"Romance! Sir Henry," exclaimed Mr. Talton. "Your conduct has been mysterious, but you need not be a wanderer. Return to your mother—."
"Mr. Talton," interrupted Sir Henry solemnly, "urge me not! I am neither so ignorant nor weak, as to be influenced by a childish romance. I again repeat—there is a cause! If the sacrifice of my life could secure my mother's happiness, freely would I resign it: but I must not—dare not see her! My wish is to remain with Captain Howard."
"At present, Sir Henry," said the Captain, "I think it more eligible for you to be under the immediate care of the guardian appointed by your father."
"Be you my guardian," said Sir Henry, again eagerly clasping his hand. "My heart acknowledged you as such, the first moment I beheld you; when, not knowing you were the Captain Howard whom I sought, I told you my name was St. Ledger. Can you forgive the falsehood? When informed who you were, a false shame withheld me from retracting the assertion, especially as you had given that protection, as Sir Henry Corbet I should have entreated! Under that protection let me still remain! It is a child of sorrow, Captain Howard," he continued, sinking on his knee, "begs—conjures you not to desert—not to drive him again an outcast on the world!"
The Captain was affected—but an expressive look from Mr. Talton, repelled each sentiment of commiseration, and in an instant decided the cause of the supplicating Sir Henry. Addressing him with a coldness ill according with the generosity of his disposition—
"I am almost induced, Sir Henry, for your sake, to wish this discovery had not happened: as some particulars recited respecting you, by Mr. Talton, must prevent my proving the friend you wish, I certainly cannot oblige you to return to your mother—but here you cannot be till you have previously obtained her approbation."
"Recited respecting me, by Mr. Talton!" repeated Sir Henry, rising indignantly. "It is well, Captain Howard!" He was leaving the cabin, but, turning at the door, regarded the Captain with a look expressive of anguish and disappointment: the tear trembled in his eye—he faltered—"When the child of Ellenor Worton needed protection, my father did not refuse it! Edward—Ellenor!"
He laid his hand on his breast,—burst into tears—and rushed in an instant from their sight.
Surprise, approaching to agony, for a moment bereft the Captain of utterance; but, recovering, he exclaimed—
"He named my Ellenor and her child! Fly, Frederick, and bring him back. Oh God! Could he give me information of them—!"