"The history of Father Hilaire," said the Captain, "is not without its moral; from the misfortunes of others, we are induced to draw a comparative consolation under our own; and his may truly teach the impatient sufferer an useful lesson."
"Yet I wish, Sir Henry," said Frederick, "you had informed him who you were; for, from the idea I have conceived of the man, I think he would have been highly gratified in repaying the obligation he owed your father."
"He had more than cancelled the obligation, Frederick," answered Sir Henry, "by preserving my life; and, had I acknowledged who I was, it might have led to questions I should have found it difficult and distressing to have answered."
The conversation here became general, and soon after they separated for the night.
The relation of Sir Henry added greatly to Louise's solicitude to be informed respecting her parents, but her inquiries and intreaties were equally ineffectual; Sir Henry persevered in his mysterious silence on the subject, though the anxiety she showed evidently added to his unhappiness; and, on their nearer approach to England, they with grief perceived in him every symptom of a rapid decline. The Captain in vain urged medical assistance; and, as he watched the daily ravages of sorrow, painfully anticipated the moment when death would bereave him of the friend by whose means he had hoped to recover his Ellenor. Frederick, independently of his concern on his uncle's account, regarded Sir Henry with more than fraternal friendship; but his eloquence was equally unavailing to discover the source from whence his unhappiness arose.
At last, the loud shouts of the sailors proclaimed the appearance of their native land, and in a few days they reached the Thames: thence Harland, impatient to introduce his Louise to his parents, proceeded to Harland-Hall; whilst the Captain, accompanied by Sir Henry and Frederick, pursued his way toward London, intending, as soon as he had transacted his business there, to renew his search after Ellenor; but in this he was prevented, by the arrival of one of Mrs. Howard's servants, who, the morning preceding the commencement of his intended search, hastily entered the room where he was at breakfast, and, presenting a letter, informed him his lady was at the point of death.
Alarmed at this intelligence, he eagerly opened the letter, which was from the steward, and confirmed the bearer's account, with entreaties that he would immediately repair to Bristol, where Mrs. Howard had for some time resided.—Humanity demanded compliance: the Captain accordingly set out with the messenger, and reached Bristol a few hours previously to Mrs. Howard's dissolution; but the malignancy which had ever marked her character displayed itself in her latest moments. She received the Captain with that acrimonious contempt which, for years, had accompanied each sentiment or look addressed to him. The loss of life she regretted, as depriving her of the power of longer tormenting him; and, with a smile of triumph that defied the power of death to efface, told him, she had left him her fortune, but on restriction that he never married again, as a punishment for his treatment of her.
The Captain could not affect a concern at her death which he did not experience; for years she had proved literally a torment; and he could not but feel that he was free: free to claim the promise of his Ellenor, and, in an union with her, meet a recompence for the years of unhappiness he had endured from Deborah, whose fortune, if requisite, he would not have hesitated a moment in resigning; but that lady's wishes had, in this respect, exceeded her power, for her fortune was fully secured to him at the time of their marriage.
The Captain wrote immediately for his nephew and Sir Henry, who arrived the day after the funeral; and, having settled his affairs with the steward, with every cheerful sentiment, hope could inspire, commenced his projected search for Ellenor and his son.—Neither was Frederick uninterested in the discovery of them; as the idea of the youthful Ellen was still impressed on his mind; and he secretly wished fortune had blessed him with independency, that he might have offered her his hand and heart. Sir Henry likewise seemed to forget his own sorrow, in the prospect of the Captain's happiness, and, by a number of little anecdotes concerning the objects of their search, endeavoured to beguile the time, and lessen the solicitude they could not altogether avoid experiencing.
They crossed the Channel to Cardiff, and directed their course to the humble dwelling of Jarvis, who, they thought, might, perhaps, by that time have learned the route of the fugitives.