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 BY THE AUTHOR OP "TEN THOUSAND A-YEAK." 
 
 BOSTON: 
 BRAINARD & CO., 13 COURT STREET. 
 NEW YORK, M. T. BEACH, ahd GRAHAM ft CHRISTY. 
 BANGOR, ME., DAVID BUGBEE. 
 
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A ,i^^ .1,: 
 
 THE DESTROYER; 
 
 A TALE OE 
 
 GUILT AND SORROW. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF "TEN THOUSAND A-YEAR." 
 
 "Terribly beautiful the serpent lay, 
 Wreathed like a coronet of gold and jewels 
 Fit for a tyrant's brow; anon he flew — " 
 
 BOSTON : 
 
 BRAINARD &, CO., 22 COURT STREET. 
 
^UHHtli 
 
 ./r«- ^y- 
 
^55 
 
 Introductory — To the Fair and Innocent Reader. 
 
 Chapter I. — The Heroine. 
 
 Chapter II. — My First Call. 
 
 Chapter III. — The Departure — Captain Alverley. 
 
 Chapter IV. — A London Season — Danger. 
 
 Chapter V. — The Destroyer. 
 
 Chapter VI — A Sick Child — the Mother at the Opera. 
 
 Chapter VII. — The Elopement. 
 
 Chapter VIII. — The Husband and the Children. 
 
 Chapter IX. — Plans — but what next ? 
 
 Chapter X. — The Challenge. 
 
 Chapter XL — The Duel. 
 
 Chapter XII. — The Destroyer and his victim. Conclu- 
 
 sion. 
 
 o;^i 
 
FAIR AND INNOCENT READER : 
 
 How many, many thousands of you will read this narra- 
 tive with beating and indignant hearts ! Shrink not from 
 its sad, its faithful details ; consider them, if it be not pre- 
 sumptuously spoken, in somewhat of that spirit in which 
 you ponder the mournful history of Eve and Eden : of her, 
 our first mother, who weakly hstening to the serpent tempter, 
 was ignominiously thrust out of her bright abode, degraded 
 from her blessed estate, and entailed innumerable ills upon 
 her hapless progeny ! 
 
 AVith kindly and fervent feeling, my conscience bearing 
 testimony to the purity of my intentions, have I drawn up, 
 and now thus commend to you : to readers, indeed, of both 
 sexes, and of all classes of society, this narrative of a late 
 Physician : of one who, could his eye detect among you 
 one whose trembUng foot was uplifted to deviate from the 
 path of honor and of virtue, Avould whisper, amidst his re- 
 luctant adieus — Beware! 
 
 j' 
 
THE DESTROYER. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE HEROINE 
 
 Mrs. St. Helen, a young, a fond, 
 and beautiful mother, having, one 
 morning in June, 18 — , observed a 
 faint flush on the forehead of her in- 
 fant son, — her first-born and only 
 child, and ascertained from the nur- 
 sery-maid that he had been rather 
 restless during the night, persuaded 
 herself and her husband that matters 
 were serious enough to require imme- 
 diate medical assistance from London. 
 The worthy Colonel, therefore, order- 
 ed his phaiton to be at the door by 
 ten o'clock ; and having been scarce- 
 ly allowed by his anxious wife to swal- 
 low a cup of coffee and finish his egg, 
 presently jumped into his vehicle and 
 dashed off almost as rapidly as Mrs. 
 St. Helen, who remained standing on 
 the steps, could have wished. Though 
 the distance was nearly nine miles, he 
 reached my house by a little after 
 eleven, and was at once shown into 
 my room, where I was arranging my 
 list of daily visits. It seemed clear, 
 from his hurried statement, that his 
 little son and heir was about to en- 
 counter the perils of scarlet fever or 
 measles, at the very least ; and such 
 were his importunities, that though I 
 had several special engagements for 
 
 the early part of the day, I was in- 
 duced, at his suggestion, to put two 
 hacks to my carriage, and drive down 
 to Densleigh Grange, accompanied 
 by the Colonel, who ordered his ser- 
 vant to remain in town till the horses 
 had been rested. 
 
 This was the first time that my pro- 
 fessional services had been required 
 in Colonel St. Helen's family — in 
 fact, I had never been at Densleigh, 
 though, previous to their marriage, I 
 had been rather intimately acquainted 
 with Mrs. St. Helen. We had never 
 once met, even since the day of her 
 marriage, three years ago. When I 
 last saw her — upon that happy occa- 
 sion — I thought her certainly one of 
 the loveliest young women the eye 
 could look upon. I really think her 
 person and manners were the most 
 fascinating I ever witnessed. When 
 first I saw her she was only seventeen, 
 and dressed in the deepest mourning, 
 for her fatlicr, the Honorable Mr. An- 
 nesley, a beneficed clergyman in the 
 west of England, had recently died, 
 leaving her to the care of his brother, 
 the Earl of Hetlieringham, whose fa- 
 mily I wag then attending. Her mo- 
 ther had died about a year after giving 
 
6 
 
 THE DESTROYER. 
 
 birtli to tliis her first and only child ; 
 and licr father left nothiii!! behind him 
 but his daiitrhter — and his debts. 
 Tlic former he bequeathed, as I have 
 already intimated, to his brother, who 
 accepted the cliarffc with a very un- 
 gracious air. He was a cold, proud 
 man — qualities, however, in which 
 his Countess excelled him — by no 
 means rich, except in children ; of 
 whom he had three sons and five 
 dauo^htcr?, who instantly recognised 
 in their beautiful cousin a most for- 
 midable competitor for the notice of 
 society. And they were right. The 
 form of her features was worthy of 
 the rich commingled expression of 
 sweetness, spirit, and intellect that 
 beamed in them. What passion shone 
 out pf her dark, blue eyes ! Her fig- 
 ure, too, was well proportioned and 
 graceful, just budding out into wo- 
 manhood. She was sitting, when I 
 first saw her, at a little rosewood ta- 
 ble, near the Countess, in her boudoir 
 — one hand himg down with a pen 
 in it, while the other supported her 
 forehead, from which her fingers were 
 pressing aside her auburn hair — evi- 
 dently in a musing mood, which my 
 sudden entrance through the door al- 
 ready standing wide open, put an end 
 to " You need not go," said the 
 Counless coldly, seeing her hastily 
 preparing to shut up her little desk ; 
 "my niece — Miss Annesley, Doc- 
 tor ! " I knew the Countess, her 
 character, and circumstaiicep, well ; 
 this ex(|uisite girl, her niece, and she 
 with five daughter to dispose of! — 
 Miss Annesley, after slightly acknow- 
 ledging my salutation, resumed lirr 
 seat and pen. I could hardly keep 
 my eyes away from her. If she looks 
 so lovely n''>w, in spite of this gloomy 
 dress, thought I, what must she be 
 when she resumes the garb of youth- 
 ful gaiety and elegance! Ah, Coun- 
 tess, you may well trend)le for your 
 <1 Migliters, if this jjirl is to appear 
 among them. " You see. Doctor," 
 
 continued the Counless, in a matter- 
 of-fact manner, while these thoughts 
 glanced through my mind — " we are 
 all thrown into sables through the 
 death of the Earl's brother, Mr. An- 
 nc.>ley." 
 
 " Indeed ! " I interrupted, with a 
 look of sympathy towards her niece, 
 who sjjread her hand over her eyes, 
 while the pen that was in the other 
 slightly quivered. " This young lady 
 is, in fact, all mypoor brother-in-law 
 left behind him; and" (adding in a 
 lower tone) " she now forms one of 
 our little family ! " I felt infinitely 
 hurt at the scarce-concealed sneer 
 with which she uttered the word ' lit- 
 tle.' Poor Miss Annesley, I feared, 
 had perceived it; for, after evidently 
 struggling ineffectually to conceal her 
 emotiiuis, she rose and stepped ab- 
 ruptly towards the door. 
 
 " You'll find your cousins in the 
 drawing-room," love! go and sit with 
 them," said the Countess, endeavor- 
 ing to speak affectionately. " Poor 
 thing ! " she continued, as soon ns 
 Miss Annesley had closed the door, 
 after which I fancied I heard her run 
 rapidly up stairs — doubtless to weep 
 alone in her own room — " her father 
 has not been dead more than a fort- 
 night, and she feels it acutely ! — 
 shockingly involved, my dear Doctor 
 — over head and ears in debt ! — 
 you've no idea how it annoys the 
 Earl! My niece is perfectly penny- 
 less! Literally, we were obliged to 
 provide the poor thing with mourn- 
 ing ! I insisted on the Earl's making 
 her one of our family;" — a great 
 fdschood, as I subesquently discov- 
 ered, for she had suggesteil and urged 
 sending her aliroad to a nunnery, 
 which, iiowevcr inclined to do, he 
 dared not for appearances' sake. — 
 " She'll be a companion for my 
 voutiocr daughters, though she's quite 
 countryfied at present — don'^ you 
 think so ?" 
 
 " Pardon me, my dear Countess — 
 
THE DESTROYER. 
 
 she struck me as extremely elegant 
 and beautiful," I answered, with suf- 
 ficient want of tact. 
 
 "Rather pretty, certainly — she's 
 only seventeen, poor thing," drawled 
 the Countess, immediately changing 
 the subject. 
 
 I could not help feeling nnich in- 
 terest in the poor girl, thrust thus, in 
 the first agonies of her grievous be- 
 reavement, into a soil and atmosphere 
 ungenial and even noxious — into a 
 family that at once disliked and 
 dreaded her. What a life seemed 
 before her ! But, I reflected, the 
 conflict may be painful, it cannot be 
 long. Lady Hetheringham cannot 
 utterly exclude her niece from socie- 
 ty ; and there, once seen, she must 
 triumph. And so, indeed, it hap- 
 pened ; for in less than six months 
 after the period of her arrival at her 
 uncle's, she began to go out freely 
 into society with his family ; it hav- 
 ing been considered by her prudent 
 and affectionate relatives, that the 
 sooner this young creature could be 
 got off their hands the better. The 
 Earl and his Countess, indeed, began 
 to feel some apprehensions now and 
 then lest one of their niece's male 
 cousins — the eldest, possibly, might 
 feel rather more attachment towards 
 her than mere relationship required. 
 She was directed, therefore, to apply 
 herself diligently to ihe completion of 
 her education, in which she had al- 
 ready made rapid progress, which, 
 together with her natural talents, soon 
 rendered her independent of the fash- 
 ionable instructors who taught her 
 cousins. Miss Annesley was, in 
 trutli, a creature of much enthusiasm 
 of character ; of a generous and con- 
 fiding nature, a sanguine tempera- 
 ment — fond withal of admiration, 
 as w lo is not of either sex? She 
 felt in her element in the glittering 
 society in which she now ince.'isantly 
 appeared, or rather into which she 
 was forced. She breathed freely, for 
 
 glorious was the contrast it affxirded 
 to the chilling, withering restraint 
 and coldness that ever awaited her at 
 her uncle's. There she but too sor- 
 rowfully felt herself an intruder — 
 that her uncle and aunt were stirring 
 heaven and earth to get rid of her. 
 Many a bitter hour did she pass alone 
 when she reflected upon this, and 
 saw no course open to her but to se- 
 cond the exertions of iier heartless 
 relatives, and be emancipated from 
 the bitter thraldom by almost any one 
 who chose to make the attempt. Her 
 anxieties on this score laid her open 
 to the imputation of being little more 
 than a brilliant flirt or coquette, than 
 which certainly nothing could be 
 more distant iVom the wishes or re- 
 pugnant to the feelings of poor Miss 
 Armesley. She saw that her uncle 
 and aunt could have encouraged the 
 advances of any one that seemed 
 likely to propose for a beautiful but 
 penniless orphan, and was almost dis- 
 posed to gratify them. What sort of 
 life would not be preferable to that of 
 her present bitter dependence 1 Alas, 
 how generous, how noble a heart was 
 thus trifled with — was thus endang- 
 ered, if not even directly betrayed, 
 by those whose sacred duty it was, 
 whose pride and delight it should 
 have been, to regard and cherish it! 
 Hov.'ever pure, however high-minded, 
 a girl of Miss Annesley's youth and 
 inexperience, of her eager and fer- 
 vent temper and character, could not 
 but be exposed to imminent danger, 
 when thrust thus into such scenes as 
 are afforded by the fashionable socie- 
 ty of the metropolis. Poor Emma ! 
 No eye of zealous and vigilant affec- 
 tion followed thee when wandering 
 through these dazzling mazes of dis- 
 sipation and of danger ! Anxious, 
 however, as were Lord and Lady 
 Hetheringham to get rid of their 
 lovely charge, their efforts were un- 
 successful. Two seasons passed over, 
 and their niece, though the admired 
 
8 
 
 THE DESTROYER 
 
 of all beholders, uUerly eclipsing her 
 iinpntieut and envious cousins, seem- 
 ed unlikely to form an alliance, wlie- 
 llier owing to the incessant and wide- 
 ly prop;ig!iled sneers and injurious 
 falsehoods of her five rivals, the ill- 
 dis;ruised coldness and dislike of the 
 Eurl and Countess, or, above all, to 
 lier want of fortune. Many who ad- 
 mire<I her, and felt disposed to pay 
 Jier decisive attentions, were deterred 
 by the fear that a young woman, of 
 her family, station, beauty and ac- 
 complishments, was an object far be- 
 yond their reach ; while others sighed, 
 
 '• Sighed and looked, sighed and looked, and 
 sighed again ; " 
 
 and feared, that if she brought her 
 husband no fortune, she nevertheless 
 was perfectly able and disposed to 
 spend his. Conquests, in the ordi- 
 nary phrase, she made innumerable, 
 and was several times mentioned in 
 the newspapers a.s " likely to be led 
 
 to the hymeneal altar " by Lord , 
 
 Sir , the Honorable Mr. , 
 
 and so forth. As far, indeed, as ap- 
 pearances went, there was some 
 ground for each of these rumors. Miss 
 Anneslcy had many followers, most 
 of whom were sufliciently gratified 
 by havinrr their names associated in 
 fashionable rumor with that of so dis- 
 tinguished a beauty. The only one, 
 however, of all these trifierswho over 
 established anything like an interest 
 in her he irt, was the elegant and well 
 known Alverley ; a man whose fasci- 
 nating a[)pearance and manners FOon 
 distanced the pretensions of all those 
 who ain)cd at an object he had se- 
 lected. Alverley was, when he chose, 
 irresistible. Ho could inspire the 
 woman he sought with a conviction 
 that he loved her passionately, throw- 
 ing a fervor and devotion into his 
 manner which few, very few women, 
 and no young woman, could resist. 
 Poor Miss Annesley fancied that this 
 envied prize was hers ; that he was 
 
 destined to be led " a graceful cap- 
 tive at her chariot-wheels;" that he 
 was the gallant knight who was to de- 
 liver her from bondage. Here, too, 
 however, she was destined to meet 
 with disappointment; the distinguish- 
 ed Alverley disappeared from among 
 the throng of her admirers quite sud- 
 denly ; the fact being, that in a con- 
 fidential conversation with one of her 
 cousins, in a quadrille, he had be- 
 come satisfied that it was undesirable 
 for him to prosecute any farther his 
 disinterested attentions in that quar- 
 ter. Miss Annesley felt his defection 
 more keenly than that of any other of 
 her transient admirers. Her eager 
 feelings, her inexperienced heart, 
 would not permit her to see how ut- 
 terly unworthy was one who could 
 act thus, of even a moment's regret. 
 Alas! her bright spirit had not fair 
 play ! His graceful person, his hand- 
 some and expressive features, his fas- 
 cinating manners, could not so easily 
 be banished from her young heart; 
 and her grief and mortification were 
 but little assuaged, perhaps, however, 
 her v/ounded pride might be soothed, 
 by the intimation Alverley contrived 
 to have conveyed to her, from several 
 quarters, that her regrets fell infinite- 
 ly short of the poignancy of his own, 
 in being compelled by others, on 
 whom his all depended, to abandon 
 the dearest hopes he had ever cher- 
 ished. 
 
 Thus it was that Miss Annesley and 
 her heartless and selfish relatives be- 
 held two seasons pass away without 
 any prospect of their being perma- 
 nently released from one another's 
 presence and society: an infinite gra- 
 tification did the pfior irirl experience 
 in being invited to spend the autumn 
 of 18 — with a distant relative of La- 
 dy Hctheringham's, in a remote part 
 of England. This lady was the wi- 
 dow of a general officer, and during 
 her stay in town that season had 
 formed an attachment towards Miss 
 
THE DESTROYER. 
 
 Annesley, whose painful position in 
 the Earl's family she soon ])erceived 
 and compassionated ; therefore it was 
 that her invitation had been given, 
 and she felt delighted at securing the 
 society of her young and brilliant 
 guest during the tedious autumn and 
 winter months. 
 
 Miss Annesley proved herself to 
 be possessed of a warm and affec- 
 tionate heart, in addition to beauty 
 and accomplishments, and every day 
 increased the attachment between 
 them. These six months were the 
 happiest Miss Annesley had ever 
 known. Before returning to town, 
 an event she dreaded, a very eligible 
 offer of marriage was made to her by 
 a relative of her hostess, who hap- 
 pened to be quartered with his regi- 
 ment in her immediate neighborhood. 
 Major St. Helen. He was an amia- 
 ble, high-spirited man, of excellent 
 family, in easy circumstances, and 
 with considerable expectations. His 
 features, though not handsome, were 
 manly and expressive ; his figure was 
 tall and commanding, his manners 
 frank, his disposition affectionate ; — 
 his suit was supported by Miss An- 
 
 nesley's kind liostess, and before her 
 returning to town, he gained the pro- 
 mise of her hand. The more, in- 
 deed, she knew of him, and learned 
 of his character, the more confidently 
 she committed herself to him ; she 
 became sincerely and affectionately 
 attached to him, who loved her so 
 evidently with fervor and enthusiasm. 
 In about a twelvemonth's time she 
 was married to him — in her twenti- 
 eth year, he being about ten years 
 her senior, from the Earl of Hether- 
 ingham's. J was present, and never 
 saw a lovelier bride; how distinctly, 
 even at this distance of time, is her 
 figure before my mind's eye ! As the 
 uncle, who felt as if a thorn had at 
 length been plucked out of his side, 
 led her down to the travelling car- 
 riage that was in readiness to convey 
 them away, I was one of the last to 
 whisper a hasty benison into the ear 
 of the trembling blushing girl. Gra- 
 cious Heaven! could either of us at 
 that moment have lifted the veil of 
 futurity, and foreseen her becoming 
 the subject of this melancholy and 
 dreadful history ! 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 MY FIRST CALL 
 
 AnouT three years afterwards was 
 born (he little patient I was now on 
 my way to visit. During this consid- 
 erable interval I had almost lost sight 
 of them ; for Major, since become 
 Colonel St. Helen, after a year's tra- 
 vel on the continent, purchased the 
 delightful residence to which we were 
 so hastily driving, and where their 
 little son and heir was born. Here 
 they lived in delightful retirement — 
 only occasionally, and for very short 
 periods, visiting the metropolis ; the 
 chief reason being Mrs. St. Helen's 
 reluctance to renew her intercourse 
 with Lord and Lady Hetheringham, 
 or any member of their family. It 
 was evident from our conversation, as 
 we drove down, that their attachment 
 towards each other continued unabat- 
 ed. The only drawback upon their 
 happiness was a fear tliat he might 
 be, ere long, summoned upon foreign 
 service. When within about a mile 
 of Densleigh, our conversation, as if 
 by common consent, dropped, and we 
 leaned back in the corners of the car- 
 riage in silence ; he, doul)tlcss, occu- 
 pied with anxieties about his little 
 son, and the probable state of matters 
 he should meet on reaching home; I 
 sinking into a reverie upon past times. 
 I was anxious to .see again one in 
 whom I had formerly felt such inter- 
 est, and fell happy at her good for- 
 tune, not oidy in escaping the dan- 
 gers to which she had been exposed, 
 but in making so happy a marriage. 
 
 " Heavens ! " exclaimed the Colo 
 nel, suddenly, who had been for the 
 last few minutes incessantly pulling 
 
 his head out of the window — " look 
 — they are " — his keen eye had dis- 
 covered two female figures stat)ding 
 at the outer gate opening upon the 
 high road — "Drive on, coachman, 
 for God's sake ! " 
 
 "Don't alarm yourself, Colonel," 
 said I ; adding, as we drew near 
 enough to distinguish one of the fig- 
 ures pushing open the gate, and step- 
 ping into the road towards us — " for 
 one of them can be no other than 
 Mrs. St Helen ; and the other is her 
 maid, with my little patient in her 
 arms — i)ositively ! Ha, ha, Colonel ! 
 That looks very much like scarlet fe- 
 ver or measles." 
 
 " Certainly you are right," replied 
 the Colonel, with a sigh that seemed 
 to let off all his anxiety. That is my 
 wife indeed, and the child; there can 
 be no mistake — but how can they 
 think of venturing out till, at all 
 events, they are " — 
 
 Though I was, at the moment, ra- 
 tiier vexed at having come so far, at 
 such inconvenience, too, I soon made- 
 up my mind to it, and felt glad at the 
 o])porlunity of seeing how the beau- 
 tiful Miss Annesley would show in 
 the character of Mrs. St. Helen — a 
 mother. 
 
 " You nmst give these poor beasts 
 a little refreshment. Colonel, before 
 I can take them back, and me a lit- 
 tle luncheon," said I, with a smile, 
 looking at my watch. 
 
 " Certainly — oh, of course ! For- 
 give me, <lear Doctor, for having been 
 so nervous and precipitate. But you 
 are a falher yourself. 'Tis all my 
 
THE DESTROYER. 
 
 11 
 
 wife's fault, I can assure you, and I 
 shall tell her she must make the apol- 
 ogy due for bringing you down from 
 London for nothing. The fact is, 
 that / never thought there was any- 
 thing the matter with the child; — 
 which was, I thouglu, a very great 
 mistake of the Colonel's. 
 
 " I assure you I am infinitely bet- 
 ter pleased to have the opportunity of 
 seeing Mrs. St. Helen again, and in 
 health and spirits, than to see her 
 plunged into distress by the illness of 
 her child — so pray say no more 
 about it." 
 
 As we approached, Mrs. St. Helen 
 hastily gave her parasol into the hands 
 of the maid, from whose arms she 
 snatched the child, and walked quick- 
 ly up to the carriage door, as we 
 drew up. For a moment T quite for- 
 got the errand on which I had come, 
 as close before me stood the Emma 
 Annesleyof a former day, a thousand 
 times more lovely to my eye than I 
 had ever seen her. She wore a white 
 loose bonnet, of transparent white 
 crape, and her shawl, which had been 
 displaced in the hurry of seizing the 
 child, hung with graceful negligence 
 over her shoulders, to infinite advan- 
 tage, displaying a figure of ripening 
 womanhood : the young mother, proud 
 of the beautiful infant she bore in her 
 arms — her Expressive features full of 
 animation ; altogether she struck me 
 as a fit subject for one of those airy 
 and exquisite sketches with which Sir 
 Thomas Lawrence was then occa- 
 sionally delighting the world. 
 
 "Oh, Doctor ," she com- 
 menced, in the same rich voice I so 
 well remembered, holding out one of 
 her hands to me as I descended the 
 carriage steps — "I am so delighted 
 to see you again ; but really," looking 
 at her husband, " Arthur did so fright- 
 en me about the child, and I am not 
 a wery experienced mother ; but I sup- 
 pose it's the same with all fathers — 
 alarmed at such trifles" — 
 
 "Really, Emma, this is capital," 
 interrupted the Colonel, half piqued 
 and half pleased, while I could not 
 help laughing at them both, " so it 
 was / — but who was it, Emma, that 
 came rushing into my dressing room 
 this morning, her hair half en papil- 
 lote ? " 
 
 " Arthur, don't be absurd; there's 
 no need." 
 
 " Well, I forgive you ! It was all 
 my fault; but, thank God, here's the 
 young hero, seemingly as well as ever 
 he was in his life: many, many hap- 
 py returns." 
 
 " 'Tis his birth-day, Doctor," in- 
 terrupted Mrs. St. Helen, eagerly, 
 with a sweet smile. 
 
 The Colonel took the child out of 
 his mother's arms and kissed him 
 heartily. "But what apology can we 
 make, Emma, to Doctor 1" 
 
 "Oh, don't say a syllable. I am 
 sincerely glad that I have come, and 
 more so, that there was not the neces- 
 sity for it you supposed. My dear Mrs. 
 St. Helen, how glad I am to see you," 
 I continued, as she took my arm, the 
 Colonel proceeding on with the child 
 in his arms, who seemed, however, 
 anxious to get back to his nurse. " I 
 have often thought of you, and won- 
 dered where you had hid yourselves. 
 But before we talk of past times, let 
 me hear what it was that so alarmed 
 you about that sweet little child? " 
 
 "Oh — why, I suspect it's all my 
 fault, Doctor — I was very foolish; 
 but we do so love him that we are afraid 
 of the least thing. He's so beautiful 
 that T fear we shall lose him ; he's 
 too good; we should be too happy." 
 
 " All mothers, Mrs. St. Helen, say 
 that; but I want to hear whether we 
 are right in dismissing all anxiety 
 about tlie appearances that so alarm- 
 ed you this morning." 
 
 "I'm quite ashamed of it. It was 
 evidently n(»thing but a little redness 
 on his forehead, which was occasion- 
 ed, no doubt, by the pressure of the 
 
12 
 
 THE DESTROYER. 
 
 pillow, and it quite disappeared be- 
 fore the colonel had been gone half 
 an hour ; and the nurse did not tell 
 me till afterwards ; and we had no man 
 here at the lime to ride after the co- 
 lonel ; and so " pushing about the end 
 of her parasol upon the grass, and 
 lookinif down, as we slowly followed 
 the colonel towards the house. I 
 laughed heartily at the kind of sheep- 
 ish air with which she confessed the 
 slight occasion there hud been for her 
 
 o ... 
 
 alarm. She began again to apologise : 
 
 " Pho, pho, my dear Mrs. St. Helen, 
 this has happened to me more than a 
 hundred times; but never when I less 
 regretted it than I do now. 1 have had 
 a delightful drive, and I have seen 
 you looking so well and happy ; you 
 cannot think how rejoiced I am on 
 your account. What a contrast is 
 your present life to that you led at the 
 Earl of Iletheringham's ! You must 
 be as happy as the day is long." 
 
 " And so indeed I am ! I never 
 never knew what real happiness was, 
 till I knew Colonel Si. Helen ! We 
 liave never had a difference yet. He 
 worships the very ground " — She 
 paused, hung her Jiead, and her eyes 
 filled with tears. 
 
 *' He looks quite the soldier," said 
 I, glancing at his tall and erect figure. 
 
 " Oh, yes, and he is! He has the 
 noblest disposition in the world ! so 
 generous, and as simple as the little 
 creature that he carries. You would 
 hardly think him the same man when 
 he is at home, that at the head of his 
 regiment looks so cold, and stern and 
 formal. And he is brave as" — her 
 beautiful features were turned to- 
 wards me, flushed with excitement. 
 " Do you know he's been in three en- 
 gagements, and I have heard from se- 
 veral officers that he is one of the 
 most desperate and fearless " — 
 
 " Ah, yj)u recollect those beautful 
 jines, Mrs. St. Helen," said I : 
 
 "■ The warrior's heart wl»en touched by me. 
 Can as downy, soft and yielding be, 
 
 As his own white plume that high amicF 
 
 death, 
 Tluoufjh the field has shone, yet moves with 
 
 a breath 1 " 
 
 Her eyes were fixed intently on me 
 while I repeated these lines, filled with 
 tears as I concluded, and she spoke 
 not. " Where are these lines ? " she 
 began at length; but ashamed of her 
 yet unsubdued emotion, she quickly 
 turned aside her head, and left the 
 sentence unfinished. Her little do<r 
 that came scampering down toward* 
 us happily turned her thoughts. 
 
 " How very, very ridiculous ! " she 
 exclaimed, half laughing, half crying, 
 pointing to a light blue ribbon tied 
 round the dog's neck, in a large knot 
 or bow, the little animal now frisking 
 merrily about her, and then rolling 
 about on the grass, evidently not 
 knowing what to make of his gay 
 collar. "The fact is, Doctor, that 
 this being our little boy's first birth- 
 day, my maid has determined that 
 even the dog — Down,«Fan ! down! 
 you little impudent creature; go and 
 run after your young master ; " and 
 away bounded Fan, leaving us once 
 more alone. 
 
 " When did you hear of the Heth- 
 eringhams last ? " 
 
 "Oh, by the way," she answered 
 eagerly, "only a day^or two ago. 
 And what do you think? Did you 
 read that account of the elopement in 
 the papers with such numbers of stars 
 and initials ?" 
 
 " Certainly I recollect ; but whom 
 do they mean ? " 
 
 " My fair proud cousin, Anne Sed- 
 ley, and the youngest officer in Ar- 
 thur's regiment. Who would have 
 thought it ! She was always the most 
 unkind of any of them towards me ; 
 but I am not the less sorry for her. 
 Nothing but misery can come of arj 
 elopement ; and how they arc to live 
 1 do not know, for neither of them 
 has anything." 
 
 " You see very little of the Earl 
 
THE DESTROYER. 
 
 13 
 
 and Countess, or your cousins, I sup- 
 pose, now 1 ■' 
 
 " We have scarcely met since we 
 were married, and we don't regret it. 
 Arthur does not like any of them, for 
 I could not help telling him how they 
 had treated me ; and, besides, we see 
 nobody, nor do we wish, for we are 
 not yet tired of each other, and have 
 plenty to d.» at home of one kind or 
 another. In fact, we have only one 
 thing that distresses us, a fear lest the 
 Colonel may be ordered to join his 
 regiment and go abroad. Oh ! we 
 tremble at the thought, at least I am 
 sure that I do; especially if it should 
 happen before November," she added 
 faintly coloring I understood her de- 
 licate intimation that she bade fair to 
 become again a mother and told her so. 
 " What should I do, in my situation, 
 all alone here: my husband gone, per- 
 haps, never to return. 1 assure you 
 it often makes me very sad indeed ; 
 but here he comes." 
 
 "Why, Emma! How serious! Pos- 
 itively in tears ! What, have you been 
 
 regrttting to Doctor that you 
 
 have not got a patient for him 1 " 
 
 " No, dearest Arthur; the fact is 
 we have been talking overpast times! 
 I was telling him how happy we were 
 in our solitude here " — 
 
 " But, 1 dare say Doctor , with 
 
 myself," said the Colonel, quickly, ob- 
 serving Mrs. St. Helen not yet to have 
 entirely recovered from her emotion, 
 " will not think the worse of Dens- 
 leigh when we've had a little lunch." 
 
 " Well, I'll rejoin you in a few 
 minutes," interrupted Mrs. St. Helen, 
 turning from us. 
 
 " Aha," said the Colonel, as he led 
 me into the room where lunch was 
 spread ; " she's gone to look after 
 Master St. Helen's dinner, I suppose : 
 we shan't see her this quarter of an 
 hour ! He must never eat a mouthful 
 without her seeing it ! We won't 
 
 wait, Doctor ," and we sat down, 
 
 for I had really not much time to 
 
 lose. Denslcigh certainly was a de- 
 lightful residence — happily situated, 
 and laid out with much taste and ele- 
 gance. The room in which we were 
 sitting at lunch opened upon a soft 
 green, sloping down to the banks of 
 a pleasant stream, and commanded an 
 extensive prospect, of which Mrs. St. 
 Helen had recently completed a very 
 beautiful uater-color sketch, which 
 was suspended near where I sat. 
 
 " You must come some day, doctor, 
 and see Emma's port-feuille — for she 
 really draws very beautifully. I'll 
 try to get a sight of the picture she 
 has nearly finished of our little Ar- 
 thur — by Heaven, 'tis perfection! " 
 
 Here Mrs. St. Helen made her ap- 
 pearance ; Master St. Helen had made 
 a very hearty dinner, and Emma was 
 again in high spirits, and I persuaded 
 her to take a glass of wine with me, 
 but not to give me a sight of the mys- 
 teries which the Colonel had spoken 
 of She would not for the world let 
 me see her half-finished daubs, and so 
 forth ; and as for the others she would 
 show them all to me the next time I 
 came, &,c. &;-c. All lady-artists are 
 alike, so I did not press the matter. 
 A pleasant hour I passed at Densleigh 
 — thinking where was happiness to be 
 found, if not there! I was not al- 
 lowed to leave before I had premised, 
 never to come within a mile or two 
 without calling upon them. They at« 
 tended me to the door, where were 
 drawn up my carriage and the pony 
 phaeton of Mrs. St. Helen,.wiih two 
 beautiful little greys, which also were 
 bedight with the light blue ribbons. 
 Master St. Helen and his maid were 
 already seated in it, and I saw that 
 Mrs. St. Helen longed to join them. 
 Ah, you ore a happy woman, thought 
 I, as 1 drove off; you ought indeed to 
 feel gratefid to Heaven for having 
 cast your let in pleasant places. Long 
 may you live, the pride cf your hus- 
 band — mother, it may be, of a lace 
 of heroes ! 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE DEI'ARTUnr, . CAPTAIN ALVERLEV. 
 
 About six months nfterwards, my 
 eye lit upon the following announce- 
 ment in one of the newspapers : — 
 " On the 2d instant, at Densleigh 
 Grange, the lady of Colonel St. Helen 
 of a son." I discovered, upon inquiry, 
 that both mother and child were doing 
 well, although the event so dreaded 
 by Mrs. St. Helen had come to pass, 
 and very greatly affected her spirits ; 
 the Colonel was ordered, with his reg- 
 iment, upon foreign service. She had 
 nearly succeeded in persuading him 
 to quit the army; and it required all 
 the influence of his most experienced 
 personal friends, as well as a tolera- 
 bly distinct intimation of opinion from 
 the Royal Commander-in-Chief at the 
 Horse Guards, to prevent him from 
 yielding to her entreaties. His desti- 
 nation was India ; and with a heavy 
 heart, six weeks before her accouche- 
 ment took place, he bade her adieu, 
 feeling that, too probably, it was for 
 ever I He could not, however, tear 
 Itimself away ; twice did he return 
 suddenly and unexpectedly to Dens- 
 leigh, after having taken, as he had 
 thought, a final farewell. She insist- 
 ed on retinning with him to London, 
 and witnessing his departure. When 
 it had taken place, she returned to 
 Densleigh, and for awhile gave her- 
 self up to the most violent emotions 
 of grief Dreading the consetpiences 
 to her, in her critical circumstances, 
 Mr. Ogilvie, the sister of Colonel St. 
 Helen, came down to Densleigh, and 
 succeeded in bringing Mrs. St. Helen 
 up to town with her, hoping that a 
 change of scene and the jjaicties of 
 
 the metropolis might aid in recruiting 
 her agitated spirits, and thereby pre- 
 pare her for the trial she had so soon 
 to undergo. She had not been long 
 in London before she prevailed upon 
 Mrs. Ogilvie to drive with her to the 
 Horse-Guards, and endeavor, if pos- 
 sible, to gain some intelligence as to 
 the probable duration of her husband's 
 absence, and of the nature of the ser- 
 vice in which he was to be employed. 
 Her heart almost failed her when the 
 carriage drew up at the Horse-Guards. 
 With some trepidation she gave the 
 servant a card bearing her name, on 
 which she had written a few lines 
 stating the inquiry she had called to 
 make, and desired him to take and 
 wait with it for an answer. " His 
 Royal Highness will send to you, 
 Ma'am, in a few moments," said the 
 servant, on his return. Presently an 
 officer in splendid uniform was seen 
 approaching the carriage ; he was an 
 aide-de-camp of the Commander-in- 
 Chief, and Mrs. St. Helen, with some 
 additional agitation, recognized in 
 him, as he stood before her, Captain 
 Alverlev. To her indeed it was a most 
 unexpected meeting ; and he seemed 
 not free from embarrassment. 
 
 " His Royal Highness has directed 
 me to inform vou, ' said he, bowing 
 politely, " that he regrets being una- 
 ble to receive you, as he is now en- 
 gaged with important business. He 
 also directs me to say, in answer to 
 your inquiry, that Colonel St. Helen's 
 stay will probably not exceed three 
 years." While he was yet speaking 
 Mrs. St. Helen, overcome with agita- 
 
THE DESTROYER. 
 
 15 
 
 tioTi, hastily bowed to him, ordered 
 the coachman to drive on, and sunk 
 back on lier seat exhausted. 
 
 " Emma ! Emma ! what can you 
 mean?" exclaimed Mrs. Ogilvie with 
 mucli displeasure ; " I never saw sucfi 
 rudeness ! Yes," looking back towards 
 the IIorse-Guards, " he may well be 
 astonished ! I declare he is still stand- 
 ing thunder-struck at your most ex- 
 traordinary behavior ! " 
 
 "I — J cannot help it," murmured 
 Mrs. St. Helen faintly, " I thought I 
 should have fainted. He so reminded 
 me of Arthur ; and, did you observe," 
 she continued, sobbing, "nothing was 
 said about the nature of the service ! 
 Oh, I am sure I shall never see him 
 again ! I wish, I wish, I had not 
 called at the odious place — I might 
 have then hoped ! " A long drive, 
 however, through a cheerful part of 
 the suburbs, at length somewhat re- 
 lieved her oppression ; but it was evi- 
 dent, from her silence and her absent 
 manner, that her thoughts continued 
 occupied with what she had seen and 
 heard at the Horse Guards. 
 
 Captain Alverley did stand thunder- 
 struck, and continued so standing for 
 some moments after the carriage had 
 driven out of sight. Had I then seen 
 him, and known that of his character 
 which I now know, I should have 
 been reminded of the poet's descrip- 
 tion of the deadly serpent — 
 
 " Terribly beautiful the serpent lay, 
 Wreathed like a coronet of gold and jewels 
 Fit for a tyrant's brow ; anon he flew, 
 Straight like an arrow shot from his own 
 wings ! " 
 
 — or rather it might have appeared 
 as though the rattle-snake were stun- 
 ned for an instant by the suddenness 
 of the appearance of his beautiful vic- 
 tim. No ; the fatal spring had not 
 yet been made, nor had as yet the 
 fascination of that death-dooming eye 
 been felt by the victim ! 
 
 Almost immediately upon Colonel 
 
 St. Helen's arrival in India, he was 
 hurried into action ; and in little more 
 than a year after his departure from 
 England, the Gazette inade most hon- 
 orable mention of his name, as con- 
 nected with a very important action 
 in the Mahratta war. I could easily 
 contrive, I thought, to call to-day up- 
 on Mrs. St. Helen, and so be, per- 
 haps, the first to show her the Gazette, 
 and I made my arrangements accord- 
 ingly. Putting the important docu- 
 ment in my pocket, I drove in the di- 
 rection of Densleigh, having a patient 
 in the neighborhood. I left my car- 
 riage in the road, and walked up the 
 avenue to the house. I trod so noise- 
 lessly upon the " soft smooth-shaven 
 green," that my approach was not 
 perceived by the occupants of the 
 room in which we had lunched on 
 the occasion already noticed. They 
 were Mrs. St. Helen and her littleson 
 Arthur. The latter was evidently 
 acting the soldier, having a feather 
 stuck in his cap, and a broad red rib- 
 bon round his waist, to which was 
 attached a sword ; and, in order to 
 complete his resemblance to the fig- 
 ure of an officer, he had a drum fast- 
 ened in front of him, to the harmoni- 
 ous sound of which he was marching 
 fiercely round the room ; while his 
 mother, her beautiful countenance 
 turned fully and fondly towards him, 
 was playing upon the piano, " See 
 the conquering hero comes ! " She 
 perceived me approach, and started 
 for a moment ; but hastily motioning 
 me not to appear and disturb what 
 was going on, I stepped aside. 
 
 " And what does brave papa do, 
 Arthur 1 " said she, ceasing to play. 
 He stopped, dropped his drum-sticks, 
 drew his little sword with some dif- 
 ficulty from its sheath, and after ap- 
 pearing to aim one or two blows at 
 some imaginary enemy, returned it 
 to its scabbard, and was marching 
 with a very digniged air past his mo- 
 ther, when she rose from her seat, 
 
IG 
 
 THE DESTROYER. 
 
 and suddenly cidspiug the young war- 
 rior ill lier arms, smothered him with 
 kispcs. 
 
 " Pray walk in, dear Doctor," said 
 she, api)r(<achiiig ine, alter setting 
 down tlie child, " forgive a poor lone- 
 ly mother's weakness." 
 
 " So tlien you have heard of it ? " 
 
 " Heard of what ? " she inquired, 
 hurriedly, slitrhtly changing color. I 
 took out the Gazette. "Oh, come in, 
 come in, and we'll sit down — I — 
 I begin to feel — rather faint ; " her 
 eyes fastened upon the paper I held in 
 my hands. We sat down together 
 upon the sofa. As soon as, with the 
 aid of a vinaigrette, she had recovered 
 a little from her agitation, I read to 
 her, who listened breathless, the very 
 flattering manner in which Colonel 
 St. Helen's conduct, in a most san- 
 guinary action, was mentioned in the 
 despatch, with the gratifying addition 
 that his name was not included in the 
 list of either killed or wounded. " Oh, 
 my noble, gallant Arthur," she mur- 
 mured, bursting into tears, " I knew 
 he would acquit himself well. I won- 
 der, Arthur, if he thought of us, 
 when he was in the field ! " snatching 
 up her son, who, with his little hands 
 resting on her lap, stood beside her, 
 looking up concernedly in her face, 
 and folding him to her bosom. A 
 Hood of tears relieved her excitement. 
 She kissed the Gazette, and thanked 
 me warmly for having brought it to 
 her. She presently rung the bell, and 
 desired the butler to be sent for, who 
 soon made his appearance. 
 
 " Arc they at dinner ? " she intjuir- 
 ed. Ho bowed. '" Then give them 
 two bottles of wine, and let them 
 drink their master's health; for" — 
 
 She could not finish the sentence, 
 and I added for her : " Colonel St. 
 Helen has been engaged in a glorious 
 action, and gained great distinction." 
 
 "I'll give it, ma'am — sir — I will," 
 interrupted the impatient butler ; — 
 " we'll bo sure to drink inv master's 
 
 health, ma'am, his best health, and 
 yours, ma'am, and the young gentle- 
 man ; Lord, sir, it couldn't be other- 
 wise ! Is master hurt, sir 1 " 
 
 " Not a hair, I believe," I answer- 
 
 " Lord Almighty ! " he exclaimed, 
 unconsciously snapping his fingers as 
 his hands hung down, " only to think 
 of it, ma'am, how glad you must be, 
 ma'am, and young master there, 
 ma'am ; but how could it be other- 
 wise, ma'am ? " 
 
 " Thank you, Bennet, thank you t 
 make yourselves happy, for I am sure 
 I am," replied Mrs. St. Helen, as well 
 as her agitation would allow her, and 
 the butler withdrew. Poor Mrs. St. 
 Helen asked me a hundred questions, 
 which I had no more means of an- 
 swering than herself; and, in short, 
 was evidently greatly excited. As I 
 stood at the open window, which 
 opened on the lawn, admiring for a 
 moment the prospect it commanded, 
 my eye caught the figure of a cavalry 
 officer in undress uniform, followed 
 by his groom, cantering easily to- 
 wards Densleigh. 
 
 " Who can this be, Mrs. St. Hel- 
 en 1" said I, pointing liim out to her, 
 as she rose from the sofa. 
 
 "Who, Doctor? where?" she in- 
 quired hastily. 
 
 " It is an officer in undress uni- 
 form, evidently coming hither; I sup- 
 pose he brings you official informa- 
 tion." At that moment the api>roach- 
 ing figures were again, for an instant 
 visible at a sudden turn of the road ; 
 and Mrs. St. Helen, slightly changing 
 color, exclaimed, with, as I thought, 
 a certain tremor easily accotmted for, 
 " Oh, yes, I know who it is : Captain 
 Alverley, aide-de-camp to the Com- 
 mander-in-Chief; no doubt he comes 
 to tell me what I know already through 
 your kindness; and — he may also 
 bring me letters." 
 
 " Very possibly. Well, dear Mrs. 
 St. Helen, I most cordially congratu- 
 
THE DESTROYER. 
 
 17 
 
 late you on this good news ; but pray 
 don't siifTcr yourself to be excited," 
 said I, taking my hat and stick. 
 
 " Don't, don't hurry away, Doctor," 
 she replied. I took her hand in mine. 
 It was cold and trembled. I hastily 
 repeated my advice, having already 
 Btaid longer than my engagements al- 
 lowed. As I reached my carriage, 
 Captain Alverley — if such was the 
 officer's name — was just entering 
 the gate, which his groom was hold- 
 ing open for him. 
 
 " Well," thought I, as I drove off, 
 ** if I were Colonel St. Helen, and six 
 or seven thousand miles off, I should 
 not exactly prefer a tete-a-tete, even 
 on the subject of my own magnificent 
 exploits, between my beautiful wife 
 and that handsome officer," for cer- 
 tainly, as fur as my hurried scrutiny 
 went, I never had seen a man with a 
 finer person and air, or a more pre- 
 possessing countenance. That was 
 the first time I had ever seen or heard 
 of Captain Alverley. 
 
 Some little time after this occur- 
 rence, the death of an elder brother 
 entitled Colonel St. Helen to an in- 
 come of several thousands a-year and 
 a house in the immediate neighbor- 
 hood of Berkely Square. This was 
 an event the Colonel had anticipated 
 before leaving England, as his brother 
 had long been in a declining state of 
 health ; and he had arranged with his 
 solicitor and man of business, that 
 should the event take place before the 
 expiration of the term for which he 
 held Densleigh, efforts were to be 
 made to continue the lease, and the 
 
 house in Street was to be let, 
 
 but not for longer than three years. 
 If, however, Densleigh could not be 
 secured for a further lease, then Mrs. 
 
 St. Helen was to occupy Street 
 
 till the Colonel's return to England. 
 Colonel St. Helen's brother died short- 
 ly before the lease of Densleigh ex- 
 pired, and its proprietor, wishing to 
 
 live in it himself, declined to renew 
 the lease. The necessary arrange- 
 ments were therefore made for re- 
 moving Mrs. St. Helen, with her es- 
 tablishment to Street, a noble 
 
 residence, which the Colonel had left 
 orders should, in the contingency 
 which had happened, be furnished en- 
 tirely according to Mrs. St. Helen's 
 wishes. He had also made the pro- 
 per arrangements for putting her in 
 possession of an additional allowance 
 of ^2000 a-year ; and under the ju- 
 dicious superintendence of his solici- 
 tor, all these arrangements w ere spee- 
 dily and satisfactorily carried into ef- 
 fect ; and Mrs. St. Helen was duly 
 installed the mistress of her new and 
 elegant residence, with a handsome 
 equipage, a full retinue of servants, 
 and a clear income of .£3,500 a-year, 
 including her former allowance. Oh, 
 unhappy, infatuated husband, to have 
 made such an arrangement I Would 
 that you had never permitted your 
 lonely wife to enter such scenes of 
 dazzling danger — that you had ra- 
 ther placed her in secret retirement 
 till your return — far from the " gar- 
 ish eyes of the world — even in some 
 lone sequestered spot " 
 
 " WTiere glide the sunbeams through the 
 latticed boughs, 
 
 And fell like dew-drops on the spangled 
 ground. 
 
 To light the diamond-beetle on his way ; 
 
 Where cheerful openings let the sky look 
 down 
 
 Into the very heart of solitude, 
 
 On little garden-plots of social flowers. 
 
 That crowded from the shades to peep at 
 daylight ; 
 
 Or where impermeable foliage made 
 
 Midnight at noon, and chili damp horror 
 reign 'd 
 
 O'er dead fallen leaves and shining fungu- 
 ses ; " 
 
 — any ivherehvii in London. It was 
 done, however, at the impulse of a 
 generous confiding nature — though 
 in fatal error — for the best ' 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A LONDON SEASON DANGER 
 
 I WAS driving liome down — street 
 one evening alone, on my return from 
 a dinner purty, when I was stopped 
 for a moment by a crowd of carriages 
 
 opposite Lady 's ; and recollected 
 
 that I had promised to look in, if pos- 
 sible. I therefore got out, and made 
 my way as soon as I could into the 
 crowded mansion. Can any thing be 
 absurder than such a scene? I al- 
 ways disliked balls and routs ; but 
 such as these must be perfectly intol- 
 erable, I fancy, to any sober, rational 
 person. It was full five minutes be- 
 fore I could force my way up stairs 
 and along the spacious landing, to 
 the door of the principal room, into 
 which "all the" unhappy " world " 
 had squeezed itself, and was under- 
 going purgatory. How many hun- 
 dreds of ladies' maids and valets 
 would have gone distracted to see 
 their mistresses and masters so una- 
 ble to display their handiwork : stand- 
 ing januned together I but this is en- 
 joyment and fashion : why should I 
 find fault with those who experience 
 pleasure in such scenes? After gaz- 
 ing on the glistening, confused scene 
 for a monient, admiring the fortitude 
 of those who were enduring the heal 
 and pressure without a murmur, per- 
 ceiving no one I knew, at least with- 
 in speaking distance, I passed on to- 
 wards another room, in search of La- 
 dy , whom I wished to show that 
 
 I had kept my promise. The second 
 room was much less crowded, and 
 real, not make-believe, dancing was 
 going forward. 
 
 " She's very beautiful, is she not?" 
 
 said a gentleman just before me, to 
 one of two ladies who leaned upon 
 his arm, and who seemed looking cri- 
 tically at the dancers, — " Y-e-s, ra- 
 ther," was the answer, in a languid, 
 drawling tone. 
 
 " Waltzes well enough," said the 
 other lady, " but for my part I quite 
 dislike to see it." 
 
 "Dislike to see it? You joke," 
 interrupted the gentleman ; " why do 
 you dislike it? Upon my honor, I 
 think it's quite a treat to see such 
 waltzing as theirs." 
 
 " Oh, I dare say it's all correct 
 enough, if one comes to that. I must 
 own I should not waltz myself, if I 
 were married," said the glistening 
 skeleton on his right arm, dropping 
 its elaborately dressed head with a 
 would-be noive air. The ladies were 
 two of the daughters of the Earl of 
 Ilctheringliam : I knew not who the 
 gentleman \t^is. 
 
 " Really, I must say it's too bad, 
 under circumstances," said one of 
 the ladies, disdainfully eyeing a cou- 
 ple who were floating gracefully round 
 the room, and who presently stopped 
 in front of where I was standing, the 
 lady apparently exhausted for the (no- 
 ment with her exertion. The reader 
 may guess my feelings on recognizing 
 in these waltzers, Captain Alverley 
 and Mrs. St. Helen ! Fearful of en- 
 countering her eye, I slipped away 
 from where I had been standing, but 
 not before I heard one of the fair cri- 
 tics, immediately before whom the 
 pair of waltzers were standing, ad- 
 dress her with a sweet air, and com- 
 
THE DESTROYER. 
 
 1» 
 
 jjliment her on her performance! At 
 a little distance I continued to ol)- 
 serve her niovernenls. She was dress- 
 ed magnificently, and became her 
 <lres9 magnificently. She was cer- 
 tainly the most beautiful wMinaii in 
 the room ; and with her companion, 
 ■who was in full regimentals, one of 
 «he most conspicuous couples present. 
 After a few minutes^ pause, sj>ent in 
 «(Vnvers4iig with her two affectionate 
 coasins, she suffered her partner gent- 
 ly to lead her off again among the 
 ^valtzers. I could not help following 
 her motions with mingled feelings of 
 pity and indignation. I resolved to 
 throw myself in her way before quit- 
 ting the room, and for that purpose 
 stepped in front of the circle of by- 
 ■standers. I knew a little of Captain 
 Alverley's character, at least, by his 
 reputation ; and recollected tl»e agi- 
 tation his approach had occasioned 
 her, on my pointing out his figure to 
 her at Densleigh. There were four 
 -or five couples waltzing^ and those 
 whom I was so eagerly observing, a 
 second time stopped immediately in 
 front of where I now stood: he apol- 
 ogizing for the force with which he 
 had come against me. She, too, ob- 
 ■served it, and turned her head to see 
 to whom her partner had apologized. 
 The instant she recognised me, her 
 features became suffused with crim- 
 ison. Her companion observed it, and 
 iooked at me with a surprised and 
 haughty air, as if designing to dis- 
 courage me from speaking to her. I 
 was not, however, to be deterred by 
 «uch a trifle, 
 
 " How are you. Doctor ? " said, or 
 rather stammered Mrs. St. Helen, 
 giving me her hand, which 1 tlu^ught 
 trembled a little. 
 
 '' When did you hear from the Co- 
 lonel la&'t?" 1 inquired presently, dis- 
 •regarding the insulting air of impa- 
 tience manifested by Captain Alver- 
 ]ey, who could not avoid observing 
 ihe slight agitation and surprise my 
 
 presence had occasioned his beautiful 
 partner. 
 
 " Oh — I heard from India — not 
 for several months; oh, yes, I did, 
 about six weeks ngo. He was very 
 well when he wrote." Partly with 
 the fatigue of waltzing, and partly 
 through mental discomposure, she was 
 evidently agitated. She would have 
 continued her conversation with me, 
 but Captain Alverley insisted on tak- 
 ing her in quest of a seat and of re- 
 freshment, l soon after quilted the 
 house, without any further attempt to 
 
 see Lady ; and my thoiights were 
 
 so much occupied with tlie casual 
 rencontre I have just described, that I 
 walked several paces down tfie street, 
 on my way hon>e, before I recollected 
 that my cnrria^ was waiting for me, 
 I had seen nothing whatever that was 
 directly improper, and yet I felt, or 
 grieved as though I had. Good Cod! 
 was this the way in which Mrs. Sl 
 Helen testified her love for her gene- 
 rous, confiding husband ; for him who 
 had so affectionately secured her, by 
 anticipation, the means of enjoying 
 his expected accession of fortune ; for 
 him who was at that moment, possi- 
 bly, gallantly charging in aetion with 
 the enemies of his country; or who 
 mighthave already received the wound 
 which rendered her a widow an<l her 
 children fatherless? What accursed 
 influence had deadened her keen sen- 
 sibilities — had impaired her delicate 
 perception of propriety ? I began to 
 fee! heavy misgivings about this Cap- 
 tfiin Alverley ; inshort I reached home 
 full of vexing tlKxtghts, for Airs. St. 
 Helen had suddenly sunk mnny, ma- 
 ny degrees i« my estimatidn. She 
 did not iippear to me to be the same 
 woman that I had seen some twelve 
 months befiire at Densleigh : the ten- 
 der mother, the enthusiastic wife — 
 what had come to her ? 
 
 I thought it not improbable that I 
 should, in the morning, receive a mes- 
 sage from her requesting a visit dur- 
 
 ^ 
 
 y 
 
to 
 
 THE DESTROYER' 
 
 ing the day ; and I was not mistaken, 
 for while silting at breakfast, her ser- 
 vant br<»iight n>e a note to that effect, 
 requesting me to call, if convenient, 
 before one o'clock. I foresaw thai 
 our interview would be of a different 
 description to any former one. How- 
 ever uneasy I felt on her account, I 
 did not desire to be placed in the dis- 
 agreeable position of receiving expla- 
 nations and excuses which nothing 
 had called forth but her ovvn con- 
 sciousness of impropriety, and my in- 
 voluntary air of astonishment on the 
 preceding evening. I had so many 
 engagements that day, that it was 
 nearly two o'clock before I could 
 reach Mrs. St. Helen's. She sat in 
 ihe drawing-room, with her sister-in- 
 law, Mrs. Ogilvie, who had called 
 about an hour before: a very elegant 
 sweet woman, some ten or twelve 
 years her senior. I had evidently in- 
 terrupted an unpleasant interview be- 
 tween them ; for the former was in 
 tears, and the latter looked agitated ; 
 while, consequently, all of us looked 
 rather enibarrassed. 
 
 " Doctor ," said Mrs. St. He- 
 
 hn, quickly, after a few ordinary in- 
 quiries, '• now, do pray tell me, did 
 pou see any thing objectionable in 
 my " 
 
 " Emma! how can you be so fool- 
 ish? " interrupted Mrs. Ogilvie, ris- 
 ing, with much displeasure. " I am 
 really extremely vexed with you ! " 
 and sl>e quitted the room without re- 
 garding Mrs. St. Helen's intreaties 
 that slhc would stay. I should have 
 liked to follow her, or that she had 
 remained during my brief visit. I 
 proceeded immediately, with a mat- 
 ter of fact air, to make a few profes- 
 sional inquiries. 
 
 " But, my dear Doctor ," said 
 
 .she, earnestly, without answering my 
 questions, " do tell me candidly, what 
 (fid you see so very particular — and 
 amiss, in my conduct, hist night ? " 
 
 *' What did I see amiss? Dear 
 
 Mrs. St. Helen, you amaze me f E 
 
 had not been at Lady 's above a 
 
 minute or two before we met, and I 
 left almost directly after " 
 
 "Then what did your look meant 
 Do, dear I>octor, tell me what that 
 look meant? I really could not help 
 observing it, and I can't forget it." 
 
 " Mrs. St. Helen ! you really quite 
 
 — you must have strangely mistaken 
 my looks." 
 
 " Perhaps you don't — I suppmse — 
 that is, 1 know what you meant ; was it 
 that you didn't admire married wo- 
 men waltzing? Now, do tell me, for 
 I feel quite unhappy." 
 
 " Well, since you are so vert/ anx- 
 ious to know my opinion, I have no 
 hesitation in saying a " 
 
 " Oh, pray go on. Doctor," inter- 
 rupted Mrs. St. Helen impatiently. 
 
 " Why, all I was going to say is, 
 that I do not feel particularly pleased 
 
 — but I may be quite absurd, at see- 
 ing married women waltzing, espe- 
 cially JJiothrrs." 
 
 " Dear Doctor, and why not 1 You 
 can't think how much I respect your 
 opinion ; but surely, good heavens ! 
 what can there be indelicate" 
 
 " Mrs. St. Helen ! I did not use the 
 word." 
 
 " Well, but I know you meant it ; 
 why won't you be candid, now. Doc- 
 tor ? But had yoH' no other reason ? " 
 Her eyes filled with tears. 
 
 " My dear Mrs. St. Helen ! what 
 reason could I possibly have ?" I in- 
 terrupted gravely, wishing to put an 
 end to what threatened to become a 
 very unpleasant discussion. " I have- 
 given you ar> answer to the strange 
 question you asked ; and now sup- 
 pose " 
 
 " Oh, Doctor, it is useless to at- 
 tempt putting me off in this way — I 
 can read a look as well as any one. 
 I nuist have been blind not to see 
 yours. The fact is, I suppose" — 
 she raised her handkerchief to her 
 eyes, which were again beginning to* 
 
ITHE DESTROYER. 
 
 m 
 
 glisten with tears, " if you would but 
 ■be honest — did you not think I was 
 wrong in wahzing when my husband 
 — is aJ>roa<] and — and i« danger 1 " 
 ■She sobbed. 
 
 " Really, Mrs. St. Helen, you will 
 persi^'t in making my position her* so 
 unpleasant, that I must indeed take 
 my leave." At that iuoment I heard 
 the sound of a horse's feet approach- 
 ing in the street. Mrs. vSt. Helen 
 heard it, too; and hurrying to the 
 ■bell, puUed it with undisguised trepi- 
 dation. As soon as the servant en- 
 tered, she said in a vehement tone, 
 *' Not at home I Not at home ! " In 
 spite of her efforts to conceal it, she 
 tremWed vioknt^y, and her face be- 
 •came paler than before. Determined 
 to ascertain whether or not my sud- 
 •den suspicions were correct, I rose, 
 intending to walk to the window, 
 when I expected to see Captain Al- 
 verley ; but she prevented me, doubt- 
 'less purposely, extending her arm to- 
 wards me and begging me to feel her 
 pulse So I was kept engaged till I 
 heard the hall door closed, a^fter an 
 evident parley, and the retreating of 
 the equestrian \'isitef. I -had been re- 
 ■quested to call before one o'clock : it 
 was now past two : had she engaged 
 to ride out with Captain Alverley ? 
 
 " Well, what do you think of my 
 3)ulse, Doctor?" inquired Mrs. St. 
 Helen, breathing more freely, but 
 >still by BO means cailm. 
 
 " AVhy, it shows a high state of 
 ^nervous irritability and excitement, 
 Mrs. St. Helen." 
 
 " Very probably ; and no wonder I 
 People are so cruel and so scanda- 
 lous." She burst into tears. " Here's 
 tny sister been lecturing me this hour, 
 
 half killing me! She insists" 
 
 ^' Pray restrain your feelings, Mrs. 
 St. Helen ! Why all this agitatioH I 
 I am not your father confessor," said 
 I, endeavoring to assume a gay air. 
 Mrs. St. Helen paused, and sobbed 
 foeavily. 
 
 *' She tells me that my behavior is 
 so — so light, that I am getting my- 
 self talked about." She seemed ex- 
 ceedingly distressed. "Now, dear 
 Doctur, if you really love «ie as a ve- 
 ry, very old friend — I'm sure I love 
 1/ou — do tell me candidly, have i/ou 
 ever heard any thing ? " 
 
 "Never, Mrs. St. Helen, I solemn- 
 ly assure you, have I heard your name 
 mentioned to my k«o\vledge, till last 
 night, when I overhear^d two ladies, 
 who seemed to be -wondering at your 
 waltzing " — — 
 
 "Oh," she interrupted me w\X% 
 great vivacity, " I know who they 
 were! My cousins! My sweet, 
 good-natured coasins — Oh, the vi- 
 pers ! Wherever I go they hiss at 
 me. But I'il endure it no longer 1 
 
 I'll drive to Square this very 
 
 day, and insist " 
 
 " If you do, Mrs. St. Helen, and 
 mention one syllable of what I have 
 perhaps unguardedly told you, and 
 what I could not help overhearing, 
 we never meet again." 
 
 "Then what am I to do? " she ex- 
 claimed passionately. " Am I to en- 
 dure all this? Must I suffer myself 
 to be slandered with impunity? " 
 
 "God forbid, Mrs. St. Helen, that 
 you should be slandered." 
 
 " Then what am I to do ? " 
 
 "Give no occasion," I answered, 
 more dryly, perhaps, than I had in- 
 tended. 
 
 " Give no occasion, indeed ! '* 
 echoed Mrs. St. Helen, with an in 
 dignant air, rising at the same time, 
 and walking rapidly to and fro. "And 
 who says that I ever have given oc- 
 easion ? " fixing her bright eye upon 
 me with a kind of defiance. 
 
 " Mrs. St. Helen, you greatly griev^ 
 and surprise me by all this. You ask 
 me again and again for an answer to 
 a very strange question, and when at 
 length you get one, you are affronted 
 with me for giving it. I decJare that 
 J know nothing whatever about your 
 8 mM b^jlaiirib 
 
•22 
 
 THE DESTROYER. 
 
 conduct one way or (he other. But 
 since you hnve forced me to speak, 
 very reluctnnllv — for I have no busi- 
 ness to enter into such matters — I 
 can but repent what T have said, that 
 if the tongue of scandal and envy is 
 busy witi) you, you must be extraor- 
 dinarily on your guard to Jet your 
 conduct give them the lie ! " 
 
 " My, dear Doctor," said she, sud- 
 dejily resuming her seat, and speak- 
 ing in the sweetest and most sorrow- 
 ful tone of voice, "I — I will be more 
 guarded ; I — I will not waltz again." 
 Sobs prevented her going on. I took 
 her hand cordially. 
 
 " I am delighted to hear you say so, 
 Mrs. St. Heleti. I know well your 
 high honor, your purity of principle ; 
 but, believe me, your innocent, un- 
 suspecting frankness may yet expose 
 you often to danger. Why may I not 
 lell you the feelings of my heart, dear 
 Mrs. St. Helen ? they are towards 
 you more those of a father, than a 
 friend or physician. You are young, 
 why should I not tell you what you 
 ■know? you are very l>eautiful; " she 
 i)uried her face in her hands and sob- 
 ■bed almost convulsively. *' The men 
 of the world, of fashion, into whose 
 way you have been lately so much 
 ihrown, are often very unprincipled 
 and base ; they may, with subtle 
 wickedness, contrive snares for you 
 that your innocent inexperience can- 
 not detect till perhaps too late." She 
 involuntarily squeezed my hand, for I 
 «till held hers, but attempted no re- 
 ply. " Now, may I tell you what was 
 really passing through my mind last 
 
 night at Lady 's ? " She spoke 
 
 not, but continued her face in her 
 liandkerchief " I was thinking that 
 perhaps at the moment you were be- 
 ing whirled round the room by that 
 Captain Alverley, your gallant hus- 
 band, charging at the head of his re- 
 giment, might be tumbling dead from 
 bis hor.se." 
 
 " Ah I and so did I the moment I 
 saw you I " almost shrieked Mrs. St. 
 
 Helen, suddenly raising her pallid 
 face from the handkerchief in which 
 it had been buried. 1 had the great- 
 est difficulty in preventing her going 
 off into violent hysterics. After a 
 long struggle with her tumultuous 
 feelings, " O, Arthur! Arthur ! " she 
 exclaimed in such a tone as brought 
 the tears suddenly into my eyes ; " if 
 I have ever wronged you in thought, 
 in word, or in deed ! " 
 
 " Impossible ! perfectly impossi- 
 ble ! " I exclaimed with energy in a 
 cheerful, exulting tone. 
 
 " No ! " she exclaimed, sitting sud- 
 denly upright, while a noble expres- 
 sion beamed in her excited features, 
 which were blanched with her vehe- 
 ment emotions. " No ! I am his 
 wife! I am the mother of his chil- 
 dren ! I have not'betrayed them. I 
 will not!" 
 
 I looked at her with astonishment; 
 the wild smile passed quickly from 
 her pallid, beautiful countenance, and 
 she sunk back on the sofa in a swoon. 
 I instantly summoned assistance, and 
 her maid, with one or two other fe- 
 male servants, presently entered hast- 
 ily with water and smelling-salts." 
 
 *' I knew she was ill, sir," said her 
 maid Joyce : " she's not been quite 
 herself I may say this several weeks. 
 This constant going out at nights 
 doesn't do for her, and I've often told 
 her so, sir ! " 
 
 " I suppose she goes out a great 
 deal in tlie evenings ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, sir ; three or four times 
 a-week, and oftener, sir." 
 
 " Is it generally late before she 
 comes back ? " 
 
 " Never hardly before three or four 
 o'clock in the morning, sir; and so 
 tired and knocked up, as one may 
 say." Here Mrs St. Helen began to 
 revive. She seemed very much an- 
 noyed when she had thoroughly re- 
 covered her consciou.sness, at being 
 surrounded by the servants. After 
 giving a few directions, I left, prom- 
 ising to call again in a day or two. 
 
€HAPTER V 
 
 THE I)ESTROYE«. 
 
 TTuuEE or four times a-week and 
 oftener ! The words rung in my 
 ears long after Mrs. St. Helen was 
 out of sight. Was this the same wo- 
 man that had once inquired with such 
 a passionate air whether Colonel St. 
 Helen ever thought of her and her 
 children when he was going to the 
 field, and surrounded by death 1 How- 
 would that gallant heart of his have 
 been wrung, at such a moment, had 
 he known in what manner she con- 
 ducted herself during his absence! 
 Despite what had recently passed be- 
 tween us, I trembled for Mrs. St. He- 
 len ; I knew not how far she might be 
 already committed, to what extent her 
 light and thoughtless behavior might 
 have given encouragement to those 
 ever ready to take advantage of such 
 conduct : her emotions had been vio- 
 lent, and were no doubt genuine; and 
 yet the agonies I had been witnessing 
 might be litttle else than the mere 
 spasms of declining virtue! 
 
 Of Captain Alverley, the Honorable 
 Charles Alverley, I regret that I should 
 have to speak at any length. But I 
 must : he is one of the main figures 
 in this painful picture; he is the De- 
 stroyer. He belonged to a high fa- 
 mily, was a well-educated and ac- 
 complished man, of handsome person 
 and an irresistible address ; yet, ne- 
 vertheless, as heartless a villain as 
 ever existed. He was a systematic 
 seducer. The fair sex he professed 
 to idolize ; yet he could not look up- 
 on them but with a lustful and cor- 
 rupting eye. He was proverbial 
 for his gallantries; he made every- 
 
 thing subservient to them. His cha- 
 racter was well known, and yet, alas! 
 he was everywhere esteemed in soci- 
 ety, in whose parlance he was a gen- 
 tleman ! Who could resist the gay, 
 the bland, the graceful Alverley, with 
 his coronet in expectation ? 
 
 Why, asks one in happy ignorance 
 of the world about him, is such a 
 wretch created, and suffered to infest 
 the fairest regions of humanity ? It 
 might as well be asked, why has the 
 Almighty created the cobra or the 
 crocodile ! 
 
 Captain Alverley, as already inti- 
 mated, had excited a strong interest 
 in Miss Annesley's heart before she 
 had ever seen or heard of Colonel St. 
 Helen. Having discovered her want 
 of fortune, he withdrew on the plea 
 already mentioned, from the compe- 
 tition for her hand, but he never lost 
 sight of her. He had, in fact, deter- 
 mined, come what would, on effecting 
 the ruin of Mrs. St. Helen ; and he 
 set to work patiently, and, as he often 
 considered, sciaitificaUy. It has been 
 supposed, though with what truth I 
 know not, that he had something or 
 other to do with poor Colonel St. He- 
 len's sumnnons upon foreign service ; 
 and the moment he had sailed, the 
 fiend commenced his operations. They 
 were long retarded, however, by the 
 strictly secluded life Mrs. St. Helen 
 led at Densleigh, occupied with her 
 holy and happy n)aternal duties. 
 Would to Heaven that she had never 
 quitted the one, or been diverted, 
 ev^i for a moment, from the perform- 
 ance of the other ! The accidental 
 
24 
 
 THE DESTROYER. 
 
 recontre at the Horse Guards I have 
 already mcDtioned. The iiistaot that 
 he waa commissioned by his Royal 
 master to bear a kind message to 
 Mrs. St. Helen, he determined upon 
 the demeanor he should assutne: one 
 at once delicate and deferential, and 
 fraught with sympathy for her evident 
 suffering. Observing her agitation, 
 he did not attemj)t, by a look or ■■'. 
 word, to remind her that they had 
 ever met before ; confining himself, 
 with perfect tact, to the delivery of 
 the message with which he had been 
 charged. When Mrs. St. Helen ab- 
 ruptly drove off, in the manner alrea- 
 dy described, his vile heart leaped for 
 jo}'. His practised eye saw that her 
 agitation was n(jt cntirdy attributable 
 to the errand on which she had come. 
 He certainly had remained standing 
 in the manner Mrs. Ogilvie had des- 
 cribed ; but it was not in astonish- 
 ment, he was pondering what had just 
 happened ; and in a few moments re- 
 turned to the room he had quitted, 
 with a flush on his countenance, and 
 the consciousness that he hnd com- 
 menced his infernal campaign. Some 
 six or eight months afterwards, a pac- 
 ket arrived at the Horse Guards from 
 India, enclosing a letter which the 
 writer. Colonel St. Helen, begged 
 might be thrown into the post for 
 Mrs. St. Helen. Of this, however. 
 Captain Alverley look charge, and 
 that very afternoon rodo down to 
 Densleigh, and delivered it wiib his 
 own hands into those of the servant, 
 " with Captain Alverley's compli- 
 ments," when he rode off. He justJy 
 considered that his delicacy in doing 
 BO could not but be appreciated. It 
 was so! Had Mrs. St. Helen then 
 closely and faithfully examined her 
 heart, in order to ascertain the exact 
 nature of her feelings on finding that 
 Captain Alverley had himself brought 
 her a letter with tlie immediate re- 
 ceipt of which he supposed she could 
 be so much gratified, and that he had 
 
 abstained from personally delivering' 
 it; had she done this, her heart-stric- 
 ken eye might have detected the ser- 
 pent, dim-glistening in dreadful beau- 
 ty, beneath the concealing foliage. 
 Thesudden shudder would have been 
 her salvation ; but she did not, she 
 could not. Not hers was the salutary 
 habit or the power of self-examina- 
 tion ; not hers, alas I had been the 
 blessed rigilance of a fond and virtu- 
 ous mother, exercised over her young 
 years! Already, in the sight of God, 
 had commenced the guilt of Mrs. St. 
 Helen, who yet nevertheless was un- 
 conscious of the presence or approach 
 of evil, even in thought. But why ? 
 Because of her fatal remissness in 
 guarding the " approaches of her 
 heart." Had she then asked help 
 from heaven, she might have perceiv- 
 ed the danger which nothing but hea- 
 ven's help could have detected. The 
 tempter, says an old divine, " is then 
 eyer nighest when we think him far 
 thest off." Yes, a subtle poison had 
 already been imperceptibly infused, in 
 infinitely small quantity, it may be, 
 into the heart of Mrs. St. Helen, a 
 poison of slow but inevitable opera- 
 tion. O, woman, this is the point 
 of danger ! I repeat it that, harsh 
 and unjust as it may appear, from the 
 moment alluded to Mrs. St. Helen 
 became an accomplice in effecting her 
 own ruin. Not that she had as yet 
 sensibly or consciously suffered any 
 injury ; the wife and the mother were 
 still supreme in Mrs. St. Helen ; her 
 quick and ardent feelings knew of no 
 otlier objects, no other outlets than 
 these. O unhappy woman ! why was 
 it that wJiietj Captain Alverley con- 
 veyed to you the intelligence of your 
 husband's triumphs, you trembled at 
 hearing of it I Why was that faint 
 flutter at your heart? Had not I al- 
 ready communicated all he came to 
 tell ? What feelings flitted through 
 your bosom when, leaning against the 
 window, you followed the retiring 
 
THE DESTROYER. 
 
 ^ 
 
 figure of Alverley ? He had been most 
 eloquent in praise of your husband ; 
 his winning tones entered your heart; 
 but how failed your eye to encounter 
 the ardetit look with which he regard- 
 ed you 1 Ought not the conscious 
 difference between the feelings with 
 which you regarded him and me, or 
 any other indifl'erent person, to have 
 sounded the alarm, in your husband's 
 name, in every chamber of your heart? 
 Ill-fated woman ! dare you appeal to 
 Heaven to testify all the feelings with 
 which you heard of quitting Densleigh 
 for London ? Were you even reluc- 
 tant to take that step because of your 
 dislike to encounter Alverley ? would 
 you avow the feelings with which you 
 found yourself becoming intimate with 
 his distinguished family ? Alas! did 
 you not feel a secret satisfaction at 
 
 finding yourself sitting at Lord 's 
 
 dinner table, with Captain Alverley 
 beside you ? Had not your perception 
 of right and wrong been suddenly 
 confused and disturbed, how could 
 you tolerate his altered demeanor to- 
 wards you ? Did you not observe and 
 tremblingly appreciate the tact with 
 which attentions, exquisitely flattering 
 and gratifying to you, were concenled 
 from all others? Did a sense of se- 
 curity from observation begin to show 
 itself when you perceived the skill 
 with which all his movements were 
 conducted ? What alteration of feel- 
 ing did not all this imply? Dreadful 
 questions : how clearly does your dis- 
 inclination to answer them indicate 
 the nature of the change you are un- 
 dergoing ! 
 
 Mrs. St. Helen had not been in 
 London half a year, before Captain 
 Alverley felt that he was triuniphing, 
 that his long-continued and deeply- 
 laid schemes were conducting him to 
 success. The first, the very first step, 
 he had felt to be every thing : it had 
 gained him an intere.st, however faint, 
 in her feelings, and he cherished it 
 with the most exquisite skill, the most 
 
 watchful assiduity. He kept himself 
 even in the back ground. He would 
 excite her feelings with his generous 
 and eloquent eulogies of Colonel St. 
 Helen's conduct abroad 5 in the mid- 
 dle of one of them he suddenly be- 
 came confused, heaved a faint sigh, 
 and resumed his conversation with 
 ill-disguised eml)arrassment. He bu* 
 sied himself, he took infinite pains, at 
 least he led her to think so, in pro- 
 curing the return home of Colonel 
 St. Helen ; thus, in short, and in a 
 thousand other ways, he at length 
 disarmed Mrs. St. Helen, by lulling 
 her suspicion, or rather preventing 
 their being excited. Consummately 
 skilled in the workings of the female 
 heart, he guided his conduct accord- 
 ing to the indications he discovered. 
 In handing her one night to her car- 
 riage from the opera, he made a point 
 of insulting a gentleman who, with a 
 lady on his arm, was hurrying on be- 
 fore Captain Alverley and Mrs. St. 
 Helen. A hurried whisper between 
 the two gentlemen satisfied Mrs. St. 
 Helen that there was mischief in pre- 
 paration. " For heaven's sake ! " she 
 whispered, in excessive trepidation ; 
 but he gently forced her into the car- 
 riage, and permitted it to drive off 
 without his uttering a word. He 
 gained his end. The evening papers 
 of the ensuing day duly announced 
 an "affair of honor" betMeen the 
 " Marquis of * * * * *," attended 
 by, &LC., and Captain A. B. C, at- 
 tended, &LC. " The meeting arose 
 out of an alleged affront offered by 
 the noble Marquis to a young and 
 beautiful lady," «fcc. fcc, " whom the 
 Captain was conducting to her car- 
 riage," &c. &c. Very strange to say, 
 neither party did the other any harm. 
 Captain Alverley, on the next opera 
 night, found his way to her box. 
 
 "Captain Alverley! how could 
 you? " commenced Mrs. St. Helen, 
 very earnestly. 
 
 " My dear Mrs. St. Helen ! " was 
 
26 
 
 THE DESTROYED. 
 
 the only reply, with a look that none 
 could <rive but Captain Alverley. He 
 knew the amount of his gain, and 
 was in ecstasies. 
 
 In the profTress of " the affair," 
 Captain /* Iveriey's next step was to 
 accustom Mrs. St. Helen to hear her- 
 self called a flirt, and to have his 
 name, on such occasions, always ju- 
 diciou-ly coupled with hers. The 
 first time thnt ever she waltzed with 
 iiim, which he justly regarded as an 
 open triumph, was in consequence of 
 a very heated altercation she had with 
 Mrs. Ogilvie, who liad freely charged 
 her with culpable lightness of con- 
 duct with reference to Captain Al- 
 verley ; the consequence of which 
 was, that Mrs. St. Helen went, as she 
 had angrily threatened, to a ball, and 
 casting a look of defiance at her sis- 
 ter-in-law, she instantly accepted Cap- 
 tain Alverley's invitation, infinitely to 
 his astonishment. He saw his posi- 
 tion, and behaved with prudence. Af- 
 ter one or two rounds, he led her, 
 with an air of the properest deference 
 in the world, to a seat, and paid her 
 no marked attentions whatever dur- 
 ing the evening. He perceived that 
 her lynx-eyed sister watched his eve- 
 ry movement ; and for upwards of a 
 fortnight he suspended all but the 
 most ordinary and casual civilities and 
 attentions to Mrs. St. Helen. Why 
 did not the infatuated woman at once 
 break through all the meshes with 
 which she was now conscious of be- 
 ing surrounded ? Why did no sudden 
 alarm of virtue, no heaven-inspired 
 strength, enable her to *' flee like a 
 bird from the snare of the fowler ? " 
 Alas, that I should have to write it ! 
 Shr did not notn wish to do so. Not 
 that yet even she contemplated the 
 the horible idea of positive guilt 
 — vastly fir from it. She was so con- 
 scious of her own strength as to pre- 
 vent all apprehensions on that score. 
 It is true she wis occasionally sensi- 
 ble, with a heart-flutter and cheek 
 
 suffused, of an interest in Captain Al- 
 verley, that was inconsistent with the 
 undivided affection due to her hus- 
 band ; she went not further conscious- 
 ly, but how far was this ! She con- 
 soled herself with the notion that it 
 was certainly rather coquettish, and 
 that was almost universal. The plain 
 truth was, she began to indulge to- 
 wards Captain Alverley feelings which 
 she no longer dared to scrutinize. 
 Her vanity, again, would not suffer 
 her to part with so gay and dazzling 
 a follower : " she was surely able to 
 take care of herself" 
 
 Once or twice I called upon Mrs. 
 St. Helen, in pursuance of the prom- 
 ise I made, but without seeing her, as 
 she had just gone out. This might, 
 or it might not be true. If she was 
 denying herself to me, it must have 
 been on account of what had taken 
 place on the occasion alluded to; and 
 was it that she was ashamed of her 
 frankness, of the extent of her ad- 
 missions, or that she regretted having 
 made them from other considerations? 
 I was driving one afternoon through 
 the Park, on my way to a patient near 
 Cumberland Gate, when I happened 
 to overtake the open carriage of Mrs. 
 St. Helen, driving very slowly, she 
 being in conversation with an eques- 
 trian who walked his horse alongside, 
 and I soon detected in him Captain 
 Alverley. I perceived with a hurried 
 look in passing, that she was listening 
 intently to what he was saying, look- 
 ing down, and slightly coloring. I 
 feit sick at heart for her ! The next 
 time that I saw her at home, she 
 seemed very calm, and sensil)ly cold- 
 er in her marmer towards me than I 
 had ever seen her before. She made 
 not, nor of course did I, the slightest 
 allusion to our late deeply interesting 
 conversation. In answer to my in- 
 quiries, she said that she was in very 
 good health, except that she did not 
 now sleep so soundly as heretofore, 
 and her appetite had also declined — 
 
THE DESTROYER. 
 
 a? 
 
 the usual consequences, I told her, of 
 a life of London dissipation, of irreg- 
 ular hours, excitement and fatigue. 
 
 " As I feel rather solitary in this 
 large house," said she, "I have invit- 
 ed a Miss Churchill, a distant rela- 
 tion of the Colonel's, to pay me a vi- 
 sit. She's a very good, sweet girl, 
 and I have no doubt we shall be in- 
 separable." While she said this, a 
 slight color mounted into her cheek, 
 which set me speculating upon what 
 she had just told me. Was then her 
 summons to Miss Churchill a signal 
 of distress? Was it that she began 
 to feel her danger? that she wished a 
 protector, some one who should be 
 indeed, as she said, inseparable from 
 her, ever by her side, whose presence 
 might check, if not prevent, the in- 
 creasing ardor and attentions of Cap- 
 tain Alverley ? Faint effort of en- 
 dangered virtue ! But it was an ef- 
 fort, and I rejoiced to see it made. 
 
 " When do you purpose leaving 
 town ? " I inquired. 
 
 " Leaving town ! " she exclaimed 
 quickly, " why, dear Doctor, should I 
 leave town ? the season not yet at its 
 height, even ? Besides, I hate the 
 country; T never heartily liked it." 
 
 *' I thought, Mrs. St. Helen " — 
 
 " Oh, yes," she interrupted hastily, 
 " I know what you mean. Densleigh 
 was certainly a pleasant place enough, 
 but we've lost it." She paused for a 
 moment, and added, '* but I suppose 
 that about August we must go down 
 somewhere or other " — 
 
 "The sea-air will do wonders for 
 you and the children." 
 
 "Yes, I dare say it would," she re- 
 plied, with rather an indifferent air, 
 " but at present they are very well ; I 
 always have them taken to the Park ; 
 and where can there be a finer air ? " 
 Here some visiters were announced, 
 the servant at the same time laying 
 down six or seven notes and cards of 
 invitation upon one of the tables. 
 
 About a month afterwards I receiv- 
 
 ed the following note from Mrs. St. 
 Helen : 
 
 " Dear Doctor, — Will you call in 
 here, in the course of the morning, to 
 see one of the children, who, ] fear, 
 is poorly? Jones tells me she thinks 
 it is the measles. I hope it is not 
 anything worse, the scarlet fever, for 
 instance, or small pox? But you can 
 soon tell. I shall wait at home for 
 you till two. 
 
 Ever yours, 
 
 E. St. Hf.len. 
 
 P. S. I have never had either of 
 these horrid complaints myself, and 
 feel rather nervous. 
 
 Street, 10 o'clock." 
 
 What a dismal contrast this note 
 afforded, I thought, laying it down 
 with a sigh, to the eager, alarmed 
 summons she had sent on a former 
 occasion from Densleigh ! A little 
 after two o'clock 1 was at — Street, 
 and was shown up immediately into 
 the nursery. Mrs. St. Helen's pony- 
 phseton was at the door, and she was 
 sitting, ready dressed for a drive, on 
 the corner of the bed in which lay 
 her younger child. Her handkerchief 
 saturated with eau de cologne, was 
 every now and then lifted to her face, 
 as though she dreaded infection. She 
 looked very beautiful, her dress infi- 
 nitely became her, and not particularly 
 agitated. 
 
 " I was beginning to get fidgetty, 
 Doctor : I was afraid I should not see 
 you," said .she, rising to meet me. I 
 assured her that I had been unexpect- 
 edly detained. " And what do you 
 think of the little love? I was afraid 
 he was ailing a little yesterday — his 
 eyes looked very heavy yesterday 
 evening, didn't they, Jones? " turning 
 to the maid 
 
 *' Yes, ma'am," she replied, eager- 
 ly, directing an affectionate and anx- 
 ious look to the child. " You may 
 recollect, ma'am, I asked you yester- 
 day afternoon if we hadn't better send 
 for " — 
 
dd 
 
 THE DESTROYER. 
 
 " Oh, yes — I dare say — I think 
 ynii Hid, Jones," interrupted Mrs. St. 
 Helen quickly, and with rather a dis- 
 pleased air. " Jones is always terrified 
 with every chnnge in the child's face. 
 But do you think there is any thing 
 really the niattel-. Doctor?" 
 
 After a little examination I told her 
 that I thought the child was sickening 
 for the measles. 
 
 " Is he indeed, sweet little lamb?" 
 she exclaimed, looking really kindly 
 at the child. " You don't think it's 
 scarlet fever, now ? " after a moment's 
 pause, turning anxiously towards me, 
 and gently agitating her fragrant 
 handkerchief. 
 
 " No," I replied, " at present I 
 think it is decidedly the measles." 
 
 " Measles are not dangerous, are 
 they ? " 
 
 " La, ma'am ! " interrupted Jones, 
 who was kneeling at the side of the 
 bed, near the child, her eyes filling 
 with tears, " excuse me, ma'am, but 
 my poor sister's child died of them 
 only a twelvemonth ago?" 
 
 "Oh, nonsense, Jones, why do you 
 try to alarm me in this way ? There's 
 no such very great danger, Doctor, is 
 there?" turning towards me with 
 more interest in her manner than she 
 had hitherto manifested. 
 
 " I sincerely hope not. At present I 
 can assure you there is every appear- 
 ance of its being a mild attack." 
 
 "Only feel how hot his little hand 
 is, ma'am ? " said Jones. 
 
 Mrs. St. Helen did not remove her 
 gloves, but said to me, " Of course he 
 is rather feverish just now?" 
 
 After giving a few directions con- 
 cerning the temperature of the room, 
 his food, and one or two other little 
 matters, I left, and descended to the 
 drawing room to write a prescription. 
 
 " I shall return home by four, 
 Jones," said Mrs. St. Helen, also quit- 
 ting the room, and following me, " be 
 sure you pay him every attention — 
 don't remove your eyes from him for 
 a moment ! " 
 
 " I'm quite delighted to find that 
 there's no danger, Doctor," said she, 
 seating herself beside me, as I began 
 to write. 
 
 " Indeed, my dear madam," deter- 
 mined not to let matters pass so very 
 easily, " we must not be too sanguine. 
 There are two forms of measles, the 
 one a mild, the other very malignant. 
 At present I cannot undertake to say 
 with certainty which of the two it is." 
 
 She continued silent for a few mo- 
 ments. " I think I told you in my 
 note that I believed I had never had 
 the measles? Are they really catch- 
 ing from a child to a grown-up per- 
 son ? " 
 
 "Undoubtedly." 
 
 " Heavens ! I — I'll have pastiles 
 burnt all over the house all day ! Dear 
 me ! it would be dreadful if I were to 
 catch it, because," she added hastily, 
 "of dear little Arthur ! " 
 
 " Well, we must hope for the best," 
 said I, quietly folding up my prescrip- 
 tion, and requesting that it might be 
 sent to the druggist's without delay ; 
 and hastily taking my leave, with a 
 countenance that, had she been as 
 sensitive as in former times, she might 
 perceive somewhat clouded with dis- 
 approbation. Was the mother's heart, 
 then, already so dulled towards her 
 suflTering offspring? Could I doubt 
 the selfish nature of her anxieties ? 
 What infernal change had come over 
 her? Why did she not instantly or- 
 der back her carriage, undress, and 
 betake herself to the only place that 
 then became her : the bedside of her 
 child ? But it was otherwise. A few 
 minutes after I had quitted, she step- 
 ped into her carriage, and drove into 
 the Park. At my suggestion, the el- 
 der child, Arthur, was sent off imme- 
 diately to Mrs. Ogilvie's, who resided 
 somewhere in the neighborhood Of 
 Chelsea ; and I continued in daily 
 attendance upon little George for 
 about a week, during which time the 
 symptoms were of the milder descrip- 
 tion, and I anticipated the speedy re 
 
THE DESTROYER. 
 
 29 
 
 covery of the little patient, Mrs. St. 
 Helen, ulienever I was present, evi- 
 dently — at least I was uncharitable 
 enough to admit the idea — acted ihe 
 fond mother, ajp2}earing deeply inter- 
 ested in the progress of her child 
 through his little perils. I had rea- 
 son to believe, from one or two little 
 circumstances that fell under iny ob- 
 servation, that she did not withdraw 
 from the world of pleasure. The 
 
 constant attendants upon little George 
 were, not his mother, but Miss Church- 
 ill, and his nursery maid Jones, both 
 of them most anxious and aflfectJonate 
 nurses, as, indeed, I heard Mrs. St. 
 Helen herself, in the blandest possi- 
 ble way, acknowledge. Well, indeed, 
 she might, having thus devolved the 
 chiefest of her maternal duties upon 
 the companion she had invited to par- 
 take of her pleasures only. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE SICK CHILD THE MOTHER AT THE Ol'ERA. 
 
 I THINK it was about ten days after 
 I had been first called in to attend 
 upon little St. Helen, that I was sud- 
 denly summoned, about eight o'clock 
 in tiie evening, to — Street, with the 
 intelligeme that he had become very 
 suddenly worse, and that Miss Church- 
 ill was much alarmed. Thither I re- 
 paired as quickly as possible, and 
 found that appearances justified her 
 apprehensions. There was every 
 symptom of the accession of the ma- 
 lignant form of measles. He had just 
 had a fit of spasujs, and was now 
 breathing hard and quickly, and 
 scorched up with fever. The symp- 
 toms were certainly serious. 
 
 " You must not, however, be too 
 much alarmed, Mrs. St. Helen," said 
 I, hastily turning round, forgetting, at 
 the moment, that she, the most inter- 
 ested, was not present. The child 
 had been going on as well as usual, 
 radidly recovering, in fact, till six 
 o'clock that evening; about which 
 time Mrs. St. Helen, after making 
 particular inquiries about the child, 
 
 went ofT lo dinner at Lady 's, 
 
 where she had ordered the carriage to 
 call for her about nine, and convey 
 her to the opera. In their fright Miss 
 C!iurchill and the servants forgot all 
 this, and instinctively sent off for me. 
 Afier giving such directions as ap- 
 peared proper, I quitted the room, 
 beckoning out for a moment Miss 
 Churchill. 
 
 " Dear sweet little love! I'm afraid 
 he's very ill," she exclaimed, much 
 agitated and bursting into tears, as 
 siie slcppc<l with me for a moment in- 
 
 to another room. I acknowledged to 
 her that I considered the child in dan- 
 gerous circumstances : " Have you 
 sent after Mrs. St. Helen ? she ought 
 to be here." 
 
 "Dear! we have been all so flur- 
 ried ; but we'll inquire," she replied, 
 running down stairs before me. " I 
 really don't think she's been sent for, 
 but I will immediately. Let me see, 
 nine o'clock. She'll be at the opera 
 by this time." 
 
 " Then I will drive thither imme- 
 diately, as my carriage is here, and 
 bring her back with me, It will not 
 do to alarm her too suddenly, and in 
 such a place. Let me see : on which 
 side of the house is her box ? " 
 
 " Number — , on the left hand side 
 of the stage. I think, at least, that 
 you will find her in that box, which is 
 
 the Duchess of 's, and she called 
 
 here to-day to offer it to Mrs. St. He- 
 len." I drove off immediately, and 
 had a twofold object in doing so : to 
 acquaint her as soon as possible with 
 an event of such serious importance 
 as the dangerous illness of her child, 
 and to endeavor, in doing so, to star- 
 tle her out of the infatuation into 
 whicli I feared she had fallen, to re- 
 mind her again of the high and holy 
 duties she was beginning to disregard. 
 The sight of the dying child would 
 rouse, I thought, the smothered feel- 
 ings of the mother, and those would 
 soon excite an agonizing recollection 
 of the distant husband. On arriving 
 at the opera-house, I made my way, 
 in my hurry, to the wrong side. I 
 went into one or two empty boxes be- 
 
THE DESTROYER. 
 
 31 
 
 fore I discovered my mistake ; and 
 wlien at length I perceived it, I deter- 
 mined to stay for a few moments 
 where I was, and endeavor to see 
 what was goincr on in the Duchess of 
 
 's box. There sat, sure enough, 
 
 in the corner of the box, her face di- 
 rected towards the stage, Mrs. St. 
 Helen, dressed with her usual ele- 
 gance, and looking extremely beauti- 
 ful. Her left hand slowly moved her 
 fan about, and she was evidently oc- 
 casionally conversing with some one 
 standing far back in the box. I con- 
 templated her with real anguish, when 
 I thought of her husband, — if indeed 
 she were not now a widow, — and of, 
 perhaps, her dying child. My heart 
 almost failed me, and 1 began to re- 
 gret having undertaken the painful 
 duty which had brought me where I 
 was. 1 stretched myself as far for- 
 ward as I could, to discover, if possi- 
 ble, who was in the box with her, but 
 in vain. Whoever it was that she was 
 talking to, her fan now and then flut- 
 tering hurriedly, he, or she, kept as 
 far out of sight as possible. Just as 
 I was quitting my post of observation, 
 however, a sudden motion of a red 
 arm, displaying the feather cf an of- 
 ficer's cap, satisfied me that her com- 
 panion was the execrable Alverley. I 
 now felt an additional repugnance to 
 go through with what I had underta- 
 ken ; but I hurried round on the op- 
 posite side of the house, and soon 
 stood knocking at the door of the 
 Duchess's box. I knocked, and it 
 was immediately opened by — Cap- 
 tain Alverley. 
 
 '• Is Mrs. St. Helen here? " I whis- 
 pered. He bowed stiffly, and admit- 
 ted me. Mrs. St. Helen, on seeing 
 me, reddened violently. Rising from 
 her seat and approaching me, she 
 suddenly grew pale, for she could not 
 but perceive that my features were 
 somewhat discomposed. 
 
 " Good. God ! Doctor, what brings 
 you here?" she inquired, with in- 
 creasing trepidation. 
 
 " Permit me to ask, sir," said Cap- 
 lain Alverley, interposing with an air 
 of liaughty curiosity, " whether any 
 thing has happened to justify the 
 alarm which Mrs. St. Helen " 
 
 " I don't wish you to be frighten- 
 ed," said I, addressing her, without 
 noticing her companion, or what he 
 had said : I could not overcome my 
 repugnance to him; "but 1 think 
 you had better return home with me: 
 my carriage is waiting for )ou," 
 
 "Oh my child! my child'." she 
 exclaimed faintly, sinking into her 
 seat again ; " what has happened, for 
 God's sake 1 " 
 
 " He is rather worse, suddenly 
 worse, but I think he was better again 
 before I left." She looked eagerly at 
 me, while her countenance seemed 
 blanched to the hue of the white 
 dress she wore. She began to breathe 
 shortly and hurriedly ; and I was glad 
 that the loud and merry music which 
 was playing, would, in some measure, 
 drown the shriek I every moment ex- 
 pected to hear her utter. I succeed- 
 ed, however, with Captain Alverley's 
 assistance, in conveying her to my 
 
 carriage, which I ordered on to 
 
 Street as fast as possible, for Mrs. St. 
 Helen's excitement threatened to be- 
 come violent. She sobbed hysteri- 
 cally. " What a cruel, cruel, wretch 
 I have been," she murmured in bro- 
 ken accents, " to be at the — the op- 
 era, when my darling is dying ! " 
 
 " Come, come, Mrs. St. Helen, it 
 is useless to afflict yourself with vain 
 reproaches. You thought, as we all 
 thought, that he was recovering fast, 
 when you set off." 
 
 " Oh, but I should never, never, 
 have left his bedside ! Oh, if I should 
 lose him ! I shall never be able to 
 
 look my " Thus she proceeded, 
 
 till, overcome with exhausti(>n, she 
 leaned back, sobbing heavily. As we 
 entered the street in which !-he lived, 
 she whispered, with evidently a great 
 effort to overcome her agitation, — 
 "Dearest Doctor, I see — I know 
 
32 
 
 THE DESTROYER. 
 
 what you must think; l)iit I assure, I 
 — I — Capt;iiii Alverley hail but that 
 niomeul come into the box, quite uii- 
 expocteHly to me, aiifi I was extreme- 
 ly vexed and annoyed." 
 
 I was glad that the carriage stop- 
 ping spared me the pain of replying 
 to her. Miss Churchill came running 
 to the carriage, as soon as the hall 
 door had been opened, and almost 
 received Mrs. St. Helen into her arms, 
 for she could hardly stand, her agita- 
 tion became so suddenly increased. 
 
 "Emma, Emma! I do assure he is 
 better : much, a great deal better ! " 
 said Miss Churchill, hurrying her 
 along the hall. 
 
 " O Jane, 1 shall die ! I am very 
 ill ! I cannot bear it! Can you for- 
 give me? " 
 
 " Hush, hush ! what nonsense you 
 are talking: you rave!" exclaimed 
 Miss Churchill, as we forced Mrs. St. 
 Helen into the dining room, where it 
 was sometime before she was restored 
 
 to anything like calmness. Mr. , 
 
 the well known apothecary, at length 
 coming into the room, to take his de- 
 parture, strenuously assured us that 
 the children were very greatly reliev- 
 ed, and that he did not now appre- 
 hend danger. This I was happy in 
 being able to corroborate, after hav- 
 ing stepped up stairs to satisfy my 
 own anxiety ; and I left her for the 
 night hoping, but faintly, that a great 
 effort had been made to snap asunder 
 the infernal bands in which Satan, 
 disguised in the shape of Alver- 
 ley, had bound her. It seemed, how- 
 ever, as though my hopes were justi- 
 fied ; for morning, noon and night be- 
 held Mrs. St. Helen at her child's 
 bedside, his zealous, watchful and 
 loving attendant, for upwards of a 
 week. She gave him all his medi- 
 cine ; with her own hands rendered 
 him all the little services his situation 
 required ; ordered a peremptory ' not 
 at home' to be answered to all com- 
 ers except Mrs. Ogilvie; and doul)t- 
 
 less banished from her busied bosom 
 all thoughts of Captain Alverlev. 
 
 The morning after I had brought 
 her home, as I have described, from 
 the opera, on stepping into my car- 
 riage, I saw a paper lying between 
 the cushions of the seat. Sup|>osing 
 it to be some memorandum or other 
 of my own, I took it up, and with un- 
 utterable feelings, read the following, 
 hastily written, in pencil : 
 
 " Will you, angel? condemn me to 
 a distant admiration of your solitary 
 beauty ? I am here fretting in old 
 
 's box ; for mercy's sake rescue 
 
 me. Only look down and nod, when 
 
 you have read this, at old 's box. 
 
 I shall understand, and rely upon it, 
 will not abuse your kindness." 
 
 I tore it with fury into a hundred 
 fragments, and then, recollecting my- 
 self, regretted that I had not enclosed 
 it to Mrs. St. Helen in an envelope, 
 with " my compliments," so that she 
 might be sensible of the extent to 
 which I was aware of her guilty se- 
 crets. Could there be now any doubt 
 in my niiud of the nature of the at- 
 tentions this villain was paying Mrs. 
 St. Helen, and which she permitted ? 
 On reading this infernal missive, she 
 must have " looked and nodded,^' and 
 so summoned the fiend to her side. 
 And now I recollected the falsehood 
 she had had presence of mind enough 
 in t4ie midst of all her agitation to 
 invent, in order to explain away his 
 being with her — that it was '* un- 
 expected " to her, and " vexed and 
 annoyed " her. I long debated with 
 myself whether I should communicate 
 to her the nature of the discovery I 
 had made ; but at length, for many 
 reasons, thought it better to take no 
 notice of it. I looked at her with 
 totally different feelings and ideas to 
 those with which I had ever before 
 regarded her. I felt as if her pres- 
 ence polluted the chamber of suffer- 
 ing innocence. Her uncommon beau- 
 ty had thenceforth no attractions for 
 
THE DESTROYER. 
 
 aa 
 
 my eye : I felt no gratificiition in her 
 gentle and winning manners. I did 
 not regret the arrival of the day fixed 
 for both the children, accompanied 
 by herself, to go to the sea side ; it 
 would relieve me of the presence of 
 one whose perfidious conduct daily 
 excited my indignation and disgust. 
 She returned from the sea side, I un- 
 derstood, as soon as she had seen her 
 children settled ; I say understood, for 
 I had no direct knowledge of the fact. 
 She gave me no intimation of the safe 
 arrival of her children at the sea side, 
 or of her own return, or how they 
 were going on. On our casual meet- 
 ing in Oxford Street, she certainly 
 nodded as our carriages met, but it 
 was not the cordial recognition which 
 I had been accustomed to receive 
 from her. I saw that she did not look 
 in good health, her face seemed cloud- 
 ed with anxiety. As, however, she 
 had vouchsafed me no intimation of 
 her return to town beyond the sudden 
 and casual recognition just mention- 
 ed, of course I abstained from calling 
 on her. I wondered whether it ever 
 occurred to her as being possible that 
 the note received from Alverley had 
 been dropped in my carriage, and so 
 come under my notice. She might 
 have recollected that she did not de- 
 stroy it, but rather, perhaps, deter- 
 mined not to destroy it ; she might 
 have asked Captain Alverley if he had 
 seen it, they might have searched the 
 box, and then Mrs. St. Helen's guilty 
 soul may have alarmed and worried 
 her with the possibility that such a 
 document might have found its way 
 into my hands ; and if it had, could 
 I then do nothing to extricate her 
 from the perilous circumstances in 
 which I conceived her to be placed ? 
 What right had I to interfere, howe- 
 ver keen my suspicions, however sin- 
 cere my attachment to her, as she 
 was, and to her husband? But might 
 I not endeavor to communicate with 
 General or Mrs. Ogilvie on the sub- 
 3 
 
 ject 1 Yet I knew nothing whatever 
 of him, and her I had seen but sel- 
 dom, and only at Mrs. St. Helen's ; 
 and besides, from the evident recrim- 
 ination that I had interrupted between 
 the sisters in law on a former occa- 
 sion, it was plain that Mrs. Ogilvie 
 must be aware of the light conduct of 
 Mrs. St. Helen; probably she knew 
 and feared more than I ; and so my 
 communication would not appear in- 
 credible. Still it might be taken ill, 
 and I resolved not to attempt so dan- 
 gerous an experiment. As for anon- 
 ymous letters, that odious system was 
 my abhorrence. Suppose I were to 
 write directly to Mrs. St. Helen, 
 braving all chances, and faithfully ex- 
 postulating with her on the dreadful 
 course upon which she was too evi- 
 dently bent] but with what benefit 
 had my former attempts been attend- 
 ed ? Suppose she should return my 
 letter with indignation, or even, in a 
 fever of fury, lay it before Captain Al- 
 verley? So, seeing no possible way of 
 interfering successfully between the 
 victim and the destroyer, I withdrew 
 from the painful spectacle, and endea- 
 vored to discharge it from my mind. 
 Still, however, in my intercourse with 
 society, I was from time to time pain- 
 ed by hearing rumors of the most dis- 
 tressing description concerning the 
 degree of intimacy subsisting between 
 Captain Alverley and Mrs. St. Helen. 
 Scandal was indeed busy with their 
 names, which at length found their 
 way into the papers of the day. Could, 
 for instance, the following be mistak- 
 en? " The eccentric conduct of the 
 lovely wife of a very gallant officer is 
 beginning to attract much notice in 
 the beau moadc. It is rumored to have 
 been such as to call forth an intima- 
 tion from a very high guartrr," &c. 
 while in one or two less scrupulous 
 newspapers, her name, connected with 
 that of Captain Alverley, was men- 
 tioned in the coarsest and most dis- 
 gusting terms. 
 
r;. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE E L O r E M E N T , 
 
 Alas, poor Colonel St. Helen ! — 
 if, indeed, the chances of war had yet 
 spared jrou : was this the fond and 
 lovely wife you left in such an agony 
 of grief, the mother of your cliildren, 
 she to whom you had confided so 
 much, from whom you were expect- 
 ing so enthusiastic a welcome after all 
 your brave and dangerous and glori- 
 ous toils ? Better would it be for you 
 to fall gloriously before yon grissly 
 array of muskets, amidst the bellow- 
 ing of your country's cannon, than 
 survive to meet the dismal scenes 
 which seem preparing for you ! 
 
 Alas, that I should have to record 
 it! Mrs. St. Helen at length grew so 
 reckless, the consequences of her in- 
 famous conduct became so evident, 
 that even some of the less fastidious 
 of the circles in which she moved, 
 found it necessary to exclude her. 
 Public propriety could not be so out- 
 raged with impunity. 
 
 It was on a lovely Sunday morning 
 May, 18-, on which, returning from 
 an early visit to a patient in the neigh- 
 borhood of Kensington, I ordered the 
 coachman to walk his horses that I 
 might enjoy the balmy freshne.ss of 
 every thing around, and point out to 
 ujy little son, who had accompanied 
 me, for the drive's sake, the beauty of 
 Hyde Park, at that point leading off 
 to Kensington Gardens. I could al- 
 most have imagined n)yself fifty miles 
 off in the country. The sun shone 
 serenely out of the blue expan.se above 
 upon the bright green shrubs and trees 
 
 yet cool and fresh with the morning 
 i\ew. With the exception of one gen- 
 tleman who had cantered past us a 
 few minutes before, and a tidy old 
 country-looking dame sitting on one 
 of the benches to rest herself from a 
 long walk to town, we encountered 
 no one. My little chatterer was mak- 
 ing some sagacious observations upon 
 the height and number of the trees in 
 Kensington Gardens, when a rumb- 
 ling, heavy noise indicated the ap- 
 proach of a vehicle at a rapid rale. 
 It proved to be a chariot and four, 
 coming towards us in the direction of 
 Cumberland Gate, tearing along as 
 fast as the postilions could urge their 
 horses. The side-blinds were drawn 
 down, but those in front were up and 
 enabled me lo see — Mrs. St. Helen 
 and Captain Alverley ! She was vi- 
 olently agitated, her white dress seem- 
 ed to have been put on in haste and 
 disorder, her hair was dishevelled, 
 she was wringing her hands, and 
 weeping passionately. He was so ab- 
 ."orbed with his attempts to pacify her 
 as not to observe me. I drew my 
 breath with difficulty for some mo- 
 ments, the shock of such a dreadful- 
 apparition had been so sudden. It 
 seemed as though I had met Satan 
 hurrying away with a fallen Angel! 
 
 So, tlien, this was her ei.oi-e.ment 
 that I had been fated to see ! Yes, 
 the final step had been taken which 
 separated that miserable and guilty 
 being for ever from all that was hon- 
 orable, virtuous, precious in life ; 
 which plunged her into infamy irre- 
 trievable ; and her husband! her 
 
I'HE DESTROYER. 
 
 35 
 
 cVildren ! Fiend, thou hadst tri- 
 umphed \ 
 
 My exhilaration of spirits, occa- 
 sioned by the beauty and calmness of 
 the morning, instantly disappeared. 
 It seemed as though a cloud darkened 
 the heavens, and filled my soul with 
 oppressive gloom. " Papa ! " exclaim- 
 ed my little son, rousing me from the 
 Tevery into which I had fallen, ** what 
 are you thinking about ? Are you 
 ■sorry for that lady and gentleman ? I 
 wofider who they are ? Why was slie 
 trying? Is she ill, do you think ? " 
 His questions at length attracted my 
 attention ; but I could not answer 
 him, for he reminded me of little Ar- 
 thur St. Helen, who was just about 
 his age. Poor children ! Innocent 
 offspring of an innocent mother, what 
 is to become of you ? What direful 
 associations will ever hereafter hang 
 around the name you bear ! 
 
 About eleven o'clock I drove thro' 
 
 Street, and on approaching Mrs. 
 
 St. Helen's house, perceived indica- 
 tions, even in the street, of something 
 unusual having happened. On draw- 
 ing up at the door, for i determined 
 to call if only to mention what I had 
 seen, I saw that there were several 
 persons in the drawing room evident- 
 iy agitated. The servant who opened 
 the door seemed quite bewildered. I 
 was requested to walk up stairs as 
 soon as he had taken up my name, 
 and soon found myself in the drawing 
 room, in the presence of Miss Church- 
 ill, General and Mrs. Ogilvie, the 
 Ear} and Countess of Hetberingbam, 
 and several other relatives and con- 
 nections of Colonel and Mrs. St. He- 
 len. They were all laboring under 
 great excitement. Mrs. OgiJvie was 
 perfectly frantic, walking (o and fro, 
 and wringing her bands, the picture 
 of despair. I addressed myself first 
 to Miss Churchill, who stood nearest 
 me. She took n)y hand, but sudden- 
 ly quitted it, overcome with her feel- 
 ings, and turned away. 
 
 " My dear Countess,^' said I, ap- 
 proaching the Countess of Hethering" 
 ham, who was sitting on the sofa, 
 conversing with a lady, her handker- 
 chief now and then raised towards 
 her eyes, but her manner still some- 
 what stately and composed, "I fear I 
 can guess what has happened, taking 
 a chair opposite to her. 
 
 ** Eloped, Doctor 1 she has posi- 
 tively ! We are all thunderstruck," 
 she answered, in a low tone. *' We 
 were preparing to go to church, when 
 the painful news reached us. We 
 came off hither, and have been here 
 ever since. I have not told any of 
 my daughters." 
 
 " Her companion, I suppose" — 
 
 " Of course that wretch Captain 
 Alverley. It is a pity he is to succeed 
 to the title and estates. The Ear], 
 by the way, talks of calling him out 
 and so forth. I'll take care he does 
 no such thing, however. Don't you 
 think General Ogilvie should do so, 
 if any one ?"' 
 
 "How and when did she go?" I 
 inquired, affecting not to hear her last 
 observations. " I called to say that I 
 suspected what has happened since I 
 met them this morninor early, in the 
 Park." 
 
 " Herbert ! " exclaimed tbe Count- 
 ess, in a less drawling tone than usu- 
 al, addressing the Earl of Hetbering- 
 bam, who was conversing witb Gene- 
 ral Ogilvie and another gentleman in 
 a low earnest tone, at the further end 
 
 of the room^ " Doctor says that 
 
 he met tbe fugitives this morning ear- 
 ly in the Park." 
 
 "Indeed!" exclaimed tbe Earl, 
 earnestly, as they all three approach- 
 ed us. I told them what I had seen, 
 and they listened in silence. 
 
 " Do you .think we could mention 
 the affiir at the Horse Guards? " in- 
 quired the Earl, turning to General 
 Ogilvie. " I have a great mind to 
 call on tbe Commander in Chief to- 
 morrow, and represent the infamoas 
 
36 
 
 THE DESTROYER. 
 
 conduct of his aide-de-camp towards 
 a distinguished l)rother officer ! " The 
 General and his companion shook 
 their heads, and the three presently 
 walked away again to a distant part 
 of tlic drawing room, where they ap- 
 peared to resume the conversation 
 which the Countess's summons had 
 interrupted. 
 
 " To tell you the truth. Doctor," 
 she continued, " I am not much sur- 
 prised at her turning out in this 
 way " 
 
 "Heavens! Countess, you astonish 
 me!" 
 
 " Her father, you know," contin- 
 ued the frigid Countess, was a very 
 B0-3() kind of character, and gave her 
 no sort of proper education. I have 
 had my daughters educated in the 
 strictest possible way, quite under my 
 own eye! Mrs. St. Helen I tried to 
 train, when she was with us for a 
 short time, but it was useless. I soon 
 saw it was in vain ; and she did my 
 daughters no good while she was with 
 thenj, I assure you." 
 
 " Why, surely. Countess, you never 
 saw anything improper in her conduct 
 while she was under your care ? " 
 
 "Oh, why, yes — I mean, not per- 
 haps exactly ; but to be sure the girl's 
 head was quite turned with the non- 
 sense the men talked to her, as they 
 do to every new girl ; they thought 
 her pretty." She paused, but I only 
 bowed. 
 
 " 'Tis a sad thing for us. Doctor, is 
 it not? " resumed the Countess, " the 
 papers will take care to get hold of it, 
 because of her relationship to us — it 
 IS really most unpleasant." At this 
 moment a servant entered and whis- 
 pered to Miss Churchill, and she, fol- 
 lowed liy Mrs. Ogilvie, presently quit- 
 ted the room. " I dare say that is 
 some message about the children," 
 said the Countess, in the same pas- 
 sionless tone and manner she had hi- 
 ilierlo prt'scrved •. how I pity them, by 
 the way, Poor things, it will be al- 
 
 ways flung in their teeth; they'll feel 
 the greatest difficulty in settling in 
 life; I quite feel for them! " sighing 
 gently. "I suppose, by the way, the 
 Colonel will find no difficulty, if he 
 should live to return to England, in 
 obtaining a divorce 1 But then the 
 exposure is so great ! " How long the 
 Countess would have gone on in thi» 
 strain, I know not ; I was heartily 
 tired of it : it seemed, so to speak, 
 utterly out of tune ; so I rose and 
 bowed, saying I wished to see Mrs. 
 Ogilvie before I left, as she and Miss 
 Churchill seemed extremely excited 
 and hysterical. 
 
 " You will not mention this affair 
 more than you can help, Doctor ! " 
 said the Countess, with great dignity. 
 
 "Rely on my prudence," I replied 
 carelessly, and quitted the room, per- 
 fectly wearied out and disgusted with 
 the tone and manner in which such a 
 dreadful matter was discussed by one 
 who ought to have felt a inost painful 
 interest in it. I directed a servant to 
 show me to the room whither Mrs. 
 Ogilvie and Miss Churchill had gone ; 
 and was, within a few moments, ush- 
 ered into the boudoir. How my heart 
 aches as I hastily cast my eye over 
 the numerous little elegancies scat- 
 tered tastefully about the room ; and 
 especifilly when it fell upon a l)e!iuti- 
 ful full length crayon sketch of Mrs. 
 St. Helen, which hung upon the wall. 
 
 "Oh, wretch!" exclaimed Mrs. 
 Ogilvie, observing my eye fixed upon 
 it ; and walking hastily up to it, she 
 stood for a few moments with her 
 arms stretched out towards it ; and 
 then burying her face in her hands, 
 wept as if her heart would break. I 
 rose and turned the picture with it» 
 face to the wall. 
 
 " My brother ! my brave and noble 
 hearted brother ! " sobbed Mr.s. Ogil- 
 vie, and sunk, overpowered with her 
 feelings, into a seat. 
 
 "Where is my mamma?" kept 
 continually inquiring little Arthur St. 
 
THE DESTROYER. 
 
 37 
 
 Helen, whom Miss Churchill was 
 clasping affectionritely in her arms, 
 while her tears fell like rain upon his 
 little head. He was the image of his 
 beautiful — fallen, mother. 
 
 "She's gone, gone, my level You 
 will never see her again 1 " she mur- 
 mured. 
 
 " But I'll go and fetch her, if you 
 will only tell me where she is." Miss 
 Churchill wept, but made no reply. 
 
 " Why do you turn my mamma's 
 picture round that way ? " he inquired 
 looking at me with a haughty air, one 
 ihat most strongly reminded me of his 
 guilty mother. " I love my mamma 
 very dearly, and you shall not do so." 
 Miss Churchill kissed him with pas- 
 sionate forvor, but made no reply. 
 Mrs. Ocrjlvie rose and beckoned me 
 to follow her, quitted the boudoir, 
 and stepped into the room adjoining. 
 ■"Oh, Doctor! of ali the dreadful 
 scenes you have ever seen, can any 
 thing equal this? I would rather — 
 indeed I would — have followed my 
 beloved brother and his wife to the 
 grave than lived to see this day! My 
 dear, brave, fond, generous, betrayed 
 brother: read it, if you cani It has 
 quite broken my heart! " and hastily 
 snatching a letter from her bosom^ 
 she thrust it into my hands, telling me 
 that Mrs. St St. Helen had received 
 jt only late last night, and in her hur- 
 ried flight, which it had perhaps oc- 
 casioned, had left it upon the floor of 
 ber dressing room. The letter was 
 from Colonel to Mrs. St. Helen^ 
 and was quite damp — it might be 
 with the tears of agony that hnd fall- 
 en from those who had read it. It was 
 as follows : — 
 
 Malta, April 10th, 18-. 
 ^' My sweet Emma ! Still two thou- 
 sand envious miles are between us 1 
 Oh that I had an angel's wing to fly 
 to you in a moment! But, alas, that 
 is what I have been wishing a thous- 
 and and a thousand times since I left 
 
 you, four long years ago. My lovely 
 Emma ! idol of my heart, and shall 
 we indeed be ere long re-united t 
 Shall I again clasp my dear beautiful 
 Emma in my arms, never, never, 
 acrain to be separated t Dearest ! a 
 thousand times the wealth of the In- 
 dies shall not tempt me again to quit 
 you ! I come home a little before my 
 recriment, being a little — mind, love, 
 only a little, of an invalid. Don't be 
 alarmed, my sweet Emma, for I as- 
 sure you, upon my honor, that I am 
 quite recovered. The fact is, that I 
 
 received, in the battle of A , an 
 
 ugly wound in my left arm from a 
 musket ball, which confined me to a 
 tent, and to my bed, for nearly six 
 weeks; and Lord , in the kind- 
 est way, wrote to me to insist upon 
 ray return to England for a year, in 
 order to recruit. I came overland, 
 and am rather fatigued with my jour- 
 ney. An important matter keeps me 
 at Malta for a week ; but in the very 
 next ship I start for merry old Eng- 
 land. And how have you been, my 
 dearest Emma? And how are Arthur 
 and George ? Why do you say so 
 little about them, and about yourself? 
 But I suppose you have got the com- 
 mon notion, that your letters are open- 
 ed by others than those they are di- 
 rected to! How I have guessed what 
 might be the features and e'xpression 
 of my little boys! I have never seen 
 George: is he really like me? By 
 the way, I have brought you some 
 beautiful diamonds ! I have almost 
 beggared myself (till I arrive in Eng- 
 land) to obtain them for my Emma. 
 How I shall delight to see them upon 
 you 1 
 
 " Unless something extraordinary 
 should happen, you will see me in 
 about a week after you get this letter 
 — it may be only a day or two after ; 
 and, my own Emma, I most particu- 
 larly wish that y^^u will be alone dur^ 
 ing the week immediately fiHowing 
 your receipt of this letter, for I must 
 
«^ 
 
 THE DESTROYER. 
 
 have you all to myself, when we meet 
 — as the Scripture has it, ' with our 
 joy a stranger intermeddlelh not.' 
 God bless you, my dearest, dearest 
 Emma! and kiss the dear boys heart- 
 ily for me ! Your fond, doating hus- 
 band, 
 
 " Arthur St. Helen." 
 
 I returned this letter to Mrs. Ogil- 
 vie in silence, who, with a heavy sigh, 
 replaced it in her bosom. 
 
 " She must have read it," said I, 
 after a pause. 
 
 " Yes," she replied, with a shudder 
 cf distrust and horror, " and if she felt 
 Iierself guilty, I wonder she survived 
 it! * * * 
 
 " What arrangements have you 
 r-iade with respect to the children ? " 
 I inquired. 
 
 She replied that she had already 
 given directions for their removal to 
 her house, where she should keep 
 them till iier brother's return; tremb- 
 ling as she uttered the last word or 
 two. * * 
 
 "I suppose you have heard some 
 of the many painful rumors as to the 
 conduct of Mrs. St. Helen lately 1 " 
 eaid I, in a low tone. 
 
 " Yes, oh, yes — infamous woman ! 
 But the general and I have been tra- 
 welling on the continent during the 
 last six months, or he would have ta- 
 ken these poor children away from 
 her contaminating presence, even by 
 force, if necessary. I did frequently 
 expostulate with her in the most urg- 
 ent manner, but latterly she grew ve- 
 ry haughty, and replied to me with 
 great rudeness even." 
 
 " Alas, I fear her heart has been 
 long corrupted." She shook her head 
 and sobbed. I mentioned the slip of 
 |)aper I had picked in my carriage. 
 
 " Oh, many many worse things than 
 th:a have come to our knonledge 
 fiince we returtjed from the continent. 
 Iler disgraceful conduct drove Miss 
 Churchill from St^ft^t,. ^SX^X,aI 
 
 months ago. Oh, the scenes even she 
 has been compelled to witness ! I9 
 there no punishment for this vile, this 
 abominable Alverley ? " 
 
 " Can it be true, Mrs. Ogilvie, that 
 the villain has had the execrable 
 meanness to borrow considerable 
 sums «>f money from Mrs. St. Helen? " 
 
 " That also I have heard ; that she 
 has wasted the property of my j)oor 
 betrayed brother anil their children, 
 in order to supply his necessities at 
 the gaming table ; but I cannot go 
 on, I shall go distracted ! " 
 
 I ascertained that very late in the 
 preceding night, or rather at an early 
 hour of the morning, Mrs. St. Helen 
 had returned from Vauxhall, accom- 
 panied, as usual, by Captain Alver- 
 ley ; and immediately upon her enter- 
 ing the house, the above letter from 
 the Colonel was placed in her hands. 
 Her guilty soul was thunderstruck at 
 the sight of her husband's handwrit- 
 ing. Captain Alverley, who entered 
 with her, opened and read the letter, 
 and would have taken it away with 
 him to destroy, had she not insisted 
 so vehemently on reading it, that he 
 was forced to comply. She swooned 
 before she had read half of the letter. 
 All I could learn of what happened 
 subsequently was, that Captain Al- 
 verly left about three o'clock, and re- 
 turned in little more than an hour's 
 time; that a travelling carriage and 
 four drew up at the door about five 
 o'clock ; but such was her agitation 
 and illness, that it was not till nearly 
 half pust seven o'clock that Captain 
 Alverley succeeded, after a vain at- 
 tempt to induce her maid to accom- 
 pany tliem, in carrying Mrs. St. He- 
 len into the carriage almost in a state 
 of inser)sibility. He gave the sullen, 
 incredulous servants to understand 
 that their n)istre.ss had been summon- 
 ed off to nieet Colonel St. Helen ! 
 She had not ventured into the room 
 where her children were asleep, in 
 blessed unconsciougae^, pf the fear- 
 
THE DESTROYER. 
 
 ^ 
 
 ful scenes that were then going for- 
 ward. 
 
 In most of the Monday morning's 
 newspapers appeared the ordinary 
 kind of paragraph announcing the 
 " Elopement in fashionable life," — 
 seme of them mentioning the names 
 of the parties by initials. One of 
 ihem alluded to Mrs. St. Helen's con- 
 nection with the family of the Earl of 
 Hetheringham, whom it stated the af- 
 flicting event had thrown into the 
 deepest distress," ifcc, an intimation 
 so intolerably offensive to the pure, 
 fastidious feelings of the Counress, 
 that the day after there appeared the 
 following paragraph. I give verbatim 
 the heartless disclaimer, the tone 
 and style of which may perhaps serve 
 to indicate the disiinguished quarter 
 whence it emanated. 
 
 " We have been requested, on the 
 very highest authority, to take the 
 earliest possible opportunity of cor- 
 recting an unintentional and most in- 
 jurious misstatement that appeared in 
 our yesterday's paper, concerning the 
 truly unfortunate and most distressing 
 
 affair in Street, and one that is 
 
 calculated to wound the feelings of a 
 family of very high distinction. It is 
 not true, but quite contrary to the 
 fact, that the lady, Mrs. ******* 
 was educated in the family of the Earl 
 of Hetheringham. She is certainly 
 a remote connection of the Earl's, 
 and when extremely young, was re- 
 ceived on a visit in his lordship's 
 hpuse till some family arrangements 
 had been completed ; but we have 
 been given to understand that the la- 
 dy in question and the noble family 
 alluded to, have been long alienated, 
 particularly the female branches." In 
 another part of the same pnper ap- 
 peared the intelligence that Mrs. St. 
 
 was a lady of great personal 
 
 beauty and accomplishments^ and had 
 
 left a family of six children." Ano- 
 ther newspnper informed its readers 
 that *' the gallant companion of a cer- 
 tain lovely fugitive was the heir pre- 
 sumptive of a peerage and a splendid 
 fortune." A third, "tliat the late 
 elopement was likely to afford lucra- 
 tive employment to gentlemen of the 
 long robe." A fourth, "that the hus- 
 band of a lady, whose recent, &c. 
 was an officer of distinction, had long 
 discarded her, owing to Jier light con- 
 duct, and was now taking steps to 
 procure a divorce," &lc. &lc. &c. 
 With such matters was, and generally 
 is, titillated the prudent curiosity of 
 fashionable society for a moment only 
 — probably, after a brief interval, it« 
 attention being again excited by inti- 
 mations that "the lady whose elope- 
 ment lately occasioned much stir in 
 the fashionable circles," had destroy- 
 ed herself, or betaken herself to most 
 reckless and dishonorable courses, 
 
 &/C. ; and that Captain A was, 
 
 they understood, about to lead to the 
 hymeneal altar the lovely and accom- 
 plished Miss , &,c. &c. This, 
 
 I say, is not an un frequent case ; but 
 not such was the course of events con- 
 sequent upon the enormous wicked- 
 ness of Mrs. St. Helen. 
 
 During Monday the deserted little 
 St. Helens were removed, accompa- 
 nied by Miss Churchill, to the resi- 
 dence of Mrs. Ogilvie, the General 
 
 continued at Street to receive the 
 
 Colonel when he should arrive, and, 
 in what way he best might, break to 
 him the disastrous intelligence of his 
 wife's infidelity and flight. As it was 
 uncertain when and from what quar- 
 ter Colonel St. Helen would reach 
 the metropolis, it was of course im- 
 possible to anticipate or prevent his 
 
 arrival at Street, even had such 
 
 a measure been desirable. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 T H K H IT S B A .N' U AND T H K CHILDREN 
 
 On the even'm(T of Thursday, a 
 post-chaise and four, covered with 
 dust, rattled rapidly round the corner 
 of ■ — Sffuare, and in a few mo- 
 ments the reeking horses stood panl- 
 mg at the door of Colonel St. Helen's. 
 Before either of the postilions could 
 dismount, or the servant open the hall 
 door, or General Ogilvie, who was 
 sitting in the dining room, make his 
 appearance, the chaise door was open- 
 ed from within, the steps thrust down, 
 and forth sprung a gentleman in dus- 
 ty travelling costume, his left arm in 
 a sling, and rushed up to the door of 
 the house. While his impatient hand 
 was thundering with the knocker the 
 door was opened. 
 
 " Is Mrs. St. Helen " he commenc- 
 ed in eager and joyful accents, which, 
 however, ?u(hlenly ceased at sight of 
 the servant standing, pale as death, 
 trembling and silent. 
 
 " Why, what's the matter?" stam- 
 n»ered Colonel St. Helen, for he of 
 course it was, " Ah, Ogilvie! "■ rush- 
 ing towards the General, who having 
 paused fnr an instant before present- 
 ing himself, now quitted the dining- 
 room and hurried up to the startled 
 Colonel. 
 
 " My dear St. Helen ! " commenc- 
 ed the General, his agitation appar- 
 ent. A mighty sigh burst from the 
 swelling bosom of Colonel St. Helen 
 as he suffered himself to be drawn in- 
 to the dining room. 
 
 " Wliat's all this?" he iiujuired in 
 a hoarse, hard whisper, as General 
 Ogilvie shut the door. He was for a 
 moment tongue-tied at sight of the 
 
 fong-dreaded apparition which now so 
 suddenly stood before him. TheCo^ 
 lonel's face became overspread with a 
 deadly hue as he made the inquiry, 
 and his right hand still locked that of 
 General Ogilvie in its rigid grasp. 
 
 " St. Helen, you must bear it like 
 a man and a soldier," at length com- 
 menced the General, recovering him- 
 self. " The chances of war" — 
 
 " Is she dead ? " gasped the Colo- 
 nel, 'without moving from where he 
 stood, or relaxing his hold of General 
 Ogilvie's hand. 
 
 ** No," replied the General, turn- 
 ing as pale as his companion. 
 
 " Then, what, in the name of God ? 
 tell me ! " whispered Colonel St. He- 
 len, his eyes almost starting out of 
 their sockets, while the drops of per- 
 spiration stood upon his forehead. At 
 a word spoken in a low tone by Gen- 
 eral Ogilvie, the Colonel started as if 
 he had been stabbed, and then lay ex- 
 tended upon the floor. The General 
 sprung to the bell, and shouted vio- 
 lently for assistance. The room was 
 instantly almost filled with servants. 
 One of them was despatched for me, 
 and another for the nearest surgeon. 
 The latter arrived in a very few min- 
 utes, and I was in attendance within 
 little less than a quarter of an hour, 
 for the man, knowing my carriage, 
 stopped it as it was entering the street 
 in which I lived. I found Colonel 
 St. Helen propped up in bed in the 
 arms of General Ogilvie, his coat and 
 waistcoat and neck-handkerchiefoiily 
 had been removed, and his shirl-col- 
 lar thrown open. The heavy snorting 
 
THE DESTROYER. 
 
 14 
 
 sound that met my ears prepared mo 
 for the worst. Colonel St. Helen was 
 in a fit of apoplexy. Within a min- 
 ute or two after my entrance the jug- 
 ular vein was opened ; that in the arm 
 had criven no relief Oh, that his in- 
 famous wife could have been by my 
 side as I gazed upon the lamentable 
 object before me ? Here, woman, be- 
 hold your handiwork ! 
 
 He had been ever foremost in fight 
 — he had braved death in a thousand 
 forms; the flag of victory had often 
 waved gloriously over him ; he had 
 quitted the field with honorable 
 wounds ; his grateful country wel- 
 comed her galbint disabled son ; his 
 affectionate wife, he thought, stretch- 
 ed forth her eager arms to receive 
 him ; after months of agony, on the 
 wings of love he had flown seven 
 thousand long miles to be — blasted, 
 as here he lay before me ' 
 
 Sad sights have I seen in my time, 
 but when one so sad as this? My 
 swelling heart overpowers me. Poor 
 Colonel, what can my art do for thee ? 
 
 And thou, Alverley, come hither 
 thou, for a moment, slayer of the ho- 
 nor and peace of a brave brother sol- 
 dier ! Quit for a moment the cocka- 
 trice, thy companion, to look upon 
 this victim of your united treachery ! 
 Oh, out upon thee, thy presence cor- 
 rupts the air ! Down, down to hell ! 
 But no, I rave ; society will presently 
 welcome you again, gay Alverley, to 
 her harlot bosom I 
 
 Tliough a large opening had been 
 made in the jugular vein, thro' which 
 the blood was flowing copiously, no 
 impression whatever seemed made, or 
 likely to be made, upon the violence 
 of the attack. I therefore recom- 
 mended opening the turgid temporal 
 artery, which was done, and large 
 blisters to be applied to the nape of 
 the neck and to the extremities, the 
 usual means resorted to in violent ap- 
 oplectic seizures. I waited for up- 
 wards of an hour, and was then obli- 
 
 ged to leave my unhappy, but perhaps 
 happily unconscious patient, in appar- 
 ently the same state as that in which 
 I found him. I paid him anoliier vi- 
 sit early in the morning ; still he lay 
 in extreme danger, having been bled 
 twice through the night, but without 
 any sensible effect. I willingly ac- 
 ceded to the General's desire for an 
 
 immediate consultation with Sir 
 
 , which accordingly took place 
 
 about two o'clock. The result was 
 that we expressed a strong opinion, 
 that unless a decided change took 
 place in an hour or two, the attack 
 would prove fatal. Why should I wish 
 it, I thought, otherwise ? What hope- 
 less anguish would be spared him 
 were he never to awake to a con- 
 sciousness of the tremendous calami- 
 ty that had befallen him? What could 
 life henceforth be to him ? How could 
 his grievous wounds be healed, or 
 even stanched? How could his wrongs 
 be repaired, mitigated, or concealed ? 
 What bitter agony would the sight of 
 his children even force into his heart? 
 I thought of all this, and for a mo- 
 ment did not feel anxious that success 
 should attend our strenuous efforts to 
 save him. They succeeded, however, 
 and in three or four days' time it 
 seemed probable that the unhappy 
 sufferer would live to become ac- 
 quainted with the full extent of his 
 misery, to drain, perhaps, the cup of 
 sorrow to the dregs. I was in the 
 room when his eyes gave almost their 
 first look of returning consciousness. 
 Oh, dreadful contrast to the gay and 
 happy man I last saw him before his 
 departure for India ! His hair was 
 now somewhat of an iron grey hue; 
 his complexion had become deeply 
 bronzed by his constant exposure to 
 the rays of an Indian sun. Despite, 
 however, his present extreme exhaus- 
 tion, and the sunken sallowness of his 
 countenance, it was impossible not to 
 perceive its superior air, the linea- 
 ments of that bold and resolute char- 
 
42 
 
 THE DESTROYER. 
 
 acter for wliicli CdIoiioI St. Helen had 
 ever been disliii(ruis:hed. But where 
 wns ilie wonted liic of lliose dark eyes 
 that were luuv directed towards nie 
 drowsily and unconsciously ? Was he 
 then aware of the cause of his illness, 
 or was the frightful trulli breaking 
 bitterly and slowly upon his reviving 
 Hiculties ? God grant that the latter 
 might prove to be. the case, or the 
 consequences might be disastrous in- 
 deed ! 
 
 For nearly a fortnight he lay in a 
 kind of lethargy, never once speaking 
 or apparently taking any notice of 
 ■what was passing about him. Innu- 
 merable calls were made at his house 
 and inquiries concerning his health 
 by a large circle of attached and sym- 
 pathizing friends. His Royal High- 
 ness the Commander in Chief sent 
 almost daily to know how he was go- 
 ing on. As soon as I thought it ad- 
 visable, I intimated my an.xious wish 
 that he should have the advantage of 
 a change of scene ; and as soon as he 
 was able to be removed, travel by ea- 
 sy stage.s to Cheltenham. He simply 
 shook his head sorrowfully, at the 
 same time raising his hand as if de- 
 precating the mention of it. Of course 
 I desisted. The next time I called, 
 his female attendant met me on the 
 stairs, and gave me to understand that 
 he had begged the proposal might not 
 be renewed, as he was determined not 
 
 to quit street. Before leaving 
 
 him that day, General Ogilvie follow- 
 ed me, and told me that the Colonel, 
 who had not once made any allusion 
 to what had taken place, suddenly in- 
 quired, in the course of the morning, 
 in a faint tone, where his children 
 were, and on being informed, express- 
 ed a wish to see them. After some 
 hesitation I consented to their being 
 brought the next day for a few min- 
 utes only ; the General having assured 
 nie that I could not overrate the for- 
 tiliirle of his suffering relative. "De- 
 pend upon it he will bear the sicrhtof 
 
 them," said the General, "better than 
 you imagine, though certaiidy Ida 
 nerves must have been much shaken. 
 How shall we arrange it? I should 
 very much wish you to be present, 
 Doctor, if you could contrive it." I 
 promised not oidy to be present, but 
 that, as I could easily arrange it, I 
 would myself call and bring Mrs. 
 Ogilvie and the children, and so it 
 was decided. The next afternoon, 
 therefore, about three o'clock, on my 
 return from visiting a patient in the 
 neighborhood of General Ogilvie's re- 
 sidence, I called there, but found 
 Mrs. Ogilvie on the point of going 
 out, not having received any intima- 
 tion of our arrangement. She instant- 
 ly, however, agreed to accompany us. 
 " And how are your little nepliews? " 
 1 inquired. 
 
 "Oh, they are very well," she re- 
 plied with a sigh ; " a child's grief is 
 not very deep or lasting; Arthur was 
 as merry the next morning after leav- 
 ing street, as if nothing had hap- 
 pened. Now and then, however, he 
 asks me where his mamma is, and 
 when he shall go to see her, or when 
 she will come here? But when he 
 sees me sometimes suddenly turn 
 aside my head, to hide the tears that 
 force themselves into my eyes, the 
 poor child thinks that I am angry with 
 him, and kisses me, throwing his arms 
 round my neck, and saying that he 
 will never ask to see his mamma 
 again. He soon, however, forgets his 
 promise," added Mrs. Ogilvie with 
 emotion. " Here they are at present, 
 as merry as they can be," she contin- 
 ued, opening the folding doors, and 
 walking into a room that looked upon 
 a pleasant garden. " Alas, that they 
 slundd ever hear of what has caused 
 all our .sorrow ! " 
 
 The two little boys were romping 
 about upon the grass plot in high glee, 
 running after and rolling over one 
 another. How like the elder one was 
 to his wretched mother ! The eaioe 
 
THE DESTROYER. 
 
 43 
 
 bright blue eye, the same beaut ifully- 
 fonned chin and mouth ! I dreaded 
 the efTect of his standing suddenly be- 
 fore his father. Tbe younger child, 
 George, as lively as a cricket, and as 
 brown as a berry, bore some little ge- 
 neral resemblance to his father. 
 
 Oh, how could your mother look 
 upon your little faces, and listen to 
 your prattle, and feel your tiny arms 
 embracing her, and forget that she 
 had borne you 1 That you were the 
 fruit of her womb ! That your little 
 lips had a thousand times drawn nur- 
 ture from her maternal bosom ! All 
 the myriad of delicious agonies and 
 ecstasies of a mother ! Her generous, 
 confidi; g, absent husband ! How 
 could she, knowing all this, recollect- 
 ing all this, deliberately surrender 
 herself to destruction, and prefer the 
 blighting companionship of a fiend, 
 an adulterer ! 
 
 "Now, Arthur and George," said 
 Mrs. Ogilvie as we approached them 
 in the garden, " you must be good 
 children, and go and get dressed, and 
 I will take you both out." 
 
 "What! a drive in the carriage? 
 I love the ponies ! " replied George, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Yes, my love, we are going to 
 take you to see papa." 
 
 " No, no, I shall not go there. I 
 don't like my papa. He has taken 
 my mamma away." 
 
 " No, child, do not talk such non- 
 sense ; papa has done no such thing. 
 Poor papa is very ill," replied Mrs. 
 Ggilvie, tremulously, " and wishes to 
 fee his little boys." 
 
 " I don't know my papa," said the 
 child, pouting, and sidling away from 
 us. " He's a very, very great way 
 off; but if you'll let mamma go with 
 us, then I don't care." 
 
 " Your papa," said I, observing 
 Mrs. Ogilvie's emotion, " does not 
 know where your mamma is." The 
 child seemed quite puzzled at all th.s. 
 " Will you go with us, then ? " he in- 
 quired, turning to Mrs. Ogilvie, 
 
 " Yes. love." 
 
 " Isn't my f ther a very great offi- 
 cer 1 " he inquired abruptly. " He 
 has killed, oh, such a number (»f peo- 
 ple, I am talk ! Do you think he will 
 like to see us ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed, Arthur, and he will 
 love you very dearly !" replied Mrs. 
 Ogilvie, with a faltering voice, leading 
 her little nephews into the house. 
 They were not long in being dressed, 
 and we were presently on our way to 
 town. I began to feel rather more 
 apprehensive of the propriety of al- 
 lowing the interview when I saw how 
 his mother was running in Arthur's 
 head. Suppose he were bluntly to 
 ask his father what had become of 
 her? I whispered my apprehensions 
 to Mrs. Ogilvie, and found them shar- 
 ed by her. She had not seen her 
 brother since his return from India, 
 and declared herself perfectly inca- 
 pable of bearing an interview with 
 him at present, even were he able to 
 
 receive her. As we turned into 
 
 street, the children became very rest- 
 less ; and when we reached the house, 
 Arthur looked up at it ap rehensive- 
 ly, and refused at first to quit the car- 
 riage. We succeeded, however, in 
 inducing him to do so, and in paci- 
 fying him, and both the children were 
 conducted into the library, where 
 Mrs. Ogilvie undertook to occupy 
 their attention, while I repaired to the 
 Colonel's bedroom, to ascertain how 
 he was. I found him very little 
 changed from what I had seen him on 
 the preceding day, except that there 
 was an evident restlessness and anxi- 
 ety about the eyes. Probably he was 
 aware that his children had arrived. 
 General Ogilvie, who rarely quitted 
 the chamber of his suffering brother- 
 in-law, sat in his accustomed chair 
 beside. I sat down in the one usual- 
 ly placed for me ; while my finger 
 was on his pulse, and my eye on my, 
 watch, the Colonel said in a low tone, 
 " They are come, are they not ? " I 
 told him they were below^ 
 
44 
 
 THE DESTROYER. 
 
 " Let them be brought up then, if 
 you please, but only one at a time," 
 said ho, a faint flush appearing on his 
 check. General Ogilvie immediately 
 left the room, but not without first 
 caslinir an anxious glance at me. 
 
 You are both, I can see, appre- 
 hensive on my account," he whisper- 
 ed ; " but I am perfectly aware of my 
 situation. He must not be long in 
 the room, however, I may not be so 
 strong as I think mjself " In a few 
 moments Gener?! Ogilvie returned, 
 leading in his little companion, who 
 entered with evident reluctance, look- 
 ing with some fear towards the bed 
 where his father lay. 
 
 " You are a very good child, Ar- 
 thur," said I, in a soothing tone, hold- 
 ing out my hand to receive him, in- 
 wardly cursing at the moment his re- 
 seml)lance to Mrs. St. Helen, which 
 just then ppeared to me stronger 
 than ever. " Come and ask your 
 papa how he i.s ! " The child came 
 and stood between my knees. Can I 
 ever forget the looks with which that 
 father and son, on this their bitter 
 meeting, regarded one another? Nei- 
 ther spoke. It would be in vain to 
 attempt describing that of the former ; 
 as for little Arthur, his face showed a 
 mingled expression of apprehension 
 and wonder. " Speak to your papa," 
 I whispered, observing him slowly 
 moving away ; " he is very poorly ! " 
 He looked at me for a moment, and 
 then faintly exclaimed, gazing at Co- 
 lonel St. Helen, " Papa, I love you." 
 The poor colonel turned his head 
 away and closed his eyes. In vain he 
 strove to compress his quivering lip ; 
 nature would conquer, and the tears 
 8oon forced themselves through his 
 closed eyelids. I wish Mrs. St. Helen 
 could have seen the unutterable an- 
 guish visible in his features when he 
 turned agiin to look upon the little 
 couMtennnce «o much resembling hers. 
 After giziiig thus for sf)me moments 
 in silence upon the child, he whisper- 
 ed, " Kiss me, Arthur." He did so. 
 
 " Ro you love me ? " inquired his 
 father. 
 
 " Yes, papa." The Colonel stretch- 
 ed out his arms to embrace his son, 
 but his left arm instantly fell again 
 powerless beside him. He shook his 
 head and sighed. 
 
 " Do you recollect me, Arthur ? " 
 he inquired. The child looked at me 
 and made no answer. 
 
 " Do you love your little brother 
 George ? " asked the Colonel languid- 
 ly- 
 
 " Yes, very much ; I'll go and fetch 
 him, papa; he will love you, too; he 
 is down stairs." Every fibre of Colo- 
 nel St. Helen's face quivered with 
 emotion. His eyes overflowed with 
 tears, and he whispered : 
 
 " I feel I cannot bear it ; he had 
 betler go. 
 
 " General," said I, " will you take 
 him down stairs? We fatigue Colonel 
 St. Helen." But he made me no an- 
 swer. He was looking away, and the 
 tears fell. I therefore rose, and after 
 lifting up the child again to kiss his 
 parent, led him down stairs, thankful 
 that he had not tortured his father by 
 any allusion to his wretched and de- 
 graded mother. On my return I found 
 Colonel St. Helen much exhausted, 
 and evidently suffering acutely from 
 the distracting feelings excited by his 
 son's presence. 
 
 He recovered, but very slowly, dur- 
 ing the ensuing month, from as severe 
 an attack of apoplexy as I had ever 
 witnessed. The grief that was prey- 
 ing upon his heart soon showed itself 
 in the settled gloom with which his 
 emaciated features were laden, and 
 which, coupled with his dangerous ill- 
 ness, and tlie violent remedies we were 
 compelled to adopt in order to subdue 
 it, reduced him almost to a skeleton. 
 He had indeed fallen awny most sur- 
 prisingly. A fine muscular nsan when 
 in health, he looked now as if he had 
 returned from India in a deep decline. 
 He would sit alone, and speechless, 
 for hours, and took even his ordinary 
 
THE DESTROYER 
 
 45 
 
 nourishment with visible rehictance. 
 When his children entered into his 
 presence — they were brought to him 
 daily — he received them with affec- 
 tion, but his manner oppressed them. 
 Alas! he had now no smiles with 
 which to welcome and return any of 
 those liitle overtures towards cheer- 
 fulness ; in the midst of any faint at- 
 tempt at merriment on their part, he 
 would rise and suddenly clasp them 
 to his widowed heart in silent agony. 
 The manner in which, at a former 
 period of his illness, he had rejected 
 the proposals made to him of a change 
 of scene, prevented its being renewed. 
 One morning, however, he suddenly 
 asked General Ogilvie if he could 
 give him a home for a few months ; 
 and on being assured of the affection- 
 ate welcome with which he would be 
 received, he expressed a desire to 
 
 quit 
 ing. 
 
 street on the ensuing morn- 
 
 Ile forthwith gave directions 
 
 for his house, with all its furniture of 
 every description, to be sold ; and the 
 clothes, trinkets, and such personal 
 ornaments of Mrs. St. Helen as were 
 in the house he ordered to be de- 
 stroyed. He exacted a pledge to this 
 effect from General Ogilvie. On its 
 being given he took his arm, and — 
 shadow of his former self! — stepped 
 languidly into the General's carriage, 
 drew down the blinds, and quitted 
 
 Street for ever. The day after, 
 
 in passing the house, I saw great 
 staring bills in the window, and a 
 board on the walls — " This House 
 to be Sold." To this day I never 
 glance at such objects without being 
 suddenly and painfully reminded of 
 the events which are detailed in this 
 chapter. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 PLANS 
 
 BUT WHAT NEXT? 
 
 I COULD gain no intelligence what- 
 ever of tlic destination or movements 
 of Mrs. St. Helen ; it was generally 
 supposed that she had gone and still 
 remained abroad, in company with 
 Captain Alverley. I expected in each 
 day's paper to hear of her having com- 
 inilled suicide ; and for that reason, 
 never omitted to cast my eye over a 
 paragraph headed with " Coroner's 
 Inquest," or " Distressing Suicide." 
 Not so, however ; she was reserved 
 for severer sufferings, a more signal 
 punishment, a more lamentable end ! 
 Captain Alverley made his appear- 
 ance in London about six weeks after 
 the elopement ; and in passing along 
 St. James's Park, he came upon his 
 Royal Highness the Commander in 
 Chief, who was returning on horse- 
 back from the Horse Guards. He 
 drew up, and motioned Captain Al- 
 verley, his aide-de-camj), to approach, 
 rebuked him sternly and indignantly 
 for the cruel and infamous outrage he 
 had committed, commanding him ne- 
 ver again to enter his presence. The 
 Duke rode off with a haughty scowl, 
 leavinw Captain Alverley apparently 
 thunderstruck. This incident found 
 its way into the next day's papers ; 
 and Captain Alverley, |)erceiving him- 
 self in general bad odor, threw up his 
 commission, and withdrew, it was 
 supposed, to the continent. The ex- 
 cellent Duke of York, indeed, evinc- 
 ed from the first the greatest .sympa- 
 thy with Colonel St. Helen ; and as 
 soon as he thought he might safely do 
 so, sent him a letter, by a distinguish- 
 ed general oflier, also a friend of the 
 
 colonel's, full of the kindlest and most 
 condescending expressions, and inti- 
 mating his wish to see him at the 
 Horse Guards at the earliest possible 
 opportunity. He added that he was 
 authorised to stale, that his JNIajesty 
 had expressed a sincere sympathy for 
 his sufferings, and the highest appro- 
 bation of his gallant conduct abroad. 
 The colonel sighed on reading these 
 flattering communications. 
 
 " Tell his Royal Highness," said 
 he, " that I am very grateful for his 
 condescension ; and the moment I am 
 able, I will attend him personally and 
 say as much." 
 
 "I was not exactly authorized," 
 
 said Lord , " to mention it to 
 
 you, but you are to have the — th ; I 
 heard his Royal Highness say as 
 much." 
 
 " Pray tell his Royal Highness," 
 
 replied the colonel, with a melancholy 
 
 air, " that I cannot accept it ; for I 
 
 return to India by the next ship ! " 
 
 " Good God ! Colonel St. Helen, 
 
 return to India 1 " echoed Lord 
 
 with an air of infinite astonishment. 
 
 " Can I remain in England ? " sud- 
 denly in(]uired the colonel, with a look 
 
 that silenced Lord , hastily rising 
 
 and standing for a few moments with 
 his back turned towards him, evident- 
 ly overpowered by his feelings. Nei- 
 ther spoke for a few moments. 
 
 " I cannot tell this to his Royal 
 
 Highness," said Lord , " I know 
 
 he will ask me everything that has 
 passed at our interview." 
 
 " Then tell him, my lord, my last 
 words to you were, that my heart is 
 
THE DESTROYER. 
 
 47 
 
 broken, hilt my will is not; I shall 
 go to India, if I live, and that as soon 
 as possible." 
 
 Lord saw that he was inflexi- 
 ble, and abstained from further impor- 
 tunities. 
 
 Three months had now elapsed 
 from the day on which Colonel St. 
 Helen arrived in England to encoun- 
 ter so fell a blight of his fondest 
 hopes, his brightest prospects ; and he 
 had made his final and gloomy prepa- 
 rations for returning to India. Not- 
 withstanding the sympathizing and 
 affectionate attachment of General 
 and Mrs. Ogilvie, had it not been for 
 the daily sight of his children, those 
 innocent, helpless, deserted beings, 
 whom he himself was about to desert, 
 he would have lost almost all sympa- 
 thy with mankind. His heart yearn- 
 ed towards his little sons, but his res- 
 olution had been taken, and was un- 
 changeable, to return to India, and 
 amidst the scenes of direful carnage 
 he had there witnessed, to seek in an 
 honorable death release from the ago- 
 nies he suffered. He arranged all his 
 affairs evidently on the basis of his 
 being about to leave England forever. 
 His purposes with reference to his 
 children might have been varied, but 
 for the fond and zealous guardian they 
 found in General and Mrs. Ogilvie. 
 It was not till within a very short pe- 
 riod of his departure, iha the could 
 bear to ask from the former a detailed 
 account of all that had happened. He 
 heard the name of Alverley mention- 
 ed in silence. He inquired for a while 
 where he was supposed to be, and ne- 
 ver again alluded to him. The name 
 of Mrs. St. Helen never escaped his 
 lips. 
 
 When he presented himself before 
 the Commander in Chief, he met with 
 a most gracious reception. His Roy- 
 al Highness shook him warmly by the 
 hand, and with a quivering lip as- 
 sured him of his sympathy and perso- 
 nal regard. 
 
 " Is your resolution to return to In- 
 dia, Colonel St. Helen, unalterable?" 
 inquired the Duke. The colonel 
 bowed ; his air and manner sati.sfied 
 the Duke of the nselcssness of expos- 
 tulation. No ; in vain were the in- 
 treaties of royalty ; in vain the pas- 
 sionate tears and embraces of his sis- 
 ter ; in vain the energetic remons- 
 trances of General Ogilvie ; in vain 
 were his children flung by his sister 
 into his arms and upon his knees in 
 an ecstasy of grief. His darkening 
 countenance told how vain were all 
 such appeals. His passage was en- 
 gaged in a ship quitting the Thames 
 in a few days' time. His servant had 
 already packed up almost all tliat was 
 to be taken aboard. The dreaded 
 morning arrived ; he tenderly em- 
 braced his sister and his children be- 
 fore setting off for town ; finally, as he 
 had determined, but only a few hours 
 as they supposed, understanding that 
 he would return in the afternoon to 
 bid them adieu for ever. 
 
 When he and General Ogilvie were 
 waiting in a back room at Messrs. 
 
 , the army agents, where he 
 
 wished to make some final pecuniary 
 arrangements, his eye happened to fall 
 upon a paragraph which he read with 
 almost a suspension of his breath and 
 a face suddenly flashed with excite- 
 ment. 
 
 " Ogilvie ! " said he, turning to his 
 astonished brother-in-law a counten- 
 ance that had quickly become white 
 as death, and speaking in a totally 
 different voice from any that had been 
 heard from him since his illness, "I 
 have changed my mind. I shall not 
 go to India. At all events, not at 
 present." 
 
 " I am delighted to hear it," said 
 the Generat, confounded at the sud- 
 denness of the information as much 
 as at the manner in which it was ex- 
 pressed ; " but, good God ! what has 
 happened? what has agitated you ? " 
 
 " I am not agitated," replied Colo- 
 
48 
 
 THE DESTROYER. 
 
 nel St. Helen, with a violent cfTorl to 
 speik c;ilnily, at the same time rising 
 from his chair, and folding up the 
 newspaper he had been reading. 
 "Can you spare tliis?" said he to 
 the clerk wliom lie had suiDmoned 
 into tlie room. lie was answered in 
 the alRrmative. " Then you may tell 
 
 Mr. to give himself no further 
 
 trouble about the business I called 
 upon ; be so good as to tell him that 
 I have made some change in my ar- 
 rangements. Shall we walk home, 
 Ogilvie?" They quitted Messrs. 
 's immediately. 
 
 " St. Helen," said General Ogilvie 
 as they left, " I protest that I will not 
 return home with you till you have 
 told me what has occasioned this ex- 
 traordinary change of manner and 
 purpose." 
 
 " My dear Ogilvie, you shall know 
 all ; read this," said the colonel, tak- 
 ing out the newspaper, and unfolding 
 it, he pointed out the following para- 
 graph : 
 
 " By the death of the Right Hon. 
 Lord Seckington, Captain Alverley, 
 formerly of the Guards, suc- 
 ceeds to the title and estates, which 
 are great, as well as the splendid ac- 
 cumulations of landed property said 
 to have been made by the late Lord 
 S., who has bequeathed everything to 
 the present Lord Seckington. He is 
 now abroad, but is daily expected in 
 Street." 
 
 " Well ! " exclaimed the General, 
 after having read the paragraph twice 
 over in perturbed silence, returning 
 the paper, " of course it is easy to 
 guess your intentions." 
 
 " Intentions ! " exclaimed Colonel 
 St. Helen with great vivacity ; " this 
 is the first time I have breathed freely 
 since my return to England." 
 
 " Do you, then, really think of 
 meeting this man ? " iiujuired the 
 General, gravely, after a pause. 
 
 " Meet him ? Do I intend to meet 
 him 1 Ogilvie, you vex me ! " replied 
 
 Colonel St. Helen, briskly and bitter- 
 ly, at the same time insensibly quick- 
 ening his pace. He dragged his com- 
 panion along in silence, ot such a ra- 
 pid rate, that they were half through 
 the Park before either — deeply en- 
 gaged with his thoughts — had again 
 spoken. 
 
 " Let me see, how shall I know 
 when he arrives in London?" said 
 the colonel abruptly, as if he had 
 thought aloud. 
 
 "Oh, there cannot be much diffi- 
 culty about that," replied the General, 
 who had satisfied himself of the hope- 
 lessness of attempting to dissuade co- 
 lonel St. Helen from his evident pur- 
 pose. *' I will do all that you can 
 possibly desire, since " — 
 
 " Dear Ogilvie, my dear good bro- 
 ther," said the colonel, with affection- 
 ate energy, " do you think 1 shall per- 
 mit you to be at all involved in this 
 affair. Mischief may come of it. 1 
 cannot deprive my sister and my chil- 
 dren of your presence, even for a mo- 
 meni." 
 
 " You shall not meet him unless I 
 am at your elbow," interrupted the 
 General with a determined air ; " I 
 can be firm, St. Helen, as well as 
 you." 
 
 "Ogilvie, Ogilvie, how perfectly 
 useless this is ! I do assure you that 
 my mind is fixed unalterably. It can- 
 not be; it shall not be. May I fall at 
 the first fire if I permit you to be on 
 the ground. I could not aim steadily 
 if you were there. No, I have got 
 my man. Darnley will" — 
 
 " I hate your professed duellists," 
 interrupted the General, with irre- 
 pressible agitation. 
 
 " They are made for such an affair 
 as mine," exclaimed Colonel St. He- 
 len, with a kind of cheerfulness that 
 was sickening. 
 
 General Ogilvie had never seen so 
 remarkable a change so quickly effect- 
 ed in any one. 
 
 " Have you thought of your poor 
 
THE DESTROYER. 
 
 40 
 
 boys 1 " said he, as they approached 
 home. 
 
 " Thank- God that my sister is your 
 wife, that you are my brother in law," 
 exclaimed Colonel St. Helen, in a 
 more subdued tone than that in which 
 he had been hitherto speaking ; they 
 cannot be better off! " 
 
 " This scoundrel has no such ties! 
 You don't meet on equal terms." 
 
 " Perhaps not exactly, but my bul- 
 let will spoil his pretty coronet too!" 
 He paused, and a grim smile passed 
 over his features. " Poor devil," he 
 added, with a bitter air, " I would 
 give a trifle to be present when Major 
 Darnley first calls upon him. It will 
 try his mettle, rather, won't it ? " al- 
 most laughing, but such a laugh. 
 
 " Really, St. Helen, this has turn- 
 ed you into a devil ! " exclaimed Gen- 
 eral Ogilvie. 
 
 "The best thing that the old Lord 
 Seckington ever did," said Colonel 
 St. Helen to himself, but aloud, as if 
 he had not heard his companion's re- 
 mark, " was to die exactly when he 
 did die ; the best thing that has hap- 
 pened to the new Lord Seckington 
 was, to become Lord Seckington ex- 
 actly when he did become Lord Sec- 
 kington ; and the next best thing was 
 that I should come to know of it just 
 when I did come to know of it." 
 
 " You are certainly, my dear St. 
 Helen, the tnost cruelly injured man 
 living," said General Ogilvie, after 
 they had walked for some minutes in 
 silence, " and nobody has a right to 
 interfere with you." 
 
 " I should think not," replied Co- 
 lonel St. Helen, in the same bitter 
 tones in which he had been all along 
 speaking. " Ogilvie," he added, turn- 
 ing suddenly and looking him full in 
 the face, " no treachery ! By your 
 honor as a soldier and a gentleman, 
 no interference in any way ! " 
 
 "I should have thought that such 
 an appeal was perfectly unnecessary," 
 replied the General, coldly. 
 
 " Oh, forgive me ! forgive me, Ogil- 
 vie! Remember my sufferings; I 
 was wrong, I know it." 
 
 " I have nothing to forgive, St. 
 Helen," replied General Ogilvie, with 
 a quivering lip. " By my God, I will 
 be true to you in every thing." 
 
 " And I will be true to myself, 
 Ogilvie. You shall see ! " rejoined 
 the Colonel, grasping his hand, and 
 shaking it cordially. " And now, 
 what must we say to my sister to pre- 
 vent suspicion ? " 
 
 " Oh, we must say that your ship 
 does not sail for a fortnight, or some- 
 thing of that kind ; it will be no dif- 
 ficult thing to deceive her, poor 
 thing ! " said the General, with a deep 
 si^rh. 
 
 " Hardy," said Colonel St. Helen, 
 addressing his groom, whom h:; had 
 sent for, as soon as he had reached 
 his own room at General Ogilvie's, 
 and putting two guineas into his hand, 
 " go directly and station yourself at 
 
 the corner of Street, and watch 
 
 Number , wl.ich is Lord Seck- 
 
 ington's. Say not a word to anybody, 
 but be on the look-out night and day; 
 and the moment that you see a trav- 
 elling carriage, or anything of that 
 sort, go up to the door, presently in- 
 quire who it is that has come; and if 
 you hear that it is Lord Seckington, 
 come off to me at the top of your 
 speed ; it shall be the best half-hour's 
 work you ever did in your life; ask 
 quietly, quietly, mind, to see me, and 
 tell me your news. To nobody but 
 ME, sir." 
 
 Hardy was a keen and faithful fel- 
 low; and in about an hour's time he 
 
 was to be seen lurking about 
 
 Street, in exact obedience to his mas- 
 ter's orders. 
 
 0!V<!^, 
 
ot> 
 
 flaYOHTeaa 3ht 
 
 fjr'^l -rrtii b! 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE 
 
 CHALI.ENGE. 
 
 What I subsequently learnt from 
 several quarters, 1 may state here, in 
 order to keep up the course of the 
 narrative, and the better to explain 
 the events which remain to be de- 
 scribed. 
 
 1 was right in supposing that Cap- 
 tain Alverley and Mrs. St. Helen went 
 direct to the continent; but of their 
 movements when there I scarce know 
 any thing. Her wild and frantic ag- 
 onies of remorse at the step she had 
 taken were scarcely calculated to in- 
 crease the attachment of her heartless 
 companion, whose satiated eye beheld 
 the beauty which had so long fevered 
 his soul daily disappearing. Even had 
 it been otherwise, had she retained all 
 the fascination and loveliness of her 
 manners, the novelty of the affair had 
 worn off; he had gained his object, 
 and she perceived his altering feelings. 
 To her guilty, affrighted soul, indeed, 
 
 "The hollow tongue of lime 
 
 was a j)er]ielu;il knell. Eiich stroke 
 
 realcd for a hope the less : the funeral note 
 Of love deep buried without rcsurrcclii)n, 
 In the grave of possession." 
 
 When he discovered the incurable 
 nature of her mentnl sufferings, that 
 whirling her about fr<M)i one scene of 
 amuscaient to another failed of its 
 object, he began to complain that his 
 funds were running low. lie had, in 
 truth long been greatly embarrassed 
 and involved, yet he had contrived to 
 appear possessed of all the wealth and 
 to enjoy all the luxuries and elegan- 
 cies that penniless young men offish- 
 ion so mysteriously secure for them- 
 
 selves. Now, however, the money he 
 had obtained from Mrs. St. Helen, as 
 well as a few hundreds that had bei^n 
 supplied to him by a brother reprobate 
 in order to carry on the intrigue, had 
 almost disappeared. He began to feel 
 himself placed in very awkward cir- 
 cutiistances. \Vhat is a pcimiless man 
 of fashion in Paris? Captain Alver- 
 ley besides was burdened with the 
 perpetual presence of a woman who 
 was weeping bitterly from morning 
 till night, frequently in very violent 
 hysterics, and who vehemently re- 
 proached him with being the author 
 of all her misery. He soon began to 
 sicken of all this. Was it for this he 
 had quitted all the pleasures of Lon- 
 don, and lost all hopes of advance- 
 ment in the army ? Paris was a very 
 pleasant place, and he could have en- 
 joyed himself there but for his unfor- 
 tunate and — as he soon felt and ex- 
 pressed it — most disgusting affair. 
 He therefore began to loathe the very 
 sight of his miserable companion. ' It 
 was unquestionably with a feeling of 
 keen regret that he tound her brought 
 home one night dripping from the 
 Seine, after an abortive atfeiiipt at self 
 destruction, to which his cold sarcas- 
 tic repartees had impelled his half- 
 tnadilened victin). The poor captain 
 was to be pitied : his bold and dashing 
 adventure had turned out most unfor- 
 timately. Instead of the brilliant 
 beautv he had reckoned on having se- 
 cured for at least a year or two iti 
 Mrs. St. Helen, he beheld it suddenly 
 withered and gone, and there was 
 ever with him a haggard woman, tear- 
 
THE DESTROYER. 
 
 <41 
 
 ing her hair, wringing her haniis, and 
 frantically teazing him with being her 
 destroyer. In vain he sought to es- 
 cape from it ; she would never leave 
 him ! He had returned to London lo 
 endeavor to raise funds; his unlucky 
 encounter with the Commander in 
 in Chief sent him back in fury to Pa- 
 ris. He had never felt himself in such 
 an extremity^ and lie determined, af- 
 ter much bitter reflection, that could 
 he but once get extricated from this 
 unfortunate adventure, he would ne- 
 ver again undertake one on so exten- 
 sive a scale. 
 
 Of a sudden, however, an express 
 from London brought hira news that 
 electrified him with delight : a delight 
 which, in the enthusiasm of the mo- 
 ■nient, he attempted to communicnte 
 to his gloomy companion. By the 
 death of his aged uncle he had be- 
 come Lord Seckinglon, the proprietor 
 
 of Seckington Castle in shire, 
 
 one or two other houses in different 
 parts of the country, and a s,plendid 
 
 mansion in Street ; with a rent 
 
 roll of upwards of ^25,000 ayear, and 
 not less than ^'200,000 in the funds. 
 At the first impulse of his generous 
 feelings, he determined to settle upon 
 Mrs. St. Helen the sum of =£500 a- 
 year, which he permitted her to . 'spend 
 wherever she chose : offering to give 
 iier a thousand pounds in addition if 
 she woiiJd not return to England. She 
 began, however, now to be unreason- 
 able, and affected to receive his libe- 
 ral proposal with consternation. 
 
 And was it really, then, possible, 
 that, after all he had said and done, 
 she was not to become Lady Secking- 
 ton ? Even if Colonel St. Helen should 
 lake successful proceedings for a di- 
 vorce ? Horror, horror unutterable ! 
 * * * * 
 
 The next communications that 
 reached Lord Seckington consisted 
 chiefly of pressing intreaties from his 
 solicitor, and that of his lamented un- 
 cle, the lute Lord Seckington, that he 
 
 would lose no time ni coming to Lon- 
 don, as there were many matters re- 
 quiring his innnediate attention. He 
 was glad to see their letters accompa- 
 nied with one that bore the hand- 
 writing of his intimate friend Captain 
 Leicester. He opened it and read 
 thus : 
 
 " Dear Seckington — 
 
 — Pshaw, how odd it looks! Of 
 course I congratulate you, as every 
 body does. Don't cut your old friends, 
 that's all. But I wish chiefly to say, 
 wait abroad a little, only till the ex- 
 citement of the story has a little gone 
 down. That d — d unhappy devil St. 
 
 H , is in town ; but I hear he's 
 
 going back to India in double quick 
 time. Would it not be as well to wait 
 till he's off, and the coast is clear ? 
 Eternally yours, 
 " F. Leicester. 
 " The Rt. Hon. Lord Seckington." 
 
 On perusing this well-timed and 
 friendly letter, it suddenly occurred 
 to Lord Seckington that he had cer- 
 tain various matters of importance to 
 settle in different parts of the conti- 
 nent ; and so he wrote to his solicit- 
 ors, infinitely to their astonishment 
 and vexation. He was preparing to 
 set off for Brussels two or three days 
 afterwards, when another letter reach- 
 ed him from the same friendly and 
 vigilant pen : 
 
 (Private.) 
 London, 8th Aug., 18 — . 
 
 " Dear Seckington, 
 
 " What the deuce is in the wind, 
 perhaps you c;in bettor guess than 1 
 can tell ; but I lose no time in writing 
 to say that Colonel St. Helen, who 
 had appointed to sail to India (as I 
 told you in my letter of the other dav) 
 and taken leave of every body in a 
 gloomy way, to peck an honorabJe 
 grave, &c. &c. dec, has suddeniv 
 changed his mind, countermanded all 
 
THE DESTROYER. 
 
 his arrangements, and stops in Lon- 
 don ! ! Every one is amazed at this 
 queer move. I have reason to know 
 that he had actually engaged his pas- 
 sage by a ship that started two or 
 three days ago, and has forfeited ail 
 the passage money. This certainly 
 looks cursedly unpleasant: are we to 
 look out for a squall? Do you think 
 he has seen that offensive, impertinent 
 paragragh about you in the papers ? 
 and is waiting for you 1 Is so, you 
 are in a d — d awkward predicament, 
 and I really scarce know how to ad- 
 vise you. It will hardly do to keep 
 out of the way a little longer, will it ? 
 
 Ask , and , and above all, 
 
 Count . Ever yours, more and 
 
 more. •' F. D." 
 
 As Lord Seckington read this let- 
 ter, his face gradually became as white 
 as the paper he looked upon. Sever- 
 al letters lay on the table before him, 
 unopened and unattended to. With 
 Captain Leicester's in his hand, he re- 
 mained motionless for nearly half nn 
 hour ; at the expiration of which pe- 
 riod he was on the point of going into 
 his room, and putting the muzzle of 
 a pistol into hi;? ear. Probably what 
 he endured in that brief interval 
 counterbalanced all the pleasures of 
 hisAvhole life. Lord Seckington was 
 a frightful reprobate, but he was no 
 coward ; on the contrary, he was as 
 cool and brave a man as ever wore 
 epaulettes. 
 
 But consider his situation. Here 
 he was, scarcely thirty years old, sud- 
 denly become a peer of the realm, 
 having succeeded to avcry ancient ti- 
 tle, and with all appliances and means 
 to boot ; all that could secure him 
 ' honor, wealth, obedience, troops of 
 friends" — in short, «»ccupying as 
 brilliant a situation as man could well 
 be placed in ; yet amidst nil the daz- 
 j:!ing prospect that was opened before 
 him, his eye lit and settled upon one 
 foil figure onlv — iliat of Colonel St. 
 
 Helen, standing at ten or twelve pa- 
 ces' distances from him, his out- 
 stretched arm steadily pointing a pis- 
 tol at his head. It was perfectly 
 frightful. 
 
 What would he have cared for it in 
 the heydey of his career as Captain 
 Alverley ; or indeed as be was only a 
 few short days before, desperately in 
 debt, driven from the army, disgusted 
 with the presence and stunned with 
 the shrieks of a woman he had long 
 loathed ; but now — Perdition ! The 
 cold sweat stood upon his brow, and 
 he felt sick to death. What was to 
 be done ? He could not keep out of 
 the way ; the spirit of a man could 
 not endure the idea of such coward- 
 ice : no, his coronet should never be 
 defiled by the head of a coward. So 
 there was no alternative. To London 
 he must go, and that without delay, 
 with the all but certainty, that within 
 a few hours after his arrival. Colonel 
 St. Helen would have avenged all the 
 wrongs he had suffered by sending a 
 bullet through the head of him who 
 had inflicted them. These were the 
 dreadful thoughts that were passing 
 through his mind, when the spectre 
 stood suddenly before him, Mrs. St. 
 Helen, who then happened to enter 
 his room : ail her beauty gone, a truly 
 lamentable object. 
 
 " Well, madam," commenced Lord 
 Seckington bitterly and fiercely, " I 
 am going to London to be shot at by 
 your d — d husband. He will certain- 
 ly kill me ; that is, if I do not first " — 
 The latter part of his fiendish speech 
 was lost upon Mrs. St. Helen, who 
 had fallen down in a swoon. He im- 
 mediately summoned assistance into 
 the room, and then quitted it, hastily 
 gathering up his letters ; but by some 
 fatality leaving behind him the one 
 which had occasioned him his horri- 
 ble agonies — Captain Leicester's. It 
 fell into tlie hands of Mrs. St. Helen's 
 maid, who communicated its direful 
 contents to Mrs. St. Helen, but not 
 
THE DESTROYER. 
 
 till after Lord Seckington had quitted 
 Paris. He hurried to his bedroom, 
 and after drinking off a large glass of 
 Cogniac, he dressed and set off to con- 
 sult with one or two "experienced" 
 friends upon the only matter that now 
 occupied his mind : whether the laws 
 of duelling would admit, under the 
 circumstances of this expected meet- 
 ing with Colonel St. Helen, of his 
 shooting at his antagonist in the first 
 instance, which would afford him, he 
 considered, the only chance he had of 
 saving a life he was just then particu- 
 larly anxious to preserve. 
 
 " You must give him," said Colo- 
 
 , a considerable authority in 
 
 such matters, " two shots, in my opin- 
 ion, and even a third, if the first two 
 have had no effect ; and then you may 
 do as you will." 
 
 " Phol" exclaimed Lord Secking- 
 ton, with undisguised trepidation. 
 
 ** Well," replied the Colonel quiet- 
 ly, "you may say, pho ! if you like; 
 but you ask my opinion, and you have 
 it, I have known it acted upon sev- 
 eral times, and never objected to ? " 
 
 " Is your friend a good shot 1 " in- 
 quired Count , a little fire-eater 
 
 as ever breathed. 
 
 *' I should say, in all probability, as 
 good as myself" 
 
 The Count shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "Ah, that is very bad! I think 
 you may shoot at your friend at the 
 very first, by accident ! " 
 
 *' That's not exactly the way mat- 
 ters are settled in England, Count," 
 
 interrupted Colonel , sharply ; 
 
 the vivacious Frenchman retorted ; 
 one word led on another, and that 
 evening they went through a little 
 duel scene of their own, Lord Seck- 
 ington being actually compelled to 
 stand second to his countryman ! On 
 returning to his hotel, he found the 
 cards of almost every one of his most 
 distinguished countrymen then resid- 
 ing in Paris lying on his table. He 
 turned sick at heart as he looked up- 
 
 on them. He found that Mrs. St. He- 
 len was still in a state of insensibility, 
 and he embraced tiie opportunity it 
 afforded him of preparing for his im- 
 mediate departure ; but not before he 
 had left sufficient funds to provide for 
 her comfort till he could send her fur- 
 ther assistance from London, if in- 
 deed she did not first receive intelli- 
 gence of his death. Early in the 
 morning he set out, with much the 
 same thoughts and feelings as those 
 with which a man might pass through 
 beautiful scenery on his way to the 
 guillotine. 
 
 Perhaps it might not be exaggera- 
 tion to say that he endured the tor- 
 tures of the damned; and when his 
 post-chaise and four drew up opposite 
 the frowning portals of his house in 
 
 Street, he stepped out of it pale 
 
 as death, and scarce able to conceal 
 his agitation from the obsequious me- 
 nials who lined the hall to receive 
 their new lord. " How long will they 
 be mine ! " 
 
 As soon as the bustle of his arrival 
 was over, and while the empty chaise 
 was being led away from the door, a 
 groom, who might have been observ- 
 ed loitering about the street, stepped 
 up, gently pulled the area bell, and 
 inquired if that was Lord Seckington 
 who had arrived? He was rather 
 tartly answered in the aflSrmative by 
 a bustling servant. The groom saun-i 
 tered carelessly down the street ; but 
 as soon as he had turned the corner, 
 he ran as if a pack of beagles had 
 been at his heels, and scarce ever 
 stopped till he reached General Ogil- 
 vie's. He succeeded in communicat- 
 ing his pregnant intelligence to Colo- 
 nel St. Helen without having excited 
 the suspicion of anyone in the house, 
 which colonel St. Helen quitted a few 
 minutes afterwards. 
 
 About seven o'clock the same even- 
 ing, a gentleman knocked at the door 
 of Lord Seckington's house. Having 
 been informed that his lordship was 
 
5^ 
 
 THE DESTROYER. 
 
 ▼ery particularly engaged, the stran- 
 ger desired to be siiown into the li- 
 brary, where he would wait his Lord- 
 ship's leisure, as he had a very press- 
 ing engagement with him. The ser- 
 vant accordingly ushered him into the 
 library, aod took up to Lord Secking- 
 ton the card of " Major Darnley." 
 He h:id not long to wait ; for in less 
 than five minutes the door was open- 
 ed, and Lord Seckington entered in 
 his dressing gown. 
 
 " Major Darnley, I presume? " he 
 inquired, politely advancing towards 
 his visitor, who rose and bowed. Lord 
 Seckington, who looked pale and fa- 
 tigued with travelling, apolotrized for 
 his delay in attending the Major, and 
 also for his dre.^s, on the score of his 
 not yet having had time to change it. 
 
 "I need only mention the name of 
 Colonel St. Helen, my lord," said 
 Major Darnley in a low tone, " to ap- 
 prise your lordship of the painful na- 
 ture of my errand.'' 
 
 " Certainly : I perfectly under- 
 stand," replied Lord Seckington, ra- 
 ther hastily. 
 
 " Of course, my lord, the sooner 
 this aflair is settled the better." 
 
 " By all means," replied liord Sec- 
 kington, " I have no doubt that my 
 friend, Captain Leicester, whom I 
 know to be in town, will act with you 
 immediately in my behalf. Probably 
 
 he is this moment at 's, where 
 
 you could hardly fail of meeting him," 
 looking at his watch. 
 
 " Perhaps your lordship will favor 
 me with a line addressed to Captain 
 Leicester, intimating the nature of 
 my application ? " 
 
 " Undoubtedly," replied Lord Sec- 
 kington ; and sitting down, he wrote 
 a few lines to the desired effect, and 
 folding up the note, directed it, and 
 gave it to Major Darnley. 
 
 " Probably Captain Leicester will 
 be with your lordship shortly : shall I 
 tell him that your lordship waits here 
 for him?" 
 
 " I beg you will do me that favor. 
 Pray, Major Darnley, let no time 
 whatever be lost," added Lord Seck- 
 ington, with a smile that it would 
 have been a lu.xury to a fiend to wit- 
 ness. He rang the bell, and ISL\jor 
 Darnley took his leave. The instant 
 that the door was closed, Loid Seck- 
 ington, after a sickening glance round 
 at the spacious and splendid apart- 
 ment, threw himself upon the sofa in 
 a .«tate of mind that it would be in 
 vain to attempt describing. 
 
 Having agreed to dine that evening 
 with one of his old friends, who had 
 succeeded to a dukedom since they 
 had met, and who had quitted Lord 
 Seckington only half an hour before 
 I\Iajor Darnley's arrival, it became ne- 
 cessary to write off immediately, and 
 announce his inability to be present. 
 He did so, and stated it to be owing 
 to very pressing engagements, and 
 the thought which had since occurred 
 to him that he ought not to dine out 
 till after his uncle's funeral, well 
 knowing that his own funeral might 
 probably take place at the same time. 
 It may be easily understood that he 
 was in no humor to renew the busi- 
 ness details which Major Darnley's 
 arrival had interrupted. He sent a 
 message to that effect up stairs to his 
 solicitor, to whom he had promised to 
 return, begging him to be in attend- 
 ance in the morning; and ordering 
 dinner to be prepared and served at a 
 moment's notice, he again threw him- 
 self upon the sofa. He was roused 
 from his dreadful revery about a quar- 
 ter before eight o'clock, by Captain 
 Leicester. He was in full dinner 
 dress, having been met by Major 
 Darnley, just as he was preparing to 
 
 go to the Duke of 's, where he 
 
 was to have been surprised by the ap- 
 pearance of Lord Seckington. After 
 his hurried interview with Major 
 Darnley, he had come off" direct to 
 Street. 
 
 " Well, Alverley — Seckington, I 
 
THE DESTROYER. 
 
 56 
 
 mean, you see it's just as I suspect- 
 ed," said he, hastily stepping up to 
 Lord Seckington. 
 
 " Yes," he replied, shaking him 
 cordially by the hand, and uncon- 
 sciously sighing. " May I reckon on 
 your services ? " 
 
 " Oh, of course : I am here on the 
 business now." 
 
 " Where were you going when Ma- 
 jor Darnley found you?" inquired 
 Lord Seckington, alluding to Captain 
 Leicester's dress. 
 
 "The Duke of 's." 
 
 "Ah, I was to have been there 
 too," said Lord Seckington. " They'll 
 suspect there's something wrong by 
 our both so suddenly sending refu- 
 sals." 
 
 " And let them ; they are not like- 
 ly to send us peace officers if they do 
 suspect. They'll only be devilish sorry 
 to lose the company of two deuced 
 good knives and forks — that's all." 
 
 " I have ordered dinner here to be 
 ready at a moment's notice," said 
 Lord Seckington, as the servant 
 brought in candles. He must have 
 observed the troubled and pallid coun- 
 tenance of his lord as he placed them 
 upon the table near which Lord Seck- 
 ington and captain Leicester were 
 standing. " You can stay to dinner "? " 
 
 " I think, perhaps I have half an 
 hour to spare," replied captain Lei- 
 cester — for duellists, like lovers, must 
 eat, it would seem -'- " but I can't 
 spare one second more, for I've en- 
 gaged to meet Darnley at 's by a 
 
 quarter to nine o'clock." Lord Seck- 
 ington rang, and ordered dinner to be 
 served immediately. 
 
 " This blood thirsty devil, St. He- 
 len," said Lord Seckington, as the 
 servant closed the door, " must have 
 been watching for my arrival ; Major 
 Darnley was with me in less than an 
 hour after I had got into the house." 
 
 " Very probably. No doubt he had 
 hired some fellow to lurk about and 
 bring him word of your arrival. You 
 
 know, my dear fellow," added captain 
 Leicester, " there's no disguising the 
 thing; we are likely to have damned 
 sharp work on our hands in the morn- 
 ing." 
 
 " The morning! I shall go mad if 
 I have to wait all though the night ! " 
 exclaimed Lord Seckington vehement- 
 ly. " D — n me, if I could not infi- 
 nitely prefer fighting tonight ; why 
 
 could it not be at 's ? You could 
 
 easily manage it, Leicester. You real- 
 ly must arrange it so. I shan't have a 
 chance if we wait till the morning." 
 
 " You know it can't be done," re- 
 plied captain Leicester as soon as Lord 
 Seckington had ceased. " It's not 
 sdon la regie — there's a method in 
 every thing, and duelling is nothing 
 without it. Darnley would laugh at 
 me, if I proposed it." 
 
 " Well, I am of course in your 
 hands. You must do as you think 
 proper," said Lord Seckington with a 
 sigh. 
 
 "I'll parade you ; let me see : five 
 or six o'clock, either will do," said 
 captain Leicester, thoughtfully. — 
 " However, we shall discuss every 
 thing fully tonight at 's." 
 
 "Did you ever know of such an 
 unhappy devil as I am, Leicester ? " 
 exclaimed Lord Seckington abruptly, 
 walking to and fro, "just now to be 
 shot." 
 
 " Ay, and for such a cause, that's 
 the ugly part of the story ; but what 
 does that signify ? 'Twas an adven- 
 ture carried on with the utmost spirit 
 — you could not command success, 
 you know : eh 1 isn't that the word ? " 
 
 " It's d — d hard to part with all 
 this," exclaimed Lord Seckington, 
 sadly, pointing to the fine library. 
 " Hell must be a joke to what I've 
 suffered since I got your last letter." 
 
 " I thought it would have that ef- 
 fect when I was writing it. But," 
 shrugging his shoulders, " the thing's 
 done now, and you must try not to 
 think of it. 'Tis worse than useless. 
 
 i>0 r|linJ»iT10« 
 
56 
 
 THE DESTROYER. 
 
 Make your will, and snap your 6ngera 
 at every thing, and every body in the 
 world. That's the way a man of 
 sense and spirit should meet death, 
 and then he conquers it. By the way, 
 if you were to make your will it might 
 be as well. There's an infernal heap 
 of money in the funds, you know." 
 
 *' O Leicester, don't torment me ! 
 1 shall do what is proper, you may 
 depend upon it." 
 
 " Well, my dear fellow, don't take 
 it ill. 'Tis no more than every sec- 
 ond should do for his principal when 
 he expects warm work. Of course, 
 St. Helen, you know, will try damned 
 hard to hit you ; but, after all, 
 there's no certainty, even with the 
 deadliest shots in the world." 
 
 "Oh, curse the !" groaned 
 
 Lord Seckington, coupling Mrs. St. 
 Helen's name with the vilest epithet 
 that could be applied to a woman. 
 
 " No, no, Seckington : you forget 
 yourself. I call that very unhand- 
 some; nay, it's ungrateful, it's d — d 
 bad taste," said captain Leicester, se- 
 riously. 
 
 " You should only know the kind 
 of life she's led me since we went 
 abroad," exclaimed Lord Seckington, 
 vehemently. 
 
 " Poor devil, you ought not to speak 
 of her in that way," said captain Lei- 
 cester with a grave air of displeasure. 
 " Pray remember, Seckington, that 
 whatever she is, you have made her. 
 It is not handsome to speak so of the 
 woman that has denied you nothing, 
 and lost every thing for your sake." 
 
 '* Well," exclaimed Lord Secking- 
 ton, after walking violently to and fro, 
 '• I suppose I may say that I wish I 
 had been in hell before I had ever 
 seen her." 
 
 " Ah, yes; quite another matter ; 
 but we mustn't have anything unkind 
 said of poor pretty Mrs. St. Helen." 
 
 •' Pretty ! By , you should 
 
 see her now. Pretty ! " 
 
 " Well, I hope you have settled 
 somethini on her." 
 
 " Five hundred a year." 
 
 " Devilish liberal, certainly. Would 
 she speak to me if we met at Paris? " 
 
 Lord Seckington made no reply, 
 but, with his arms folded, kept walk- 
 ing to and fro, heaving heavy sighs. 
 
 "Take my advice, Seckington: 
 make a brave effort and throw it all 
 off your mind. It can you no good ; 
 it will do you infinite harm. Fancy 
 yourself plain Charles Alverley, the 
 doged of duns; drop ' my lord,' think 
 nothing of your rent-roll or your fund- 
 ed property ; they'll be all the more 
 delightful if you escape tomorrow ! 
 Why do you provoke your fate ? Hope 
 for the best. Depend upon it you're 
 too good a fellow to be ordered off 
 just in the nick of time ; oh, it's im- 
 possible ! " 
 
 Lord Seckington grasped his hands 
 and looked unutterable things. 
 
 " You know, Leicester, it is not 
 death that I care for, come how or 
 when it may," said he, " I'm a little 
 above that, I should hope." 
 
 " Don't fear Boggy, then, eh ? '' 
 interrupted captain Leicester, with a 
 smile. 
 
 " Pshaw ! But, by the way , what am 
 I to do ? how often am I to receive 
 his fire?" 
 
 "Ah, I've been considering that 
 point a little. Why, I think twice." 
 
 "Andl" — 
 
 " Fire wide the first time, of 
 course." 
 
 " But I don't think it is quite such 
 a matter of course, Leicester." 
 
 " Oh, nonsense, it's as clear as day- 
 light : trust me." 
 
 " Really, it's devilish hard ; he'll try 
 to take my life. It's throwing away 
 my only chance. It's going out to be 
 clean murdered !" 
 
 " Seckington, put yourself in my 
 place. You know that what I say is 
 the correct thing. It must be so, or 
 /am not responsible. If nothing hap- 
 pens, of course he'll demand another 
 shot ; and then you may, perhaps — 
 hem ! — I don't say what you ought 
 
THE DESTROYER 
 
 57 
 
 to do, but I think I know what / 
 should do. And the same if a third 
 is asked for." 
 
 " Why the devil does not the fellow 
 announce dinner ?" exclaimed Lord 
 Seckington, violently pulling the bell. 
 
 " Hush, don't be so feverish. He 
 announced it five minutes ago. I've 
 been on the move ever since. I've 
 now only a quarter of an hour." 
 
 Here the servant made his appear- 
 ance, and Lord Seckington in silence 
 followed his companion to the dining 
 room. Both of them cast one signifi- 
 cant glance at the splendor of the side 
 board display, and, indeed, of every 
 thing about them. 
 
 " The first time you have ever done 
 the honors here, I presume? " said 
 captain Leicester, as he took his seat. 
 
 " It is probably the last," thought 
 Lord Seckington. Alas! what would 
 he have given at that moment to undo 
 what he had done ; to have begun no- 
 thing of which he had not well con- 
 sidered the end ; never to have blast- 
 ed the happy home of his brave bro- 
 ther soldier ; to escape from the mor- 
 tal thraldom he was now enduring. 
 Perhaps, had he been calm enough, a 
 lesson of his earlier days might have 
 recurred to him before the fearful les- 
 son of the ensuing morning ! 
 
 " Audire est opera pretium, procedere recte 
 Qui moechis non vultis — ut omni parti la- 
 
 borent ! 
 Utque illis multo corrupta dolore voluptas, 
 Atque base rara, cadat dura inter saepe pe- 
 
 ricla ! " 
 
 -'.R 
 
 M'-)| /I 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE DUEL 
 
 Ir was settled by llie seconds tliat 
 the meeting should lake place at five 
 o'clock on the ensuing morning in 
 Battersea Fields, and as both of them 
 anticipated its turning out a desperate 
 atFair, they made all necessary ar- 
 rangements to meet contingencies, 
 providing for the instant flight of the 
 survivor and themselves, or, it might 
 be, of themselves alone, in the event 
 of anything fatal occurring. Two 
 experienced surgeons also were in at- 
 tendance. Their arrangements, in 
 short, were admirably made, for they 
 were both of them somewhat experi- 
 enced in such matter.s. Within a 
 very moments of each other's arrival 
 were the two hostile parties in the 
 field. Both Colonel St. Helen and 
 Lord Seckington were very finely 
 made men, and of a most gentlemanly 
 appearance. The former was dressed 
 in a blue surtout and light trowsers ; 
 the latter in black, black from head 
 to foot, not a spot of color about him, 
 nothing that might possibly serve to 
 point the weapon of his antagonist : 
 a precaution of his thoughtful second 
 of which he had readily availed him- 
 self, but which was totally disregarded 
 by Colonel St. Helen. The process 
 of loading was soon got through ; the 
 distance, ten paces, duly stepped out 
 by Major Darnley ; and there Lord 
 Seckington stood, in fearful contigu- 
 ity, in the immediate presence of his 
 irreparably injured and mortal foe. 
 Lord Seckington did not attempt to 
 s"ustaiu or return the dreadful look 
 with which Colonel St. Helen regard- 
 ed him. Pistols were (juickly placed 
 
 in their hands; the seconds withdrew 
 to about a dozen paces. 
 
 "Gentlemen, are you ready? — 
 Fire!" exclaimed Major Darnley. 
 
 Both pistols were discharged as he 
 uttered the last word, and the princi- 
 pals remained standing unhurt. Lord 
 Seckington fired as he had been en- 
 joined, while colonel St. Helen's ball 
 whistled closely past the chin of his 
 opponent. 
 
 "Are you satisfied?" inquired 
 captain Leicester. 
 
 " By no means," replied Major 
 Darnley. 
 
 They loaded again ; again with- 
 drew, having placed fresh pistols in 
 the hands of their respective princi- 
 pals ; again was the word given, again 
 both fired simultaneously, but again 
 without effect. It was evident that 
 this time Lord Seckington had fol- 
 lowed the example of his opponent, 
 for his ball passed close behind colo- 
 nel St. Helen's shoulder. 
 
 " I presume you are now satisfied ? " 
 inquired captain Leicester. 
 
 " Certainly not," replied Major 
 Darnley. " I must insist upon a third 
 shot." 
 
 " I really cannot permit it " — 
 
 " Load again ! " exclaimed Lord 
 Seckington in a low tone ; and the 
 seconds resumed their gloomy func- 
 tions. 
 
 A third time their principals stood 
 awaiting their signal, and as the word 
 " Fire " escaped from the lips of 
 Major Darnley, both were observed 
 to take deliberate aim. Neither fired 
 till a second or two after the word had 
 
THE DESTROYER. 
 
 59 
 
 been uttered, when their pistols flash- 
 ed together, and Lord Seckington 
 prung ui)wards, and instantly lay 
 extended upon the ground. Colonel 
 St. Helen's ball appeared to have 
 passed through the liead of his oppo- 
 nent, while he himself, still convul- 
 sively grasping his weapon, remained 
 standing, looking silently and grimly 
 at his prostrate antagonist. 
 
 "Fly! For God's sake, fly ! " 
 exclaimed Major Darnley, looking 
 towards colonel St. Helen from beside 
 the insensible figure of Lord Seck- 
 ington. 
 
 " Is he killed ? " whispered colonel 
 St. Helen, as Major Darnley rushed 
 up to him, repeating his intreaties. 
 
 " Yes, yes, I fear he is," replied 
 the Major. " Why, St. Helen ! St. 
 Helen ! are you hit ! " Rushing for- 
 ward, he caught the colonel in his 
 arms, and both fell together on the 
 ground. 
 
 The surgeon who had accompanied 
 him to the field was instantly at big 
 
 side, and pronounced Colonel St. He- 
 len to have had a fit of ajMiploxy. 
 Lord Seckington s ball had all l)ut 
 touched the breast of Colonel St. He- 
 len, who with truer and more deadly 
 aim had so directed his ball, iliat it 
 passed right through the bonrs of the 
 nose, immediately beneath the eye- 
 brows, carrying away nltnost the whole 
 of the nasal bones. Lord Seckington 
 was not dead, though perfectly insen- 
 sible ; the wound he had received was 
 one that, if he survived, would occa- 
 sion him the most frightful disfigure- 
 ment for life. He was carried insen- 
 sible to his carriage, a handkerchief 
 having been thrown over his face, and 
 hurried off at the top speed of his four 
 
 horses to Street. It was found 
 
 necessary to bleed Colonel St. Helen 
 on the spot from both arms, and as 
 soon as the incisions had been hastily 
 bandaged up, he was with difficulty 
 conveyed to his carriage, and taken 
 home to General Ogilvie's, a dismal 
 spectacle! 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE DESTROYER AND HIS VICTIM CONCLUSION. 
 
 A SHORT time before the carriage 
 containing Lord Seckinglon reached 
 
 Street, a post-chaise drew up 
 
 opposite to his door, in which were 
 two females, one of whom appeared 
 violently agitated. 
 
 " Knock and ring ! — ring hard ! 
 open the chaise door ; make haste ! " 
 exclaimed one of them in a breath ; 
 and as soon as the hall door was 
 thrown open by the alarmed porter — 
 for all the servants had suspicion of 
 the dreadful nature of the engagement 
 which had taken Lord Seckington 
 away so early in a carriage and four, 
 and were now awaiting his return in 
 the greatest trepidation, she rushed in. 
 " Is Lord — Lord Seckington — is 
 he at home ? " she gasped. 
 
 " Yes — no," replied the affrighted 
 porter in a breath. " Do you know 
 anything about his lordship?" By 
 this time the valet, who had accom- 
 panied him to France, and had re- 
 turried with him, made his appearance, 
 and whispered to the porter, who then, 
 in a somewhat less respectful tone, 
 inquired, " Does his lord:?hip expect 
 you, ma'am? " 
 
 " No, my lord does not, I can an- 
 swer for that," interposed the valet; 
 " he thinks you're at this moment in 
 Paris." 
 
 " Silence, sir ! show me instantly 
 into the diningroom," said the lady, 
 as indignantly as her violent agitation 
 would admit of. 
 
 " Excuse me, ma'am," said the por- 
 ter, placing himself between her and 
 the diningroom door, " I — I cannot 
 admit you. Are you a relation of his 
 lordship's or what ? What's your 
 business here ? " 
 
 " Hinder me at your peril, sirrah! 
 exclaimed Mrs. St. Helen, for she it 
 was, with all her naturally command- 
 
 ing tone and manner, and at the same 
 time pushing him gently aside, with- 
 out further opposition she entered the 
 diningroom. 
 
 " Order in my maid from the 
 chaise," said Mrs. St. Helen, sinking 
 exhausted into the nearest chair scarce 
 able to stand, or to see whether her 
 orders were attended to. There was 
 a sudden muster of servants in the hall 
 for a few moments ; and after a hur- 
 ried conversation together, the dining 
 room door was opened by the valet. 
 
 " I hope, ma'am, you won't make it 
 necessary, ma'am, for us to do our 
 duty. I know, ma'am, who you are," 
 he commenced with a determined air. 
 
 "Audacious wretch!" exclaimed 
 Mrs. St. Helen, roused for a moment 
 by his extraordinary insolence, ** if 
 you don't instantly leave this room, 
 sir " — 
 
 " Ah, ma'am, leave the room ? Pray, 
 ma'am, are you mistress here ? I leave 
 the room, ma'am ? You will leave it 
 first, ma'am, I can tell you, if it comes 
 to that — that's flat!" he continued, 
 pushing wider open the door. " Do 
 you think, ma'am, I'm going to be 
 talked to in this way by you? I know 
 who you are, ma'am, quite well. Do 
 you think I hadn't my eyes and my 
 ears open at Paris? My Lord's done 
 the handsome thing by you, and you 
 ousht not to come following him about 
 the town in this way ; ah, ma'am, you 
 may look, but I fancy my lord's done 
 with you ; he's got other fish to fry, 
 just now, believe me." At that mo- 
 ment a vehicle was heard approaching 
 rapidly, and a hubbub in the hall 
 drew the valet thither. " Drive away 
 that chaise ! " exclaimed half a dozen 
 voices in the street, and Lord Seck- 
 ington's carriage drove up to the door. 
 Mrs. St. Helen sprung to the window, 
 
THE DESTROYER. 
 
 61 
 
 hearing her chaise ordered away, ex- 
 pecting some new insult was prepar- 
 ing for her; and beheld the miserable 
 figure of Lord Seckington in the act 
 of being carried out of the carriage, 
 his liead covered over with a blood- 
 spotted white handkerchief She 
 rushed from the diningroom, and, with 
 a piercing shriek, was flying down the 
 steps, when one of the agitated ser- 
 vants, either designedly or accident- 
 ally, tripped her foot, exclaiming .it 
 the same time, " Get out of the way, 
 
 you d — d -! " and she fell with 
 
 her forehead upon the corner of one 
 of thesteps, where slie lay insensible 
 and disregarded till Lord Seckington 
 had been carried in, when the hall 
 door was closed. There she might 
 have continued but for the humanity 
 of one or two persons in the crowd 
 that had gathered round Lord Seck- 
 ington's carriage. They raised her 
 from the ground ; and having been 
 informed from the area that she did not 
 belong there, and that they knew no- 
 thing whatever about her, they carried 
 her, still insensible from the stunning 
 effects of her fall and of her violent 
 mental agitation, to the nearest public 
 house, whither her attendant in the 
 chaise followed her. From the repre- 
 sentations and intreaties of the latter, 
 the surly publican consented toreceive 
 Mrs. St. Helen for the present into his 
 house, and a medical man was sent for. 
 This was the once beautiful, happy, 
 innocent wife and mother, Emma St. 
 Helen, who had torn herself from her 
 hapless children, her affectionate hus- 
 band ; who had opened her foolish and 
 guilty ear and heart to the tempter ; 
 who had fled from the pure arms of 
 her husband to the blasting serpent- 
 like embraces of an adulterer : who 
 could pity her ? Here, discarded by 
 the menials of her seducer, she lay 
 dishonored in her extremity among 
 low and unwilling mercenaries; her 
 beauty entirely gone ; wasted to a 
 skeleton ; heart-broken ; paralysed 
 with the dreadful spectacle of her 
 
 dead paramor, whose hand had, per- 
 liaps, that morning, too, been dyed 
 with the blood of lier husband! 
 
 It seemed that, as soon as ever she 
 recovered her senses when at Paris, 
 and discovered the departure of Lord 
 Seckington, and learned from her maid 
 the too probable object of his abrupt 
 disappearance, she determined on fol- 
 lowing him, and engaged a passage in 
 the very next conveyance that started, 
 so as, by travelling night and day, to 
 
 reach Street the very morning 
 
 after Lord Seckington's arrival. 
 
 1 was culled in to attend Colonel St. 
 Helen about ten o'clock, and found 
 him in almost precisely similar cir- 
 cumstances to those in which he had 
 been placed when I formerly attended 
 him, oilly that the present was a far 
 more serious attack, and the probabi- 
 lity of its fatal termination infinitely 
 greater. All our efforts to relieve the 
 laboring brain proved unavailing, and 
 we all gave up the case in despair. 
 On the Saturday evening after his fa- 
 tal meeting with Lord Seckington, I 
 was returning on horseback from a vi- 
 sit to a distant patient residing about 
 two miles beyond General Ogilvie's 
 house, and determined to call in to 
 inquire after Colonel St. Helen, if he 
 yet survived. When within a few 
 yards of the house, 1 overtook two men 
 carrying a coffin on their backs. I 
 stopped my horse ; my conjectures 
 were right ; they opened the General's 
 gate, and went up to the house. So it 
 was at length all over! Poor, broken- 
 hearted St. Helen, victim of the perfi- 
 dy of the wife of your bosom, of the 
 villainy of your brother soldier, your 
 sorrows were at length ended. After 
 pausing for a few moments I despatch- 
 ed my groom, desiring him to inquire 
 whether they wished to see me. The 
 General sent back word that he par- 
 ticularly wished to see me, and I dis- 
 mounted. He met me at the door, 
 and with the utmost grief visible in his 
 countenance and manner, told me the 
 event that had taken place. I follow. 
 
^2 
 
 THE DESTROYER. 
 
 pd him into the ranm we had jiut 
 quitted, and we sat d«)\Mi toneiher. 
 Colonel St. Helen expired tliat day 
 iibout twelve o'clock, only an hour 
 after I had been with him. "He lay," 
 said the General, " in the same state 
 in which vou left him, almost to the 
 last, in a dull stupor. I was sitting on 
 one side of the bed, and Mrs. Oijilvie, 
 contrary to my wishes, seein<i her ex- 
 cessive agitation, entered the room I 
 hid a little before insisted upon iier 
 quitting, and resumed thfseat she had 
 before occupied on the bedside. The 
 noise she made seemed to rouse Jiim 
 slightly fronj his lethargy. He slowly 
 opened his eyes, the first time during 
 his illness, and looked dully at her ; I 
 think his lips seemed to move, and on 
 bending my ear till it almost reached 
 ihem. I think I heard the word ' Em- 
 ma.' His head sunk back upon the 
 pillow, he breathed heavily for a mo- 
 ment or two, and St. Helen was no 
 more ! No doubt," continued the Ge- 
 neral, with great emotion, " he had a 
 confused notion that it was Mrs. St. 
 Helen w'ho was sitting beside him : 
 alas, that such a polluted being should 
 have troubled his last thoughts ! Yet 
 there seemed no anger or disgust in 
 his manner; if it had any character 
 at all, it was one of forgiveness ! " 
 
 He was buried at , and there 
 
 was scarcely an officer of distinction 
 in Londoti that did not insist upon 
 following him to the grave. The kind 
 hearted Commander in Chief shed 
 tears, I understood, when he heard of 
 his death. He beipieathed his fortune 
 to his children equfdly, leaving Gene- 
 ral and Mrs. Ogilvie their guardians, 
 whom he also empowered to allow 
 Mrs. St. Helen, should she ever re- 
 quire it, such a sum as woidd place 
 her out of the reach of destitution. 
 The will vva.s diited only the <lay be- 
 fore that on which he fuught with 
 Lord Seckington. 
 
 I regret to h ive to mention that 
 name again, and shall dismi.ss it briefly 
 and for ever I did not attend him, 
 
 but heard several details concerning 
 him from those who did. It would 
 perhaps have been mercy had Colonel 
 St. Helen's ball passed into his brain 
 and deprived him of life on the spot. 
 It had utterly destroyed the nasal 
 bones ; and it is impossible to conceive 
 a more repulsive object than he must 
 have presented to every beholder dur- 
 ing the remainer of his day.s. He 
 endured intolerable agony for many 
 months from his wound ; and when at 
 length, through the carelessness of 
 one of his attendants, he suddenly 
 obtained a sight of his countenance in 
 the glass, the dreadful and irremedia- 
 ble disfigurement he had sustained 
 drcn'e liim almost to madness. He 
 gnashed his teeth, and yelled the most 
 fearful and blaspliennms imprecations, 
 and, in short, to such a pitch of fren- 
 zy was he driven by it, that it was 
 found necessary to place him for some 
 time under constraint, lest he should 
 lay violent hands upon himself. He 
 gradually, however, became calmer, 
 and appeared likely in time to become 
 reconciled to his misfortune. Colonel 
 St. Helen was dead : that was some 
 gratification ! Lord Seckington had 
 still vast solace left him ; he was, af- 
 ter all, a peer of the realm ; he had a 
 fine, a noble fortune at his command ; 
 and these, with other consolatory to- 
 pics, were urged upon him so fre- 
 (|!ienlly and earnestly by his friends 
 and attendants, as at length to satisfy 
 them that they might lay aside their 
 apprehensions, and release liim from 
 the painful, the intolerable restraint 
 they had felt it nece.ssary to impose 
 upon iiim, also relaxing the strictness 
 of their surveillance. They did so; 
 and a day or two afterwards, the event 
 was duly announced in the newspaper 
 as follows : " On the 2yth ult.„ at 
 
 Street, in his S2d year, the Rt. 
 
 Honorable Lord Seckington." It 
 such a thing as a Ct)ronir''s Inquest 
 look pl.ice, the papers took no notice 
 of it; and every body was satisfied 
 that lie died in consequence of the 
 
THE DESTROYKR. 
 
 m 
 
 wounds he had received in his duel 
 with Colonel St. Helen. 
 
 My pen now moves heavily and re- 
 luctantly in tracing these painful, 
 but, I hope, nevertheless, instructive, 
 scenes; my head aches as I recall 
 them : but my long labors now draw 
 to a close. 
 
 General and JNIrs. Ogilvie, with 
 their little precious charges, (for pre- 
 cious they were, and they were them- 
 selves childless,) withdrew, in about 
 a twelvemonth after Colonel St. He- 
 len's death, to a remote part of Eng- 
 land, where they might attend exclu- 
 sively and unremittingly to the im- 
 portant and interesting duties confid- 
 ed to them. Their departure, and 
 the endless absorbing engagements of 
 a busy professional life in the metrop- 
 olis, caused the gloomy transactions 
 above narrated gradually to disappear 
 from my memory, which, however, 
 they had long and grievously haunted. 
 Three years afterwards, there occurs 
 the following entry in my Diary : 
 
 " Wednesday, 8th Oct., 18—." 
 * * But I shall endeavor to de- 
 scribe the scene exactly as it appear- 
 ed to me. May experience never en- 
 able me to describe such anotlier ! 
 
 " Hush ! stand here. Doctor — ," 
 whispered Mr. 13., the proprietor of 
 an extensive private asylum near the 
 metropolis, where I had called to visit 
 a gentleman who had been long a p;i- 
 tient of mine. " Hush, don't speak, 
 nor be at all alarmed," opening a 
 small, and, as it seemed to me, a se- 
 cret door, " these are my iiinirablcs. 
 Hark ! I think I know what they are 
 about. Step forward, here. Can you 
 see? I did as he directed. From 
 my position I could not see very dis- 
 tinctly, but the room was long and ra- 
 ther narrow, and had a resemblance 
 to a ward in a hospital, Avith about 
 half a dozen beds on each side of the 
 room, on which were sitting as many 
 boys, apparently from about fifteen to 
 
 eighteen years old, wearing long blue 
 dresses, and their hair cut ;is close to 
 their heads as possible. They were 
 making all manner of discordant noi- 
 ses, and seemed engerly talking tooc- 
 thcr, but each remained sitting quiet- 
 ly on his own bed ; a circumstance I 
 mentioned to Mr. B., expressing my 
 surprise, that so eager and violent as 
 their gestures seemed, they should not 
 quit their beds. " It would be very 
 strange if they could,'' he whi.spered 
 with a smile, " for they are all fasten- 
 ed to a staple in the wall, by a strong 
 girdle passing round their waists. 
 Bless your life ! if it was not for that, 
 they would soon kill one another, and 
 every body that came near them. It 
 was only last month that one of them 
 contrived to twist herself" 
 
 Herself! " I whispered in amaze- 
 ment ; " what do you mean, Mr. B. ? " 
 
 " Why, what I say, Doctor, surely 
 — are you not aware that these are 
 women 1 " 
 
 " Gracious God, iromrn ! " I ex- 
 claimed, with a perfect shudder. 
 
 "Why, certainly! But, by the 
 way, they don't look much like wo- 
 men either ; that close cut hair of 
 theirs is so like the head of a charity 
 schoolboy. Some of these people 
 have been, and in point of family are, 
 highly respectable. It may appear 
 very shocking to you to see them in 
 this condition ; it was so to me, until 
 I grew accustomed to it. I assure you 
 we use no unnecessary violence or re- 
 straint whatever ; but, on the contra- 
 ry, give them every indulgence their 
 tinf<irtunate condition will admit of. 
 What can we do with them? There 
 are several of them perfect fiends if 
 they have the slightest license. I was 
 obliged to have this room constructed 
 on purpose, apart from the rest of my 
 establishment, their noises were so 
 dreadful ; now, hark I " 
 
 " Whoo-whoo-whoo I '' shrieked a 
 voice louder than any of the rest, 
 " who'll go to the moon ? who'll go to 
 the moon ? who'll go the moon? " 
 
64 
 
 THE DESTROYER. 
 
 "I — I've got it ! " shouted ano- 
 ther. " Pole ! Pole ! what have voii 
 done with the moon ? " 
 
 " I go for the stars — the stars I 
 Whirr I whirr ! whirr ! Away I away ! 
 away I " cried another. 
 
 "Ha! ha! ha! Ha! ha! ha ! " 
 said another voice, htirsting into h)ud 
 laughter, " I've got a dog in my head ; 
 hark, how it barks! bow, wow, wow I 
 Ha, ha, ha! " 
 
 " I've got a cat ; mew I mew ! 
 mew ! Who'll catch the mouse ? I 
 feel it ! mew I " 
 
 " Water ! water ! water ! The 
 world's on fire ! Fire I fire ! fire I " 
 
 '* Hush, you wretches," exclaimed 
 another voice, " I'm going to sing for 
 my dinner : hush ! hark ! " 
 
 " Hark ! the song, the song ! " 
 cried all the other voices together, 
 while the singer began ; and in a few 
 moments her voice only was heard, 
 wild and dismal beyond description, 
 though not very loud, uttering words 
 something like the following : 
 
 '■ Hark to the bell, the merry, merry, merry 
 
 bell. 
 It is his knell, — the merry, merry, merry 
 
 knell ! " — 
 
 '■ Ding, dong ! — Ding, dong ! — Ding, dong ! " 
 
 sung the other voices in a kind of 
 doleful chorus. The singer resumed : 
 
 '■• Lullaby! Lnllaby ! Lullaby! 
 His head. oh. his head it is white — 
 All white! white! 
 — Dead, dead, dead ! 
 
 Sing, you wretches ! " They re- 
 sumed : 
 
 " Ding, dong! — Ding, dong! — Ding, dong!" 
 
 The sun at that moment shone into 
 the dreary room, while I was intently 
 gazing on the miserable .scene it dis- 
 closed. Mercy ! my flesh crept ! I 
 began to recognise in the singer, who 
 looked wildly up into the sunshine, I 
 could not be wrong ! Mrs. St. Helen ! 
 " Who is that? " I inquired faint- 
 ly, turning away from the room, while 
 my companion closed and secured 
 the door. 
 
 " Mrs. Jones is the performer, if 
 it's she whom you mean." 
 
 " Oh no, no, no! Her name is not, 
 it never was Jones ! " said I, feeling 
 very faint, and moving as quickly as 
 possible into the open air. 
 
 " Well, certainly," said Mr. B., af- 
 ter considering a little, "it is strange 
 enough. I have certainly now and 
 then heard her mention your nanie, 
 among others. So you know, very 
 probably, her real name, Mrs. St. 
 
 H ? ' 
 
 He mentioned the name I dreaded 
 to hear. 
 
 " I have had her these two years ; 
 she was removed hither from St. — 's 
 by order of General Ogilvie, at whose 
 expense she continues here." 
 
 I got into the open air, and began 
 at length to breathe more freely. I 
 protest that I never in iny life encoun- 
 tered such a shock as that I hud just 
 experienced. He told me many sad, 
 allocking things, which I shall not re- 
 cord. 
 
 Oh, merciful and just God, gover- 
 nor of the world, sometimes, even in 
 this life, thy most tremendous wrath 
 alights upon the heads of the guilty ! 
 
14 DAY USE 
 
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