The Wizard of West Penwith: A Tale of the Land's-End

by William Bentinck Forfar

"Why, wherever ded you come from?" exclaimed Mrs. Brown; "why, you're mazed, to be sure, Come in, do, and sit down, while I do light the fire and fit a cup o' tea for 'ee. Dear lor'! wonders will nevar cease. Miss Reeney here this time in the mornin'!"

It was indeed Alrina, exhausted and hungry. She had walked all the way from Pendrea-house to St. Just through the night. Her father's death she had borne bravely, after the first shock, and she intended to have remained at Pendrea-house until after the funeral, and then to have gone into some respectable service to gain her own livelihood, as companion to some invalid lady, or nursery governess. She was very grateful to her kind friends, but she could not impose on their good nature. Then came that cruel treatment which she supposed Frederick had planned, in order to be revenged for the coolness she had shown towards him. She deserved it,—she knew she deserved it; but it was hard to bear. Then came Blanche's discovery of her secret love, and, to crown all, the news of the mysterious disappearance of her father's body. Her friends would still be kind to her—she knew that—and would pity her, and alleviate her painful position as much as lay in their power. Of this she was quite sure: but this was repugnant to her feelings;—she would rather die, than live to be pitied,—she could not bear to think of it. She requested to be left alone for the night, as she was tired and wanted rest.

What should she do? If she remained there till the morning, and named her intention of leaving, the family would not hear of it; they would compel her to remain, and would probably watch her, in their kindness. After thinking over her position for some time, she made up her mind that she would leave at once, or at least as soon as the house was quiet. She would find her way to the road as well as she could; and then she would go direct to St. Just, where she would be able to learn the full particulars of this mysterious affair.

The house was not quiet until late. Miss Pendray's adventure caused great commotion, and kept the servants up late; but the interest they took in their young mistress's adventure, and their concern for her, and joy at her narrow escape, drove all thoughts of their visitor out of their heads, and she was left quite undisturbed. She wrote a letter to Mrs. Pendray, thanking her for all her kindness, and saying that circumstances compelled her to leave; and when the house was perfectly quiet, she put on some of the warmest clothing she had with her, and went out into the cold night. She missed her way several times, but at length got into the broad road, which she knew pretty well, and arrived at Mrs. Brown's house, where she knew she would meet with a hearty welcome, before any of the inhabitants of St. Just were astir.

It was early, too, when Frederick Morley arrived at Pendrea-house that morning in search of Alrina. In his haste and excitement to communicate the delightful intelligence he had just learned to the one nearest and dearest to his heart, he quite forgot the carriage which was waiting in the lane, so that he was some time in reaching the house; and when he arrived at the door, he was exhausted and out of breath, and totally unfit for the duty which he had come there to perform. So he thought his best plan would be to have a private interview with his brother, and ask him to be the bearer of the message to Alrina from her supposed aunt.

Mr. Morley was very much surprised at the tale his brother told him. He could hardly believe it could be true; but as Frederick said that Mrs. Courland seemed satisfied that Alrina was her daughter, and was at that moment receiving more proofs of it, he felt bound to adopt the belief too, and promised to see Alrina at once, and induce her to go to the cottage to see her aunt.

Frederick thought that, after what had occurred, it would be better for his brother to see Alrina alone; for, although he had started with the full determination of seeing her himself, and bringing her with him to the cottage to hear the welcome and delightful news, yet, when he considered the manner in which she had treated him in their former interviews, and remembered also that he had solicited an interview with her the day before, and had not kept his appointment, his heart failed him, and he proposed that his brother should see her alone, and he would wait his return.

After some little time, Mr. Morley returned, saying that he had sought an interview with Alrina through her friend Blanche, who immediately went to her room, and found no one there. On the table she found a letter, expressing her deep gratitude to Mrs. Pendray and all the family for the great kindness they had shown her in her distress, but stating, at the same time, she could not, after all that had occurred in connection with her and her's, trespass on their kindness any longer. She knew that their goodness and kind hospitality would not permit her to leave them, she went on to say, if she remained to take leave of them; and, therefore, to avoid pain to all parties, she had taken this step, which she felt seemed like ingratitude,—but it was not so. From her heart she thanked them all; and should she succeed in getting into some situation, whereby she could gain her own livelihood honourably, they should hear from her. If not,—God only knew what might become of her.

Mr. Morley read this much from the letter which he held in his hand, and then handed it to his brother.

"Gone!" cried Frederick, at length; "gone! just as the dark cloud was being lifted, which had obscured her so long! Can it be possible? Gone! But where can she have gone to? She had no friends—she has often told me this—no friends but her father and aunt."