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CHAP. V

"You cannot but recollect, my lord, (addressing himself to the Baron,) that, when you married the Lady Blanch, I came into your family. I had been brought up in her father's house, and from a boy was appointed to attend her person, no one being allowed to command or employ me without her permission. When all preliminaries were settled for your marriage with my lady, I was informed that I was still to have the honour of attending her; a favour so great, and voluntarily conferred, rendered me not a little vain. You soon after married, and I became a resident in your family: my lady still distinguishing me with her approbation, made me grateful and happy, and, though I was frequently reproached by my fellow-servants, with ill-humour and acrimony, for being so great a favourite, I endeavoured all in my power to convince them, I wished not to deprive them of any advantages they had enjoyed before I came among them, and this in a little time made them more reconciled and obliging.

My dear young master was then in his infancy, and my place not being one of the busiest, I had many hours of leisure, which I was allowed to dispose of as suited my inclination: these hours I chiefly spent in the nursery, and, being remarkably fond of children, I soon became so strongly attached to the young lord, that I often regretted the necessity of leaving him, which I was sometimes obliged to do for weeks and months together, either when your lordship took my lady to town, paid visits to your friends, or went to any other of your estates; and once, if you recollect, you were absent a long time, when you carried my lady to Montpellier, whose declining health led you to adopt this plan for her recovery, which the physicians said would perfectly restore that bloom a slow and nervous fever had stolen from her, and alarmed every friend who saw the ravages sickness had made in a countenance formed to captivate. – Ah! that unfortunate excursion! – I have wished with an aching heart a thousand and a thousand times it had never been made.

During our absence my lady lost her fever, and gave birth to a son, who very soon engrossed so much of her time and affection, that your lordship had just reason to complain of the change it produced. There was another change which you did not so soon discover.

During our residence among a parcel of jabbering foreigners, my lady learned to despise the blessed manners and customs of her native country, and all those feelings which once made her so charming. We must eat, drink, sleep, dress, and do every thing after the French fashion. I was often reproved for retaining more than any of my fellow-servants my clumsy English manners. She frequently expressed her satisfaction that her son first saw the light on the Gallic shore, where, if she could have persuaded your lordship, she would have continued to reside.

After an absence of eighteen months, which appeared to me the length of as many years, we returned to England, and found my young lord just recovered from the small-pox, of a very bad sort, which had so much altered him, that my lady believed, or rather affected to believe, that your son had been changed during our absence, or that he might have died, and some designing artful people had imposed their own offspring upon you, to usurp his rights, and rob her little darling of his title and estate. The boy she found in your castle could not be the sweet creature she left: —he was beautiful and finely formed; —this was ugly to a degree, robust, clumsy, and half an ideot.

I know not what arts were used to make your lordship give any credit to so fallacious and improbable a tale; but I observed, with unfeigned regret, from that time your affection was continually decreasing, till at last your son was seldom admitted to your presence, and never indulged with those fond caresses which, previous to your departure from England, were frequently and tenderly repeated. He was generally dismissed with the epithets of beggar's brat, foundling, and ideot."

"I feel deep contrition for yielding belief to such infernal tales, (said the Baron,) – for being so long the dupe and tool of a designing malicious woman, and neglecting the son of the most amiable and best of wives. Ah! my Isabella! if you are permitted to look down on this lower world, – if you are acquainted with the conduct of him to whom you entrusted your virgin-heart, and made the chosen lord of your destiny, how must you despise and detest the mean, the forgetful wretch, who deserted the sacred, the precious charge you so tenderly committed to his care! May my future penitence atone for the cruelty of my past conduct, and my sainted Isabella intercede with her Creator for pardon and forgiveness! Then may Fitzosbourne hope her spirit will in the grave find a place of rest. No wonder my crimes have robbed her even of that asylum."

The tears of remorse stole down the Baron's cheeks, and he gave Walter a look of tender regret, that said as much as volumes could have done.

"I know to what your lordship alludes, (said Walter,) and I am happy that it is in my power to remove a tormenting delusion from your mind, which, all circumstances considered, I cannot be surprised, made so forcible an impression on it. The striking likeness which I bear to my ever-regretted mother had often been remarked to me by Albert, and was undoubtedly designed to be the means of restoring me a father.

Every one being impatient to hear the remainder of the prisoner's story, the explanation was deferred, and Albert went on.

"Before my young lord had recovered his former complexion, or his features began to reassume some traits of what they had been, till attacked and disguised by that baneful distemper, so often the grave of beauty, – the enemy of love, I was one day summoned into my lady's dressing-room. After desiring me to shut the door, and take care our conversation was not overheard, she bade me sit down; I obeyed reluctantly, as I never before had been allowed the honour of sitting in her presence. She then inquired if I were in reality as much attached to her as I had frequently pretended to be, and whether, if she should have occasion to place a confidence in me, and require my assistance, she might trust to my fidelity?

"As to your life, my good Albert, (cried her ladyship, rising, and putting her purse and picture into my hand, which she compelled me to take,) I hope that will long be preserved to do me service. The request I shall make will neither involve you in difficulties not danger; and if you faithfully perform what will be asked of you, rely upon my word, it will not only free you from labour and servitude, but be a certain means of procuring you a comfortable independence for the rest of your life, – an income that will enable you to marry the woman you love, with whom you may live to see yourself surrounded with a numerous offspring. (The picture was drawn in the most flattering colours, – the back ground was no quite so pleasing.) – But you must, to obtain my good opinion, and secure to yourself those enviable comforts, (continued her ladyship,) unconditionally and without knowing the nature of the service required of you, take a solemn and sacred oath never to betray, by thought, word or deed, the confidence reposed in you. I will give you three days to consider of my proposal, and at the end of that time shall expect your answer."

"I was now ordered to withdraw, which I immediately did, in a state of mind not to be imagined. What could my lady mean? – what was the business in which I was to be employed that demanded the solemn prelude of an oath? Oaths were sacred things; they were not to be trifled with, and were thought necessary only on the most important occasions. I next recollected that I had known my lady from a child: she had ever been my friend, had frequently given me good advice, and was religious, generous, and charitable. It could not therefore be any wicked or unjust action she wanted me to accomplish; that was contrary to her nature. What then had I to fear from taking an oath which could do no one any harm, and might make my fortune? Independence was promised me. I was young, sanguine, and aspiring, yet I had never dared to hope being placed in a situation above that I at present enjoyed. The lure was thrown out by a hand I could not resist, and I was caught by the tempting bait, which I swallowed to the destruction of my own peace."

"But, by your fortunately having done so, (exclaimed Walter,) my life was repeatedly preserved to enjoy the present moment of exquisite happiness and soul-enlivening hope." – He fixed his eyes tenderly on the blushing Roseline, as he uttered this affecting exclamation.

"When the appointed time was expired, (continued Albert,) I was admitted to a second conference with my lady, and without making any terms, being, as I thought, well assured I might safely rely on her virtue and rectitude as trust to her generosity, I took the oath, which was tended to me by father Paul, her confessor and domestic chaplain, to obey such orders as were given me with secresy and fidelity, for which I was to receive in quarterly payments eighty pounds a year, and to have clothes, board, and every other necessary, allowed me. – Father Paul bore the character of a just and pious man; therefore, had I retained any reluctance, receiving the oath from so sacred and important a personage would have rendered any doubts an unpardonable offence against our holy church. In compliance with my earnest request to be informed what was expected to be done by me, and when I was to enter on my task, father Paul himself, after some little hesitation, opened the business.

"Her ladyship (he said) was convinced, and he was of the same opinion, that the child, (meaning my young lord,) which passed for the son of the worthy and unsuspicious Baron, was in all probability the spurious offspring of some low-born peasant, the fruit of an illicit and illegal amour, imposed upon the noble family, for base and artful purposes, by some designing wretch, after the death of the lawful heir, which, by some very wonderful means, has so far been brought to light as to confirm the fact. This child was so totally different from that left in England, it could not possibly be the same. He was beautiful, sensible, lively, and active; this was an ugly brat, dull, and stupid, and as much the child of King Solomon as of the Baron. – It was become necessary for the honour and comfort of the family to send it away: it was to be removed into some distant and healthy country for change of air, and placed with a country woman to be nursed. After he had been absent a few months, I was to withdraw myself from the Baron's service, take the boy from his ignorant nurse, and accompany him to whatever place I should be directed. Till he came to a certain age, I was to have the occasional assistance of a female in rearing him up, and was desired to do all I could for the poor stupid creature, who, to be sure, in the eyes of impartial justice, had not yet been guilty of a crime; but, to prevent his being so, by monopolizing the rights of another, this plan was adopted.

"I was next commanded never to presume to give the most distant hint either to himself or any one else, that he had ever been suspected, or even thought of consequence, – never to mention the name of Fitzosbourne to him, or to say that he or myself had resided in the family. When he arrived at the age of fifteen, I might, if I were so inclined, give up my task, and should have proper security for receiving my salary during the rest of my life, even if the boy should luckily die before the age fixed upon to release me from my engagements. If I chose the trouble, I might teach him to read and write; but it was a matter of little consequence: – the less such people knew, the better. – ignorance to them was happiness, and knowledge only a burthen, of which it was better not to be possessed.

"I had been unwarily drawn into the snare from which I now wanted judgement, courage, resolution, to disentangle myself. The influence and unbounded power my lady ever held over me, – her consequence, and my humble station, arose to my terrified imagination, and I dared not venture to expostulate against a plan sanctioned by the Lady Blanch, and approved by father Paul, with whom it was equally dangerous to contend.

"Of the identity of the young lord I never cherished a doubt; and, if I had, the restoration of his sweet features to their former beauty and expression, which was now beginning to take place, would have banished them as soon as they arose; yet the fear of offending kept me silent: the oath I had taken hung over me with terror; – every struggle I made with conscience was over-ruled by worldly motives. I would not be perjured, but I consented to be ten times worse. Alas! I little suspected, when I took that sacred, yet unhallowed oath, that I was sentencing myself and a helpless innocent to years of hopeless imprisonment, – to a kind of living death, and burthening my conscience with the heavy crime of being the vile agent in assisting to rob the best, the most amiable of all God's creatures of his title, a noble estate, and even of that freedom which the poorest of his father's vassals enjoyed."

"Dear Albert, (cried Walter,) do not abuse yourself so unjustly: represent not your actions in colours that do not belong to them. If I suffered, you did the same; the barbarous hands which robbed me of liberty, and the all-cheering light of heaven, deprived you also of your's. Had it not been for your unremitting and watchful care, your more than parental tenderness, I had long ere now been numbered with the dead, and my existence and injuries lost in eternal oblivion."

"My noble boy, (exclaimed the Baron,) there spoke the soul of your angelic mother! Just so would she have shewn her grateful sense of benefits received. – Go on, my friend, regard not the feelings you excite; they are due to the sufferings of this injured youth, and to the virtues of his generous guardian and protector."

Albert proceeded. – "A plan so deeply laid and artfully contrived, supported by such authority and power, succeeded but too well. I was, in due time, form, and order, dismissed from your lordship's castle, and very soon the precious charge was delivered into the hands of the villain who had been aiding and abetting his ruin; but the degrading, self-reproving feelings, the horrid conflicts I endured, in the moment when the innocent victim ran joyfully into the arms of the Judas who had betrayed him, shouting, jumping, and skipping with pleasure, to think I was come to live with him, and be his nurse, were such as I would not have encountered for ten thousand worlds, could I have foretold the scorpion stings with which I found them armed at all points. It was judged necessary that we should speedily remove from the house of the poor, ignorant woman to whom my young lord had been entrusted, and under whose fostering and maternal care he had entirely recovered his looks, and found more happiness than in the habitation of greatness. I took care she should not go unrewarded for her kindness, and received at the expected time my instructions for our removal.

"After a long and tiresome journey, we arrived at an old ruinated castle, on the boarders of – , and there I found a woman, who was appointed to assist me in the care of my important charge. We had a small, gloomy, and inconvenient apartment appropriated to our use; our table was tolerably well supplied: we had plenty of what the country afforded, were never denied any addition I requested should be made to our wardrobe, and at times books and toys were sent unsolicited; my salary was likewise punctually remitted me.

"Here we lingered away some time, and were afterwards removed to two places before we were brought hither, owing I suppose to some circumstance that rendered our removal necessary, for the better secreting of our persons. Long before the time expired in which my engagement was to end, and I should be authorised to demand my freedom and continued award, I found myself so strongly attached to my young lord, felt such pity for his situation, and such corroding regret at having lent my assistance to his cruel prosecutors, I could not support the most distant idea of forsaking him, and would have suffered torture rather than have left him in a state so desolate and unprotected.

"I hinted in my letters, that, if any attempts were made to separate me from my beloved charge, I should consider the oath which had hitherto kept me faithful to their secret as no longer binding. I heard by chance of the death of Lady Blanch, but never till very lately that she had lost her son. I for some months cherished hopes that her death would procure our liberty, and release me from my oath, but I was soon given to understand, that to her brother she had discovered the secret; that, in future, our remittances were to be sent by his order, and we were to be guided by his direction.

Finding things thus settled and arranged, after we had lived so many years in confinement, I concluded that the whole plan had been contrived and executed with your lordship's consent, and no longer doubted but it was your wish that the son of the Lady Blanch should inherit your titles and estates."

"Good God! (exclaimed the Baron,) how awful and mysterious are they dealings with us erring mortals! I was told, and supposed the tale was true, that my poor boy died suddenly, in a few months after he was sent from the castle, on the pretence that change of air was necessary. I gave orders for his interment in our family-vault, went into mourning, and knew not till this ever blessed day that a son of mine existed. – Unhappy, mistaken, guilty Blanch! – the untimely fate of thy darling boy is now fully and solemnly accounted for! It was doubtless the just judgement of heaven for thy unpardonable crimes in depriving the son of my Isabella first of his father's love, and then of his protection. The agonies of thy dying moments are now explained: they were the direful effects of unavailing contrition; for, when thou wouldst have relieved thy mind of its heavy burthen, speech was denied thee: I hope thy anguish, in those moments of terror, have in part atoned for they unheard of cruelty.

"Father Paul has found a shelter in the grave from my resentment; but the man, I will not call him brother, who must have been tempted to take an active part in this iniquitous business, in the hopes of obtaining some of my fortune for his children, still lives to feel my anger. What could induce one of his exalted rank to persecute and rob the innocent, if from his sufferings and seclusion he had not expected to reap considerable benefit!"

"Perhaps the fear of punishment and exposure might prompt them to continue the deception, (said Albert;) what occasioned our removal to this castle I could never learn; it was sudden, and conducted with secresy and caution, for we were guarded as if we had been prisoners of state, owing, I presume, to some attack being made, or meditated, against the castle we left; but, whatever was the cause, we had reason to be thankful for the change it produced, as we had more liberty, and better accommodation, than we had experienced in any other prison."

"I shall ever reproach myself, (said Sir Philip,) for having been led into an act of such unpardonable oppression, for which I can never stand excused to my own heart. I trusted too implicitly to the account which was given me, not doubting the honour or veracity of the parties concerned. I must now entreat, the worthy narrator would proceed with his story, for I own I am very impatient to know how the son of my friend obtained an introduction to my daughter."

"I trust, my father and indulgent friends will excuse my absence, (said Roseline,) during a recital, that, in my present agitated state of mind, would be too much for me to support."

"No, no, no!" was echoed from every part of the room. Walter, rising, and seating himself by the side of Roseline, whispered something in her ear that instantly reconciled her to a compliance with the general request of the company.

Albert then proceeded, and gave an account of their first interesting interview, and of the dangerous state to which long confinement and a slow fever had reduced his master. He dwelt with delight on the tender attentions of the charming Roseline to the poor, forlorn, helpless, and dying prisoner; described her unremitting care, and mentioned with what joy he marked their growing affection, which was soon visible to all the parties but those most interested. – The friendship of Edwin was not forgotten, nor were the polite and sisterly attentions of the gentle Madeline passed over in silence. Nothing was omitted in the narrative but the Baron's fright in the subterranean passage, and that for reasons which will hereafter appear, he dared not venture to explain.

"Your alarm, my lord, (continued Albert,) on the night the ball was given by Sir Philip de Morney, and which occasioned so much bustle and confusion, originated from a cause more natural than you, misled by terror, could suppose. To explain things in their proper order, we must go back to the day previous to that of the ball.

"Miss De Morney and her brother had informed my master of what was intended; in consequence of this intelligence, he became more restless and wretched than I had ever seen him, and felt the miseries of his situation so severely, that I trembled for the consequence so irritable a state of mind might produce on a constitution sufficiently injured already by the unsparing rigours of oppression and confinement. I therefore, without giving him a hint of my intention, formed a plan in my own mind to relieve his sufferings, little suspecting the surprising and happy effects of which it would be productive, or once supposing, that, in his successful rival, I should see Baron Fitzosbourne. – Never was I so puzzled as in the moment I made that discovery, to conceal the feelings by which it was attended, from giving any alarm to those which had already harassed and half destroyed my dear master.

Without much difficulty I prevailed on Mr. De Morney to procure me two female dresses, telling him for what purpose they were intended. He was a first astonished at the singularity of my request; but, finding no ill consequences likely to attend it, readily complied, and with the assistance of his sister the matter was easily accomplished.

"We helped each other in putting on female attire as well as we could, and took as much care as possible to make such an appearance as was not likely to attract attention. At the time appointed we sallied forth in our female habiliments, slipped through some of the forsaken apartments, and joined without any suspicion a vast number of people who had obtained permission to witness the festival, and see the company dance.

"The eyes of my young lord were feasted by beholding the beloved object who engrossed his every thought, and constituted his every wish, exhibit her elegant person in the mazy windings of the dance, which till now he had never seen. With a kind of saddened delight, he was soon convinced, that, though her person was engaged, her heart appeared to have no share in the pleasure which was legibly depicted on the countenance of her youthful companions; but, on that which his eyes alone delighted to mark, he saw a silent uncomplaining sadness, which, at the time it wounded, cheered and revived his soul with the sweet hope that, had he been present, had he been her envied partner, no sadness had clouded her brow, – no regret found entrance to her bosom.

"She frequently withdrew her eyes from the company to fix them on the humble crowd, in which she concluded her lover was numbered. He likewise felt his spirits relieved by the coldness and indifference with which he saw she received every flattering attention that was paid her. – When he had sufficiently satisfied his curiosity, and I observed he was weary of being incommoded by the number of people which continued to increase, I whispered him that I thought it time to retire, while the coast was clear, and we could steal away undiscovered.

"He desired me to go first, saying he would follow me in a few moments. I instantly obeyed. My master, by taking a wrong turn, was passing through your lordship's bedchamber as you entered it. He saw it was his rival, and, in the instantaneous indignation of the moment, forgot every thing but he resentment which was rankling in his bosom. – You perceived him, – looked alarmed, and trembled: he frowned, and shook his head, while the face on which you gazed with terror was flushed with passion.

"On seeing you fall, unable to account for the cause, and fearful of being discovered, he hurried out of the room, and hastened to inform me of what had happened. – Hearing a vast bustle, I instantly disrobed my master of his female attire, having already gotten rid of my own disguise? – I was next day informed by Mr. De Morney that your lordship had been alarmed by something in your own room, and was much indisposed. I soon collected sufficient proof to be assured that it was the appearance of your son which had occasioned this confusion, and imparted enough of my sentiments to make myself understood. From that moment, having no alternative, no other method to adopt, in order to bring about a discovery, we agreed to enter the chapel, and these gentlemen, at the request of their friend, hesitated not to be of the party."

To confirm more fully, and to remove every doubt from the mind of the Baron, Albert produced many of the clothes and trinkets which had been sent by the Lady Blanch. The mark of a bunch of currants on the arm of Walter, with which he was born, and which had been occasioned by one of nature's strongest freaks, was perfectly recollected by the Baron, and was a fact not to be controverted.

So many corroborating and convincing testimonies of his identity would have banished doubt, had any doubt remained; but truth and nature were too prevailing to be disputed; the countenance of Walter was, unsupported with farther evidence, sufficient to prove him the son of the Lady Isabella.

This narrative contained so many interesting circumstances, cold and unfeeling must have been the heart which could have heard it with disbelief or indifference: no such heart was enshrined in the bosom of the delighted audience; every eye readily paid the tribute of a tear. The conduct of Roseline and her brother was generally applauded and admired; all were eager to praise, and De Clavering slily observed, that, if any young lady should fall in his way who had a mind to study the use of herbs, he should conclude she had something more in her head than a wish to learn physic or botany.

"Perhaps 'tis a sign of luf, (said Camelford,) when people pegin to study potany, and that is the reason De Willows thinks so much apout it himself; for I heard him in his sleep call out, that he must die, unless some palm could be tiscovered to heal the wound in his heart, which was as pig as a parn door."

De Willows called him an incorrigible miscreant for betraying the secrets he pilfered from his friend, and vowed to be revenged in his own way. This little sally gave an enlivening turn to the conversation, but it was not possible that a party, circumstanced as the present, should be able to converse on any subject but that in which every heart was interested: it had even bereaved father Anselm and the abbess of many tears.

Sir Philip de Morney avowed that the gentle and benevolent virtues of his children made him blush at the failure of them in himself. The Baron still shed tears, but they were tears more calculated to provoke envy than excite compassion. He embraced his son again and again, led him to Roseline, and entreated she would make the youth her captive for life, and bestow on him the only treasure which could reward him for his long confinement and uncomplaining fortitude. He called upon Sir Philip to accept him for a brother instead of a son, saying, as he should now certainly never think of marrying again, the settlements, with a few alterations, might stand as they did. This proposal was too agreeable to meet with any opposition. Upon Albert the Baron proposed settling an annuity that would enable him to live in a stile equal to that of the most respectable country gentleman; but this good man instantly declined accepting the generous offer, declaring, that if they compelled him to leave his dear young lord, and deprived him of the pleasure of attending him, life would lose its value, and he should pine away the remainder of his days in discontent and misery, though he were possessed of the most unbounded affluence.

"And I, (said Walter,) though blessed with my gentle and lovely Roseline, should appear despicable in her eyes, and contemptible in my own, could I ever consent that my preserver, friend, and preceptor, should live under any roof but mine. I hope and trust he will permit me to repay to his declining age the mighty debt I owe him for his tender care, his unceasing attentions to my helpless and persecuted youth."

Albert burst into tears, and, suddenly throwing himself at the feet of Walter, found, in the eager and cordial embrace with which he raised him, an ample reward for his long tried fidelity.

Edeliza, Bertha, and their youthful companions, were no longer able to confine their joy in silence. Bertha crept to the side of Walter, and looked at him with an expression of countenance so good humoured and arch, that he took her on his knee, and inquired if she would give him leave to be her brother.

"That I will! (said she.) – You are so tall and handsome, and by seeing you I have found why my sister Roseline shed so many tears, had so many fainting fits, and went about without singing the pretty songs she used to do; – it was all owing to you; – therefore you must be very good, and very entertaining, to make her love you better than she does Edeliza, brother Edwin, or myself."