"I shall never forget your kindness to a friendless stranger, sir," said he, as he grasped my hand at parting. "To have met with such an unexpected friendship at my first outset, I may well consider a favourable omen; and I trust that the recollection of it will act as an additional incentive to prove myself worthy of it."
Years passed on, and I heard nothing further of my interesting acquaintance. In the meantime, I had become a husband and father; and my wife, to whom I had related the story of the young adventurer, felt equally interested with myself in his welfare, and we used often to speculate as to his probable fate. Ten years after the rencounter with which my story commences, I was sitting reading to my wife in the drawing-room, after breakfast, when we were startled by a knock at the front-door, followed by the servant's announcement that a gentleman wished to speak to me. I desired that he might be shown up-stairs, and hastened to meet him, thinking it was one of my neighbours, from whom I expected a visit. But what was my surprise when a tall, handsome man, with dark, sunburnt features, and whose person was quite strange to me, grasped my hand, and shook it most cordially, at the same time smiling as he watched the doubting scrutiny of my gaze, as a faint recollection of his features crossed my mind.
"I see you are puzzled, my dear sir," said he; "you do not remember me."
"I have a confused idea of having seen features like yours before," said I; "but where or when I cannot at this moment recall to my recollection."
"I do not wonder at your not remembering me," replied he, "but your disinterested kindness made an impression on a grateful heart, which neither time nor change have weakened. I am, or rather was, the boy Dalzell—the poor, friendless, desolate wanderer, whom you cheered with your benevolence, and animated by your advice. Do you remember me now?"
"I do—I do," said I, returning his warm grasp; "and most happy am I to see you again, and to see you thus; for I perceive that your sanguine hopes have not been disappointed, and that you have risen from your humble station to one more worthy of you."
"Fortune has indeed favoured me beyond my deserts," answered he. "I told you that my having met so kind a friend at my outset was a fortunate omen; it proved so. I entered the service as a boy before the mast; I am now a lieutenant in His Majesty's navy."
"I congratulate you with all my heart; but your modesty must not attribute your success to good fortune alone, there must have been merit likewise to deserve it. But I forget; I have a new acquaintance to introduce to you—my wife; a new acquaintance, but an old friend, I can assure you; for she has long been acquainted with, and felt interested in, your story."
My wife cordially welcomed him, and expressed her gratification at his return home in health and happiness.
"Alas, madam!" said he, "happiness, I fear, is as far from me as ever. I told my kind friend there, that I felt confident fortune would smile upon me: I was then a sanguine boy. Fortune has smiled upon me; I have risen from the humble station in which I commenced my career; I have gained for myself rank and competency; and I am now a disappointed man—the hope that cheered me on in my career is blighted. I returned to the home in which I had left all that was most dear to me in life: I found it deserted; my old master was dead—died in poverty; and Grace—my Grace, was gone, no one knew whither."