulting, he and his companions had, on the cry of murder, gone to the rescue of the watchman; that his friend, St. Ledger, had wrested the bludgeon from one of the assailants, and at the moment the other watch came up, was assisting him to raise the man from the ground, for which purpose he, Sir Henry, had passed his hand behind his neck; that, without making the least inquiry, they had attacked his companions, who acted only on the defensive.
"With these particulars, he said, he wished to have privately acquainted Sir John, without exposing himself or friends to the ignorant and undeserved accusation of the watchmen.