CHAPTER XLIV. THE CRISIS APPROACHES.
North.——“Every minute now
Should be the father of a stratagem
Yea, this man’s brow, like to a title-leaf,
Foretells the nature of a tragick volume.”
2d Part of Hen. IV.
A letter I had received on my return to the head-quarters of the fourth division, after my séjour with the Empecinado, had apprized me that events in which my future fortunes were involved, hurried rapidly to a crisis. My communications with England had then ceased; and, on my unexpected return home, I found I had opportunely arrived when my presence was most desirable, and the dénouement of the drama was at hand.
Without wearying the reader with the details of my uncle’s proceedings, we will bring their results before him, up to the evening when at Bromley Hall I popped so unexpectedly through a window, and frightened two amiable ladies into fainting-fits.
It was the evening of a sultry day, the harvest had commenced, and, over a rich and picturesque expanse of country, far as the eye could range, the sickle was busily employed. On an elevation, in a domain of noble extent, a gentleman far advanced in years, was seated on a rustic bench, under the expansive shadow of an oak the growth of centuries. At times he looked at the busy and interesting scene which the landscape all around presented—and then resumed the perusal of a newspaper. The domain was Clifford Park—the old English gentleman was my grandfather.