"Freely, Talton," said the Captain, "would I defer my journey a week, if it depended on myself; but, as I must think Sir Henry's life really in danger, notwithstanding the Physician's affirmation; let that plead my excuse.—Neither, I think, could you experience pleasure in our society; as Sir Henry's dislike—or, term it what you will—must place a restraint on every moment. I do not expect to leave England for some time; and if I recover my Ellenor, most probably shall quit the seafaring life; therefore, depend on it, I will shortly pay you a visit, when you shall find me neither a niggard of my time, nor forgetful of the sentiments I once avowed."
With this assurance Mr. Talton was obliged to retire for the night; but in the morning renewed his solicitations: in which not being able to prevail, he declared he would postpone his journey to London, and return with the Captain to the interior of Wales.
Sir Henry turned pale at this declaration, which Mr. Talton observing, said—"I perceive with sorrow, Sir Henry, the early prepossession you entertained against me is not eradicated; perhaps from mistaking the cause of your conduct, I have acted toward you with a severity foreign to my nature, but which I thought highly authorised by reason! Your reserve to me, on the renewal of my acquaintance with your mother, I imputed, I acknowledge, to interested motives. That I love Lady Corbet, is no secret to you; but that I wished to alienate her fortune—nothing was ever farther from my thoughts! On the contrary, if your amiable mother bless me with her hand, it is my avowed, my earnest wish, that the estates appertaining to the Corbet family, should be resigned to you. My fortune is more than adequate to my wants or desires: and Heaven forbid that I should be instrumental in withholding from you those possessions, of which the injustice of your father would deprive you."
Sir Henry sighed, and Mr. Talton, after a moments pause, proceeded.—"Your mother has consented to resign the name of Corbet, when her son can be prevailed on to return: but whilst he is a wanderer, she cannot experience happiness. Thus, Sir Henry, you see the claims which are made upon you. Your mother's happiness, consequently mine—and I must think your own—depend on your compliance. I, therefore, again entreat your return to the seat of your ancestors; let these seeming mysteries be cleared up, and, by giving me a legal title to the name of father, let me compensate for him you have lost!"
Sir Henry appeared agitated, and, taking the hand of Mr. Talton, "I believe, Mr. Talton, I have mistaken your character. Your affection for my mother I am no stranger to; and sincerely wish it depended but on me to ensure your happiness: but, alas! the means would prove the bane! I will, however, see—will speak to my mother: more I dare not promise; and for that—I may, perhaps, answer with my life!"
Mr. Talton and the Captain regarded Sir Henry with a momentary astonishment—"Your life!" repeated the former—But Sir Henry bowed, and taking Frederick by the arm, left the room.
"May answer with his life!" reiterated Mr. Talton. "What, Howard, can he mean?"
The Captain could not resolve the question, and, after a few unsatisfactory surmises, they followed Sir Henry and Frederick, who were already on horseback. Sir Henry's reply, however, had given rise to such a confusion of ideas in the mind of Mr. Talton, he could by no means reconcile them; he therefore asked an explanation: but Sir Henry's answers tended only to increase the mystery.
In the afternoon, willing to avoid the revival of the subject, he lingered behind with Frederick; whilst the Captain and Mr. Talton, being engaged in a discourse highly interesting to the former, as it concerned his Ellenor, were not aware of the separation till they had gained the summit of a hill, where, on turning round, the Captain perceived them and their attendants nearly two miles behind. He immediately proposed to wait for them, and, retiring beneath the shade of an oak, began to descant on the prospect before them, which presented one of the richest scenes of autumn.
The non-appearance of Sir Henry and Frederick, however, soon recalled their attention from the beauties of nature; and the Captain, declaring his apprehension that some accident had happened, with every mark of impatient concern, descended the hill, followed by Mr. Talton and his servant. Their party, however, was not to be perceived. They had, indeed, taken a road, which led in a different direction from the bottom of the hill, and which the Captain now first observed. Anxious to overtake them, he hastened the pace of his horse, but no appearance of them could be discovered; and the road branching off into a variety of others, added to his perplexity. In this dilemma, he followed the advice of Mr. Talton, and entered that which, from its direction, they supposed would lead to Brecon: but it soon became so intricate, that they at last agreed to relinquish the attempt, and endeavour to trace their way back.