"I gave him his promised reward, and hastened, as fast as my feeble state would admit, to the Parsonage; where my aunt and Mrs. Blond, on hearing what had passed, urged me instantly to fly; but not choosing to put the friendship of St. Ledger again to a trial, or knowing where else to go, my aunt advised my seeking the protection of her Howard, whose generous heart, and the remembrance of his Ellenor, she doubted not, would render him favourable to my suit.
"You were then at Yarmouth; for my aunt had constant intelligence of your destinations from the time of your quitting Brighthelmstone; and refusing the money she would have forced me to accept, I set out on foot for Hay. But my escape was already discovered. Mallet, early in the morning, entered my room, and finding me gone, immediately dispatched the servants in pursuit of me.
"This I learned from old Owen, and was again obliged to have recourse to the gypsey, who, knowing the urgency of the moment, refused the offer of my clothes for his, without a considerable gratuity. It was not a time to argue or deliberate; I therefore paid his demand, and soon found myself in rags, and with something less than three guineas. I, however, travelled in safety, though reduced to some distress from the lowness of my purse, and at last reached the spot, where the benevolence of my friend Frederick relieved me from apprehended danger.
"I was beginning to recover my tranquillity, when the appearance of Mr. Talton drove me from your protection:—of my subsequent rencounter with the smugglers, I have already informed you. After my escape from them, I worked my passage to Cardigan; where, anxious to see my aunt and Eliza, I proceeded immediately for the Parsonage, secure, as I thought, in my sailor's habit. The appearance of Mallet drove me to the cottage of Owen, who informed me of the report circulated of my death, and that you, Mr. Talton, had previously to your going to Holland, in my mother's name, demanded of Mrs. Blond, the back rents of the lands, my father had attached to the Parsonage, and which my mother had already torn from her possession."
"'I now,' said Mr. Talton, 'take shame to myself for the action, to which I was instigated by Lady Corbet, who informed me, Mrs. Blond had in her house a woman the late Sir Henry had kept previously to his marriage, and on whom he had since lavished immense sums; that, to reward Blond for affording her his countenance, he had allowed him the free rent of the lands; likewise, that she suspected Mrs. Blond was endeavouring to inveigle you, Sir Henry, into a marriage with her daughter. I cannot say this account agreed with the characters I ever received of Mr. and Mrs. Blond; but such was my affection for your mother, that I still retained the opinion she had impressed me with. She did not, she said, want the money; but being certain they were the instigators of your elopement, she wished to have them removed to a greater distance, but knew no other means to effect it, without exposing the conduct of the late Sir Henry, which she would willingly avoid. On going to the parsonage, I was introduced to a lady I had never before seen: the beauty of her face and figure, added to the extreme shyness and embarrassment with which she received me, induced me to think she was the mistress your mother had mentioned; and I am sorry to say, I behaved to her with a harshness and severity, I am now convinced she did not deserve; but I should sooner have discredited the evidence of my senses, than the word of your mother; and scarcely, indeed, can I believe them, in the discovery this day has afforded! But, I beg pardon, Sir Henry; pray proceed.'"
"Alarmed at the intelligence I received," continued Sir Henry, "I hastened to the Parsonage, and found it deserted by all but Mary, who confirmed the truth of old Owen's report: and that, on the news arriving of my death, they had been obliged to fly, as Mallet had threatened to send them to gaol. Mary wept as she gave me the relation of their distress, and at last said—'Ah! Sir Henry, would to Heaven you had never left the Hall; for I heard old Thomas tell my Lady, if you had staid, and thought of the pannel, all had been well; they should not now have had to regret your death, or been unjustly driven on a merciless world, to seek their maintenance.'
"Mary knew not the meaning of what she uttered, but, quick as lightning, it brought to my recollection a pannel which concealed a small cavity in a closet adjoining the library. There, I doubted not the will was placed! The woman my father loved, my aunt, her Edward, and her on whose happiness I then found mine depended, were wandering without support: and the idea determined me, regardless of the consequence which must ensue, should I be discovered, to venture beneath the roof I so lately fled from!
"Favoured by the night, I entered by the servants offices, and got, unperceived, through the library to the closet. Mary had provided me with a small dark lanthorn, and, with some difficulty I opened the cavity; but again was doomed to disappointment; it was vacant! With an aching heart I closed the pannel, and was going to leave the closet, when my mother and Mallet entered the library. They discoursed on the improvement of an estate he had purchased for my mother a few weeks before; till Mr. Talton's name was casually mentioned, when he asked if she really designed to marry him? and, on her answering in the affirmative, he endeavoured to dissuade her from it, and to prevail on her to bestow her hand on himself.
"'I love you, Charles,' she answered, 'and believe your sentiments are reciprocal; but will never put it in your power to controul me. I am now mistress of a noble fortune; and you are welcome to partake of it, even if increased by that of Talton. Cease then to repeat the only request I wish to refuse you; and rest satisfied with the title of my lover.'
"He still urged his suit, still she peremptorily forbade the subject, and reverted to the newly-purchased estate; he soon after retired to his office, and my mother entered the closet where I was, for the purpose of writing. Never was surprise and horror greater than that expressed on her countenance at beholding me: scarcely could her trembling hand retain the light which exposed the features of a son to her view.—'It is the phantom of the drowned Corbet!' she at length faintly screamed. 'Approach me not! Help—help!'