What Donald’s feelings were on finding himself thus so superbly quartered, now that he had time to think on the subject, and could do so unrestrained by the presence of any one, we do not precisely know; but, if one might have judged by the under-breath exclamations in which he indulged, and by the looks of amazement and inquiry which he cast around him, from time to time, on the splendours by which he was surrounded, especially on the gorgeous bed, with its gilt canopy and curtains of crimson silk, which was destined for his night’s resting-place, these feelings would appear to have been, after all, fully more perplexing than pleasing. It was, in truth, just too much of a good thing; and Donald felt it to be so. But still the whole had a smack of good fortune about it that was very far from being disagreeable, and that certainly had the effect of reconciling Donald to the little discordance between former habits and present circumstances, which his position for the time excited.
While at breakfast on the following morning with Don Antonio and his mother and sister, the first asked Donald if he had any particular ties in his own country that would imperatively demand his return home; and on Donald’s replying that there were none, Don Antonio immediately inquired whether he would accept a commission in the King of Spain’s body-guards:—“Because,” said he, “if you will, I have, I believe, influence enough to procure it for you.”
Donald said he had no objection in the world to try it for a year or two, at any rate—only he would like to consult his “broder Tuncan” first.
“True, true,” said Don Antonio; “I promised to assist you in finding out your relative—and I shall do so.”
As good as his word in this particular, and a great deal better in many others in which Donald was interested, Don Antonio instantly set an inquiry on foot, which, in less than two hours, brought the brothers together. The sequel of our story, although containing the very essence of Donald’s good fortune, is soon told. His brother, highly approving of his accepting the commission offered to him, Don Antonio lost no time in procuring him that appointment; and in less than three weeks from his arrival in Madrid, Donald Gorm figured as a captain in the King of Spain’s body-guards, in which service he ultimately attained the rank of colonel, together with a title of honour, which enabled him to ask, without fear of giving offence, and to obtain, the hand of Donna Nunnez, with a dowry second to that of no fair damsel in Spain. Donald never again returned to Eddernahulish, but continued in the country of his adoption till his death; and in that country some of his descendants to this hour bear amongst the proudest names of which it can boast.
THE SURGEON’S TALES.
THE CURED INGRATE.
Every person who has studied, even in the most cursory manner, the checkered page of human life, must have observed that there are in continual operation through mankind some great secret moral agents, the powers of which are exerted within the heart, and beyond the reach of the consciousness or observation of the individual himself who is subject to their influence. There is a steadfastness of virtue in some high-minded men, which enables them to resist the insidious temptations of the bad demon; there is also a stern stability of vice often found in the unfortunate outlaw, which disregards, for a time, the voice of conscience, and spurns the whispered wooing of the good principle, “charm it never so wisely;” yet the real confessions of the hearts of those individuals would show traces enough of the agency of the unseen power to prove their want of title to an exception from the general rule which includes all the sons of Adam. We find, also, that extraordinary moral effects are often produced, in a dark and mysterious manner, from physical causes: every medical man has the power of recording, if he has had the faculty of observing, changes in the minds, principles, and feelings of patients who have come through the fiery ordeal of a terrible disease, altogether unaccountable on any rules of philosophy yet discovered.