I was not deceived; and the result proved that I had calculated soundly on the ability and experience of my unknown visitor. Dreading that it might increase my excitement, the Chilleno doctors had inhibited the visits of my child. The Englishman adopted a different course: Isidora was sent for from the convent, and she ministered to a mind diseased and the soft influence of filial love, like the melody of David’s harp, effected a gentle cure, and soothed into tranquillity a spirit for so many years perturbed.
By the stranger’s advice, I determined to quit the country, and return to my native land. I disposed of my estates, transmitted my fortune safely to England; and, with a dearer treasure far, my gentle Isidora, sailed for the island-home of freedom, and landed on my native shores, after having been a wanderer and alien for one-and-twenty years.
A long absence had rendered European manners strange; and, for a time, I felt myself unequal to the novel task which a return to England had imposed, that of mingling in society. For two years, Isidora and I wandered through every portion of the British islands, for the Continent was then closed against the traveller. Time, change of scene, and the constant presence of my darling child, effected a mental cure, and verified the assurances given me in South America by my able physician, that my recovery would be permanent. I wished at least to have the semblance of a home, although the very name recalled my past calamities; and, in order that I might fall back, when wearied with the world, on a retirement congenial to my fancy, I purchased that wild retreat in which our first acquaintance was so singularly formed. Thither, I have occasionally retired to enjoy solitude and my child’s society. Ours, indeed, seemed stolen visits on the world,—and we both felt that calm pleasure only to be estimated by those who hwe lived for each other and alone, when, like wild birds to their nest, we sought and found the peaceful seclusion which our mountain home afforded.
Your visit, Hector, rekindled feelings long suppressed, and spurred me to exertions that, probably, under other circumstances, I should hwe wanted nerve to undertake. Strange as it may appear, for several years I watched your progress into manhood. The first impressions when we met were favourable; and a more extended acquaintance has corroborated them. For your sake, and for Isidora’s, I have sacrificed my own yearnings after solitude, and come upon the stage of life anew. My existence is unknown; my errand unsuspected. Should I succeed in my present objects, a noble inheritance shall be restored to the rightful heir; and should I fail, I have a consolation left, in feeling that I have fortune’s gifts at my disposal, and amply sufficient, so far as wealth can confer peace and independence, to ensure both to my children. You mark the term—Can he to whom Isidora’s happiness is to be confided be aught but a son to me?”
The record of an eventful life was ended; and I bound those documents together, the perusal of which had occasioned an intense but painful interest. It was long past midnight. At day-light it was necessary that I should be stirring; and I retired to bed, to snatch a few hours of repose.
I was still asleep when a gentle touch upon the shoulder dispelled my uneasy slumbers, and the faithful follower of my uncle’s fortunes told me it was time to dress, and that the camarados of my intended voyage and campaigns were afoot, and waiting in the court-yard. Indeed, the ratcatcher’s presence was intimated already—for in perfect indifference as to what might be the complexion of our future fortune, Shemus Rhua was croning an Irish ditty. I dressed by candlelight, descended to the eating-room, and there found “mine honoured uncle.” Alas—Isidora was not there to say farewell. She slept, poor girl, little dreaming that we had already parted; and that many a month and stormy passage in a soldier’s life must wear away, before I should be permitted to return and claim her plighted hand.
“Hector,” said my uncle, with a sigh, as he received the papers he had entrusted to me, and immediately committed them to the fire, “you are now in full possession of every secret of my life. ‘Tis done—the disclosure is made—and I have nothing either to communicate or conceal. No more of this; the clock chimes,—and our hour of parting hurries on. I am going to deprive you of a follower, provided you can dispense with the services of Captain Macgreal, and that he is willing to transfer his allegiance to me. Pray step down; and if the ratcatcher has no particular objection, let me have his valuable assistance till you return. ‘Strange fortunes produce strange bedfellows,’ a proverb says; and singular positions require as singular agents. Odd as it may appear, in the tangled web I shall have to unravel, I may be beholden for success to that wild woman who seems devoted to your interests, or this wandering personage, who appeal’s equally attached, and willing to follow where you lead.”
A brief communication with Shemus Rhua effected my uncle’s wish; and the ratcatcher placed his services at the disposal of Mr. Hartley. Sooth to say, the captain’s previous experience of a martial life had left no craving in his breast after “the bubble reputation.”
Nothing could be more picturesque than the departure of the fleet from Portsmouth; and years afterwards, memory recalled the poet’s description, and I could have imagined that Byron had been a fellow-passenger. The morning was brilliant. The signal gun was answered. All were immediately under way.
“I ween, a full fair sight;