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 CALTHORPE; 
 
 FALLEN FORTUNES 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF 
 
 THE MYSTERY; OR, FORTY YEARS AGO. 
 
 " We worldly men, when we see friends, and kinsmen, 
 
 Past hope sunk in their fortunes, lend no hand 
 
 To lift 'em up, but rather set our feet 
 
 Upon their heads, to press 'em to the bottom ; 
 
 But, now I see you in a way to rise, 
 
 I can, and will, assist you." 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR 
 
 LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN, 
 
 PATERNOSTER-ROW. 
 
 1821. -

 
 CALTHORPE ; 
 
 OR, 
 
 FALLEN FORTUNES. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 a I loathe that low vice, curiosity ; 
 
 But if there's any thing in which I shine, 
 Tis in arranging all my friends' affairs 
 Not having of my own domestic cares." 
 
 LORD BYKON. 
 
 IT has been seen, that Henry was made 
 uncomfortable by the altered conduct of 
 his former friend the Deputy. For this, 
 he was, unknown to himself, in some 
 measure revenged ; as the opening bloom 
 of manhood and his modest but dignified 
 deportment, Mr. Hanson could not but 
 feel, were well calculated to attract the 
 admiration of the other sex. Aiexan- 
 
 VOL. II. B
 
 2 CALTHORPE. 
 
 drina was too old to be returned to 
 school, and the Deputy was tortured 
 with constant apprehension, lest the 
 union which he formerly courted, should 
 even now take place, now that he was 
 as anxious to avoid, as he had once been 
 eager to invite, such a consummation. 
 
 Since the little affair of the coffee-cup, 
 the deliberations which used to occupy 
 the Deputy and his lady while engaged 
 at their breakfast, had been, as if by 
 mutual consent, postponed till the cloth 
 was removed. This was occasioned, not 
 altogether by these prudential feelings 
 on the part of the Deputy, which the 
 accident just referred to, may be sup- 
 posed to have inspired, and which might 
 have taught a less sagacious politician 
 the necessity of adopting precautionary 
 measures, where friendship could be 
 changed by a process so exceedingly 
 simple and short, into the most fatal 
 hostility. It was in part caused by the 
 presence of Alexandrina, who was com-
 
 CALTHORPE. O 
 
 monly the subject of their discussions, 
 and still more by that of Pierrepoint 
 and his friend Henry. During this 
 meal, in which Mrs. Hanson had been 
 accustomed to charm her husband with 
 her most voluble display, a brief, common- 
 place, and disjointed conversation was 
 now awkwardly maintained j and the 
 whole of the parties felt relieved, by its 
 termination, from an unwelcome presence, 
 and an unpleasant restraint. 
 
 What may be called the adjournment 
 had one morning taken place that is, 
 Henry and Pierrepoint, and even Alex- 
 andrina, had retired, and the Deputy and 
 his lady found themselves at liberty to 
 entertain each other in the way which 
 had formerly been customary ; when 
 the orator broke silence, and expressed 
 to Mrs. Hanson the apprehensions that 
 oppressed his mind, on the subject of 
 young Burleigh. The lady, who in the 
 absence of all real discrimination, never 
 failed to take credit to herself for a 
 B 2
 
 4 tALTHORPE. 
 
 boundless share of sagacity, thought 
 proper to reply, by taunting her husband 
 on the folly which had first brought 
 Henry to reside with them. He vindi- 
 cated himself, by pointing out the im- 
 possibility of foreseeing events like those 
 which had recently occurred, at the same 
 time reminding her that his former views 
 had met with her entire approbation. 
 This was vehemently denied; and the 
 wife of the Deputy, whose good-nature 
 was about on a par with her regard for 
 truth, thought it 'proper to throw herself 
 into a violent passion on the occasion-, 
 and roundly to declare, that she had 
 always thought it quite absurd to think 
 of seeking a husband for a child like 
 Alexandrina. 
 
 The -Deputy, who well remembered 
 how cordially Mrs. Hanson had entered 
 into his views, thought proper to in- 
 sinuate that she had told that which was 
 not exactly the truth. A conscious feel- 
 ing that the reproach was well-merited 
 dictated a furious response to this attack
 
 CALTHORPE. 5 
 
 on her veracity. The orator answered 
 with warmth, and adverting to the 
 sneer at his thinking of a husband for 
 a child like Alexandrina, remarked, 
 that, when she (Mrs. Hanson,) was 
 such another child, she not only 
 thought herself old enough at eighteen, 
 to have a husband, but had actually 
 had one. 
 
 Again was the Common-councilman 
 flatly contradicted; and, for Alexandrina, 
 he was told that she was nothing like 
 eighteen or seventeen either. 
 
 " Tell this," said Mr. Hanson, to any 
 body but me, my dear. You know well 
 enough that she is almost eighteen 
 though you are pleased to put her back, 
 in order to be thought younger yourself 
 than you are. I know what was written 
 on the inside of the cover of the Bible, 
 before you thought proper to tear it off 
 and send it to be- bound again, in order 
 that your daughter's real age might not 
 be known." 
 
 B 3
 
 CALTIIORPE. 
 
 " Indeed! and so, because you are 
 nearly fifty, because when I married you, 
 you pretended to be about ten years 
 younger than you really were, you sup- 
 pose that I did the same. It's an old say- 
 ing but a very true one, ' that people 
 always judge of others by themselves/ '* 
 
 The Deputy Was to the full as sore on 
 the subject of age as his wife. Both 
 added, by relentless Time, to the number 
 of those who are commonly called middle- 
 aged people ; shrunk back with a silly 
 horror from that more advanced stage of 
 existence, old age, on which they felt that 
 it must be theirs at no distant period to 
 enter; and on every occasion manifested 
 a feverish anxiety to conceal, as they 
 could not avoid, the silvery honours 
 which accumulated years had begun to 
 bestow. From being in the constant 
 habit of attempting to impose on the cre- 
 dulity of their friends and acquaintances, 
 they at length attempted to extend the 
 deceit to each other. Feeling thus, the 
 Deputy no sooner heard himself accused
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 of the high crime of having lived nearly 
 half a century, than he rejoined with be- 
 coming indignation 
 
 " If I am fifty, it's all the worse for 
 you. In years I am very mnch inclined 
 to think that you have the advantage of 
 me; and what's more, I am sure you have, 
 if I may go by looks." 
 
 " I see you are as great a bear as ever, 
 my dear. What do you mean by looks ?" 
 
 This interrogatory, was vociferated in a 
 tone that made the Common-councilman 
 start. It, indeed, seemed to announce 
 the speaker to be fully prepared for ac- 
 tion, 
 
 " Why I mean " 
 
 " What do you mean, my dear ?" said 
 Mrs. Hanson, in a much softer tone, at 
 the same time sideling towards the Com- 
 mon-councilman, and looking another 
 way,, as if a different object engrossed 
 the greater portion of her attention She 
 had got tolerably near him j she had be- 
 B 4-
 
 8 CALTHORPE. 
 
 gun to reiterate her question in a loud; 
 and fierce tone ; and the tigress was just 
 ready for her spring, when the Deputy, 
 who had been taught, by painful experi- 
 ence, to understand full well the object 
 of the movement above described, started 
 out of the room. He completed this- 
 operation in time to escape that acknow- 
 ledgement of lib politeness, which his 
 affectionate consort had intended to be- 
 stow, and he effected his retreat down 
 stairs in tolerable order. He had scarcely 
 done so, when the door again opened,, 
 and Mi's. Hanson rushed on the person 
 who entered, as a cat would pounce on a 
 mouse. In a moment, she discovered that 
 it was not her returning husband ; but 
 the maid* who announced that Mrs. Clat- 
 ter and Miss Snarl had called. Presum- 
 ing on the intimacy which subsisted be- 
 tween them, they were now heard rapidly 
 ascending the stairs, and Mrs. Hanson 
 had hardly time to exclaim, " What do 
 they want, plaguing, .every day ? I wish
 
 CALTHORPE. 9 
 
 they would wait till they are sent for ;" 
 when they entered the apartment, and 
 she received them with 
 
 "I'm very very glad to see you. Why 
 you're quite strangers where have you 
 "tfcen all this time ?" 
 
 " Why it was only the day before 
 yesterday, that we called," said Mrs. 
 
 Clatter* 
 
 " But that seems a century ago." 
 
 " Are you not well ?" enquired Miss 
 Snarl. 
 
 "Bless me! my dear, how you are 
 flushed," cried Mrs. Clatter. "Have ad- 
 vice. Do you not feel ill ?" 
 
 " I am rather unwell." 
 
 " And what has flurried you so ?" 
 
 " A very unpleasant occurrence But 
 I ought not to trouble you with my dis- 
 tress. It would be to fatigue you." 
 
 " Not at all," said Miss Snarl. 
 
 " Not that we would be inquisitive 
 about family matters," added Mrs. Clat- 
 ter ; " but at the same time to open one's 
 B 5
 
 10 CALTHORPE. 
 
 mind to a friend affords great relief. Do 
 not, however, suppose that we have any 
 wish to pry into secrets j nevertheless, as 
 it is quite clear that something extraor- 
 dinary has happened, Miss Snarl, as well 
 as myself, feels anxious to know what it 
 is, in the hope that we may be able to 
 suggest the means of relief.*' 
 
 Miss $haii xoflowed up this judicious 
 harangue of Mrs. Clatter, and both re- 
 peatedly declaring that they would not 
 enquire into the cause of her uneasiness, 
 and at the same time importuning her to 
 disclose it, Mrs. Hanson could no longer 
 refuse to gratify two such very affection- 
 ate friends, and, accordingly replied to 
 their persevering entreaties 
 
 " I don't know that I ought to men- 
 tion it. But I am a very unhappy 
 woman." 
 
 Here she halted for the purpose of 
 shedding a few tears. And the exclam- 
 ations " Indeed!" and " Bless me!" were 
 supplied between her sobs, by her sympa- 
 thising audience.
 
 CALTHORPE. 1 1 
 
 " But what is the matter ?" said Mrs. 
 Clatter ; who began to think that too 
 much time was lost between the acts of 
 this tragedy. 
 
 " O, my dear I" said Mrs. Hanson, and 
 her handkerchief went up to her eyes. 
 " Mr. Hanson is such a wretched tem- 
 per. He has used me worse than a 
 brute.", 
 
 ", I would use him," said Miss Snarl, 
 with that air of unconquerable resolution, 
 in which spinsters excel. 
 
 " And I," screamed Mrs. Clatter, 
 " would soon let him know that I would 
 be mistress in my own house." 
 
 Mrs. Hanson, having made up her 
 
 mind to be interesting all through the 
 
 scene, replied, in a very subdued tone, 
 
 " Ah ! my dear, this is very easily said; 
 
 but you have no idea what a man he is. 
 
 Bless you, I am obliged to give way in 
 
 every thing, or there would be no living 
 
 with him. If he had a spirited wife 
 
 that is, a woman of passionate or fiery 
 
 B 6
 
 12 CALTHORPE. 
 
 temper, Heaven knows what work there 
 would be. For my own part, I think 
 there would be murder." 
 
 " But what has he done?" 
 
 " Why he has been calling me an old 
 wretch ; and he says Alexandrina the 
 child, you know, is eighteen years of 
 age !** 
 
 " Well, I'm sure !" exclaimed Miss 
 Snarl, breathless with astonishment. 
 
 " What will the man say next ?" ex- 
 claimed Mrs. Clatter, in a tone of inde- 
 scribable surprise and horror, at the false- 
 hood supposed to have been told by Mr. 
 Hanson. 
 
 The Lady proceeded. 
 
 " Now, you know that I married at 
 sixteen ; that is but fourteen years ago ; 
 and so Alexandrina can be but just turned 
 of thirteen ; and, besides, there's the 
 parish register to prove it." 
 
 " But the story is too ridiculous ta 
 merit attention. I'm sure I would not
 
 CALTHORPE. 1 
 
 let it give me a moment's uneasiness, if I , 
 were you." 
 
 " But I hate people to tell such false- 
 hoods," sighed the wife of the Deputy 5 
 " and I always laugh at people who make 
 themselves younger than they are. What 
 is the use of it? You know one can't de- 
 ceive one's self." 
 
 y$ Very true !" replied Mrs. Clatter ; 
 " and what does it signify what other peo- 
 ple may think." 
 
 " Nothing at all. Then I am made 
 very uncomfortable about Alexandrina. 
 Her father has gone on in such a way, 
 that I am afraid she will think herself a 
 woman, and perhaps marry this young 
 Burleigh, whom we have been so foolish 
 as to take into the house out of charity." 
 
 " Indeed !" 
 
 " That would be a very serious thing ; 
 for he has not a penny in the world. 
 Only think, what an unpleasant affair it 
 would be, if the daughter of respectable 
 people an only daughter were ta 
 throw herself away on a beggar."
 
 14 CALTHORPE. 
 
 " O, shocking !" 
 
 " It is not that I think any thing 
 of money; but what disgrace it would 
 bring on the family !" 
 
 " It would really be dreadful," said 
 Miss Snarl ; " but pray don't think of it, 
 my dear madam. Come, we have called 
 to take you with us to the Exhibition. 
 Mrs. Clatter's carriage is at the door." 
 
 " Come, my dear," said Mrs. Clatter, 
 in the soothing tone of genuine friend- 
 ship, " it will amuse your mind a little." 
 " You are very kind. But before we 
 go, I wish you would speak to Alexan- 
 drina, just to advise her against thinking 
 any thing of Burleigh, or, indeed, of any 
 body, while she is so young. What you 
 say would have more eifect on her, per- 
 haps, than any thing that I might urge." 
 The ladies cheerfully consented to 
 take upon themselves this friendly task; 
 and $trs. Hanson left the room to seek 
 Alexandrina. The instant the door closed, 
 " Hush !" said Mrs. Clatter, to Miss.
 
 CALTHORPE. 15 
 
 Snarl, " You laugh so loud, that she will 
 hear," laughing at the same time herself, 
 till the convulsions of her mirth brought 
 tears into her eyes. 
 
 " Did you ever hear any thing half so 
 ridiculous ?" enquired Miss Snarl. 
 
 " Never, never. You see, she makes 
 it out that she is but thirty. Now, to my 
 certain knowledge, she has been married 
 to her present husband more than twenty 
 years. She had a child or two by her 
 first husband, and she was a widow a 
 year and a half 5 so the story that she is 
 now but thirty, and that she thinks it 
 folly for people to disguise their age, tells 
 with a very good grace." 
 
 '* Then Alexandrina." - 
 
 " Aye, Alexandrina just thirteen! 
 That's very good. She's twenty, I dare 
 say, if she's an hour." 
 
 " Then, the disgrace to be brought on 
 the family, if this great tomboy, that 
 she calls a child, should marry Henry 
 Burleigh !"
 
 16 CALTHOIIPE.- 
 
 " Yes ; I like that. She quite forgets 
 that she used to assist her mother at the 
 wash-tub, while the Deputy, whose 
 family is now in such danger of being 
 disgraced, was a linen draper's under- 
 ling." 
 
 This good-natured and edifying con- 
 versation, would probably have been 
 continued with unabated spirit for an 
 hour, had it not been terminated by the 
 sudden entrance of Alexandrina, Mrs. 
 Clatter and Miss Snarl now proceeded, 
 with all due solemnity, to admonish that 
 young lady on the duty imposed upon 
 her of attending to the wishes of her 
 parents, by always bearing in mind the 
 rank which she held in society. The 
 daughter of the Deputy listened with 
 dutiful earnestness, and gave the proper 
 responses with great regularity. In the 
 most explicit manner, she assured her 
 kind advisers, that even if she were old 
 enough to think of a husband, she would 
 never lower the dignity of her family,
 
 CALTHORPE. IJ 
 
 by choosing Henry Burleigh for her 
 husband. 
 
 This matter being settled to the entire 
 satisfaction of all parties, Mrs. Hanson 
 soon brightened up, and gaily accom- 
 panied her kind comforters to the Ex- 
 hibition. 
 
 fIB. 
 
 sifc 
 

 
 18 CALTHORPE. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 (What is not to be shunned) bear patiently ; 
 But had she health, as sound as is the Spring, 
 To me she would be sickly Autumn still." 
 
 DEKKER. 
 
 THE days of Mrs. Burleigh passed in 
 silent sorrow. In the humble dwelling 
 which remained to her, she received but 
 few visits, and it was but seldom that she 
 accepted invitations from those with 
 whom she had formerly been intimate. 
 Her humble means made it impossible for 
 her to do the one, and she shrunk with 
 sincere repugnance from the painful re- 
 collections inspired by the other. She 
 had no wish, but to rest in solitude, till 
 the remainder of her melancholy days 
 should be spent ; and, for herself, she 
 regretted not the poverty to which she 
 was doomed j as, had all her former
 
 CALTHORPE. 19 
 
 affluence returned, she would have felt 
 no disposition to make any material 
 change in her style of living. If she had 
 ever experienced any of that restless 
 anxiety, which some ladies know, who 
 aspire to the honour of eclipsing all their 
 acquaintances, it survived not the terrible 
 shock which she had sustained, in the 
 death of Mr. Burleigh. 
 
 But, though she sighed not for those 
 comforts and enjoyments, which ample 
 means once placed at her 'command, a 
 throb of unmingled agony would some- 
 times agitate her bosom, while her at- 
 tention rested on the calamitous change, 
 which that deplorable event had made in 
 the prospects of her children. All the 
 hopes in which she had once indulged 
 were no more ; her son, she had but too 
 much reason to fear, was doomed for life 
 to hardly-requited drudgery ; and her 
 daughter cut off, like herself, from so- 
 ciety, she could not but view, as destined 
 to wither in cheerless retirement.
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 Harriet shared the grief of her mother j 
 and mourning the irreparable loss which 
 they had sustained in the death of their 
 common protector, felt no wish to mingle 
 with the gay world. To her, the enjoy- 
 ments of life had lost all their value, and 
 she was too inexperienced to have any 
 idea that time itself could change their 
 character, and restore their lost import- 
 ance. 
 
 In the morning, when least exposed to 
 interruption, Harriet sometimes attended 
 her remaining parent to the brow of the 
 hill. The pure air seemed f o revive Mrs. 
 Burleigh, and the gentle exercise of 
 walking thither proved conducive to the 
 health of both. Passing to their accus- 
 tomed promenade one day, a gentleman's 
 servant, in a gig, drove carelessly against 
 them. Harriet received a severe bruise, 
 and her mother, starting in the alarm of 
 the moment, fell to the ground. The 
 driver looked round. The appearance 
 of an elderly female, thrown down with
 
 CALTHORPE. 21 
 
 violence, was, in his eye, a fit subject for 
 merriment, and, calling out, " You ought 
 to get out of the way, old woman," he 
 pursued his course with a laugh. 
 
 But his mirth was of short duration. 
 A person, whom he had not seen before, 
 springing suddenly into the chaise, and 
 seizing him by the collar, helped him 
 over the back of the vehicle, with such 
 expedition, that he felt his head bound 
 from the shock, which it received from 
 the ground, before he had any distinct 
 idea of the object of his assailant. He 
 was next dragged to the ladies, and com- 
 pelled to implore their forgiveness, and 
 finally dismissed, with a mark of the 
 stranger's consideration, which was very 
 likely to answer the purpose of a keep- 
 sake for more than a day or two. The gen- 
 tleman who had thus interfered now offered 
 his services to the mother and daugh- 
 
 o 
 
 ter, and they found that their avenger 
 was no other than Sir James Denville. 
 In return for their acknowledgments,
 
 22 CALTHORPE. 
 
 he exulted in the delight that it had 
 afforded him to arrive so opportunely, 
 to chastise the ruffianly carelessness 
 which had endangered their lives. For 
 several days afterwards, he failed not to 
 call, for the purpose of making enquiries 
 after their health ; and, on one of these 
 occasions, finding himself alone with 
 Harriet, he led the conversation to that 
 topic which, in happier days, he had 
 always been ready to enter upon, but 
 which, till now, he had never recurred to, 
 since the death of Mr. Burleigh. 
 
 " The respect and veneration," said 
 he, after a few introductory remarks, 
 " which I must ever cherish, for the 
 memory of my dear lost friend, would 
 still lead me to aspire to the hand of his 
 daughter ; if she would authorise me to 
 entertain a hope that her coldness might 
 one day be subdued." 
 
 " Your condescension, Sir James, is 
 great, and your disinterestedness com- 
 mands my admiration j but, at present,
 
 CALTHORPE. 23 
 
 my mind is ill prepared to entertain that 
 question which you would press on my 
 consideration.'" 
 
 " And must it ever ever more be 
 thus? In affluence or in indigence, in 
 joy or in sorrow, you are still the same, 
 and always unprepared to listen to me. 
 Will the day never arrive, when I may 
 plead my passion with a prospect of at- 
 taining the object of my ambition ; the 
 only object entitled to my care ?" 
 
 " At all events you must feel that this 
 is not the time, at which I ought to invite 
 your attentions. You would think meanly 
 of me, if, while yet a mourner for a be- 
 loved parent, snatched away by an event 
 so awfully sudden, as that which we de- 
 plore, I could listen to the language of 
 love." 
 
 " Nay," returned the Baronet, " six 
 months have elapsed since your lamented 
 father paid the debt of nature. If sor- 
 row is to be so long persevered in, we, 
 in fact, throw away our own lives. The
 
 2* CALTHORPE. 
 
 volume of existence so abounds with ca- 
 lamities, that acting thus, we must dedi- 
 cate the whole of our days to mourning." 
 
 " A brief half-year ought not to sweep 
 away the memory of those we love." -y 
 
 " I do not wish that it should. But 
 .cannot your father be remembered, 
 tenderly remembered, in the arms of a 
 husband, who not less attached to his 
 memory than yourself, would ever be 
 ready to join in your regrets, and mingle 
 Jiis tears with yours ?" 
 
 " Indeed, indeed, Sir James, I cannot 
 turn my nvjp& to such subjects now." 
 
 " Tell me that you can never favour 
 my pretensions, tell me that I am 
 doomed to .sigh in vain, tell me this, 
 and at once annihilate the irrational hope 
 which has so long struggled against my 
 .peace. Then, bowing to the hard sen- 
 tence, I will bless the merciful rigour 
 which terminates suspense." 
 
 He spoke with energy, and the ear-
 
 CALTH0RPE. 25 
 
 nestness of his manner afflicted Harriet. 
 She replied in a soothing tone, 
 
 " Far be it from me, Sir James, to treat 
 any one with rigour, but really the recent 
 death of my father " 
 
 " Makes it more than ever necessary 
 that you should seek, in a husband, an 
 honourable protector. But, unhappily, I 
 am not he whom you would prefer. Is 
 it not so? Tell me, I conjure you, tell 
 me, and at once." 
 
 " I give you my word, that I have 
 thought of no one." 
 
 " No ; but there are sympathies which 
 attract, peculiarities that win affection, 
 and habits of thinking that lead the incli- 
 nation captive. These, I fear you have 
 never found in me, but their opposites, 
 which repel ; these, I suspect, would 
 I did no more than suspect ! appear to 
 you to form the character of Sir James 
 Denville. Is not the conjecture fatally 
 correct ?" 
 
 " Pray, Sir James, desist." 
 
 VOL. II. C
 
 26 CALTHORPE. 
 
 " No ; answer the question. Let me 
 know the sum of calamity at once. Have 
 you found in me those qualities which I 
 ~bave enumerated ?" 
 
 " I hardly understand the question^ 
 
 " Terminate my every doubt. Have 
 you seen in me those traits those 
 those peculiarities, which your heart has 
 whispered you could wish should distin- 
 guish your future husband." 
 
 " I cannot say that I have " 
 
 " J Tis sufficient " 
 
 i That 1 have thought about it." 
 
 " Nay; still you evade the ques- 
 tion. Tell me, have I not appeared the^ 
 opposite of what you could desire ? Have 
 you not seemed instinctively to shrink 
 from me with aversion or terror* when 
 for a moment, the idea of becoming mine 
 has passed across your mind." 
 
 Harriet made no reply. 
 
 " Can you deny that such has been 
 the feeling inspired by my presence, or 
 my name? Speak."
 
 CALTHORPfc. 27 
 
 Harriet was silent. 
 
 >/M It is enough," said Sir James ; 
 " all is over I know my doom." 
 
 " Sir James, I cannot continue to hear 
 this language." 
 
 " It shall offend you no more. No j 
 since I cannot avert, I will at least prove 
 that I can bow with devoted resignation, 
 to the severe decree. From this hour, I 
 abandon the hope of making you my 
 wife. May the hand to which I aspired 
 be the lot of some more favoured mortal, 
 who will know how to value it, as it 
 deserves to be valued. I will press my 
 rejected suit no further." 
 
 " You do well, Sir James. Were 
 there no disparity in our circumstances, 
 to oppose the union you have stooped to 
 solicit, you must feel that your chance 
 for happiness would not be great with 
 one, who, situated as I am, could so soon 
 think of passing, in the dress of a bride, 
 over a parent's untimely grave." 
 
 " The disparity of circumstances, to 
 c 2
 
 28 CALTHORPE. 
 
 which you have alluded, I have always 
 regarded as wholly beneath my consider- 
 ation. No such sordid imputation will, I 
 trust, rest on my character." 
 
 " 1 shall ever be ready to do justice to 
 the noble generosity which you have 
 displayed in former instances, as well as 
 on the present occasion." 
 
 " As well as on the present occasion!" 
 repeated the Baronet. " Ah ! Harriet, 
 I see, it is the generosity which relieves 
 you from the importunity of my passion, 
 that you most value. Be happy, Harriet; 
 and be assured that, though no time can 
 eradicate that beloved image from my 
 bosom, the sighs of my aching heart shall 
 not interfere with your repose." 
 
 In the early part of the foregoing 
 speech, there was a sternness in the 
 manner of Sir James, which powerfully 
 arrested the attention of Harriet. But, 
 us he proceeded, his voice became sub- 
 dued by emotion, and the generous reso- 
 lution which he announced, made him 
 16
 
 CALTHORPE. 29 
 
 more interesting than he had ever ap- 
 peared before. She thought not of love ; 
 but his conduct won her undivided 
 esteem. 
 
 Harriet had not time to reply to the 
 last words of the Baronet, when Mrs. 
 Burleigh entered. The agitation of Sir 
 James, and the embarrassment of her 
 daughter, could not escape notice ; but 
 she had no time to make enquiries before 
 the Baronet supplied an explanation, by 
 briefly stating what had occurred. She 
 attempted to express regret ; but was 
 stopped by the rejected suitor, who 
 reiterated the determination he had come 
 to, never again to persecute (that was the 
 word he used), by soliciting Harriet to 
 bestow her hand, where it was but too 
 evident that she could not give her heart. 
 
 After this declaration, all felt that to 
 prolong the scene would be useless ; and 
 Sir James took his leave, declaring that 
 he should henceforth view her but ay the 
 daughter of his dear, lost friend, or as a 
 c 3
 
 SO CALTHORPE. 
 
 sister. Mrs. Burleigh could only express 
 her thanks for his kind attention. That 
 same want of worldly wisdom, which, on 
 a former occasion, had subjected her to 
 the sharp rebukes of " the friends of the 
 family," prevented her from schooling 
 her daughter for refusing so advan- 
 tageous an offer, as some respectable 
 mothers may think it was her duty to do. 
 Whatever were the necessities of her 
 present situation, and ample and imme- 
 diate as was the relief promised by a 
 family alliance with Sir James Denville, 
 it did not occur to Mrs. Burleigh, that it 
 would be desirable to regain affluence, 
 at the expense of her daughter's hap- 
 piness. 
 
 i 
 
 * 8391 
 
 i
 
 CALTHORPE. 31 
 
 \- 
 
 ^ 
 
 rro ;rfdwiVfflo! 
 
 [obatosp GHAP. III. 
 'Sifc'iogbrtij' 
 
 2 mi 
 
 * : * Then it is to be hoped,' cried I, ' that you reverenct 
 
 the King.' * Yes,' returned my entertainer/ when he does 
 what we would have him ; but if he goes on as he has 
 done of late, I'll never trouble myself more with his mat- 
 ters. I "say nothing. I think only ; I could have directed 
 some things better. I don't think there has been a suffi- 
 cient number of advisers ; he should advise with every 
 person willing to give him advice, and then we should 
 have things done in another guest manner.' " 
 
 GOLDSMITH 
 
 HENRY and Pierrepoint continued united 
 by the closest ties of friendship. In 
 each other's society, they forgot the in- 
 conveniences to which they were sub' 
 jected by the pride and meanness of 
 the low-minded Hansons. Pierrepoint 
 on every occasion took care to mark his 
 contempt for them, and for their opi- 
 nions. Alexandrina he sometimes spoke 
 of with less asperity, describing her to 
 be a tolerably good-natured romp. Henry
 
 32 CALTHORPE. 
 
 suspected that his friend had substantial 
 reasons for speaking in praise of her good 
 nature ; at least so far as he himself was 
 concerned. This he ventured to hint, 
 more than once, to Pierrepointj but the 
 latter passed it off as a jest, and denied 
 that the slightest freedoms had passed 
 between them. 
 
 Important business required the pre- 
 sence of Pierrepoint at Gibraltar. Henry, 
 who had before looked with such appre- 
 hension to his return from abroad, now 
 witnessed the preparations for his de- 
 parture with unspeakable regret. 
 
 He sailed ; and Henry found that 
 he had not deceived himself, when 
 he anticipated that his own situation 
 would be rendered more than ever irk- 
 some. Whatever put the Deputy and 
 his Lady out of temper, their indigna- 
 tion always found its way, by a route more 
 or less circuitous, to the brokenhearted 
 Burleigh. He generally received the tri- 
 bute of their spleen with silent, and appa-
 
 CALTHORPE. 33 
 
 rently unheeding contempt; but there 
 were moments, when insulted sorrow vin- 
 dicated its dignity, and taught insolent 
 meanness and groveling arrogance, to re- 
 spect its energy. 
 
 A month had passed since Pierrepoint 
 took his departure, when the Deputy and 
 his lady resolved on giving a grand en- 
 tertainment, in consequence of the arrival 
 of a female cousin from Devonshire, who 
 had suddenly become a personage of 
 considerable importance. Mrs. Jenkins 
 married the landlord of a little hedge- 
 alehouse, whose father had filled the same 
 station before him, in consequence of the 
 grandfather of the present Mr. Jenkins 
 having ruined himself by a chancery- 
 suit. Though his claim was really well- 
 founded, the grandfather ended his days 
 in the Marshalsea. The next heir lived 
 and died in the alehouse ; but now, after 
 two generations had perished in poverty, 
 the proceedings, brought to anunexpecU 
 edly early termination, had put the land- 
 c 5
 
 34 CALTHORPE. 
 
 lord of the Plough and Horse-shoe in 
 possession of a princely fortune, which 
 consoled him, not only for the embarrass- 
 ments which he himself had known, but 
 for all the misery and starvation endured 
 by his progenitors. 
 
 The Hansons on hearing of this change, 
 though their cousin, as servant at the 
 Plough and Horse-shoe, (in which cha- 
 racter she made her debut at the ale- 
 house,) and subsequently as the mistress 
 of it, had claimed very little of their at- 
 tention, now felt ambitious of her acquain- 
 tance. Mrs. Jenkins, in consequence, re- 
 ceived a very kind letter, reminding her 
 of the near relationship which subsisted 
 between them, and expressing a hope 
 that her old friends would soon have the 
 happiness of seeing her in town, with Mr. 
 Jenkins and the rest of the family. 
 
 Mrs. Jenkins was not slow to accept 
 the invitation. She arrived ; and her kind 
 cousins in the few hours she passed with 
 them on her first visit, finding that she
 
 CALTHORPE. 35 
 
 talked of nothing but of buying houses 
 and estates, and of transactions in 
 which she and her husband were mixed 
 up with members of parliament, and 
 legal characters of the highest celebrity, 
 were equally surprised and delighted with 
 her improved deportment. In compli- 
 ance with their most pressing entreaties, 
 she promised to dine with them on ,the 
 following Thursday. 
 
 A visit from a relation, in such excel- 
 lent circumstances, seemed to the Deputy 
 and his lady, to afford an opportunity 
 for establishing the character of their 
 family for opulence and respectability, 
 that might never again occur. They 
 resolved to make the most of it, by in- 
 viting all their grand friends to meet 
 Mrs. Jenkins. Accordingly, on the 
 Thursday, that lady had the honour of 
 being introduced, among others, to Sir 
 David Snarl, Lady Snarl, the Miss 
 Snarls, Mrs. Clatter; and, also, to half 
 a dozen Aldermen, as many Members of 
 c 6
 
 3D CALTHORPE. 
 
 the Court of Common-council, and one 
 Member of Parliament. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Hanson perceived, with 
 great satisfaction, that the splendour of 
 their entertainment was not lost on their 
 relation. All through the dinner, they 
 found little reason to object to the man- 
 ners of Mrs. Jenkins. Her voice, which 
 was remarkably good, was heard above 
 the rest of the company, while affably 
 roaring " Your health, ladies and gen- 
 tlemen all !" every time she lifted a glass 
 to her mouth ; but, then, that was " the 
 country way ;" and, if the Deputy was 
 disconcerted for a moment, when on his 
 soliciting permission to send her a little 
 more turbot, she replied, that, "her 
 stomach would not hold another bit;" 
 a moment's reflection suggested, that 
 such a lapsus might happen to any one 
 in the hurry of dinner. 
 
 The cloth removed ; with all that ease 
 and freedom which should mark good 
 breeding, Mrs. Jenkins expressed her
 
 CALTHORPE. 37 ' 
 
 sentiments on every subject, without the 
 slightest embarrassment. Most of the 
 topics, on which her eloquence was dis- 
 played, appeared to the Deputyfelicitously 
 selected to make known her importance ; 
 and he, in consequence, encouraged her 
 to proceed. 
 
 Mrs. Jenkins entertained the company 
 with some account of the arrangements, 
 which Mr. Jenkins was about to make, 
 on his principal estate. It was his in- 
 tention to build a handsome house, with 
 rooms so large, that a coach-and-four 
 might be turned in them : double joists 
 were to be introduced, and the spaces 
 between filled up with sand j so that it 
 would be impossible for those on one 
 floor, to be annoyed by any noise in the 
 apartments above or below. She added, 
 Mr. Jenkins meant to build the whole so 
 substantially, that it should serve for a 
 family seat " for ever and ever." 
 
 " That," said the Deputy, " is a very 
 good thought. My poor father was very
 
 38 CALTHORPE. 
 
 much to blame for not doing something 
 of the kind in his life-time.^vfirf a* 
 
 " Why," returned Mrs. Jenkins, " he 
 could not well do that." 
 
 " True, very true, his talent did not 
 lie that way." 
 
 " And, as old Doctor Jackson gave 
 him but sixteen shillings a week, besides 
 his keep, he had not the money to spare." 
 
 The light thrown on the Deputy's 
 origin, by this judicious speech, gave that 
 gentleman what is familiarly called " aslap 
 in the face ;" that took away his breath 
 for the first fifteen seconds, and his 
 countenance wore that expression of 
 amazement, vexation, and rage, which, 
 in a friendly party, often sits on the 
 face of a good whist-player, when his 
 partner fails to return his lead. 
 
 At first, he seemed not to hear what 
 had fallen from his accomplished cousin, 
 and amused himself by calling on the 
 gentlemen to charge their glasses ; but, 
 he had the mortification to find, that
 
 CALTHORPE. 39 
 
 Mrs. Jenkins, considering the conversa- 
 tion to have taken a very interesting 
 turn, was impatiently waiting for an 
 answer. The Deputy, not less anxious 
 to prevent a new explosion, than to do 
 away the effect of that which had already 
 taken place, attempted one. 
 
 " I see you're just the merry madcap 
 you used to be : you had always wit at 
 will, and a joke for every body." 
 
 Lady Snarl, Mrs. Clatter, and the 
 other ladies present, who had at first, 
 like the Deputy, affected not to notice 
 what had been said respecting the situ- 
 ation of Mr. Hanson's sire, on hearing 
 that it was a joke, allowed that mirth a 
 vent, in audible laughter, which had in- 
 wardly convulsed them before. Mrs. 
 Clatter and Miss Snarl exchanged winks 
 on the occasion, and united to pour 
 their most gracious looks on the Deputy's 
 cousin, with a view of encouraging her 
 to go on. 
 
 The landlady of the Plough and
 
 40 CALTHORPE. 
 
 Horse-shoe was highly gratified by the 
 discernment of those who found her con- 
 versation so eminently entertaining ; and, 
 in the full flow of self-complacency and 
 good humour, she replied to Mr. Hanson, 
 " Why, yes, cousin, I believe, I gene- 
 rally give people as good as they send, or 
 thereabouts. Don't you remember what 
 a rub I gave the old Doctor, about his not 
 getting you into the charity-school." 
 
 At the mention of the words " charity 
 school," the whole company started, 
 as if a bomb-shell, just about to explode, 
 had been dropped among them ; but, 
 recovering from the shock, they were 
 proceeding to affect unconsciousness of 
 any meaning being attached to what had 
 so forcibly arrested their attention, when 
 Mrs. Hanson had sufficient presence of 
 mind to reply to the speaker." 
 
 " The Charter-house-School. You 
 mean the Charter-house School." 
 
 " I don't know what was the name 
 of 'the house. But I remember a little 
 
 '
 
 E; 41 
 
 stone boy and girl stood over the door : 
 
 tf 
 
 and the boy had a pretty bit of paper in 
 his hand, with ' Na1ced y and ye clothed 
 me,' on it-, and the girl- " 
 
 " O ! no," he replied ; " you are con- 
 founding two very different things. It 
 was the Charter-house." 
 
 " But, come," cried Mrs. Hanson, 
 " we forget the rest of the company 
 cannot join in this conversation." 
 
 " True, my dear," returned the De- 
 puty, looking at his lady with something 
 of real good will. " I was going to ask 
 Lady Snarl if she has heard any thing of 
 the match being broken oft' between Lord 
 Wilcox, and Lady Mary Vixen." 
 
 The conversation now introduced, was 
 of such a character, that Mrs. Jenkins 
 could not take a part in it. Mrs. Hanson 
 panted to intimate to her relation, that 
 topics like those on which she had inad- 
 vertently touched, ought to be avoided. 
 Mrs. Jenkins sat next but two to Mrs. 
 Hanson ; and the latter lady, carefully
 
 42 CALTHORPE. 
 
 sought, with her feet, those of her cousin. 
 Happily she found them, gently trod on 
 her toe, and, at the same time, admo- 
 nished Mrs. Jenkins, by a wink, to be 
 more guarded when speaking of former 
 times. 
 
 But one of the greatest inconveniences 
 sustained by Mrs. Hanson, from that un- 
 fortunate overthrow which dismissed her 
 Deputy the first, from the cares of mor- 
 tality, was the obstacle which the loss of 
 her eye put in the way of her commu- 
 nicating in silence those thoughts which 
 frequently occurred, when she could not 
 disburden her mind by the agency of her 
 tongue. If she attempted to wink, she 
 merely closed her eye, and the absence of 
 the leer, which the other should supply, 
 to make it intelligible, exposed it to great 
 risk of passing whol ly unobserved. Such 
 was the case now. Mrs. Jenkins felt a 
 slight pressure on her toe, and saw the 
 Deputy's lady shut her eye; but the for- 
 mer she supposed to be accidental, and
 
 CALTHORPE. 43 
 
 the latter seemed to be nothing out of 
 the common way. 
 
 Failing in her first effort, Mrs. Han- 
 son concluded that more energetic mea- 
 sures were necessary. It so happened 
 that the great toe of that foot selected 
 by the Deputy's lady had been violently 
 sprained but a fortnight before, and was 
 but imperfectly restored. Mrs. Jenkins, 
 in consequence of this, no sooner felt 
 the military heel of her .cousin placed 
 suddenly on it with some degree of 
 force, than she acknowledged it by 
 exclaiming in her most powerful tone, 
 which gave her a very fair chance of 
 being heard on the opposite side of the 
 way, 
 
 " O Lord ! I say, what's that for ? 
 Who the deuce is that treading on my 
 toes ? My poor broken toe '11 never be 
 well no more." 
 
 " 1 am very sorry," said Mrs. Hanson, 
 " that I happened to hurt you. I merely
 
 44 CALTHORPE. 
 
 touched your foot to remind you that 
 that you had forgotten your wine." 
 
 " Now what a rum-one you are ! Why 
 I was just helping myself, when you 
 touched me. You're just as you always 
 was. I remember you just the same, 
 when your mother lived at .'or 
 
 Down went a decanter at this moment. 
 It was doomed to destruction by the 
 Deputy, with a view of checking the 
 course of his relation's eloquence. And 
 it succeeded. The bustle occasioned by 
 the crash, had the effect of causing 
 Mrs. Jenkins to pause; and the particulars 
 she was about to recount, remained un- 
 told ; when Mrs. Hanson gave the signal 
 for the ladies to adjourn. 
 
 The Deputy reflected, with infinite 
 vexation, that family stock, which he 
 had expected to rise ten per cent., on 
 the credit of Mrs. Jenkins, had declined 
 very considerably that day. But, after 
 a little reflection, he judged that if he 
 

 
 CALTHORPE. 45 
 
 had failed to inspire his guests with re- 
 spect for his kinsfolks, as he had wished, 
 it was not yet too late to display his own 
 individual importance, gain applause 
 for his talents, and admiration for his 
 liberality. 
 
 " Your cousin is a great oddity," said 
 Sir David Snarl. 
 
 " Yes ;" replied the Deputy. " The 
 fact is, she is not quite right here (touch- 
 ing his head). She is a little cracked as 
 you must have seen ; and this makes the 
 poor lady run on, as you have heard, 
 about things that never existed. But 
 there is an honest, blunt freedom in her 
 language, which I very much admire." 
 
 " Do you, indeed ?" said Sir David ; 
 and the look which accompanied this 
 short speech, expressed much more than 
 the words themselves. 
 
 " Yes," continued the Deputy, " I 
 do; for freedom of speech is that for 
 which I must ever contend in the fullest 
 meaning of the word j and though it may
 
 46 CALTHORPE. 
 
 sometimes be abused, even what is called 
 licentiousness, is to me delightful. It 
 is this that saves Englishmen from being 
 slaves. It is this that protects our rights, 
 preserves our privileges and and," 
 (here he stammered, but, to round off a 
 period, in what he thought an elegant and 
 impressive manner, a third member was 
 absolutely necessary) " and vindicates 
 our liberties." 
 
 The Member of Parliament who was 
 present, and who seldom ventured to say 
 more than " Aye" or " No," thought it 
 much easier to nod assent to this fine 
 speech, than to comment on it. 
 
 The Deputy, as he had much more 
 patriotic benevolence behind, was a little 
 disconcerted at receiving no answer ; and 
 fearful that the conversation might turn 
 off into some other channel, he thought 
 it well to make use of Henry to prevent 
 such a mishap. He accordingly added, 
 
 " Is it not your opinion, Mr. Burleigh,
 
 CALTHORPE. 47 
 
 that freedom of speech is the greatest 
 good we can possess ?" 
 
 " I certainly think it a privilege of 
 great value j but at the same time, it ap- 
 pears to me in some cases productive of 
 much inconvenience." 
 
 " Why, so may every good that Hea- 
 ven can bestow," and here the Deputy 
 enlarged, for a quarter of an hour, on the 
 ways in which all that was excellent 
 might be perverted j but still extolling 
 liberty of speech, and insisting that even 
 its abuse was to be treated with lenity 
 and respect. 
 
 " But," said Henry, to whom Mr. 
 Hanson again looked for a reply, " fn 
 proportion as it is valued, the abuse of it 
 ought to be reprobated." 
 
 " Why this is ever the cry of the friends 
 of corruption, who, under the flimsy pre- 
 tence of protecting the right, . would an- 
 nihilate it altogether, and ruin those who 
 are bold and generous enough to stand 
 forth its advocates."
 
 48 CALTHORPE. 
 
 " The rational objections, which may 
 be urged to unrestrained licence of speech, 
 are as capable of misapplication, as free- 
 dom of speech itself is of being perverted. 
 But if I may venture to give my own opi- 
 nion, I should say, that where freedom 
 of speech degenerates into that scurrility 
 which has lately assailed the Parliament, 
 the sovereign, nay, the constitution it- 
 self, it then becomes an evil instead of a 
 good j instead of a blessing, a curse." 
 
 Here the Deputy disposed of another 
 oration in favour of free discussion, which 
 he finished, by asserting the just claims 
 of the people to state those grievances 
 strongly, both to the King and the Par- 
 liament, for which they felt it necessary 
 to call for redress. 
 
 " Let them state them strongly; but 
 they ought to remember those distinctions 
 which that society, of which they are 
 members, and to which they owe what 
 are called their rights, has recognised; and
 
 CALTHORPE. 49 
 
 approach their superiors with respectful 
 deference." 
 
 " Deference !" cried the Deputy, 
 warmly ; " what deference is due ? All 
 men are equal. Nature has made no 
 distinctions." 
 
 " But human institutions have ; and 
 those who avail themselves of so much 
 of these as goes to sanction their interfer- 
 ence at all with the government of the 
 country, have no right to suppose that 
 all but these are to stand for nothing." 
 
 " I say," vociferated he, ** that such a 
 House of Commons as we have now, and 
 I know that my honourable friend near me 
 is of the same opinion, is entitled to no 
 respect. One class of men is as good as 
 another. Unbounded freedom of speech 
 is the inherent right of every Englishman ; 
 and a Common-council or Common-hall 
 is as competent to judge of proper lan- 
 guage as a Commons House ; and I 
 should like to know what you have to 
 say to that, since you are so warm." 
 
 VOL. u. D
 
 50 CALTHORPE. 
 
 " Nay, Sir," replied Henry, " I have 
 merely to say, that I differ from you." 
 
 Mr. Hanson, while contending for 
 universal freedom of speech, had never 
 meant to bargain for its extending to his 
 table, when he deigned to argue with one 
 whom he considered so vastly his inferior 
 as the friendless Henry Burleigh ; and 
 he accordingly answered, with increasing 
 animation 
 
 " I am neither surprised, nor hurt, 
 that a person should differ from me, who 
 denies the Englishman's right to unre- 
 striqted freedom of speech. But, I think, 
 when you talk to me, you might re- 
 collect to whom you are speaking, and 
 not use such insulting language." 
 
 " I had no wish to give offence." 
 
 " No? it seems like it, when you 
 attack a man t his own table, as you 
 have done me; and turn into ridicule 
 every word he says before company." 
 
 " If I have displeased you, or the com- 
 pany, I will immediately retire." 
 
 " I wish you would retire from my
 
 CALTHORPE. 51 
 
 house altogether. I am not used to be 
 contradicted by those I keep out of 
 charity. You may go, Sir, as soon as you 
 please." 
 
 " Very well, Sir ; I can have no wish 
 to stay where I am exposed to such treat- 
 ment." 
 
 And with these words, Henry left the 
 apartment. 
 
 The Deputy, while thus relieving him- 
 self from part of the indignation and 
 rage excited by the conduct of Mrs. 
 Jenkins, kept moving decanters, glasses, 
 and fruit-plates, by nervous snatches, 
 without knowing what he did ; but, after 
 Henry had retired, he soon became more 
 composed, and his spirits, though a little 
 depressed by certain awkward recollec- 
 tions, and overhanging apprehensions, 
 were in tolerable order, by the time he 
 and his friends joined the ladies at the 
 tea-table. 
 
 Every thing went on very pleasantly 
 till the tea and the coffee j the toast 
 D 2
 
 52 . CALTHORPE. 
 
 and the muffins were disposed of, when 
 it was suddenly remarked, that Alex- 
 andrina was missing ; and it was now re- 
 membered, with some degree of surprise, 
 that she had not been seen since the ladies 
 left the gentlemen to their wine. 
 
 All enquiries proved of no avail, and 
 it was soon clearly ascertained that she 
 had left the house ; and, that several 
 valuables had been made the companions 
 of her flight. The Deputy recalled the 
 readiness with which Henry Burleigh 
 had withdrawn himself after dinner, and 
 this circumstance, he connected with the 
 elopement of Alexandrina. Every vestige 
 of doubt, as well as of hope, was soon re- 
 moved by the following note, which was dis- 
 covered in the young lady's dressing room. 
 
 "Dear Ma and Pa, 
 
 " Do not blame your own Alexandrina 
 for the step which she has taken. I know 
 you will think me rash, and that he whom 
 I have chosen to be my protector through
 
 CALTHORPE. 53 
 
 life, is considered my inferior in rank. 
 But love, you know, regards not the 
 distinctions of the world. So, I hope, 
 that you will soon forgive, and open your 
 kind arms, to receive your ever affection- 
 ate daughter, and truly dutiful son-in-law." 
 
 f)rtfi : Jmvh <> 
 
 " O !" sighed Mrs. Hanson, turning up 
 
 her eye. 
 
 . " Good Heavens!" exclaimed the 
 Deputy, turning up his two eyes j and 
 the agonised father sunk into a chair, 
 with an appearance of distress that deeply 
 affected all present. Mrs. Jenkins was 
 particularly shocked, and alarmed, at the 
 situation of her cousin. Expecting to 
 see him swoon the next moment, she 
 snatched a goblet of water which stood 
 on the table, and discharged its contents 
 in the Deputy's face. 
 
 The cooler thus supplied was eminently 
 
 serviceable. It at once revived Mr. 
 
 Hanson, so far as to make him equal to 
 
 the exertion requisite to save the elegant 
 
 D 3
 
 54> CALTHORPE, 
 
 wig which decorated his head, and which 
 had nearly been carried away by the 
 flood j and, this secured, he forgot his 
 tragical dignity so far as to rise and shake 
 his ears, with all convenient expedition. 
 
 One other benefit resulted from the 
 medical skill of Mrs. Jenkins. Mrs. 
 Hanson seemed very much in the same 
 way as her husband, and was making 
 rapid advances towards a fit, but warned 
 by the untimely fate of the Deputy, she 
 took excellent care not to faint. 
 
 "Why, what's all this here fuss about?" 
 cried Mrs. Jenkins. " What's the 
 matter?" 
 
 " Matter enough," returned the De- 
 puty, " I think, since my daughter has 
 run away to marry a beggar." 
 
 " Well, I think he's a very nice young 
 man, and you've not a bit of reason to be 
 ashamed of him for a son-in-law ;" re- 
 marked Mrs. Jenkins, with an infinity of 
 good-humoured glee. 
 
 " Indeed !" replied Mrs. Hanson, " but
 
 CALTHOHPE. 5j 
 
 you forget that he has not a guinea in 
 the world." 
 
 " Well, what's that signify, she's the 
 only chick or child that you need care 
 for, and you can give them money." 
 
 " But don't you know that this vil- 
 lain's father " 
 
 " Pooh ! don't tell me about his father. 
 Are you any the worse because your 
 father was a dealer in marine stores, and 
 your mother a washerwoman ?" 
 
 " I'll tell you what, Mrs. Jenkins," 
 roared the Deputy, " if you come here 
 to insult me and my family " 
 
 " Insult your family I" 
 
 " What do you mean by speaking of 
 Mrs. Hanson's father as you did? If 
 you had had common delicacy, you could 
 not have done so." 
 
 " Do you mean to tell me that ? If I 
 
 had said any thing about old Dabout's 
 
 going of his own accord to America, that 
 
 he might not be sert somewhere else 
 
 D 4
 
 56 CALTHORPE. 
 
 against his will, then, indeed, you might 
 have cried out." 
 
 Here Mrs. Clatter, recovering from a 
 hearty, though silent laugh, exclaimed, 
 in reference to what had just fallen from 
 Mrs. Jenkins, -J^' 
 v " Shameful conduct 1" 
 
 10 pnTT M' T ';ff. ;; iV 
 
 And these words, repeated by the rest 
 of the company, urged the Deputy to 
 
 , ^ or*ifKffi 
 
 " At least you might have remembered 
 that, for once in your life, you were in 
 
 * rvJijfrmi 
 
 good company." 
 
 " Fiddle de dum! Don't tell me, 
 I don't care a halfpenny for your com- 
 pany, nor you neither. I'll let you know 
 I think myself as good as any of you, 
 
 and don't care a dump for you all." 
 
 f j 
 
 With these words, Mrs. Jenkins 
 bounced out of the room, an4 forthwith 
 left the house, pleasing herself with the 
 reflection that, under the circumstances 
 of the case, she had made what every 
 
 -
 
 CALTHORPE. 57 
 
 one must acknowledge to be, a very dig- 
 nified exit. 
 
 This was not the time for the com- 
 pany to enter upon the discussion of the 
 merits of the extraordinary conduct of 
 Mrs. Jenkins. They amused themselves 
 in a more regular way, with a string of 
 reflections on the ingratitude of the lower 
 orders on the folly of allowing servants 
 to consider themselves at all on a footing 
 with their masters and mistresses ; and 
 on the melancholy instances, which every 
 year furnished, of vipers stinging the kind 
 bosoms that nourished them. 
 
 All the enquiries that could be made 
 on the instant, produced no satisfactory 
 information as to the manner, or direc- 
 tion, in which the lovers had fled. It 
 was at length moved by Mrs. Clatter, 
 and seconded by Mrs. Snarl, that inform- 
 ation of what had taken place should 
 be lodged at the police-offices, with a 
 description of the parties. This reso- 
 lution was at once carried, nemine confra- 
 D 5
 
 58 CALTHORPE. 
 
 dicente ; and the porter being out, Mr. 
 Hanson, accompanied by Sir David, and 
 most of the other gentlemen, immediately 
 proceeded to carry it into effect. The 
 ladies remained with Mrs. Hanson, and 
 cried with her, till the gentlemen returned 
 with news that the officers had already 
 received instructions to pursue the fugi- 
 tives. The party then took leave, in- 
 very melancholy mood, and really sorry, 
 if not for the elopement of Miss Hanson, 
 for the abrupt termination of the day's 
 festivity. 
 
 ft rti ttedbf si/ 
 
 . 
 
 ; 
 '
 
 CALTHORPE. 59 
 
 btte >d "baincqmooor ,C 
 
 \ffeif 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 " If you meet a thief, you may suspect him to be 
 no true man : and for such kind of men, the less you 
 meddle or make with them, why, the more is for your 
 honesty." SHAKSPEARE. 
 
 Vv HEN Henfy retired from the house of 
 the Deputy he was alone. It was even- 
 ing, and he walked towards the west end 
 of the town, without having been able 
 to decide what, in the unexpected situ- 
 ation in which he found himself, it would 
 be most prudent to do. His first thought 
 was to return to Richmond ; but when 
 he reflected on the distress which his 
 grief and mortification would not fail 
 to add to the sorrows of his mother and 
 sister, he shrunk from encountering them 
 under such circumstances, and resolved 
 to make some effort that might render 
 this unnecessary. 
 
 D 6
 
 60 CALTHORPE. 
 
 He had no very distinct idea of what 
 lie ought to attempt. He shrunk with 
 strong repugnance from encountering the 
 cold look, affected sympathy, and civil 
 rejection, which sad experience had 
 taught him to expect from those who had 
 once known him ; and yet, to apply for 
 relief in the shape of employment, to 
 those who were quite strangers, if less 
 painful, was equally hopeless. 
 
 Incapable of adopting any decisive 
 resolution, he continued to walk back- 
 wards and forwards in the principal 
 streets of the metropolis, till the evening 
 was far advanced. The shops were nearly 
 all closed, when the strong illumination 
 in one window, with the appearance of a 
 cheerful fire in the back ground, attract- 
 ed his notice. He approached it, and 
 perceived that it was a " coffee shop." 
 A coffee-shop, and a coffee-house, he sup- 
 posed to be nearly the same j and, weary of 
 wandering without an object, he entered, 
 and took a seat in a box near the fire.
 
 CALTHORPE. 6l 
 
 No other person was there, and, secure 
 from observation, he gave himself up to 
 sad reflection on the past, and anxiously 
 sought in vain to discover some directing 
 star of hope, to guide him through the 
 dreary future. 
 
 Thus mentally engaged, it was mid- 
 night when he perceived that the seats, 
 which were empty when -he went in, had 
 become peopled with wretched-looking 
 beings, such as he had never seen under 
 the same roof with himself before. 
 
 A blind man, attended by a little boy, 
 was recounting to a pye-man the particu- 
 lars of a most unprincipled attack on his 
 just rights and privileges, that had been 
 made by a brother-mendicant, who car- 
 ried an organ, and who had approached 
 with his music, the spot on which the 
 complainant had been accustomed to ask 
 alms. The pye-man and the beggar 
 voted this to be very dishonest, and both 
 agreed that the times were worse than 
 any that had ever been known before.
 
 62 CALTHOUPE, 
 
 A bill-sticker, one of the same party, 
 was of this way of thinking. That things 
 were never so bad, he was quite certain. 
 He had known the time, when he could 
 get twice as mach (and more than that) 
 than he could now, and when hardly a 
 week passed without bringing to light 
 some daring robbery or horrid murder, 
 that set all the town alive. Rewards 
 were offered in every direction, and peo- 
 ple running to and fro, in such a state of 
 alarm and consternation, that there was 
 plenty for every body to do. 
 
 Near this group two shabbily attired 
 females were seated. The elder of the two 
 affectionately anxious for the prosperity 
 of her friend, was kindly instructing her 
 in the best way of making her hands 
 hard, and keeping them so, that she 
 might always pass for a servant who had 
 but just come out of place. 
 
 Another party, engaged in convers- 
 ation, spoke in whispers. From these, 
 several enquiring glances were directed
 
 CALTHOKPE. 63 
 
 towards the young stranger, who had 
 evidently become the subject of their 
 conversation. 
 
 Henry no sooner found what company 
 surrounded him, than he became anxious 
 to quit the place. He could not do so at 
 the moment, as the mistress of the house, 
 who generally stretched out one hand for 
 the money, before she ventured to de- 
 liver the article called for, with the other, 
 had omitted this ceremony in his case, 
 and she was now so much occupied, that 
 he could not immediately obtain her at- 
 tention. She was not yet at leisure, 
 when a Jacobinical song was begun, and 
 this, though it made his situation still 
 more irksome, compelled him to keep his 
 seat, as the impatience of the crew it was 
 intended to entertain, when silence was 
 not observed, made him reluctant to fix 
 their attention on him, by what they 
 would have regarded as an unpardonable 
 breach of good manners. 
 
 When the song concluded, a speech
 
 O4 CALTHOHPE. 
 
 was commenced on the necessity of a 
 radical reform. This was rudely inter- 
 rupted by the exclamation of 
 
 " None of your political gab here,'' 
 from one of the ladies before noticed, 
 who then stood up for a reel. The tune 
 called " The Sprig of Shillelagh," was 
 extorted from a broken fiddle, the pro- 
 perty of the blind man ; and a dance was 
 commenced. 
 
 All was at length comparatively quiet, 
 and Henry succeeded in finding an op- 
 portunity of enquiring what he had to 
 pay. The mistress of the house was 
 recalling the refreshment which he had 
 taken to memory, while, with an econo- 
 mical regard to time which had become 
 habitual, she was fumbling in her pocket 
 for copper to give change, when a whistle 
 at the front of the house, disturbed her 
 calculation, and she flew to the door, to 
 let in another customer. 
 
 A police-officer entered, and was re- 
 ceived with very respectful looks by the
 
 CALTHORPE, &5 
 
 whole company. He threw a glance 
 round the room, and recognised several 5 
 but when be came to the party who had 
 carried on their conversation in whispers, 
 he was at once accosted as an old friend. 
 
 sft . Ah ! Mr. Birdlime, how do you do ?" 
 
 3&J hope you're very well Mr. 
 Fishook," replied the officer ; at the 
 same time shaking the person most 
 cordially by the hand. 
 
 .f^ What are you after ? any thing 
 particular? or are you only taking ac- 
 count of your live-stock ?" 
 
 $. That's all," said Mr. Birdlime. 
 " I've been doing nothing else of late. 
 I never knew things so much at a stand 
 in my life." 
 
 " But what will you take to drink 
 Mr. Birdlime ?" 
 
 " Why if I take any thing it must be a 
 drop of brandy and water." 
 
 A glass of brandy and water was im- 
 mediately ordered by Mr. Fishook, for 
 the police-officer. It was produced with-
 
 66 CALTHORPE. 
 
 out delay by the landlady of the coffee 
 shop, (the want of a spirit-licence not 
 being thought of by either party,) and 
 paid for by Mr. Fishook. 
 
 Henry at length settled his reckoning. 
 While doing so, he was narrowly observed 
 by the officer, who, putting down his 
 unfinished glass, referred to a paper 
 which he produced from his pocket. He 
 then affected to resume the conversation. 
 
 " Why, yes, as I was saying, things are 
 sadly at a stand. I've got nothing all 
 the week, but one easy ten shillings" 
 
 " How did you manage that ?" 
 
 " A woman, (she said her husband was 
 killed in the battle of Talavera,) begged 
 my advice at the door of the office. She 
 cried, and said she had nothing to eat ; 
 so I gave her two-pence, then walked 
 her before the magistrate, and sent her 
 off to Bridewell as a beggar, and touched 
 the ten shillings on her committal." 
 
 All laughed at this, as a very clever 
 exploit. Henry had by this time passed
 
 CALTHORPE. 67 
 
 to the door, when he was suddenly- 
 seized by the officer, with the exclam- 
 ation 
 
 " Hold hard ! You're not gone yet." 
 
 Henry started with amazement, at 
 rinding himself in the grasp of the thief- 
 taker. 
 
 " What do you mean ?" 
 
 " That you're my prisoner j that's 
 all." 
 
 " Be careful what you do, Sir. Here 
 must be some mistake." 
 
 " Not a bit of it." 
 
 " You certainly mistake me for some 
 other person." 
 
 " Yes, I dare say I do. You'd better 
 persuade me to it. Come, come, you 
 may as well drop it. It's no use trying 
 to gammon me. Your name's Henry 
 Burleigh. Here's the description. It's 
 all right to a button. You've been rob- 
 bing your master." 
 
 Surprise took from Henry the power 
 of making any reply, and this was quite
 
 68 CALTHORFE. 
 
 sufficient to satisfy the officer of his 
 identity and guilt. The latter proceeded 
 with little delay to search his prize. He 
 found none of the valuables which Mr. 
 Hanson had said were missing ; but he 
 deemed it prudent to take charge of 
 what little money Henry happened to 
 have about him, considering that this 
 might be recognised, or made the means 
 of tracing those to whom the property 
 had been sold. He however humanely 
 offered to accommodate his prisoner with 
 a coach to the compter, and for this he 
 only charged half a guinea, (the expence 
 of calling the vehicle included,) which 
 must be considered a remarkable instance 
 of moderation, as Mr. Birdlime had to 
 pay out of his own pocket, no less than 
 eighteen-pence! 
 

 
 CALTHORPE. 6'9 
 
 -te ; ol If 
 
 h9b-> ^ l[T 
 
 :"#fc' 
 biffw B9l<J.<- 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 : tO. 9T: ' 9 ' ni 
 
 " I was not in a humour to relish the climax of ex- 
 pressions, upon which this gentleman valued himself, in 
 all his discourses ; but, without any ceremony, took my 
 leave, cursed with every sentiment of horror which my 
 situation could suggest." RODERICK RANDOM. 
 
 ON the following morning, after a night 
 of sleepless sorrow, Henry was conveyed 
 to the justice-room at the Mansion- 
 house, to be examined on the subject of 
 the robbery with which he had been 
 charged. Before leaving the Compter 
 lie had been waited upon by a messenger, 
 who offered, on the part of Mr. Hanson, 
 to drop the proceedings, (out of respect 
 for the memory of the late Mr. Burleigh,) 
 if Henry would consent to tell where 
 Alexandrina was to be found. The an- 
 swer to this overture need not be stated. 
 It is sufficient to say that it confirmed
 
 70 CALTHOI^PE. 
 
 the Deputy in his former resolution to 
 let the law take its course. 
 
 The Lord Mayor was absent that day, 
 and his friend, who had been the Chief 
 Magistrate the year before, and to whom 
 Henry had been introduced, filled his 
 place. A peer of high rank, whose at- 
 tachment to good eating and drinking, 
 induced him to grace with his presence, 
 almost every day, the dinners given by 
 the worthy Alderman during his Mayor- 
 alty, still adhered to his friend, and was 
 now r seated on his right hand. The ex- 
 Lord Mayor was anxious to display his 
 sagacity before his august acquaintance, 
 and the elated simper which played on 
 the nobleman's countenance, spoke him 
 fully prepared to applaud the decisions 
 of this Solomon the Second. 
 
 Mr. Hanson preferred his charge, and 
 gave a pathetic description of the misery 
 brought on his family by the unprincipled 
 return, which Henry had made for all 
 his kindness, Henry replied, by asserting
 
 CALTHORPE. 71 
 
 his total ignorance of the flight of Alex- 
 andrina, and by a simple recital of those 
 facts, with which the reader is already 
 acquainted. 
 
 The worthy Alderman having heard 
 the two statements, desired to know 
 what had been found on the prisoner's 
 person when the officer searched him. 
 Mr. Birdlime exhibited a pocket-book 
 and one or two trifling articles ; but made 
 no mention of the little money that had 
 fallen into his hands. 
 
 The Magistrate had enquired what 
 property had been discovered on the 
 prisoner's person, under the idea that 
 some of the missing articles, if discovered 
 in his possession, would at once establish 
 his connection with the elopement of 
 Miss Hanson ; but when it turned out 
 that nothing of the kind could be pro- 
 duced, it at once struck him that this 
 circumstance made more strongly against 
 the accused, than any other could by 
 possibility have done. 
 
 He accordingly remarked, that " it
 
 7'2 CALTHORPE. 
 
 was certainly, perhaps, a most suspicious 
 circumstance, that he (the prisoner) 
 should have none of the property about 
 him, that he was supposed to have carried 
 off; because it naturally led to the con- 
 clusion that he had artfully deposited 
 that, together with the young lady, in a 
 place of safety." 
 
 This sagacious inference, called forth a 
 smile of perfect unqualified approbation 
 from the Peer. 
 
 The Judge then thought fit to advise 
 tiie supposed culprit to confess where 
 the young lady was concealed, and, as 
 the answer which this called forth was 
 unsatisfactory, he proceeded to bestow a 
 very dignified reproof on the prisoner, at 
 the time lamenting, in the most pathetic 
 language, the hardened mind which this 
 obstinacy evinced. Finally, he spoke as 
 follows : 
 
 " I am sure that, perhaps, certainly I 
 ought to commit you at once for trial. 
 Nothing has certainly been found upon 
 18 '
 
 CALTHORPE. 73 
 
 you, but that is, perhaps, more against 
 you than for you, as it seems to prove 
 that you were cunning enough to conceal 
 what you had purloined, before you were 
 taken. The place, and the company in 
 which you were found, considered, per- 
 haps I ought certainly to commit; but, in 
 the hope that you will think better of the 
 advice I have given you, I shall remand 
 you till Friday/' 
 
 The nobleman repeated his smirk of 
 approbation, and, till Friday, Henry 
 would certainly have been remanded, 
 had not Mr. Hanson, who was called 
 out of the justice-room at the com- 
 mencement of the preceding speech, now 
 returned with intelligence, that from in- 
 formation which he had that moment re- 
 ceived, it was plain that it was not with 
 the prisoner that Miss Alexandrina had 
 eloped j and he, therefore, made it his 
 request that Henry might forthwith be 
 discharged. 
 
 This recommendation was enforced 
 
 VOL. II. E
 
 74 CALTHORPE. 
 
 with great earnestness by the Common- 
 councilman. His anxiety on the occa- 
 sion, grew not on any feeling of com- 
 punction or regret, for the misery and 
 shame to which he had subjected the 
 unfortunate prisoner ; but, it occurred to 
 him, that Henry might bring an action 
 against him for false imprisonment, and 
 he thought it not improbable, that some 
 legal friend of his father might be in- 
 duced to take his case in hand, where 
 there was so fair a prospect of success. 
 
 The worthy Alderman discharged the 
 prisoner ; but not till after he had treated 
 him with a solemn admonition to abstain 
 from the evil paths, in which it was but 
 too plain that he was disposed to tread. 
 He added, " He could not but lament 
 that the misconduct of so young a man, 
 should have been so great, as to cause 
 him even to be suspected of that which 
 had brought him there, at the instance of 
 the worthy Deputy, who (he could speak 
 from his own observation) had certainly,
 
 CALTHORPE. 7^> 
 
 perhaps, treated him more like a son 
 than a servant." 
 
 " Yes, my Lord !" replied Henry, fired 
 at the imputed ingratitude, " such, in- 
 deed, was the conduct of Mr. Hanson, 
 while present prosperity, and the prospect 
 of future wealth, lifted me above the 
 want of his indulgence. But since, 
 overtaken by calamity, I have wanted a 
 friend, he has doomed me to all the suf- 
 fering that insolent pride could inflict." 
 
 " Take him away !" cried the Alder- 
 man ;" and his reproving glance, with 
 that of the nobleman, replied to the 
 presumption which had dared to repel 
 calumny. Mr. Hanson said nothing ; for, 
 besides that he had never been famous 
 even in the Court of Common-council for 
 replies, which cannot be so conveniently 
 written off' and got by rote as opening 
 speeches, he was at present too much 
 agitated to think of attempting a display 
 of eloquence. The news which had pro- 
 cured Henry his release, did not prove 
 E 2
 
 76 CALTHORPE. 
 
 to the citizen of a very consoling charac- 
 ter, since it only satisfied him that Alex- 
 andrina had not gone off with his clerk, 
 to assure him that she had that morning 
 been " united in Hymen's silken bands," 
 (as romance writers and readers genteelly 
 call the trammels of matrimony,) to his 
 porter. 
 
 Henry left the justice-room, and de- 
 scending the steps on the outside of the 
 Mansion-house, encountered Mr. Bird- 
 lime. He expected that the money which 
 had been taken from him would now be 
 returned. But as it seemed to have escaped 
 the officer's memory, he ventured to re- 
 mind him that he had something in his 
 possession which he had no right to retain. 
 
 " Why," said Mr. Birdlime, " from 
 the bother you make, a body'd think you 
 had all the money in the world about 
 you, when you were caught. In the first 
 place, there was half-a-guineafor a coach; 
 then there was ten shillings for a bed, 
 five shillings for tea, a shilling for a sheet 
 of paper, sixpence for a pen, and a
 
 CALTHORPfii 77 
 
 guinea for a coach this morning; and 
 after that, I should like to know what 
 there is out of three pounds to pay for 
 my trouble and attention ?" 
 
 Burleigh was so confounded at hear- 
 ing these reasonable charges enumerated, 
 that he could make no answer. A laugh 
 burst from the police-officer and two or 
 three of his colleagues, at the application; 
 and he retired, in order to escape further 
 ridicule. 
 
 The irresolution and painful embarrass* 
 ment, which had caused him to wander 
 for hours in the streets of the metropolis 
 on the preceding evening, returned. He 
 had previously shrunk from revisiting his 
 mother and sister, and he felt more re- 
 luctance than before to make them ac- 
 quainted with his sufferings now, when, 
 in addition to all the rest, he had been 
 confined for a night in a prison, and car- 
 ried through the streets of London like a 
 common thief. A friend of his father's, 
 established in Canada, had written since 
 E 3
 
 78 CALTHORPE. 
 
 Henry came from Lord Burleigh's to Mr. 
 Hanson, to know if Mr Burleigh (the 
 news of whose death had not then 
 reached America) could recommend to 
 him a respectable young man of good 
 education, to go out there. The situ- 
 ation described to be vacant, he thought 
 he should like to fill ; but how was he to 
 get there ? He had no money of his own : 
 from his mother he would not receive the 
 sum necessary to pay his passage, as such 
 a charge could not be conveniently met 
 out of her scanty means; and he recol- 
 lected no other person to whom he could 
 apply for pecuniary aid. 
 
 Suddenly it occurred to him, that Sir 
 Jaraes Denville had expressed the most 
 eager anxiety to prove himself grateful 
 for the advantages, which he had derived 
 from the professional skill and steadfast 
 friendship of the deceased Mr. Burleigh ; 
 and to the Baronet Henry determined to 
 apply, for a small loan, which he doubted
 
 CALTJHORPE. 79 
 
 not, on his arrival in America, it would 
 b# in his power immediately to repay. 
 
 Having made up. his mind, he pro- 
 ceeded without loss of time to an hotel 
 at the west end of the town, where Sir 
 James usually put up. Here he was in- 
 formed that the Baronet was gone on a 
 visit to Stamford- Hill, Stoke Newington; 
 and thither Henry determined to follow 
 him. 
 
 It was evening when he found himself 
 at the door of the mansion to which he 
 had been directed. Sir James was within, 
 alone, and at leisure ; and on sending in 
 his name, Henry was at once admitted 
 to his presence. He was received most 
 graciously. The Baronet expressed much 
 pleasure at seeing him in good health; 
 and before he had time to say a word on 
 the business that had brought him there, 
 declared that he should at all times be 
 ready to do every thing in his power to 
 serve him. 
 
 4
 
 80 CALTHORPE. 
 
 This opened the way in the most 
 agreeable manner for the application 
 which Henry intended to make. The 
 Baronet heard his recital with the utmost 
 attention and sympathy, and seemed 
 to feel real indignation at the unwor- 
 thy treatment, which the son of his old 
 friend had received from the Hansons. 
 
 All this was in the highest degree 
 favourable ; but, when Henry came to 
 make known his plan, and to solicit the 
 loan of forty pounds to enable him to 
 carry it into effect, the Baronet, became 
 more serious than before, and evidently 
 felt, that it was one thing to promise 
 that he would do all in his power to 
 serve a friend, and another to lend that 
 friend forty pounds. 
 
 Henry saw Sir James produce a pocket- 
 book, and was in hopes that he was about 
 to take from it the sum for which he had 
 applied j but, instead of this, the Baronet 
 opened it but to refer him to certain
 
 CALTHORPE. 81 
 
 items of expenditure, which it contained, 
 all of which, he had to settle in the 
 course of the next fortnight, and that 
 required a total sum exceeding any thing 
 at his command, by not less than two 
 hundred pounds. 
 
 Henry then preferred a request for half 
 the amount which he had in the first in- 
 stance asked, and ventured to remark, that 
 he should hope the additional pressure of 
 so small a sum, would hardly be felt among 
 the larger claims on the Baronet's pro- 
 perty. 
 
 " Aye, my dear friend," replied Sir 
 James, " that is what every one would 
 suggest ; but, really, these small sums are 
 of great importance, and if I were to 
 answer every small claim, upon my honour, 
 I should not have a guinea left for myself. 
 To be sure, lending to you, I need not 
 do as much for others ; but every body 
 else says the same thing." 
 
 A loud knock was heard as he com- 
 menced this speech, and it was hardly 
 E 5
 
 82 CALTHORPE. 
 
 finished, when the door of the room burst 
 open, and a man of rather mean ap- 
 pearance entered. He was about sixty 
 years of age ; an air of careless jollity sat 
 on his countenance, and he did not think 
 ceremony or circumlocution at all ne- 
 cessary, while addressing a baronet. 
 Advancing with a confident air, he soon 
 made his errand known, by rudely ac- 
 costing the man of title in these words : 
 
 " I say, I want a hundred." 
 
 Sir James appeared at once abashed 
 and incensed ; but the rage which glis- 
 tened in his eye, and quivered on his 
 lips, was not committed to his tongue. 
 He merely replied, in a tone of displeasure, 
 
 "You are always wanting something." 
 
 " You are undutiful enough to say so. 
 But come the cash." 
 
 " I have none at present." 
 
 " Then borrow some." 
 
 " Can you not call in the morning ?" 
 
 ". To be told that you are gone ? Not I 
 indeed. Do you think that I am going
 
 CALTHORPE. 83 
 
 tobe put offlike one of your trades-people ? 
 No, no ; that will never do. The money, 
 the money." 
 
 " Well, Mr. Bufleigh," said Sir James, 
 apparently anxious to be relieved from 
 the presence of a witness to this singular 
 scene, " have you any thing more to say 
 to me." 
 
 The tone and manner which accom- 
 panied these words, very distinctly in- 
 timated, that the absence of the person 
 to whom they were addressed, would be 
 agreeable. Henry could not affect to 
 misunderstand them, and accordingly 
 answered, 
 
 " Nothing, Sir James.'* At the same 
 time rising to take his leave. 
 
 The Baronet attended him to the door, 
 remarking in a low tone, that he had now 
 had an opportunity of seeing how pres- 
 sing his creditors were. 
 
 " Come, make haste, do," the voice 
 within called out j and Henry, filled with 
 E 6
 
 84 CALTHORPE. 
 
 surprise at the conduct of the man he had 
 seen, found himself hastily dismissed 
 with expressions of regret, and promises 
 of future friendship, but without any 
 present relief. 
 
 1 
 
 ad..;.. 
 Sifiori ?(.
 
 CALTHORPE. 85 
 
 --" 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 " 'Twas, as the watchmen say, a cloudy night ; 
 
 No moon, no stars, the wind was low or loud 
 By gusts, and many a sparkling hearth was bright : 
 With the piled wood, round which the family crowd." 
 
 LORD BYRON. 
 
 STUNG to the heart by his recent disap- 
 pointment, and pondering on the unac- 
 countable conduct of the individual he 
 had left with Sir James Denville, Henry 
 now sadly retraced his steps, or attempted 
 to do so. From Islington he had passed 
 through fields to Stamford-Hill, and he 
 proposed to return by the same route ; 
 but it was not of importance whither he 
 directed his steps, as no friendly house 
 was open to receive him j and being lite- 
 rally pennyless, he could not seek accom- 
 modation at any inn or public-house, 
 which he might find in his way. It was, 
 therefore, to him a matter of small con-
 
 86 CALTHORPE. 
 
 cern, to know that he had somewhat 
 deviated from the track, which hjjrhad 
 thought of pursuing, as he made up his 
 mind to wander all night, and if no other 
 source of relief should suggest itself, to 
 enlist at the first recruiting-station, 
 which he could find in the morning. 
 
 Chance conducted him to a field in 
 which several stacks or clamps of newly 
 made bricks had been raised, into the 
 centre of which fire had been intro- 
 duced, which was now seen, burning 
 more or less fierce in all of them. In 
 some it was scarcely perceptible, in 
 others it had made its way to the exte* 
 rior of the erections, and a vivid glare 
 within was surmounted by small flicker- 
 ing spiral columns of blue flame, of ex- 
 quisite brightness without. Henry had 
 fasted since the morning, but the agi- 
 tation of his mind had prevented him 
 from feeling any inconvenience, through 
 want of food. The cold and damp of 
 the night had chilled him, as, advancing 
 15
 
 CALTHORPE. 87 
 
 without an object, his pace had been 
 unifBally slow, and that warmth which 
 exercise is calculated to give and to 
 sustain, was wanting to his care-worn 
 frame. He therefore approached one of 
 the burning masses, and felt, in the heat 
 which proceeded from it, something that 
 reminded him of comfort. 
 
 While still courting the wretched so- 
 lace thus afforded, and calculating on the 
 many miserable hours which had to 
 elapse, before the return of day would 
 enable him to determine on any thing, 
 or at least to carry any determination 
 into effect, he shrunk from the idea of 
 quitting the spot on which he then found 
 himself, to walk the dreary streets of the 
 metropolis. He was disposed to lie down, 
 when he perceived on one of the clamps, 
 which seemed to have been but recently 
 lighted, a large quantity of straw in 
 trusses. It struck him that the mode- 
 rate heat, which the newly kindled fire 
 would supply at the top of the mass,
 
 88 CALTHORPE. 
 
 together with the straw, would furnish 
 a much better resting-place than the 
 ground, and there he decided to take up 
 his lodging for the night. 
 
 With some difficulty he ascended the 
 selected pile, by displacing several of the 
 bricks to give him foot-hold. Having 
 reached the top, he removed some of the 
 bundles of straw, insinuated his person 
 under others, and having given one truss 
 superior elevation to make it serve for a 
 pillow, he laid himself down, and listened 
 with melancholy interest, to the faint and 
 distant murmur that seemed to rise from 
 the metropolis, to the barking of the 
 watchful dogs in the surrounding villages, 
 and to the crowing of a cock at no great 
 distance ; a sound, which, he remembered 
 to have heard, was a certain "omen of 
 death to some one of those who listened 
 to it, when it announced the approach 
 of midnight instead of the return of day. 
 
 The noises which, from the silence that 
 prevailed in his immediate vicinity, caught
 
 CALTHORPE. 89 
 
 his attention, when he first threw himself 
 on his cheerless bed, were too remote to 
 disturb or to intrude long on his mind. 
 All seemed to harmonise in one drowsy 
 hum, to lull his harassed senses to for- 
 getfulness. He was just sinking to sleep, 
 when he started, and thought that he 
 heard approaching steps. But, as on listen- 
 ing he heard no more, he considered it 
 an illusion, and the next moment his eyes 
 were closed in slumber. 
 
 He had rested several hours, when the 
 truss of straw which served for his pillow, 
 not having been very carefully deposited 
 on that which had sustained it, rolled 
 off; and the sudden alteration of his 
 position made him awake. The unusual 
 situation in which he found himself, 
 made him start up in wild surprise. 
 The darkness which had prevailed was 
 hardly broken by the first peep of the 
 morning. A faint, sulphureous, dis- 
 agreeable smell, invaded his nostrils ; he 
 perceived that the fire had greatly in-
 
 90 CALTHORPE. 
 
 creased while he slept, and the difficulty 
 with which he drew his breath, did not 
 fail to suggest to him that had he not 
 been disturbed by the accident just men- 
 tioned, it was more than probable that 
 he should have been disturbed no more. 
 
 Having disengaged himself from tjie 
 straw, he was about to advance to the 
 edge of the clamp, when he observed, 
 within two or three feet of the spot on 
 which he had reposed, and immediately 
 over the fiercest part of the growing fire, 
 something black. He touched it with 
 his foot, and perceived that it was a 
 man's hat, and saw, almost close to it, a 
 human being extended at full length, ap- 
 parently asleep. He drew near the 
 sleeper, and from a faint noise in his 
 throat, he suspected that he was at that 
 moment about to expire from suffocation. 
 
 Henry hastily snatched the wretched 
 man from the place to which his body 
 seemed tohave attracted the strongest fire, 
 and endeavoured to rouse him to a sense of
 
 CALTHOKfE. 91 
 
 \. 
 
 his danger ; but a death-nteajjtupor had 
 fallen on him, and not the slightest 
 symptom of returning reason answered 
 to his cares. Conveyed to the edge of the 
 bricks, his respiration became less in- 
 terrupted j but, the fire seemed to pursue, 
 j^enry found himself extremely em- 
 barrassed. He had no means of lowering 
 his charge gradually to the ground ; if he 
 suffered the poor man to remain where 
 he lay, death was inevitable ; and, if he 
 threw him off, the wretched being must, in 
 all human probability, be killed by the fall. 
 
 While thus pausing, he perceived some 
 one draw near. A voice accosted him 
 
 " What, are you there, Moulder ?" 
 
 Henry did not understand the salut- 
 ation ; but it afforded him satisfaction to 
 find that assistance was at hand j and he 
 replied, 
 
 "I am not the person you suppose? 
 but here is a poor man in a dying state, 
 whom I wish you would assist me to re- 
 
 move."
 
 92 CALTHORPE. 
 
 The brick-maker to whom this reply 
 was given, started, equally surprised at 
 the unknown voice which had answered 
 him, and the intelligence which it 
 conveyed. It was still so dark, that he 
 could only discover the figure of a man on 
 the bricks, whom, in the first instance, he 
 had mistaken for one of his fellow-labour- 
 ers in the fields. Admonished to use ex- 
 pedition, he soon procured a small ladder, 
 which had been used in erecting the 
 clamp, and the sufferer was lowered to 
 the ground without sustaining any ad- 
 ditional injury or pain. The patient was 
 recognised by the labourer to be one of 
 his companions in toil on the preceding 
 day, and the liveliest sorrow was expressed 
 for his present condition. They lifted 
 the sick man to a little frail erection, 
 eovered-in with reeds a but open on three 
 sides to the winds, in which he had been 
 engaged in making bricks on the pre- 
 ceding day. The covering just mentioned, 
 was provided merely to save the Brick-
 
 CALTHORPE. 93 
 
 makers from the heat of the sun. The 
 moulds and other articles used in the 
 exercise of their industry, were of 
 such small value, that they could be 
 left thus exposed through the night 
 without fear of robbers; and large 
 masses of clay in different stages of pre- 
 paration, mixed with heaps of sand, filled 
 up the" space beneath, and made it a task 
 of some difficulty to clear a resting place 
 for the sufferer. The brick-maker pro- 
 posed to convey him to the dwelling of 
 his brother, distant about half a mile. In 
 this undertaking Burleigh offered to co- 
 operate ; a board was procured, on which 
 the poor fellow was placed, and another 
 person, who knew him, having arrived, 
 and tendered assistance, he was soon 
 carried to the abode of his relation. 
 
 The hovel at which they stopped, con- 
 tained but one room. The entrance was 
 defended by a horse-shoe nailed to the 
 sill of the door, and the era of the erec- 
 tion of this edifice was commemorated by
 
 94 CALTHORPE. 
 
 small pebbles inserted in the clayey plas- 
 ter over the little casement, so as to form 
 the figures 1789. Within, the joyous 
 voices of children were heard, and two 
 ragged little boys and a girl without 
 shoes and stockings, answered the la- 
 bourer's knock. Their father was just 
 going forth to the labour of the day, and 
 his wife was occupied in pinning up some 
 bread and cheese in a coarse cloth to be 
 carried with him. They were shocked at 
 perceiving the situation of their brother, 
 whom they supposed to be on the point 
 of expiring ; and the good woman having 
 inveighed against the folly of sleeping on 
 clamps or brick-kilns, by which so many 
 had lost their lives, left the hut to seek 
 for some one to pray by the unconscious 
 and apparently dying man. 
 
 It appeared that the individual, who 
 had been Henry's bed fellow, was a very 
 industrious character, and was accustomed 
 to gain very considerably by his earnings 
 as a moulder, during the brick-making
 
 CALTHORPE. Q5 
 
 season ; but being unfortunately addicted 
 to liquor, it frequently happened that he 
 kept out till it became too late to go 
 to his home, and on such occasions he was 
 accustomed to sleep on the bricks, that 
 he might be ready to resume his toil in 
 the morning, the moment his assistants 
 arrived. 
 
 Three low chairs,- a small round table, 
 a stump bedstead, and its appurtenances, 
 formed the furniture of the cabin. The 
 patient was laid on the bed, and Henry 
 thought that he perceived some improve- 
 ment in his breathing. His assistance was 
 no longer necessary, and as his presence 
 could not be wanted where there was so 
 little room to spare, he was about to leave 
 the hut, when the mistress of it returned, 
 having accomplished the object of her 
 errand, by procuring the assistance of 
 the person she had sought to afford reli- 
 gious comfort to her relation. Henry 
 turned away on perceiving that she was 
 accompanied by Kendall, who, now enter-
 
 96 CALTHQRPE. 
 
 ing the cottage, addressed to the friends 
 of the sick man the language of soothing 
 kindness, and after a few moments, a 
 solemn, appropriate, and affecting prayer 
 was heard to ascend from the side of the 
 couch, for the sufferer's recovery here, and 
 for his happiness hereafter, Henry was 
 struck by the expressive energy which de- 
 votion and charity supplied to an unedu- 
 catedmechanic, andblushed while he com- 
 pared the situation in which he now found 
 himself, with that in which he stood, when 
 he last saw Mr. Kendall. Then, he turned 
 from a good man engaged in an act of 
 charity, because he wished not to offend 
 the pride of Mr. Hanson ; now, he con- 
 cealed his face from shame, lest the me- 
 lancholy reverse in his own fortunes, 
 should move the pity of the individual 
 whom he had blushed for having known. 
 The first wish of those who had sent for 
 him complied with, Mr. Kendall directed 
 the brother to go to a medical man ir his 
 name. Conversing on the subject of the
 
 CALTHORPE. 97 
 
 accident, mention was made of the gen- 
 tleman who, sleeping in the same place, 
 had been the first to discover the suf- 
 ferer. Henry was referred to, and Ken- 
 dall perceived in a moment that it was 
 the son of the late Mr. Burleigh. 
 
 Great indeed was the surprise of Mr. 
 Kendall, at finding Henry in such com- 
 pany, and at learning where he had 
 sought a lodging on the preceding night. 
 But he refrained from the expression of 
 his sorrow till they had left the hovel. 
 Then his pressing solicitations gained 
 from Henry a recital of the misfortunes 
 he had known since the death of his fa- 
 ther ; and of the circumstances which 
 had produced their present meeting. 
 
 Compelled to accompany Mr. Kendall 
 to his home a,t Islington, Henry there 
 found the rest and refreshment, of which 
 he stood so much in need. In the course 
 of the morning, Mr. Kendall, on hearing 
 what had occurred to his guest, with 
 
 VOL. II. F
 
 8 CALTttORPE. 
 
 respect to Canada, expressed a hope thai 
 it might not be necessary for him to go 
 so far from his native land, as within a 
 few days from the time at which he was 
 speaking, an application had been made, 
 to a gentleman of his acquaintance, from 
 Hamburgh, for a young Englishman of 
 character, to fill an important situation 
 in a banking-house, and he had reason to 
 hope that it was not yet filled up. On 
 this subject he promised to make en- 
 quiries that afternoon. 
 
 At one o'clock the dinner-cloth was 
 spread. Comfort and cleanliness pre- 
 vailed j but there was no affectation of 
 splendour, and no attempt at luxury. 
 One plain joint smoked on the table, and 
 one mug of home-brewed malt-liquor 
 was its companion. Mrs. Kendall and 
 her daughters joined with their husband 
 and father, to 
 
 " Press the bashful stranger to his food;" 
 
 and content threw a charm over their
 
 CALTHORPE. 99 
 
 simple and frugal repast, which is often 
 wanting at the most sumptuous banquet 
 that pomp and profusion can supply. No 
 wine, no dessert followed ; but a devout 
 expression of thankfulness to Heaven for 
 the refection enjoyed closed the scene, 
 and Kendall applied himself to his busi- 
 ness ; while Henry, admiring the happy 
 humility of his lot, saw with pleasure that 
 wealth and grandeur were not necessary 
 to happiness, and in secret wished that 
 his destiny had been like that of his 
 benevolent friend. 
 
 It was four in the afternoon, when Mr. 
 Kendall closed his toil for the day, and 
 wenf to seek information on the subject 
 of the situation which he had hopes of 
 obtaining for Henry. Cheered by the 
 prospect which had thus unexpectedly 
 opened, the latter felt half-disposed to 
 carry the news to his mother and sister. 
 But, anxious first to learn the result of 
 Mr. Kendall's friendly effort, and the 
 distance from Islington to Richmond 
 F 9,
 
 100 j*. . CALTHORPE, 
 
 i& 
 
 V 1 
 
 being ^considerable, he was induced to 
 abandon the idea for that night, and he 
 made up his mind to avail himself of 
 Mr. Kendall's offer of a bed. 
 
 Mr. Kendall did not return so soon as 
 he had been expected. When he found 
 that it was past one in the morning, 
 Henry felt some uneasiness, and was 
 astonished to find that Mrs. Kendall and 
 her daughters, who continued to sit up 
 for him, experienced no alarm. The 
 wife said he was frequently employed by 
 benevolent persons, to be the bearer of 
 their benefactions to those who were in 
 distress; and performing this duty, he 
 often walked so far that it was late be- 
 fore he could return. While she was 
 speaking, the clock struck two, and 
 Mr. Kendall knocked at the door. 
 
 " Well, my young friend," said he to 
 Henry, who had hastened to let him in, 
 " I have succeeded." Tears of rapture 
 bounded from his benevolent heart to In's 
 eyes, while he spoke, and the ecstatic
 
 CALTHORPE. 1,01 
 
 ;**' . 
 
 glow with which he added, " Th situ- 
 ation is yours," spoke his transport, great 
 as it was pure, and the worthy reward of 
 the virtue from which it sprung. 
 
 Henry remembered how Lord Burleigh 
 had announced what he called success ; 
 and the contrast between his manner, 
 and that of Mr. Kendall, so far over- 
 powered him, that he could only reply 
 by pressing the kind hand of his friend 
 to his grateful bosoni* 
 
 When a little more composed, Henry 
 added, to the expression of his thanks, 
 that of his determination to go to Rich- 
 mond in the course of the morning. 
 
 " Do so," said Mr* Kendall ; " your 
 honoured mother and sister will be re- 
 joiced to see you, I can tell you that, 
 young gentleman." 
 
 " I cannot doubt it Sir; and I am 
 impatient to make them acquainted with 
 the pleasing tidings which you have 
 brought." 
 
 F 3
 
 102 CALTHORPE. 
 
 " About that you need give yourself 
 
 no concern, for they already know all." 
 Si r ? 
 
 " Aware that you would be anxious to 
 communicate agreeable intelligence, with 
 the least possible loss of time, when J 
 was at Knightsbridge, and had settled it, 
 I thought I might as well go on to 
 Richmond, and break the matter to them 
 
 myself." 
 
 j 
 
 Henry gazed on Mr. Kendall with un- 
 speakable surprise. That an aged man, 
 on whose head the accumulating snows 
 of time recorded the lapse of nearly 
 threescore and ten years, should, in a 
 cause not his own, have performed a 
 journey, from which the person he had 
 toiled to serve, in all the vigour of youth, 
 had shrunk, on account of the distance, 
 was what he could scarcely credit, yet, 
 since it was asserted by Mr. Kendall, it 
 would have been ingratitude, as well as 
 folly, to doubt. 
 
 The good old man then proceeded to 
 account for his delay. This was in part
 
 CALTHORPE. 103 
 
 occasioned by the kind reception which 
 awaited him at Richmond. Before en- 
 tering on his journey, he had thought it 
 necessary to enquire after the poor fellow 
 saved from perishing in the morning ; 
 and, with great exultation, Mr. Kendall 
 now announced that he was likely to re- 
 cover. He then detailed with rational 
 gaiety, the little accidents he had met with 
 on the road, the opportunities which had 
 offered for bestowing a word of admoni- 
 tion on those who needed it, and the 
 thoughts inspired by the objects he had 
 seen. These, poured forth with an in. 
 teresting simplicity, breathed a calm 
 over the mind of his guest, to which 
 Henry had been long a stranger; and 
 the joy with which Kendall's return 
 was welcomed by his family, made the 
 whole scene to him equally novel and 
 delightful. Animated by generous joy, 
 the benevolent tradesman was insensible 
 to the fatigue inseparable from the exer- 
 tion he had made, which would have 
 F 4
 
 104 CALTHORPBr 
 
 exhausted many a younger man, ami 
 another hour passed in cheerful convers- 
 ation, when the parting prayer dismissed 
 all to repose. 
 
 
 ->H i&rfi '' 
 M \ 
 
 aw" terrusH 
 
 ' 309h r 
 
 - 
 
 . 
 
 lied agiiori 
 
 -3 
 
 /I | <3 - 
 
 I 
 
 /^gdfig gfililaiaiK 
 !
 
 CALTHORPE. 105 
 
 C~- 19^IK 
 
 ni bseae 3 -. 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 Turning quick, 
 
 His rising ire he seemed to check j 
 And his proud front, unused to blush, 
 Was tinged with momentary flush. 
 
 PHILIBERT. 
 
 *>.'. 
 
 THOUGH grieved that Henry was about 
 to leave England, Mrs. Burleigh and 
 Harriet were consoled to learn that a re- 
 fuge, even on such terms, could be found, 
 from insults like those which he had 
 experienced from Lord Burleigh and 
 Mr. Hanson. The injurious manner in 
 which the late proceedings at the Man- 
 sion-house had been stated, in some of 
 the newspapers, gave rise to a fear that 
 they might produce an unfavourable im- 
 pression, which Henry, from the difficulty 
 of furnishing satisfactory explanations in 
 a foreign country, might find it no easy 
 task to remove. It was, therefore, 
 F 5
 
 106 CALTHOSPE. 
 
 thought advisable that he should not let 
 it be known that his name was Burleigh, 
 (to which, for more reasons than one, he 
 was reluctant to draw attention,) and 
 that Henry should serve both for his 
 Christian and surname. Mr. Kendall 
 saw no objection to this, and it was 
 finally determined upon. 
 
 He was obliged, without delay, to 
 take leave of his mother and sister, and 
 proceed to Harwich ; whence he was to 
 embark for Heligoland. His passage 
 was paid for, and a small sum ad- 
 vanced to cover his other expenses, on 
 account of the concern in which he was 
 to be employed. This was sufficient to 
 meet his wishes, and he refused to re- 
 ceive a further supply, which the kind- 
 ness of Kendall earnestly pressed on him 
 at parting. 
 
 Arrived at Harwich, he passed on 
 board the vessel in which he was to sail, 
 and, after a brief delay, found himself 
 19
 
 CALTHORPE. 107 
 
 borne before a favouring breeze, from 
 the shores of England. 
 
 There were but few passengers on 
 board j most of them seemed acquainted 
 with each other, and were too much 
 occupied with conversation on their own 
 affairs, to make any call on the attention 
 of Henry 5 but one person seemed, like 
 himself, wholly unknown, and sat apart 
 in solemn silence. This man was of tall 
 stature, martial air, and noble deportment. 
 He was far advanced in years, but his 
 hair, though somewhat thinned by age, 
 had sustained little or no change in 
 colour, and its dark hue gave additional 
 expression to his bold and commanding 
 features. His half-closed eyes tranquilly 
 reposed beneath their prominent and 
 overshadowing arches ; but, the instant 
 his attention was attracted, their rays fell 
 on the object that interrupted his reverie, 
 with a penetrating, all-searching power, 
 that seemed to detect the most hidden 
 thoughts, and baffle all attempt at con- 
 v 6
 
 108 CALTHORPE. 
 
 cealment. At least, such was Henry's 
 feeling while the glance of the stranger 
 was directed for a moment to him j and, 
 he had no doubt, that the unknown, dis- 
 tinctly read the subject of his thoughts, 
 and read of himself. 
 
 They were seated on different sides of 
 the cabin, and immediately opposite to 
 each other, (a little apart from the knot 
 of friends who still continued their con- 
 versation,) and Henry felt no disposition 
 to interrupt that silence which his neigh- 
 bour had determined to maintain. 
 
 The stranger was an invalid. A large 
 bandage appeared on his right leg, and a 
 pair of new crutches, one of which was 
 bestowed by his side on the seat, whilst 
 the other occasionally sustained his head, 
 seemed, at once, to indicate that the 
 affliction under which he laboured, was 
 such as to make him a cripple j and, to 
 prove that whatever it might be, it was 
 of recent origin. 
 
 Silence was maintained on both sides*
 
 CALTHORPE. 10Q 
 
 for several hours. The stranger, for the 
 most part absorbed in melancholy mus- 
 ings, occasionally looked round, as if 
 anxious to enquire whether any peculi- 
 arity in his manner had attracted the 
 notice of his fellow-passengers. 
 
 He drew some small object from his 
 waistcoat, and gazed on it with an air of 
 bitter sorrow. A deep sigh burst in- 
 voluntarily from him. He started, ap- 
 parently much disconcerted by the acci- 
 dent ; and, as if he feared longer to 
 indulge in the mournful luxury, he en- 
 deavoured hastily to put away what had 
 thus affected him, when a sudden heave 
 of the ship caused his crutch to fall from 
 the seat, and starting to save it, the 
 object of his peculiar attention escaped 
 from his hand, and rolled on the cabin 
 floor. He attempted to spring after it, 
 but the pain which the unassisted effort 
 produced, obliged him to pause and 
 steady himself with the crutch which he 
 retained. Henry immediately picked up
 
 110 CALTHORPE. 
 
 the small case which had been dropped, 
 and what was his surprise, when look- 
 ing at it, as he held it open in his hand, 
 he recognised the portrait of his own 
 mother a portrait, which, in other 
 days, he had well known, and which had 
 been highly valued by his deceased 
 father. 
 
 In the surprise of the moment, Henry 
 gazed on the image, forgetful that the 
 stranger to whom it belonged, expected 
 him to return it, when the latter, in a 
 reproachful tone, for the first time broke 
 silence since their departure from Eng- 
 land, with this enquiry : 
 
 " Is it your intention to restore the 
 bauble to its owner, or do you propose 
 to keep it ?" 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Sir," said Henry, 
 handing it to him, "but there was some- 
 thing to me, so peculiarly interesting in 
 the features which it disclosed, that I 
 could not help trespassing on your pa- 
 tience for a few moments."
 
 CALTHORPE. Ill 
 
 No answer was returned, the portrait 
 was sullenly received, and, after bestowing 
 more than one inquisitive glance on 
 Henry, the unknown gave himself up to 
 his former abstraction. 
 
 At first it was to Henry an enigma 
 how the stranger could have become 
 possessed of this valued trifle. But the 
 solution was too easily supplied. It was 
 not difficult to conceive that it might 
 have been purchased at the sale of his 
 father's property ; and the extraordinary 
 attention which it claimed from his fel- 
 low passenger, alone remained inexpli- 
 cable. 
 
 After a voyage of two days, the light- 
 house and church of Heligoland were 
 seen, and in a few hours they approached 
 the island. The ship became entangled 
 among the rocks, and some boats put 
 off to their assistance. The men de- 
 manded a guinea from each passenger, 
 as the price of being put on shore. 
 
 " What !" said the invalid, who now
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 appeared with his crutches on the deck, 
 " do you think the Captain has brought 
 over a cargo of fools, that you demand 
 such an exorbitant price, for being rowed 
 so short a distance." 
 
 " Why, as to that, Mr. Brinkman," 
 replied one of the boatmen, who spoke 
 English, " a guinea is not so much, when 
 it may save your life. If the packet 
 stops where she is all night, and the wind 
 rises, she'll go to pieces before morning." 
 
 " Better be swallowed by the ocean, 
 than devoured by such sharks as you," re- 
 turned Brinkman ; and with these words, 
 he seated himself on the edge of a small 
 boat that lay on the deck near him, and 
 seemed to have no intention of renewing 
 the negociation. 
 
 The other passengers appealed to the 
 master of the vessel, if there existed the 
 danger which had been described, and 
 he having an understanding with the 
 boatmen, put on a very solemn face, and 
 said, if the wind were to rise, their situ- 
 '5
 
 CALTHORPE. 113 
 
 ation would be perilous in the extreme. 
 He, for his own part, was not apprehen- 
 sive of any immediate danger, but it 
 was all uncertain. The Leander had 
 been dashed to pieces, and every soul 
 on board perished. Then there was, 
 within his recollection, the Betsy, and 
 the Bellerophon, and the Charles, from 
 New York, who had all nearly met with 
 the same fate on that very spot." 
 
 " But all," said Brinkman, with a 
 sneer, " that you remember, very nar- 
 rowly escaped. There is then some ex- 
 cuse for believing, that we may do the 
 same, if we disappoint these plunderers. 
 In a few hours there will be plenty of 
 water, and I have no doubt of our being 
 able to get in, without their help ; so, 
 with your kind permission, I shall wait 
 for the return of the tide." 
 
 All present adopted the same resolu- 
 tion, to the no small disappointment of 
 the master, and his accomplices, in the 
 meditated robbery, who in vain enlarged
 
 114 CALTHORPE. 
 
 on the risk, and inconvenience, to which 
 the party would expose themselves by 
 obstinately adhering to the determination 
 which they had taken. 
 
 The master soon grew tired of the 
 company of his guests ; and anxious to 
 get rid of them at any rate, he with 
 great indignation condemned the rapacity 
 of the boatmen, in terms, which it is not 
 necessary minutely to describe, and gave 
 it as his opinion, that half what they had 
 asked, would be a sufficient remuneration. 
 
 This was pronounced to be a great deal 
 too much. The master at length passed 
 the signal to the fellows, who continued 
 to ply round the ship, and it was pro- 
 posed, after some time, the tide being 
 fast coming in, to take the whole of the 
 passengers ashore for one guinea. This 
 was closed with, and in a few minutes all 
 were safely landed on the beach. 
 
 The passengers made for the town with 
 the least possible delay. Henry followed 
 the example set by the majority of them,
 
 CALTHORPE. 115 
 
 and advanced with some rapidity, when, 
 happening to look back, he perceived 
 that Brinkman was far behind, and had 
 halted, apparently unable to proceed. 
 He immediately returned, and enquired 
 if he had met with any accident. The 
 answer was briefly, 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Are you in pain, Sir ?" 
 
 ' Yes j and I am weak enough to 
 writhe under it, though I know it is the 
 doom of man, and ought to be borne 
 with fortitude." 
 
 " Can I assist you, Sir ?" 
 
 " Why should you, more than the rest 
 of my late companions. Pursue your 
 course, and let me be left like a 
 stricken deer* to myself." 
 
 " But," said Henry, " it would afford 
 me pleasure to assist you. You are not 
 expert with your crutches. Lean on me 
 till you can reach a place where you may 
 find better accommodation." 
 
 " You are a foolish young man," 
 replied Brinkman, " to encumber your-
 
 CALTHORPfi. 
 
 self with the ills of others. Acting thus, 
 you sacrifice the little ease allotted to 
 you. When you are in my situation, 
 you will find no one to do the same by 
 you." 
 
 " Then it will afford me consolation to 
 know that I have not merited the neglect 
 which 1 may deplore, and to feel that the 
 desertion which afflicts me, is a mis- 
 fortune, but not a judgment." 
 
 Erinkman had begun to recline ,orf 
 Henry ; but, as the last word struck on 
 his ear, he rejected his proffered aid, 
 with an air of stern resolution, while he 
 exclaimed, 
 
 " Away* away ! such relief is not for 
 me. Away." 
 
 And Henry, repelled, even with some 
 degree of force, saw the invalid advance 
 alone, and resolutely persevere in labour- 
 ing his way up the beach, till he reached 
 the lower town. Thence, as if de- 
 termined to show himself no mercy, he 
 immediately began to ascend the broad
 
 CALTHORPE. 117 
 
 <wooden steps that lead to the upper town. 
 Henry at first waited for him ; but re- 
 ceiving no encouragement to continue to 
 do so, and discovering, as he thought, an 
 expression of chagrin in the countenance 
 of his late companion, at finding that he 
 jhad a spectator of his pain and weakness, 
 he ceased to look on Brinkman, and went 
 forward alone. He ascended but slowly, 
 that he might not get out of hearing, if, 
 on reflection, the invalid should think 
 proper to require his aid ; but leisurely as 
 he proceeded, when he gained the top, 
 he found that he had left his new ac- 
 quaintance far behind. 
 
 It was Sunday ; and Henry, impelled 
 by curiosity as well by a more exalted 
 motive, directed his steps towards the 
 church. When he reached the door, he 
 was met by the retiring congregation ; 
 which satisfied him that the service was 
 concluded. The females wore chaplets 
 of artificial flowers on their heads, and 
 hose who had been to receive the sacra-
 
 118 CALTHORPE. 
 
 ment, were attired in black. The fan- 
 tasticf gaiety of their appearance forcibly 
 arrested his attention j and he viewed 
 the whole scene with considerable interest. 
 When they had all passed, he perceived 
 the soldiers of the garrison pouring into 
 the edifice which he had intended to 
 visit, and had the satisfaction of hearing 
 that the church-service was about to be 
 performed in English. On receiving this 
 intelligence, he entered with them, and 
 remained there till this second congre- 
 gation was dismissed. 
 
 After taking some refreshment, he 
 began to enquire for the means of passing 
 to Cuxhaven. He was informed, that 
 for several days, the prevalence of south- 
 easterly winds had brought boats from 
 the Elbe to Heligoland ; but had pre- 
 cluded all return. A change had now 
 taken place, and a mail was to start that 
 afternoon, at three o'clock. Congratu- 
 lating himself on his good fortune, he 
 occupied the little time that remained to
 
 CALTHORPE. 119 
 
 him, in walking and examining those 
 objects which usually attract the notice 
 of the traveller. 
 
 Leaving the narrow alleys, which are 
 called streets, he passed to the southern 
 end of the island, admiring the romantic 
 beauties of the cliffs, and the grotesque 
 masses detached from them. These 
 present an irregular range of enor- 
 mous columns, which, at high- water, are 
 surrounded by the waves of the sea. 
 Pursuing his jplitary walk, he had ap- 
 proached the edge of the cliff, but was 
 still so distant from it, that he felt not 
 the slightest apprehension of danger, 
 when a voice called to him, in an au- 
 thoritative tone, 
 
 " Retire get further off." 
 
 He turned, and perceived Brinkman 
 near him ; who, finding that his words 
 were not attended to, now called out 
 with increasing energy. 
 
 " Withdraw come away stand 
 back, I say."
 
 120 CALTHORPE, 
 
 Henry obeyed the seemingly unneces- 
 sary mandate, and approachedthe speaker ; 
 and while he was doing so, the ground 
 gave way on which he had stood, and 
 assured him, that a very few moments' 
 delay would have precipitated him to the 
 beach. 
 
 " Inevitable death had been my lot, but 
 for your kind interference," said Henry, 
 advancing to the invalid, and thanking 
 him for his caution. 
 
 " I knew, " Brinkman replied, " that 
 you stood on shaken ground. The red 
 and blue argillaceous earths, which, mixed 
 with sand-stone strata, form these cliffs, 
 are rapidly melting. You cannot walk 
 round the island without being struck by 
 the rapidity with which the decomposi- 
 tion proceeds j nor can you pause for ten 
 minutes, without receiving some evidence, 
 that this island is crumbling away, and 
 likely, before many generations shall have 
 succeeded ours, to be known no more, 
 but as a sand-bank.
 
 CALTHORPE. 121 
 
 "Indeed!" 
 
 " 'Tis certain ! And why should it 
 not be so ? Why should the earth on 
 which man treads, and of which he is 
 compounded, be less frail than he ? Less 
 frail it undoubtedly is : but why should 
 he be surprised to find that it is not im- 
 perishable ? To us it matters but little. 
 The insect, that is born and dies of old 
 age in one day, ought not to disturb him- 
 self with speculations on the 'probable 
 shortness of the summer." 
 
 . 
 
 VOL. II.
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 * But wasting cares lay heavy on his mind : 
 In his black thoughts revenge and slaughter roll, 
 And scenes of blood rise dreadful in his soul. " 
 
 POPE. 
 
 BRINKMAN proposed to leave Heligo- 
 land by the same vessel in which Henry 
 \vas going, and it was nearly time to pro- 
 ceed to the boat. On the way, the fe- 
 males who had been to church in the 
 morning, some of whom had taken the 
 sacrament, were now seen crowned with 
 the same flowers which they had worn on 
 that occasion, preparing to dance in the 
 open air. 
 
 " What ! " said Henry, " can those who 
 made such a show of devotion a few 
 hours ago, fill up the latter part of their 
 Sabbath in this way.?" 
 
 The invalid replied,
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 " We ought not to expect consistency 
 in human beings. But, for my part, I see 
 nothing particularly wrong in all this. 
 Sulky gravity is not religion; and I do 
 not know that playful mirth ought to be 
 viewed as hostile to it. To us, from our 
 English habits, there appears something 
 at variance with decorum in what we 
 now observe ; but dances in the earlier 
 ages of the world were used as religious 
 exercises. It has been supposed by some 
 of the learned, that every psalm had once 
 a dance connected with it, which was 
 thought as essential as the voice of the 
 singer, to give proper effect to the devo- 
 tional exercises of which it formed a 
 part." 
 
 " But this consideration has, I fancy, 
 little connection with what we observe. 
 The flower-crowned ladies before us, 
 think of amusement more than religion." 
 
 " No doubt. Well, after all, I think 
 it preferable to some exercises, that have 
 gained those by whom they were prac- 
 G 2
 
 124' CALTHORPE. 
 
 tised, great fame for sanctity. St. Domi- 
 nic the Curassier used to flog himself, to 
 psalm-tunes all day. These girls will do 
 much better, to dance through the Psal- 
 ter. I think we may venture to con- 
 clude, that Heaven will behold, with as 
 much approving pleasure, the joyous 
 boundings of its creatures, as the pro- 
 tracted tortures so uselessly inflicted." 
 
 They had little time for further reflec- 
 tion. A boat was just putting off, and 
 in this they embarked for the Elbe. Both 
 wind and tide proved favourable, and at 
 about half past nine they found them- 
 selves in the harbour of Cuxhaven. 
 
 Since they left Heligoland, Brinkman 
 had hardly spoken once. He seemed 
 wholly absorbed in his own reflections, 
 and those were not of a very pleasing, 
 nature ; as the frequent but unconsciously 
 breathed sigh sufficiently attested. 
 
 When they landed, Henry again offered 
 his services, and they were no longer re- 
 fused. Brinkman enquired of his compa-
 
 CALTHORPE. 125 
 
 mon if he had ever been there before. 
 Of course he was answered in the ne- 
 gative. 
 
 " Then, if you can trust to me, you 
 had better allow me to be your guide. I 
 shall go to Ritzebuttel, a village but a 
 short distance from this spot, where I 
 know I shall find a quiet house." 
 
 Henry gladly availed himself of this 
 offer, and accompanied Brinkman through 
 a long narrow causeway, at the end of 
 which was the village he had mentioned. 
 The night was dark, and the path so rug- 
 ged as to put the invalid to some incon- 
 veneince ; but he resolutely advanced and 
 exulted not a little when arrived at 
 Ritzebuttel, in the prospect of enjoying 
 rest. 
 
 But the inn to which he directed his 
 steps was not so quiet as he expected it 
 would prove. Some reverses reported to 
 have been experienced by the French 
 about that period, had filled all hearts 
 with joy, and a fidler and a harper were 
 G 3
 
 126 CALTHORPE. 
 
 assisting some of' the inhabitants to ex- 
 press their happiness on the occasion ; and 
 the intervals during which the perform- 
 ances of the musicians were suspended, 
 a ragged fellow took upon himself to fill 
 up with a recitation, or chaunt, on the 
 subject of the disasters which had befallen 
 the armies of Bonaparte. 
 
 Fiddling, smoking, drinking, and sing- 
 ing, occupied the party till midnight. It 
 was not till after it had broken up, that 
 Henry and his companion could be ac- 
 commodated with beds. The room was 
 at length cleared, and two small bedsteads 
 concealed at one end of it, were let down 
 for the new-comers, and both prepared 
 for rest. 
 
 The apartment was much heated by 
 the company and the lights which it had 
 contained. The fumes of tobacco still filled 
 it, and these, added to his being unaccus- 
 tomed to the German fashion of lying on 
 one bed, and using another in lieu of bed- 
 clothes, made it impossible for Henry at
 
 CALTHORPE. 127 
 
 once to compose himself to sleep. The 
 invalid, to whom such inconveniences 
 were familiar, and who seemed much ex- 
 hausted by pain and by fatigue, was more 
 fortunate, and soon found the repose he 
 sought. 
 
 Henry had continued awake for more 
 than an hour, and sleep which had at first 
 iled from his pillow, was just about to 
 close his eyes, when a deep groan from 
 his companion dispelled in a moment the 
 drowsiness which had fallen on him. 
 
 " Are you not well, Sir ?" he enquired, 
 addressing Brinkman. 
 
 No answer was returned ; and he was 
 satisfied that his companion slept. The 
 sound which he had heard was most like- 
 ly the offspring of a troublesome dream, 
 and he therefore considered it unworthy 
 of further thought. 
 
 Again he was about to sleep, when the 
 
 sound was repeated. It disturbed him, 
 
 but he continued silent. He perceived 
 
 the invalid moving in his bed, which was 
 
 G 4
 
 128 CALTHORPE. 
 
 close by the side of that on which he was 
 lying. Henry accosted him as he had. 
 done before. Brinkman made no reply : 
 but turning suddenly on his companion, 
 seized him violently by the shoulder, with 
 one hand, while raising the other, he ex- 
 claimed, 
 
 " Now, villain, there is no escape : 
 die!" 
 
 Henry started ; but could not for a mo- 
 ment break from the giant grasp of 
 Brinkman. He exerted himself with the 
 energy of desperation and succeeded. 
 
 " What what is the matter ?" en- 
 quired, Brinkman in great agitation. 
 
 " That I should rather demand of you," 
 returned Henry ; " since you seized me 
 with violence but a moment ago, and 
 menaced me with death." 
 
 " Is it possible?" He then asked, in a 
 tone that indicated extreme anxiety and 
 surprise, " What did I say ? Did I say 
 any thing about" I mean did I mention 
 the name of Psha ! I am yet but half 
 awake : I mean to say, I was dreaming
 
 CALTHORPE. 129 
 
 that 1 had been robbed, and almost 
 murdered, and that I had just overtaken 
 the wretch who had first despoiled, and 
 then attempted to destroy me." 
 
 " It was a fearful dream." 
 
 " Dreadful, but what did I say? Did 
 I say any thing that seemed strange ?" 
 
 " Nothing but what might be expected, 
 under the impression which you have 
 described." 
 
 " I merely asked the question," said 
 Brinkman " because because (here 
 he seemed to labour under some embar- 
 rassment), " I have sometimes talked in 
 my sleep the most amusing nonsense, and 
 uttered things that have created no small 
 surprise in those who heard them. I 
 am sorry that my somnambulism has dis- 
 turbed you; but think I can promise that 
 your rest shall not be thus interrupted 
 <igain." 
 
 Henry had no doubt that Brinkman 
 had truly explained the cause of that, 
 which had broken in upon his repose ; and 
 G 5
 
 ISO CALTHORPE. 
 
 calmly laid his head down once more. 
 He soon fell into a refreshing sleep, from 
 which he did not awake till it was time 
 to rise. He perceived that the ad- 
 joining bed was empty, and he saw Brink- 
 man sitting in a chair, his arms folded, 
 and his whole appearance such as when 
 he had first seen him. When Henry 
 moved, his new friend started from the 
 reverie in which he had indulged, again 
 expressed regret for the involuntary sin, 
 which he had committed against the re- 
 pose of his companion, and added, that, 
 to guard more effectually against a repe- 
 tition of it, he had risen as soon as he 
 perceived that Henry slept, and occupied 
 himself, so as to keep awake till that mo- 
 ment. Burleigh was really sorry that 
 anxiety on his account, should have in- 
 duced the invalid to subject himself to 
 such an inconvenience; but the latter af- 
 fected to make very light of the matter, 
 and hastened to change the subject of 
 conversation.
 
 CALTHORPE. 131 
 
 For twenty-five marks, the master of 
 a boat going to Hamburg, agreed to take 
 Brinkman and Henry to that city. Be* 
 calmed on the passage, and exposed to 
 other delays, then, necessarily attendant 
 on a voyage up the Elbe, it was not till 
 the morning of the second day after their 
 departure from Ritzenbuttel, that they 
 gained the place of their destination. 
 During the voyage, Brinkman, exhausted 
 by the fatigue which he had sustained, 
 sunk into a profound slumber, which 
 lasted many hours. On awaking, he 
 asked with great anxiety if he had again 
 talked in his sleep, and when answered 
 in the negative, he said he was induced to 
 make the enquiry, as he had been tor- 
 mented with a recurrence of the dream, 
 by which he had been so unusually agi- 
 tated, at the village where he last sought 
 repose. 
 
 Henry accompanied him to an hotel in 
 Hamburg j and here Brinkman found his 
 daughter and her governess whom he had 
 G 6
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 directed to join him at that place. They 
 all breakfasted together. The daughter 
 was delighted to see her father again, 
 after an absence of many months, and 
 Brinkman, in the joy of regaining his 
 child, forgot, for a time, the solemn auste- 
 rity of manner by which he had been 
 previously distinguished. 
 
 To Burleigh the re-union was highly 
 interesting ; tears filled his eyes, while 
 he gazed on the blissful scene. He 
 remembered how he had looked for- 
 ward, to act a part in one of a similar cha- 
 racter, gaily anticipating the benign smile 
 of a father, from whom he had been se- 
 parated, for what he considered a long 
 period, and all the recollected agonies 
 which followed, pressed heavy on his 
 mind. 
 
 " Well, my dear father," said the 
 young lady, " I ought to be very sorry 
 for your misfortunes, and very much 
 grieved to see you return on crutches ; 
 but, I am so happy to behold you, on
 
 CALTHORPE. ' 133 
 
 any terms, that I cannot make a display 
 of sensibility, and I am almost tempted 
 to exult in your lameness, because it will 
 throw an impediment in the way of your 
 wanderings for some time to come, and 
 compel you to remain with me." 
 
 " O ! Louisa, yours is the happy age. 
 You can view every thing with the eye 
 of hope, and, like the bee that gains 
 honey from the most worthless plants, 
 yours is the privilege to extract felicity 
 from the very woes of life. But alas !" 
 
 " Stop, stop, Sir, * But alas !* is a 
 bad beginning of a new sentence. I 
 must be so undutiful as to rebel against 
 my father, when 1 see him about to mar 
 present joy, by anticipations of future 
 sorrow." 
 
 A charming sprightliness illumined a 
 beautiful countenance, on which the 
 tear of filial rapture Ibeamed with un- 
 clouded splendour j and Henry, while he 
 gazed on her flowing ringlets, and sylph- 
 like form, thought he saw united all
 
 134 CALTHORPE. 
 
 the charms, and graces, with which 
 painters have delighted to invest celestial 
 beings. From her, his eyes wandered 
 to Brinkman, and remarked with surprise 
 the solemn gloom, which had clouded 
 his brow at the time of their leaving 
 England. He yielded to the instances 
 of his daughter, and abstained from 
 uttering what he had been about to say ; 
 but the mirth which she sought to in- 
 spire, his breast was not prepared to en- 
 tertain. 
 
 To look on the fair Louisa, and to 
 listen to her voice, was that which Henry 
 could have done with delight through 
 the day j but it soon occurred to him, 
 that other matters demanded his care. 
 Brinkman had been previously informed, 
 that his companion came to take a situ- 
 ation in Hamburg, and with mutual 
 acknowledgments of kindness and satis- 
 faction they parted. 
 
 It demanded an effort of resolution, to 
 which Henry was hardly equal, without 
 18
 
 CALTHORPE. 1S5 
 
 emotion, to see Brinkman depart, and 
 to snatch a last look at the aerial figure of 
 his lovely daughter. They had invited 
 him to Leipzig, where they proposed to 
 reside j but, fixed by his duty, in the city 
 where he then found himself, for some 
 years, as he supposed, he could not but 
 believe that they would meet no more. 
 The manner in which Brinkman had 
 sighed over the picture, which Henry had 
 recognised, was still fresh in his recollec- 
 tion. To this subject he had endeavoured 
 to lead the invalid, but in vain. The 
 slightest approach to an expression of 
 curiosity on that point, had invariably 
 produced some abrupt reply, immediately 
 followed by sad and silent abstraction. 
 Now that he was about to vanish for 
 ever, fain would Henry have solicited 
 an explanation, of this, to him, most in- 
 teresting riddle, but the repulses which 
 he had previously sustained, made him 
 unequal to^the enquiry. 
 
 When they had retired, Henry having
 
 156 CALTHORPE. 
 
 made some change in his dress, enquired 
 of the master of the house, if he could 
 direct him to Richenbach's banking- 
 house. 
 
 " I can direct you to where it was." 
 
 " To where it was ?" 
 
 " Yes, Sir, to Richenbach's late bank- 
 ing-house." 
 
 " That, I have no wish to see. It is 
 his present house that I want." 
 
 " He has none," replied the man. 
 " His old, and long-established house 
 was burnt down to the ground, on the 
 day before yesterday. The fire is yet 
 but imperfectly extinguished, while he, 
 poor man, . ruined, or nearly so, by this 
 terrible calamity, is at present insane, 
 and under confinement, and the business 
 of the firm is completely at a stand." 
 
 " Is it possible ?" 
 
 " You will find that it is too true. 
 As you pass down the street, you will 
 see the smoking ruins. No guide is ne-
 
 CALTHORPE. 137 
 
 cessary to conduct you to the spot. A 
 crowd is still assembled before it." 
 
 With these words the man left the 
 room, and Henry, with feelings of amaze- 
 ment and distress not to be described, 
 saw his prospect of comfort annihi- 
 lated in a moment, and found himself 
 alone, in a foreign country, without the 
 means of subsisting there, of going for- 
 ward to other parts, or of returning to 
 England.
 
 138 CALTHORFE, 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 " What do I seek, alas ! or why do I 
 Attempt in vain from thee to fly ? 
 For making thee my Deity 
 I gave thee then Ubiquity." 
 
 COWLEY. 
 
 BUT few weeks had passed since the de- 
 parture of Henry, when Pierrepoint re- 
 turned to England. The three eyes of 
 the two Hansons, had not yet ceased to 
 flow over the disgrace which had fallen 
 on their family ; and the Deputy con- 
 tinued to entertain his friends with ora- 
 torical flourishes about the anguish of an 
 injured father, who saw his every hope of 
 happiness immolated by the undutiful con- 
 duct of an only daughter, and the base 
 aspirings of an unworthy menial, who had 
 been fed for years by his indulgent 
 hand.
 
 CALTHORPE. 139 
 
 He was rehearsing a string of elegant 
 sentences of this description one morning, 
 that they might be ready for the first 
 comer, when he was interrupted by the 
 entrance of Pierrepoint. With brief pre- 
 face lie tendered his accounts to the De- 
 puty, and directed his attention to a va- 
 riety of papers which he produced, and 
 having waited in silence till Mr. Hanson 
 had perused them, he sternly demanded 
 to know if all were right. He was an- 
 swered in the affirmative. 
 
 " Ah ! Mr. Pierrepoint," said the lady, 
 "we have had sad doings since you left 
 us last." 
 
 " So I have heard." 
 
 " Sad doings, indeed!" the Deputy 
 chymed in ; and he would have pro- 
 ceeded further, had not Pierrepoint 
 abruptly replied, 
 
 " And shameful as sad; since I under- 
 stand that you have treated the upright 
 and generous young Burleigh like a com- 
 mon thief."
 
 140 CALTHORPE. 
 
 " Circumstances certainly made it ap- 
 pear for a time, that he had robbed me." 
 
 " A something in your own heart (I 
 will not give it a name), disqualified you 
 from judging of the nobleness of his ; and 
 in consequence your suspicions rested 
 first on him, who was the last that you 
 ought to have suspected." 
 
 " You ought to remember the agita- 
 tion of mind, produced by the sudden 
 discovery that my only child had been 
 carried off by by " 
 
 " As you supposed, by one, to the ho- 
 nour of whose alliance you once aspired." 
 
 " You make no allowances," Mr. Han- 
 son replied, " for the anguish of a father, 
 on learning the degradation of his child." 
 
 " Well, Alexandrina has not degraded 
 herself by going off with young Burleigh. 
 Your heart is relieved by being unde- 
 ceived on that point. And who has she 
 married after all ?" 
 
 The Deputy was silent. 
 
 " What ! are you ashamed to name
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 your son-in-law ? In this, as in all the 
 rest, you are wrong. You ought not to 
 blush to own him. 'Tis true that he is 
 a low clownish sot ; a being not fit to 
 breathe in the same hemisphere with 
 young Burleigh; but he is not greatly 
 your inferior, after all." 
 
 (l Do you mean to insult me ?" 
 " I mean to speak the plain truth j call 
 it insolence, or what you will.*' 
 
 " If you had the feelings of a man," 
 said Mrs. Hanson, " you would have 
 more respect for the sorrows of parents, 
 deploring, like us, the loss of an only 
 child." 
 
 " And real distress would meet with 
 
 my warmest sympathy " 
 
 And is it not real distress," the De- 
 puty fiercely enquired, " to have a daugh- 
 ter married to such a man as you describe? 
 Would not this entitle me to the com- 
 miseration of every man of humanity ?" 
 
 " To as much commiseration as you 
 felt for the injured Burleigh. If Alex-
 
 142 CALTHORPE. 
 
 andrina has married a poor man, you can 
 save her from want." 
 
 " But his family." 
 
 " His family!" retorted Pierrepoint, 
 with a smile of ineffable contempt j " on 
 that subject at least, you ought to be 
 silent. It is not for me, who am nobody, 
 and who come from nobody, to condemn 
 family-pride on the part of those who 
 have had illustrious ancestors ; but 
 it is too much for patience, when per- 
 sons of mean origin can so far forget 
 their own history, as to despise their 
 fellow-creatures for being like them- 
 selves." 
 
 " This, let me tell you, Sir, is not to 
 be borne." 
 
 " It shall not be long. If the Bur- 
 leigh family had suffered the humiliation 
 of being connected with yours, their grief 
 had been respectable, because it would 
 have been natural. But when you, find- 
 ing your daughter married to an equal, 
 would attempt to pass off your mortifica-
 
 tions for a calamity, I cannot but laugh, 
 and regard what has happened as a just 
 judgment on insolent pride." 
 
 " Very well, Sir, very well ; and now 
 Sir, comes my turn," cried Mr. Hanson, 
 foaming with rage. " From this hour I 
 have done with you quite done with 
 you." 
 
 " And I, for the present, have done 
 with you. It was because I had resolved 
 on this, that I made you look over my 
 accounts, before I held up the mirror to 
 your folly. I now leave you, recom- 
 mending you to atone, as far as may be, 
 for the past, by seeking an immediate 
 reconciliation with your daughter, and 
 taking your worthy son-in-law by the 
 hand." 
 
 With these words he retired, leaving 
 the Deputy and his lady glowing with 
 resentment for the lesson which they 
 had received. 
 
 Pierrepoint proceeded to Richmond, 
 with a view of making some enquiries
 
 144 CALTttORPE. 
 
 about Henry. This, he persuaded him- 
 self, was his only motive ; but, perhaps, 
 the expectation of seeing Harriet had 
 some influence on him ; and on his 
 arrival at the cottage, though embarrassed, 
 he was not very sorry at learning from 
 the servant, that Miss Burleigh was alone. 
 
 He found Harriet uneasy, on account 
 of the intelligence received of the con- 
 flagration at Hamburg, which had so 
 materially interfered with the hopes of 
 Henry. From him, they had received 
 no news. She then informed him, that 
 her mother and herself were about to 
 accept of a particular and pressing in- 
 vitation which they had received from 
 one of her father's oldest friends ; and 
 they intended spending a month or two 
 in Leicestershire. 
 
 Pierrepoint requested, that she would 
 avail herself of any opportunity that 
 offered for giving him intelligence of his 
 friend, and for enabling him to write to 
 Henry.
 
 CALTHORPE. 145 
 
 These matters disposed of, he prepared 
 to take his leave. 
 
 He had nothing more to say that he 
 could recollect, yet he lingered, and 
 hesitated to pronounce the parting word. 
 For several minutes, he seemed labouring 
 to recal something that he had forgotten. 
 He at length broke silence. 
 
 " It may be long, Miss Burleigh, ere 
 I have the happiness of beholding you 
 again." 
 
 An exclamation of surprise burst from 
 Harriet ; and he briefly explained the cir- 
 cumstances under which he had Kll the 
 persecutors of his mend. He then pro- 
 ceeded, 
 
 " Should it be long before we meet 
 again, may I hope, that in those moments 
 of happiness, which I trust are in store 
 for you, that so humble a friend as Pierre- 
 point, will sometimes be remembered." 
 
 There was a melancholy in his man- 
 ner, that touched Harriet, and she 
 unhesitatingly replied ; 
 
 VOL. II. H
 
 146 CALTHORPE. 
 
 " Not to remember you with esteem 
 and admiration, would be ingratitude. 
 In distress, no name will be more fondly 
 recalled; in prosperity, no friend more 
 truly welcome." 
 
 " From my heart, I thank you. My 
 ambition aspires to no higher title, than 
 that which your condescension has 
 pleased to bestow." 
 
 " Your language, Mr. Pierrepoint, be- 
 comes too courtly. There can be no 
 condescension in acknowledging an im- 
 portant service, by considering him a 
 f rieiit* *vhc rendered it." 
 
 " I am tempted to controvert your 
 words ; but, feeling that I ought no longer 
 to intrude, I now withdraw. Before I 
 go, I would solicit one favour. I know 
 not how to name it ; for, to mention the 
 wish I would cherish of being able to 
 serve you, I must suppose you to be 
 exposed to new sorrows, to which, I pray 
 that you may ever remain a stranger. 
 What I would ask, is this, that during 
 the time your brother continues in a
 
 CALTHORPE. 147 
 
 foreign country, in the absence of any 
 male relation, who might afford you 
 protection or counsel, you will look on 
 me, if settled in England, as the repre- 
 sentative of my friend. Should any cir- 
 cumstances arise, in which you could 
 desire the presence of a brother, think of 
 me ; and, as a brother, it will be my 
 happiness, while life remains, to assist, 
 vindicate, (forgive the supposition im- 
 plied,) or defend, Miss Burleigh." 
 
 " Nay, it would be too much to ac- 
 knowledge past generosity, by calling for 
 new sacrifices." 
 
 " Do not refuse my first, my only 
 request. Far be it from me, to wish that 
 you should submit to the humiliation of 
 soliciting my aid. Deign but to write. 
 Your beloved name even the initial 
 of it, will suffice ; and I shall require no 
 further hint, to induce me to hasten to 
 you, wherever you may be. The letter 
 H alone, shall indicate that I may 
 have the happiness of serving you, and 
 H 2
 
 148 CALTHORPE. 
 
 from yourself I will seek to know the 
 rest." 
 
 " There is something singular in the 
 request," Harriet replied, with a smile ; 
 " but, I hope, when you receive a com- 
 munication from me, it will contain more 
 than the initial of my name. I promise 
 myself the pleasure of sending agree- 
 able tidings of my brother." 
 " But still you do not promise." 
 '.* Nor do I refuse." 
 " Nay, but promise." 
 Well, I do." 
 
 " Believe me grateful, Miss Burleigh," 
 said Pierrepoint; "and now now I have 
 but to say farewell." 
 
 As he pronounced the last word, his 
 hand caught hers ; and its eager grasp 
 was replied to by a gentle pressure. A 
 sudden throb advanced the hand of 
 Miss Burleigh towards his lips, but he 
 repressed the warm emotion which had 
 caused this movement, relinquished his 
 hold, and quitted the cottage, without
 
 CALTHORPE. 149 
 
 daring again to lift his eyes to that coun- 
 tenance which he wished not to love, but 
 which almost commanded his adoration. 
 Returning to town, he retired to an 
 apartment which he had rented in the 
 neighbourhood of his late employer. On 
 the following morning he called on seve- 
 ral mercantile men, whom he had known 
 for a considerable period, and who had, 
 on more than one occasion, made over- 
 tures to him, the object of which was 
 to detach him from the interest of the 
 Deputy, that he might connect himself 
 with them. He was surprised at the 
 cold welcome that he met with from 
 those he first visited, and the civil but 
 peremptory negatives that he received 
 from each. At length one person threw 
 out a hint about the awkwardness of his 
 situation, and expressed commiseration 
 for the distress to which he was likely 
 to be exposed, in consequence of the 
 fatal imprudence into which he had been 
 betrayed, and which had terminated in 
 ii 3
 
 150 CALTHORPE. 
 
 the loss of Mr. Hanson's confidence. 
 The cautious manner in which he was 
 addressed, and the circumlocution which 
 the speaker seemed to consider necessary, 
 induced Pierrepoint to demand further 
 explanation, and after some hesitation 
 this was accorded by the production of a 
 circular letter, which ran as follows : 
 " Mr. Hanson presents his compliments 
 
 to Mr. and begs that he will not pay 
 
 any sum, or sums of money, to George 
 Pierrepoint, his late clerk, as the said 
 George Pierrepoint is no longer in the 
 confidence of Mr. Hanson, and has ab- 
 sconded from his service." 
 
 The shyness he had remarked was 
 now sufficiently accounted for, and 
 Pierrepoint was relieved in a moment 
 from all perplexity. But doubt was suc- 
 ceeded by that which is hardly less hos- 
 tile to the peace of the party entertain- 
 ing it; namely rage. His first re- 
 solve was to wait upon " the worthy 
 Deputy," with a horsewhip j but OP
 
 CALTHORPE. 151 
 
 reflection, a more effectual way of pu- 
 nishing him suggested itself. To seek 
 the person who had placed him under 
 Mr. Hanson, and to obtain from him the 
 means of compelling the Common-coun- 
 cilman to execute the agreement which 
 he had signed, and then to prosecute him 
 for the calumny which he had sent 
 abroad, seemed to promise more substan- 
 tial vengeance. 
 
 H
 
 CALTHORPE, 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 " Roderigo. ; There have I put on 
 
 Sometimes the shape c :' a comedian, 
 And now and then sor ie other. 
 
 Sancho. A player ! OL brother of the tiring house ! 
 
 Soto. A bird of th^eame feather ! 
 
 Sancho. Welcome." 
 
 MIDDLE-TON and ROWLEY. 
 
 BUT a few days before, Pierrepoint had 
 heard that which led him to suppose that 
 his father was at Manchester, and thither 
 he now shaped his course. He found 
 that the person he sought had lived 
 there, but all his enquiries failed to dis- 
 cover his present abode ; and, after re- 
 peated disappointments, he abandoned 
 the pursuit in despair. 
 
 The expence attendant on the journey, 
 and on the efforts which he had made to 
 discover the person he sought, had consi- 
 derably reduced his stock of cash. He
 
 CAL THORPE. 153 
 
 found it necessary to economise, and he 
 now took an outside place to London on 
 one of the stages. Finding himself 
 rather unwell, he was fearful, that to per- 
 form the whole journey, without resting, 
 would endanger his health. From Man- 
 chester the outside fare was a guinea ; 
 and he knew that from Derby, which was 
 fifty-seven miles nearer to London, twen- 
 ty-six shillings would be demanded by 
 the same coach. This anomaly, growing 
 out of the great opposition at one place, 
 and out of the absence of opposition at 
 the other, he prudently sought to avail 
 himself of, by taking a place for London. 
 It was however agreed, that if he chose 
 to stop at Derby he might do so, paying 
 fourteen shillings for his conveyance, 
 which sum was demanded in advance. 
 
 He found himself so much better on 
 the road, that he determined to go for- 
 ward to London. It was eleven at night 
 when the coach reached Derby. There 
 he was directed to go into the coach- 
 H 5
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 office, and pay the remainder of his fare. 
 On offering to do this, a fat vulgar-look- 
 ing ruffian demanded the Derby fare of 
 twenty-six shillings. 
 
 Pierrepoint reminded him, that he, like 
 the other passengers, had taken his place 
 for London, and had but an additional 
 seven shillings to pay. 
 
 " Stuff!" cried the ruffian, with a lordly 
 air of contempt for the supposed effort 
 at imposition, "you're not going to 
 tell me that. What ! let you go to town 
 for seven-shillings, when here are people 
 willing to pay twenty-six. It won't do." 
 
 " I do not desire you to take my word, 
 but I expect you to believe your own 
 guard, and your own-way bill, and insist 
 on your fulfilling your engagement. 
 
 ' I don't care for the guard," replied 
 Mr. Barabbas Blubberlip, " I don't care 
 for the way-bill you wont go for seven, 
 when others will pay twenty-six. I I 
 don't care for what you say, a pretty thing
 
 CALTHORPE.' 155 
 
 to take you for seven, when others pay 
 twenty-six. 
 
 The guard, who had promised to see 
 every thing settled in a proper manner, 
 now interfered, but only to meet with 
 outrageous abuse, for daring to speak 
 the truth, in opposition to the dishonour- 
 able conduct of his master, or superior 
 fellow-servant ; and Pierrepoint was ad- 
 monished to pay the one pound six, like , 
 a man, if he wished to go forward. Be- 
 fore he could reply, the way-bill was filled 
 up, and the " human hog," who was 
 styled the coach-master, had ordered the 
 vehicle to proceed, and commenced a 
 precipitate retreat j which measure was 
 not unwisely determined upon, if he had 
 any regard for his nose. 
 
 The night was pitchy dark, and Pierre- 
 point now found himself near the mar- 
 ket place in Derby, encumbered with a 
 portmanteau, and wholly a stranger to 
 the town. The shops were all closed, 
 and he had advanced some fifty yards 
 H 6
 
 156 CALTHORPE. 
 
 towards the Chatworth road before he 
 perceived this, and before he had time 
 to suspect, that in a place so populous, 
 he could experience any difficulty in 
 finding a lodging. But now with some 
 uneasiness remarking, that all the inns 
 and public houses, were shut up, he 
 began, as he approached the end, or what 
 a Londoner would call the beginning of 
 the town, to prepare himself for the lux- 
 ury of wandering all night in the open 
 air. While meditating on the dreary 
 prospect before him, he approached the 
 spot where the London and Chatworth 
 roads form an acute angle, when a door 
 opened and the reflection of a cheerful 
 blaze caught his eye. It was a small inn, 
 and he entered, though some opposition 
 was attempted on account of the lateness 
 of the hour. A high wooden screen, with 
 an opening in the middle instead of a 
 door, enclosed the greater part of that 
 apartment, in which the lower class of 
 customers take their refreshment, and 
 18
 
 CALTHORPE. 157 
 
 which, in the Midland counties, is called 
 the kitchen. Here five or six persons 
 were seated, basking before an enormous 
 coal fire, drinking ale, talking politics, 
 and enjoying the solace of a pipe. 
 
 Pierrepoint enquired for the parlour, 
 and was conducted into a small apart- 
 ment at the back of the house, paved 
 with a composition, which in that part of 
 the country is commonly used instead of 
 boards, to form the floor. Here, on en- 
 quiring if he could have a bed, he was 
 met with a flat negative. He thought of 
 applying for permission to sit up by the 
 kitchen fire, when the landlady, who had 
 the appearance of having passed her 
 whole life in the country, having treated 
 herself with a stare at his face, began to- 
 catechise him in the following manner : 
 
 " Pray where do you coom from ?" 
 
 " From Manchester." 
 
 " O ! I were never thear. You did 
 no' alway live thear, did you." 
 
 " No."
 
 158 CALTHORPE. 
 
 " I'm sure I know your feace soom- 
 where. In Loonon I think I've seen 
 you, or thearabouts-" 
 
 " Very likely ; but I have no recollec- 
 tion of you." 
 
 " Did ever live at Stepney, or thear- 
 away." 
 
 " Never; but when I was a school boy, 
 and then but for a year or two." 
 
 " Ha, ha, I recollect. Is your name 
 George Pierrepoint?" 
 
 " It is." 
 
 While giving this reply, he returned 
 the landlady's stare, as much astonished 
 at the altered manner of Mrs. Homely, 
 as at finding himself recognised, where 
 he had had so little prospect of meeting 
 with any one that he had ever known. 
 
 Few words explained the riddle. Mrs. 
 Homely, in her younger days, had kept 
 a preparatory school, to which Pierre- 
 point was sent when a child. Married 
 to the landlord of an Inn, she had, from 
 motives of policy, acquired the dialect
 
 CALTHORPE. 1,59 
 
 and manners of those among whom her 
 lot was cast ; and her study had been so 
 successful, that, externally, no trace of the 
 school mistress remained. 
 
 It was fortunate for Pierrepoint, thus 
 to meet with an old acquaintance, for all 
 difficulties in the way of his finding a 
 lodging vanished in a moment. 
 
 " Why, it was but other day," said Mrs. 
 Homely, unconsciously relapsing into the 
 Derby dialect " that amon coom here that 
 l^nows you very well, and who has been 
 acting with you, since you grew up to be 
 a mon, at the private play, he says." 
 
 " Indeed ! Has the fame of my folly 
 travelled so far ?" 
 
 " Yes, I believe he's now in kitchen. 
 Jack Practical ! Jack Practical !" cried , 
 the landlady, raising her voice loud 
 enough to be heard in the outer apart- 
 ment. It was promptly replied to. 
 
 " * What noise is this ? Give me my 
 long sword, ho !' " and with these words,
 
 160 CALTHORPE. 
 
 a person shabbily attired, entered the 
 little parlour. 
 
 " Here's a gentleman knows you," 
 said Mrs. Homely. 
 
 " The devil there is. Then I wish 
 him joy of his acquaintance, whoever 
 he may be. 
 
 " How do you do, Mr. Practical ?" 
 
 " Ah ! What is it you, Mr. Pierre- 
 point! I am very glad to see you. I, 
 and mine hostess here, have had several 
 conversations about you. I've often 
 thought of our enactings at Berwick and 
 Gloucester Streets^ - We had there some 
 rare fun. Famously well you used to 
 play Rotta. By the bye, how 's the 
 fine little boy, that you had by Miss 
 Polly Polly what was her name 
 one of the Virgins of the Sun ?" 
 
 " As I have not the pleasure of recol- 
 lecting either the boy or his mother, I am 
 not able to give you an answer." 
 
 " I made a mistake, it was Jack 
 Williams. He, I am told "
 
 CAL THORPE. 161 
 
 Here Mr. Practical was interrupted 
 by a female, who announced her ap- 
 proach by a threat that she would tear 
 out his eyes. From attempting to carry 
 this resolution into effect, she was only 
 deterred by the unexpected presence of 
 Pierrepoint. 
 
 " Angels and ministers of grace de- 
 fend us !" cried Practical. " What's the 
 matter, Mrs. Tearsheet. Whose mare's 
 dead now ?' " 
 
 " None of your nonsense j " 
 
 " ' Bring with thee airs from heaven, or blasts from hell ? 
 Be thy intents wicked or charitable ?' " 
 
 " Don't blast me.-/ You ought to be 
 ashamed of yourself. Here, you've been 
 setting my husband to fight again, and 
 got the life beat out of him, you know 
 you have." 
 
 " Let me beg of you not to put your- 
 self in a passion. If your husband 
 should die " 
 
 " You will have murdered him, and I 
 shall always say that you did it,"
 
 162 CALTHORPE. 
 
 " Did it to help thee to * better,' 
 Mrs. Snivelgate ; so make yourself easy. 
 Your husband, Mrs. Yelpabout, insulted 
 a gentleman. He told Mr/Crosslegs, 
 the tailor, that he was only the ninth 
 part of a man. He could not bear that, 
 you know." 
 
 " Yes, and Mr. Crosslegs (set on by 
 you), has given my husband such a 
 beating, as he can't, bear." 
 
 " That's ' Measure for Measure.' " 
 
 " And I dare say, he'll not be able 
 to stand for a week." 
 
 " Then there'll be the Devil to pay.' 
 But ' to fall somewhat into a slower 
 method,' Mrs. Talk-me-blind, if you 
 don't treat me with more respect, I shall 
 be under the painful necessity of leaving 
 your lodgings." 
 
 " I wish you would, to-morrow." 
 
 " Very well ! But you know I must 
 give a reference to you, and can't stir 
 unless you give me a good character." 
 
 " And what character can I give y on
 
 1 
 
 CALTHORPE. 163 
 
 when you know, that you have never paid 
 me a farthing, since there you have been?" 
 
 " Why; at least, you can say, as I 
 never paid you, that you had no trouble, 
 in getting your money, Mrs. Mag-at-all, 
 and that will obtain me a lodging any 
 where." 
 
 Every word that fell from Practical 
 was the signal for a laugh from the kit- 
 chen company, who had repaired to the 
 parlour-door, to enjoy the impudent 
 raillery of the player, (for such was his 
 quality ;) and the wife of the beaten man 
 was fain to retire, from the ridicule, of 
 which she found herself the object, 
 threatening to bar the door against Prac- 
 tical that night, to whiclV he replied, by 
 the double menace, that if she did so, 
 he would break in at the window ; and 
 yet more, meeting with so ungrateful a 
 return for his kindness, he would never 
 get her husband threshed again. 
 
 It appeared that Practical when about 
 to sit down to supper, fearing the party
 
 164 CALTHORPE. 
 
 would be rather too numerous for the 
 viands prepared, had hit upon the expe- 
 dient, of setting two of the company to 
 right, in order to diminish the consump- 
 tion. He first engaged the combatants 
 in a political argument, and then, sitting 
 by the side of the person, who was sub- 
 sequently vanquished, continued in whis- 
 pers to inflame, or as he termed it, to 
 * prime and load" him, till he threw out 
 a sarcasm on the calling of his antagonist. 
 This led to a conflict, which terminated 
 in proving the ninth part of a man more 
 than a match for a whole man. Jack 
 completely succeeded in his mischievous 
 object, as one of the fighters was ren- 
 dered incapable of eating, by the blows 
 he received, and the appetite of the 
 other was appeased by the glory of vic- 
 tory, and thus a fair opening was made 
 for Pierrepoint, who now, with Practical, 
 the landlord, and his wife, sat down to 
 supper. 
 
 To the enquiries of the player, as to
 
 CALTHORPE. 165 
 
 his circumstances, Pierrepoint replied by 
 stating the truth, and he was in conse- 
 quence advised by Practical to take to 
 the stage. 
 
 " I know," said he, " what you can 
 do ; I know that you will be a star in 
 our ragged, wretched company, and have 
 no doubt, that powers like yours,, would 
 soon procure an invitation to the metro- 
 polis. Even here, though the pay is 
 miserable, you may gain a subsistence 
 till you have time calmly to determine 
 what course you will ultimately pursue. 
 I will introduce you to the manager of 
 a strolling band to which I belong, and 
 he, though * a dull and muddy mettled 
 rascal,' as Hamlet calls himself, will, I 
 know, give you such an engagement as 
 he can offer." 
 
 " Really," said Pierrepoint, " I know 
 not what to think of this proposition. 
 It is not eminently tempting ; for your 
 affairs, if I may judge from your
 
 166 CALTHORPE. 
 
 appearance, are somewhat ' out at el- 
 bows. 1 " 
 
 ** Curse your coat-ation" cried Practi- 
 cal. " Treat with respect the tatters of 
 genius. You, who can conduct yourself 
 with something like common propriety, 
 would do here, as every where else, better 
 than I can hope to do. I was born under 
 a threepenny-halfpenny planet, and shall 
 never live to be worth a groat. But no 
 matter, Nature has given me a good al- 
 lowance of careless gaiety, a taste for 
 mischief, and a talent for producing it ; 
 and these, in the midst of poverty and 
 privation, relieve me from the anxieties 
 of life, make me insensible to pain, and 
 lift my soul above its beggarly destiny."
 
 CALTHORPE, 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 
 " I'm like a thing that never yet was heard of, 
 Half merry and half mad ; much like a fellow 
 That eats his meat with a good appetite." 
 
 MlDDLETOK. 
 
 IHE proverb tells that "half a loaf is 
 better than no bread," and this sober 
 truth Pierrepoint began very clearly to 
 comprehend in the course of the following 
 morning, when revolving in his mind, the 
 hopeless situation in which he found him- 
 self, through the malice of Mr. Hanson, 
 and the failure of his efforts to discover 
 the person from whom he hoped for the 
 means of obtaining justice. Destitute, as 
 he was likely to be, in the course of a 
 very few days, it appeared to him, that 
 the advice of Practical was not to be 
 despised ; and he determined to go with 
 him, as the latter had proposed that he 
 should, to the manager of the company
 
 168 CALTHORPE. 
 
 which numbered Jack Practical among 
 its most efficient members. 
 
 On calling for his reckoning, Pierre- 
 pont was met by a flat refusal to make 
 any charge, and a warm invitation to 
 come again. To the determination 
 announced by Mrs Homely, he offered 
 the strongest opposition ; but she felt 
 hurt at the idea, that, because she kept 
 an inn, she could not be allowed to 
 welcome, in a friendly way, an old ac- 
 quaintance. Her husband participated 
 in this feeling, and Pierrepont was at 
 length compelled to yield to their united 
 representations. 
 
 Between two and three o'clock, Prac- 
 tical conducted him to the rural retreat 
 of the manager. This was distant more 
 than two miles from the town, and the 
 lonely cottage in which he had taken up 
 his abode, it was hinted to Pierrepoint, had 
 been preferred for more reasons than one. 
 
 The mansion in which Mr. Augustus 
 Belmont de Dunstanville had a lodging,
 
 I CALTHORPE. 169 
 
 i * 
 
 was not a most superb residence for a ruler 
 of kings, even, if he had had the whole 
 of it to himself. It was but one story 
 high ; the roof had once been thatch ; but 
 this having failed in several places, large 
 ^"otigh slabs were laid over the holes to 
 exclude the rain. The walls were of 
 stone, with two small casements in 
 front; the 4iouse was flanked with pig- 
 styes, and the whole was enclosed with 
 
 / / 
 a shapeless irregular wall, composed of 
 
 stones ^iled on each other, which were 
 not held together by mortar, or any 
 cement ; and which the foot of a strong 
 man, might have levelled with the ground 
 in an instant. 
 
 On the door being opened by a female, 
 who acted the part of servant to Mr. 
 Belmont de Dunstanville, she was ac- 
 costed by Practical, with the careless 
 effrontery, in which, on all occasions, he 
 was accustomed to indulge. 
 
 * Where's he that was Othello.' " 
 
 *< Sir !" 
 
 VOL. II. I
 
 170 CALTHORPE, 
 
 " Is old Blow Porridge at home ?" 
 
 " Who do you mean ?" 
 
 " Manager Strut. 1 ' 
 
 " Do you want Mr. Belmont-de Dun- 
 stanville ?" 
 
 " Yes ; or his wife, Bandy Juliet : 
 either will do." 
 
 " He is out." 
 
 " Is he, indeed !" said Practical ; " then 
 I dare say, he will not be long." 
 
 " He said he should not come home 
 before the evening." 
 
 " Did he ? Well, if that is the case, 
 as he never tells the truth, he'll be back 
 directly, so I'll walk in and wait for his 
 return." 
 
 The woman evidently thought this 
 arrangement somewhat objectionable; but 
 Practical, excited by her reluctance to 
 admit him, pushed resolutely forward, 
 and passed into a parlour. Here he found 
 no one, but a boiled fowl and a piece 
 of bacon were smoking on the table, and 
 these satisfied him, that the manager was
 
 CALTHORPE. 171 
 
 not far off, and suggested the means of 
 making him come forward. 
 
 " Come, sit down," said he to Pierre- 
 point : "if Mr. Augustus Belmont de 
 Dunstanville is not at home, his dinner 
 is, and that will do as well for the pre- 
 sent. So, my dear," he went on, ad- 
 dressing himself to the woman who had 
 followed, " you don't expect Mr. Belmont 
 home before the evening." 
 
 No, Sir." 
 
 " Then it *s very fortunate that I came 
 Justin time to save his dinner from being 
 spoiled. Draw your chair, Pierrepoint - 
 what part will you have ?" 
 
 Pierrepoint was confounded at witness- 
 ing the easy impudence with which Jack 
 prepared to operate on the manager's in- 
 tended meal, and declined all share in 
 the exploit ; while he inwardly reflected 
 that the introduction he was about to 
 have, was not likely to take place under 
 the most favourable circumstances that 
 could be imagined.
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 " Why, then, if you won't eat, I will," 
 cried Practical, serenely proceeding to 
 the anatomy of the fowl, and commencing 
 his meal with great glee, and apparently 
 with an excellent appetite. " It's all my 
 eye, you know, about his being out. I 
 warrant he'll soon find his way here^ 
 when he learns that his dinner is in 
 danger." 
 
 While he was speaking, some one 
 knocked at the outer door, and as soon 
 as it was opened, Mr. Belmont de Dun- 
 stanville burst into the room. He was 
 a short, thick-set man, somewhat past 
 the prime of life. His dress and em- 
 bellishments, exhibited a ludicrous jum- 
 ble of poverty and pride. His clothes 
 were nearly thread-bare, and not remark- 
 ably well assorted. His linen was not so 
 white as it might have been, considering 
 that it had the advantage of being washed 
 in the country; but he wore a very elegant 
 brooch in a shirt, the texture of which 
 would be regarded as tolerably fine for a
 
 CALTHORPE. 173 
 
 towel. A pair of jockey-boots with white 
 shining tops were drawn over the lower 
 parts of his tight pantaloons ; and three 
 elegant rings (of no great value by-the- 
 bye,) adorned that number of his fingers. 
 
 Practical, who had already made con- 
 siderable progress, had scarcely got a 
 glimpse of the irritated manager, when 
 he began to read him a lecture on his 
 want of good manners, as he considered 
 that it would be unwise to wait for 
 the attack of his adversary. He accord- 
 ingly thus accosted Mr. Augustus Bel- 
 mont de Dunstanville. 
 
 " O, ho ! little hospitality !' I thought 
 the clash of the knife and fork would 
 bring you here, as quickly as a charcoal 
 fire, a bit of bacon, and the Lord's 
 Prayer reversed, are said to raise the 
 devil. Now is it not too bad that you 
 should be denied to two gentlemen, from 
 a fear that they might take a snap with 
 you ? As we came in here, you must 
 neecls bolt out behind j but perceiving 
 i 3
 
 174 CALTHORPE. 
 
 that the trick would not do, you pass 
 round to the front of the house and come 
 in as if you had really been abroad. You 
 went through the pig-stye in your way. 
 Look, what a pickle your boot's in. 
 To come thus, now, into a dining-room ! 
 : Upon my soul it 's enough to take 
 away one's appetite." 
 
 But the appetite of Mr. Practical es- 
 caped the danger, and he continued to do 
 his best to appease it, while the manager, 
 astonished^at the unexpectedpresence of a 
 person in the dress of a gentleman, and 
 irritated by the outrageous attack on his 
 intended repast, and the home charge 
 preferred against him by the invader of 
 his retirement, could hardly recover him- 
 self sufficiently to attempt a denial of the 
 meanness, which he knew right well had 
 been justly imputed. 
 
 " Well, I don't want any apology," 
 Jack graciously proceeded. " As I par- 
 ticularly wished to see you, I am very glad 
 that you are come. Will you take a bit
 
 CALTHORPE. 175 
 
 with me ? Come, don't stand on cere- 
 mony. Here's a delicate back ; but, by- 
 the-bye, they give you very queer poul- 
 try here. This animal, I'll take my oath, 
 musthave been a great-great-grandfather : 
 in fact, a feathered Methusalem." 
 
 " Indeed ! I wish his years had 
 saved him from your jaws. But you spare 
 neither sex nor age." 
 
 " That 's the best thing you've said 
 these seven years. Help yourself to a 
 little parsley and butter, and pray make 
 free." 
 
 Accustomed as the manager was to 
 the impudence of his principal comic ac- 
 tor, the present display of his effrontery 
 before a perfect stranger, whose business 
 he was quite at a loss to guess, occasioned 
 him no small embarrassment, and hardly 
 knowing what he did, he took his seat at 
 the table to which he was so kindly in- 
 vited. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Augustus Belmont deDun- 
 stanville," cried Practical, " I am come 
 I 4
 
 176' CALTHORPE, 
 
 to make your fortune. As your friemf^ 
 you know how kindly I have often told 
 you, that your tragical waddle, though 
 a very complete thing of the kind, will 
 not do for Hamlet, even in a country 
 barn ; and though your voice would en- 
 able you to sustain indifferently well the 
 part for which I suppose you were ori- 
 ginally cast, that of eying " Dust O!" in 
 the streets, yet still it is not the thing for 
 Rolla ; and though your duck-legs, broad 
 brawny face, and dull sunken gogglers, 
 might enable you to personate the Jack 
 of Clubs with considerable effect, they 
 play the very devil with Romeo." 
 
 Arrived at this stage of his harangue, 
 the banterer threw a triumphant leer at 
 Pierrepoint, which seemed to call upon 
 him to exult at the very favourable train 
 into which he had succeeded in bringing 
 his affairs. The manager incensed at the 
 insolence of this beginning, expressed his 
 resentment with great warmth, and vehe- 
 mently vindicated his Hamlet, Rolla, and
 
 CALTHORPE. 177 
 
 Romeo, by referring to the applause which 
 he said he had received at various places, 
 and the bespeaks which his own peculiar 
 merits had obtained for the company. 
 Practical made no effort to interrupt him ; 
 but continued his operations on the fowl 
 with the most perfect composure, and 
 with unremitting assiduity. 
 
 " Your Romeo" he at length said, 
 the other having concluded, " certainly 
 afforded a treat to the lovers of farce ; 
 but to look the character decently with 
 those * lack-lustre eyes/ you ought to 
 play it in spectacles. The bespeak on 
 which you plume yourself, for we've had 
 but one for a century, was merely a joke, 
 for the pleasure of seeing, in Mrs. Au- 
 gustus Belmont de Dunstanville, a bandy 
 Juliet." 
 
 The manager now vindicated the per- 
 sonal merits of his lady, and Practical 
 continued to ply his knife and fork as 
 before ; and when Mr. De Dunstanville 
 again arrived at a pause, he was once 
 i 5
 
 178 CALTHORPE. 
 
 more put to his mettle, by a sneer at his 
 " monkey-faced brat," as Jack thought 
 proper to call the son and heir of the 
 person he was tormenting. 
 
 By the time the new oration, thus ex- 
 torted, was brought to an end, Jack, 
 having finished his repast, was picking 
 his teeth. All the upbraidings and 
 threats of the manager seemed to be 
 wholly unregarded, and Practical pro- 
 ceeded to reply with great affability. 
 
 " You have very ably defended your- 
 self, and all your live stock, and I have 
 taken care of the dead. The fowl was 
 excellent, and I have done justice to it. 
 Had I not found a substitute for the 
 poultry, to occupy you, I was fearful that 
 there would not be enough for us both, 
 and I am obliged to economise. You 
 have had an opportunity of displaying 
 your powers, and I have had a dinner, 
 such as I but rarely taste ; as Macbeth 
 says, * So foul and fair a day I have 
 not seen.' Now then to business."
 
 CALTHORPE. 179 
 
 " You may go about yours," the 
 manager sulkily replied. 
 
 " But it is yours that I come about. 
 Mr. Pierrepoint, allow me to introduce 
 you to my friend Mr. Augustus Belmont 
 de Dunstanville, who is a most excel- 
 lent man, and an actor of transcendant 
 merit." 
 
 " Now you're coming it the other 
 way !" 
 
 " Think not I flatter: I told this gen- 
 tleman as we came along, that you, Mrs. De 
 Dunstanville, and Master Cupid Henry 
 Augustus, form a constellation of virtue 
 and talent, such as J had never met with 
 before." 
 
 *' This is worse than the other," cried 
 the manager ; but it was evident that 
 the flattery, gross as it was, had in some 
 measure subdued his resentment. 
 
 " That I think highly of you," con- 
 tinued Jack, " is most true.' And so 
 have I spoken of you in your absence 
 this very day. Have I not done so ?" 
 j 6
 
 180 CALTHORPE. 
 
 Pierrepoint started at the unblush- 
 ing impudence of this appeal to him, 
 as he could not but remember, that all 
 he had said out of doors, was in the 
 spirit of that which he had just addressed 
 to Mr. De Dunstanville. 
 
 Practical took silence for assent, and 
 went on. 
 
 " There, you see, that gentleman con- 
 firms what I have said. If you have a 
 testament handy I'll swear to it. I had 
 before told him of your merit, and I 
 thought that 1 could not do better, than 
 give you the opportunity just afforded, 
 of showing how well you can act the 
 part of the father, the husband, and 
 the man. Now, to return to business. 
 This gentleman is Mr. Pierrepoint, a 
 star of the first magnitude, who, I have 
 no doubt, will produce you from five to 
 ten pounds each night he plays, in every 
 town that we are permitted to infest. 
 I don't want you to buy a pig in a poke. 
 Make no engagement till you have seen
 
 CALTHORPE. 181 
 
 him perform. After that you must be 
 liberal, and must not take into your con- 
 sideration, while negociating with him, 
 the excellent turnip-fields near this place, 
 in which the rest of your company some- 
 times seek a dinner; it is the more neces- 
 sary that he should have a good salary, 
 as he is wholly unacquainted with what 
 we technically call cadging or sponging, 
 and would therefore be likely to let a 
 dinner slip through his fingers, if one 
 came in his way." 
 
 " Could not you," enquired Mr. De 
 Dunstanville, looking ruefully at the 
 back of the vanished fowl, and half a 
 leg, which Practical had kindly put on 
 his plate, " teach your" friend how to 
 play his cards better than that ?" 
 
 " No," replied Jack, " for he is an 
 original, and disdains to copy from ex- 
 cellence itself." 
 
 The manager soon consented to allow 
 Pierrepoint to act for one night, and the 
 part of Rolla was selected for his debut.
 
 182 CALTHORPE. 
 
 Practical, when they left Mr. De Dun- 
 stanville, assured Pierrepoint that he was 
 a most intolerable and sordid tyrant, out 
 of whom nothing could be got, but by 
 bullying and cajoling him alternately. 
 
 " But," said Pierrepoint, " you carry 
 your insolence to such an extravagant 
 pitch, that I wonder how he can endure 
 it." 
 
 Jack explained, and told his friend, 
 that, besides being of some importance 
 to the manager as a comedian, his talent 
 for writing play bills, gave him additional 
 influence, and, together with the arrears 
 of salary now due to him, and the appre- 
 hensions entertained, lest he should ac- 
 quaint Bandy Juliet (as he always called 
 Mrs. De Dunstanville), with the par- 
 ticulars of a scene acted between 
 Osmond, (that was the manager's charac- 
 ter), and the representative of the 
 Castle Spectre, when the play of that 
 name was performed, of which he had 
 been accidentally a witness, made Mr.
 
 CALTHORPE. 183 
 
 Augustus unwilling to provoke him too 
 far, 
 
 " This," said he, " gives me the power 
 of persecuting him with impunity, and I 
 am not at all scrupulous, as you may 
 partly see, about using the advantage 
 chance has given me over him. I must 
 have another quarrel with him to-morrow 
 about your dress, for all the rubbish 
 of his wardrobe is not worth a guinea. 
 He shall not make a scare-crow of 
 you ; but I cannot prevent him from do- 
 ing it, without another breeze. The 
 wretched tatters in which we exhibit, 
 will astonish you. Would you believe it, 
 the same garment does for Lord To^wnly 
 and Sylvester Daggerwood ! Sir Simon 
 Rochdale, was played t'other night in an 
 old watchman's coat, borrowed for the 
 occasion, and since confiscated. I did 
 Job Thornberry, in shirt sleeves, (most 
 curiously patched by-the-bye,) and the 
 last time we had * Antony and Cleopa- 
 tra,' though bandy Juliet came out in
 
 184 CALTHORPE. 
 
 her best duds, * I'm the son of a whet- 
 stone,' if you could have likened the 
 superb Queen of Egypt, to any thing 
 but a bag of rags, on its way to a pa- 
 per-mill."
 
 CALTHORPE. 185 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 it ; 
 
 " I do not like you, Sir ; 
 
 You're an ill-favoured fellow, in my eye." 
 
 CHAPMAN. 
 
 thing was soon arranged, by the 
 address and impudence of Practical, and 
 the manager acted with unwonted libe- 
 rality, by the new candidate for histrionic 
 fame, by purchasing a dress, that was 
 really pretty well suited to the character 
 which Pierrepoint was to sustain j who 
 at length made his debut as the Peruvian 
 hero, in " Pizarro," with great eclat. In 
 all the principal scenes he was greeted 
 with the most rapturous applause. But 
 one individual seemed displeased. He 
 was as regular in his disapprobation, as 
 the rest of the audience were constant 
 in their praise j and the moment their
 
 186 CALTHORPE. 
 
 shouts of " Bravo !" subsided, his cry of 
 " Off, off !" was heard. This continued 
 till the fourth act, when the manifest in- 
 justice of the malcontent, made him an 
 object of general indignation ; and he was 
 forcibly ejected, by a very summary pro- 
 cess, which was, perhaps, not altogether 
 agreeable to his feelings. 
 
 The manager was in high spirits, and 
 the exultation of Practical knew no 
 bounds. Mr. Augustus, on such an oc- 
 casion, feeling disposed to be liberal, in- 
 vited Pierrepoint, his friend Jack, and se- 
 veral of the other performers, to take part 
 of a bowl of punch. Pierrepoint would 
 gladly have declined joining them j but 
 without an appearance of unsociable 
 pride, he could not get off, and he reluc- 
 tantly consented to accompany the ma- 
 nager and his comedians to Homely's. 
 
 All were in great good humour, the 
 conversation was gay, and the utmost 
 harmony prevailed ; when the second bowl
 
 CALTHORPE. 187 
 
 being nearly out, the manager demanded 
 to be informed, of what he had to pay. 
 
 This was viewed by Mr. Practical, as 
 a most ungracious act, and without cere- 
 mony, or preface, he began to pour a 
 torrent of ludicrous abuse on Mr. De 
 Dunstanville, in the course of which, he 
 did not scruple to throw out some pretty 
 intelligent hints respecting Mrs. De 
 Dunstanville, which could not be alto- 
 gether agreeable to her husband. 
 
 " You had better not throw out such 
 insinuations," cried the Manager, with a 
 look of awful menace. 
 
 " Then call for another bowl. Insi- 
 nuations, indeed ! Come, I like that. 
 But call for another bowl. Mrs. De 
 Dunstanville's character, like yours, may 
 defy calumny ; so don't be alarmed. 
 Call for another bowl. The last time 
 you did lago, don't you remember the 
 grin you got, when you came to the 
 line, 
 
 " Wear your eye thus not jealous, nor secure,"
 
 188 CALTHORPE. 
 
 Here Practical gave such a burlesque 
 imitation of Mr. De Dunstanville's man- 
 ner, that all present recognised it with a 
 burst of involuntary laughter. The tor- 
 mentor proceeded, 
 
 " Now, it was not the diabolical squint, 
 which you recommended to Othello, while 
 repeating the words * wear your eye 
 thus* that caused all the laughter, but 
 it was that association of ideas, that, 
 on similar occasions, must always be ex- 
 pected to pursue such virtuous beings, 
 as Mrs. De Dunstanville' and yourself." 
 
 Pierrepoint felt hurt at the indeco- 
 rous conduct of Jack. He defended 
 the manager, and declared that to 
 drink more, would be worse than use- 
 less. Jack, however, reiterated his calls 
 on the manager for another bowl j though 
 the other actors, following the example 
 of Pierrepoint, decided against it. 
 
 " I am not going to call in more 
 punch, when there is nobody to drink it 
 but you," growled the Manager, sulkily
 
 CALTHORPE. 189 
 
 throwing his head into his right hand, 
 the elbow belonging to which rested on 
 the round table that had been placed for 
 their accommodation. 
 
 Jack had long meditated mischief. 
 His hooked stick was engaged with the 
 handle of the lock, beneath the table, and 
 the moment that Mr. De Dunstanville re- 
 clined his head in the manner described, 
 his persecutor gave a sudden twitch, the 
 top of the table turned up, and bowl, 
 ladle, glasses, and candlesticks, were in- 
 stantly hurled in the direction of the 
 unfortunate Manager, who started at the 
 shock, and beheld the clattering ruin in 
 speechless agony. 
 
 Practical Executed this trick so adroit- 
 ly, that no one suspected the part he had 
 taken. He was the first that ventured 
 any thing beyond an expression of sur- 
 prise. 
 
 " There ! there 1" he exclaimed, 
 " there are the precious fruits of shabbi- 
 ness. Let this be a warning to you,
 
 190 CALTHORPE. 
 
 Mr. Augustus Belmont De Dunstanville. 
 Had you called in another bowl, as I 
 advised, that lump of wood which you 
 wear instead of a head would not have 
 been thrown on the table, and the glasses 
 and bowl would have remained whole-" 
 
 " You canna ha* broken them all ?" 
 said Mrs. Homely, giving her assertion a 
 tone which made it an interrogatory. 
 
 " Make yourself easy, Mrs. Homely. 
 They're all gone all broken, as if they 
 had been but so many Commandments. 
 Now, let him know what he has to pay." 
 
 Before this direction could be com- 
 plied with, a person, who had been 
 knocking at the street-door for some 
 time, was admitted. The instant Practi- 
 cal saw him, he exclaimed, " Turn him 
 out ! Turn him out 1" .and forthwith pro- 
 ceeded to throw himself into a boxing 
 attitude, exclaiming, 
 
 " Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe ; 
 A villain that has hither come in spite, 
 To scorn at our solemnity this night." 
 
 16
 
 CALTHORPE. 191 
 
 The stranger receded. He had been 
 allowed to enter in consequence of his 
 declaring that he had business with the 
 actors ; but Practical at once recognised 
 in him the person who had hissed Pierre- 
 point. As the intruder retired, he 
 repeatedly called, Rolla, Holla ! Pierre- 
 point, George !" 
 
 " I'll Rolla you !" cried Jack. I'll 
 teach you to hiss again !" 
 
 " Stop !" cried Pierrepoint, in an au- 
 thoritative tone. 
 
 " * What ! shall he seek the lion in his 
 den, and beard him there ?' " exclaimed 
 the player, making a furious blow at the 
 enemy. 
 
 Pierrepoint now seized his friend by 
 the throat, and threw him back with 
 violence. 
 
 " f What ! will you kill me for my kind- 
 ness ?' " cried Jack, in the language of 
 Marplot. " Why this is the rascal that 
 hissed. Let me get at the Amalekite." 
 
 " He had a right to hiss me. He is
 
 192 CALTHORPE. 
 
 my friend my particular friend my 
 
 rather . - )(> ( j, . 
 
 " O, that's quite another thing. Let 
 
 me shake hands with him. As Pierre 
 
 says, 
 
 Come, let's heal this breach, 
 I am too hot, we yt may all live friends.' " 
 
 But his hand was indignantly spurned 
 by the person he had intended to con- 
 ciliate, and who now, in a tone of dis- 
 pleasure, addressed Pierrepoint. 
 
 " What, in the devil's name, brings 
 you here ? What business have you with 
 this vagabond gang ?" 
 
 Jack again put himself forward, but 
 Pierrepoint stopped his mouth. 
 
 " Why did you join this banditti ? 
 Why turn stroller?" 
 
 " Because distress left me no other 
 
 resource," 
 
 " How can that be, when I myself 
 placed you, where, with prudence, you 
 could hardly fail to make a fortune ?"
 
 CALTHORPE. 193 
 
 " The story is rather long, and this i s 
 not a convenient time or place for telling 
 it." 
 
 " Then, come with me to my lodgings 
 directly, and tell these strollers that you 
 now turn them off." 
 
 Practical stared at the contempt ex- 
 pressed for himself and his brother-corn- 
 medians, by a person of no very re- 
 spectable appearance, and whose manner 
 seemed as rude and vulgar, as his attire 
 was shabby. He felt very much inclined 
 to attack him ; but his friend Pierrepoint 
 had called the stranger his father, and 
 therefore, he could not venture on such 
 an experiment. But he knew not how to 
 believe him serious, as, after bidding the 
 company good night, he accosted the 
 person who waited, as Mr. Calthorpe. 
 The whole was a riddle which he could 
 not solve ; and having seen them 
 depart, he gave up guessing at it, and 
 turned to enjoy the distress of his ma- 
 
 VOL. IT. K
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 nager, who had now to go through the 
 painful task of settling with Mr. and 
 Mrs. Homely, for the punch bowl and 
 
 glasses. 
 
 JIIX /5AHD 
 
 bias \d?M ITC i9ii ba-j ,90-3 <ihi ni , 
 9503791 Jnleq faluorf? dbtrfw aiyoilS 
 ..2no 9j(fl ^ 
 
 .1 ,eLdT 
 *.. 
 
 0. 
 . 
 
 ioqsiisH t fl99ix) a*/iuM ni 
 
 bsrisos'i bsd Off JnamiBSti srfJ mid 
 
 aril t mhi bgfftefte? bac t noanaH .* 
 
 .{q J5'% ggsaiaud 9dt qu 
 
 ?iQ09n d^uoirfl ^ud t 9oiodD moii 
 
 nfirijsod tfi vfiteijf iaom 9iow8 
 
 d* V/ / . 
 
 -fiornrnoO f)iii'^o ggsnuBsm srii'to 
 : j ?9iq JrrioqeKttsH: fi9rtw iud ^ nsm 
 irnca .jifisd vte jgorn bu.il ori rfoidw 
 
 * V- 
 
 ratoo-'-oJ iebio ni ^ bsttc? 
 ^hi ^Jnomo^fi^tto aid I-
 
 CALTHORPE. 195 
 
 '.'i.f TJgl)01fW 
 
 j'ifi .iM ifoiw guill' 
 
 1 '/cd ifonuq srfa "tol //IsmoB 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 w For, in his face, red heat and ashy cold 
 
 Strove which should paint revenge in proper colours; 
 
 That, like consuming fire most dreadful roll'd ; 
 This, liker death threatens all deadly dolours." 
 
 PHINEAS FLETCHEB. 
 
 Conducted by Calthorpe to his lodgings 
 in Nun's Green, Pierrepoint recounted to 
 him the treatment he had received from 
 Mr. Hanson, and satisfied him, that he 
 had taken up the business of a player, 
 not from choice, but through necessity. 
 Calthorpe swore most lustily at hearing 
 of the meanness of the Common-council- 
 man ; but when Pierrepoint pressed that 
 which he had most at heart, namely, that 
 legal * measures should promptly be re- 
 sorted to, in order to compel the Deputy 
 to fulfil his engagements, his friend 
 K 2
 
 196 CALTHORPE. 
 
 shook his head, and seemed by no me&is 
 prepared to venture on such an experi- 
 
 i r l 
 
 ment. 
 
 " I'll tell you what," said he, "I know 
 a little about the law, for I was an 
 attorney's clerk in my younger days, and 
 I know, that in many cases, attempting 
 to recover what you have a right to, is 
 only throwing good money after bad. 
 At present, I have very little to spare, 
 so, as the saying is, must * look before I 
 leap.' You stand in need of immediate 
 relief; for, I think, fasting till an action 
 
 could be commenced and ended, would 
 
 ^ 
 
 not agree with your constitution. Sup- 
 pose foi the present, you were to take the 
 situation of secretary to a gentleman of 
 some importance in this neighbourhood." 
 
 " But, can any thing of the kind be 
 obtained ?" 
 
 " Leave that to me. It's only a week 
 ago that I heard Sir James Denville 
 asking for one." 
 
 " Sir James Denville, did you say ?"
 
 CALTHORPE. 197 
 
 * c Yes, I did. What do you know of 
 Sir James Denville, pray ? hey ! what 
 do you know of him ?" 
 
 Caltliorpe pressed this question, with 
 more appearance of anxious curiosity 
 than was usual with him. Pierrepoint 
 replied, 
 
 " Nay, I know nothing about him ; 
 but, living in the same house with young 
 Burleigh, and being intimate with him, 
 I have often heard the name of Sir James 
 mentioned." 
 
 " O ! I recollect : yes, somebody 
 told me that Harry Burleigh was at 
 Hanson's. Well, you must hold your 
 tongue about that ; Sir James is not fond 
 of having those with him, who have 
 heard much of his concerns ; so you need 
 not say any thing of your acquaintance 
 with Harry Burleigh ; and, indeed, it 
 will be as well to conceal the fact of 
 your having been long known to me. I 
 shall introduce you merely as a player 
 K 3
 
 198 CALTHORPE. 
 
 that I have scraped an acquaintance with 
 
 ^- yj 
 
 in this town." 
 
 ^^rrr n_L. *i \ t T> rr L*^*^P *r '^~t 1 1 rt \ i $ 
 
 " But, will the Baronet be likely to 
 eogage a person on so slight a recom- 
 mendation ." 
 
 ,,rp i i Ku,nj:5 J, 
 
 " To be sure he will. I shall request 
 
 him to do so, and it is not very likely 
 that he will consider it wise to offend me 
 
 hv a refusal " 
 oy a reiusai. 
 
 These words were most significantly 
 uttered by Calthorpe; a laugh of tri- 
 umph followed them ; and he carelessly 
 turned his conversation to other subjects. 
 
 It was by this time four o'clock in the 
 morning. Calthorpe bestowed himself in 
 bed. Pierrepoint, by his directions, took 
 possession of a large arm chair, and both 
 were soon fast asleep. At the end of 
 four hours, Pierrepoint awoke j he arose, 
 and waited with impatience for the ter- 
 mination of Calthorpe's slumbers, but 
 
 waited lone in vain. The clock had 
 
 
 
 struck ten, and his friend continued to 
 snore as musically as if he had been but
 
 CALTHORPE. 199 
 
 at the commencement of his first half- 
 hour. Pierrepoint began to fear that the 
 time for seeing Sir James would be past. 
 Under this impression he ventured to 
 rouse Mr. Calthorpe, who grumbled at be- 
 ing disturbed, but forthwith arose, called 
 to the people of the house to bring him 
 some bread and bacon, with cheese and 
 ale directly, and invited Pierrepoint to 
 partake of this his favourite breakfast. 
 
 Little used to such luxury, but unwill- 
 
 r 
 
 ing to offend, by what Calthorpe would 
 have regarded as a display of effeminacy, 
 Pierrepoint partook, though but sparingly 
 of the repast, repeatedly urging the ne- 
 cessity of dispatch. But he was always 
 answered, that they were time enough. 
 Sir James, it was probable, had hardly 
 
 risen himself yet, and if he had risen 
 
 j 
 
 and gone out, why the next day would 
 
 j 11 
 
 do as well. 
 
 " But, in the mean time, suppose he 
 
 * ~ 
 
 should engage with some other person," 
 
 said Pierrepoint. 
 1 
 
 *.t: Yfioieum 86 aif 
 
 K 4
 
 200 ' CALTHORPE. 
 
 " Well, what then !" Calthorpe calmly 
 replied. " In that case, Sir James must 
 discharge the other, and take you in his 
 place ; that's all I know of the matter." 
 
 The consequential air, with which this 
 was spoken, and indeed, with which Cal- 
 thorpe usually uttered all that he had 
 to say about Sir James Denville, did not 
 by any means satisfy Pierrepoint, that 
 he possessed that influence over the 
 Baronet to which he pretended. He 
 was, however, impatient to have the ques- 
 tion decided, and never ceased his im- 
 portunity, till he prevailed on Calthorpe 
 to set out for the abode of Sir James. 
 
 They arrived at a splendid, newly- 
 built mansion gained access to Sir 
 James, and Pierrepoint heard the busi- 
 ness they went about entered upon 
 immediately. The Baronet looked dis- 
 pleased and mortified j but his words 
 were not unkind. He heard the recom- 
 mendation given of Pierrepoint with 
 ,calmness, and assented to the terms
 
 CALTHORPE. 201 
 
 which Calthorpe thought proper to pro- 
 pose, and which were very liberal, with 
 an air of resignation. All was set- 
 tied in the course of a few minutes, 
 and Pierrepoint was informed, that he 
 might enter on his new office that very 
 hour. This matter being arranged, Cal- 
 thorpe took his departure, congratulating 
 each, on being introduced to the other, 
 and finishing with a hint, that as he had 
 served the Baronet on this occasion, he 
 (as one good turn deserved another) 
 should expect that Sir James would be 
 ready to assist him on the following 
 Friday. 
 
 A reproachful glance, from the lower- 
 ing eye of Sir James was the only answer 
 called forth by this appeal. Pierrepoint 
 felt embarrassed, by the rudeness of the 
 person who had brought him there ; he 
 respectfully expressed his desire to merit 
 the approbation of the Baronet, and so- 
 licited admonition, where he might inad- 
 vertently err. Sir James, absorbed in 
 x 5
 
 202 CALTHORPE. 
 
 thought, replied with cold politeness, in 
 a manner which plainly indicated that 
 he had no wish to prolong the convers- 
 ation. iic>w 
 
 But a very few days exhibited the 
 Baronet in a different light. The zeal 
 and assiduity of his new secretary, at- 
 tracted his attention and commanded his 
 esteem. He was agreeably surprised, 
 and he scrupled not to express his satis* 
 faction to Pierrepoint himself. 
 
 " I expected," said he, " from the 
 character of the man who introduced 
 you, and whom, from time immemorial, 
 I have allowed to take strange liberties 
 with me, to find you a rude, illiterate 
 profligate. Your late profession did not 
 refute this suspicion, and I feel most 
 happy at finding you the reverse of all 
 that I had imagined." 
 
 " Your kindness, Sir James, in giving 
 me a trial under such circumstances, 
 deserves my warmest gratitude." 
 
 Why, I could not find in my heart
 
 CALTHORPE. 203 
 
 to refuse a poor, and humble, but very 
 old acquaintance, like Calthorpe. How 
 
 old are you^'gaoloiq o* rfeiv/ on fcjsd &r*- 
 
 " I am about to close my twenty-first 
 year.5 J jjidafxs i3 
 
 " Have you been an actor long ?" 
 
 " No, Sir James." 
 
 " I should like to witness the display 
 of your talents in that way. Formerly 
 I was very fond of theatricals. I have 
 an apartment in this house at present 
 used as a dining-room, fitted up with 
 trap-doors, and all other stage accom- 
 modations, in which I have some thoughts 
 of having a play or two performed in the 
 course of the season." frrift 
 
 While speaking, he conducted Pierre- 
 point, to the room of which he had 
 spoken. Every thing was most elegantly 
 complete. 
 
 Pierrepoint was admiring the decora- 
 tions of the apartment, when Calthorpe 
 entered. 
 
 " O ! said he, I find you are quite at 
 K 6
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 home here. Sir James, I am in a great 
 hurry this morning, do you happen to 
 have ten or twenty pounds about you ?" 
 
 " I believe not," replied the Baronet. 
 
 " 1 know you must have ten. Come 
 hand it over ; I'll call, for the rest next 
 
 week." <v 7 jf '>;}.< offfrf-ftft fooo'o 9f(1 
 
 " Pierrepoint was surprised at the care- 
 less ease with which this request was 
 made, and still more so at finding it calmly 
 complied with. On receiving the money, 
 Calthorpe made his<exit a$ abruptly as 
 he had entered. -.foaKft 'iiins-*. 
 
 Sir James looked at his secretary, as 
 if he sought to read whether or not his 
 intimacy with Calthorpe had prepared 
 him to expect such insolent liberties as he 
 had witnessed. He could perceive no- 
 thing but astonishment on the part of 
 Pierrepoint. 
 
 " I mustbumourthiseccentricwretch!" 
 he exclaimed. " He has served me in 
 other days, and he knows that it is not in 
 my nature to be ungrateful. This be-
 
 CALTHORE. 205 
 
 trays him at times into those indecorous 
 freedoms which some might resent, but 
 which I can only laugh at." 
 
 To himself, Pierrepoint found the Ba- 
 ronet equally liberal and polite. His 
 servants seemed to consider that they had 
 the good fortune to live under an indul- 
 gent master. Nor did the benevolence 
 of Sir James stop here. He had with 
 much tenderness had an apartment fitted 
 up in a detached building atsome distance 
 from the house, for the accommodation 
 of a distant female relation who was in- 
 sane. There she had resided for several 
 years. The servants had at first been 
 allowed to see her ; but some of them 
 were thoughtless enough to make a jest 
 of the incoherent expressions which fell 
 from the disordered sufferer, and in con- 
 sequence they were not now allowed to 
 approach her, one woman excepted, who 
 was her constant attendant. The patient 
 had method in her madness, and, indulged 
 with pencils and colours, she had pro-
 
 206 CALTHORPE. 
 
 duced several romantic pictures, in which 
 she represented herself as suffering under 
 the power of a potent and cruel enchan- 
 ter. Several small cabinets, which she 
 had made with straw furnished for the 
 purpose, proved her versatility equal to 
 her taste ; and the brief mottoes which 
 she had contrived to inscribe on these, 
 evidently sprang from the same delusion 
 which furnished the subjects of her paint- 
 ings. 
 
 Under one so kind as Sir James Den- 
 ville, Pierrepoint had been ha'ppy but 
 for the proceedings of Calthorpe, who 
 seldom suffered more than a week to 
 pass, without appearing to solicit, or ra- 
 ther to demand pecuniary aid. Sir James, 
 though evidently displeased, seldom re- 
 sented that conduct, which seemed to his 
 secretary equally unreasonable and extra- 
 ordinary. But the slightest reproof on 
 his part, never failed to call forth the 
 most insolent taunts from his pensioner ; 
 and Sir James was always unwilling to
 
 CALTHOKPE. 207 
 
 prolong the quarrel. On the subject of 
 his rudeness, Pierrepoint once took upon 
 himself to remonstrate with Calthorpe 
 in the absence of the Baronet, and to 
 give it as his opinion that if he did not 
 use more caution, he would infallibly lose 
 the friendship of Sir James. - otgt 
 
 * A fig for his friendship 1" cried Cal- 
 thorpe. " You mind your own business, 
 George, and leave me to manage mine. 
 The Baronet must not quarrel with me 
 even though I should become ten times 
 more troublesome than I am at present." 
 off* Are you sure of that ?" 
 
 " Quite. He dare not provoke me, 
 by refusing any supply that I may think 
 proper to ask." 
 
 " That seems strange," Pierrepoint re- 
 marked. 
 
 " But not more strange than true. He 
 might almost as well hang himself as 
 make me his enemy." 
 
 Pierrepoint listened with amazement. 
 To him the language of Calthorpe con-
 
 208 CALTHORPE. 
 
 veyed the idea, that Sir James had been 
 guilty of some crime, which it was in the 
 power of Calthorpe to disclose. With 
 this feeling he could not refrain from 
 saying, 
 
 " You speak as if you were privy to 
 something, that, if known, would destroy 
 him." 
 
 " To be sure I do." 
 
 " Is it possible that he can have com- 
 mitted any crime that that " 
 
 " O ! no, it is not that. If any 
 crime has been committed, it was before 
 he was born almost at least before he 
 was capable of mischief and by me. 
 He knows this well enough, and pays 
 me to be a good fellow to myself; that 
 is, he assists me now and then as you see, 
 to prevent me from betraying my own 
 roguery."
 
 .THORPE. 
 
 jtij ni ^Kw ii doidw t 9mra sm< 
 mb ot oqwrfttaO 
 moit ' fiififtsT iott blooo f > 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 " If she be mad, (as I believe no other,) 
 
 Her madness hath the oddest frame of sense, 
 
 Such a dependency of thing on thing, 
 
 As e'er I heard in madness." SHAKSPEARK. 
 
 1 HE house, of which Pierrepoint had 
 become an inmate, stood at a moderate 
 distance from the main road. In other 
 days-, the Denvilles had preferred being 
 more withdrawn from the vulgar gaze; 
 and their residence was a full quarter of 
 a mile farther from the public way than 
 the modern erection. The old house 
 had been suffered to fall to decay, and 
 part of it had been converted into 
 stables j but by degrees it became too 
 ruinous, and too old fashioned, to be used 
 ven as a dwelling-place for horses, and 
 a more commodious range of buildings
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 had recently been provided in another 
 i i 
 
 situation. j 9 & ^ { jj*^ 
 
 Of the ancient mansion but little re- 
 mained. One tower was standing ; but 
 the walls which had connected it with 
 the rest of the building, were, in most 
 places, level with the ground j in others 
 they still exhibited some appearance of 
 strength, and one small part had been 
 thought sufficiently sound to form, as- 
 sisted with a few additional stones, the 
 principal wall of a little hovel, appro- 
 priated to the reception of the gardener's 
 lumber. The profusely-spreading ivy, 
 had nearly covered the surface of the 
 lonely tower that remained, as if anxious 
 to conceal the ravages which time had 
 made in its once impenetrable front. 
 But the tower was in tolerable repair, as 
 Sir James had directed it to be attended 
 to, and strengthened where this was 
 necessary, when the apartments which it 
 contained were fitted up for the recep- 
 tion of the maniac, and her attendant.
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 The entrance was adorned with two 
 small pillars of the Ionic order, beneath 
 the capitals of which, on either side, the 
 representation of a mermaid appeared; 
 and this conducted the eye to other 
 decorations, equally fantastic. The whole 
 was surmounted by the arms of the royal 
 family of England, and the letters I. R. 
 seen in connection with the date 1606, 
 proved these embellishments to have been 
 supplied in the time of James the First. 
 The lapse of two centuries had materially 
 injured them ; but they were still modern, 
 compared with the other remains of the 
 edifice, with which they were connected. 
 Pierrepoint had been in his new situ- 
 ation only a few days, when curiosity led 
 him to inspect the ruin. But when he 
 drew near, the frightfully discordant 
 voice of its frantic inmate, created a 
 sensation so painful, that he soon retired, 
 and felt no inclination to repeat his 
 visit. About this time Sir James left his 
 seat for the metropolis. He had been
 
 212 CALTHORPE. 
 
 absent nearly a week; and Pierrepoint, 
 at a loss how to occupy his time, fre- 
 quently strolled for hours in the grounds 
 without any definite object. Accident, 
 one afternoon, conducted him through a 
 thickly wooded part of the park, which 
 he had not previously explored, to the 
 ancient tower, which it had been his 
 study to shun. He came on it before he 
 was aware that it was to be found in the 
 direction which he had listlessly taken ; 
 and gazing on its rugged aspect, while 
 contemplating its mouldering battlements 
 and fallen pride, he could not but com- 
 pare its present ruined state, with that of 
 its hopeless inmate. 
 
 " This building," thought he, " for- 
 merly charmed the eye, by the strength 
 and elegance which it united ; the ad- 
 joining halls were filled with brilliant, 
 joyous groups ; and the menial train 
 dependent upon them, eagerly listened 
 to catch the overflowings of abounding 
 mirth ; while the foaming goblet taught
 
 CALTHORPE. 213 
 
 the song to ascend,"which commemorated 
 the exploits of chivalry, or the triumphs 
 of beauty. Now deserted and forgotten, 
 the rude winds range tmcontrouled 
 through the roofless apartments, or burst 
 the uncouth apertures, in which superbly 
 decorated windows once shone in all the 
 variegated splendour, that successful art 
 could bestow ; whilst no sound supplies 
 the place of the harmony long familiar 
 with this spot, but the harsh tones of the 
 bird of night, or the ravings of a maniac. 
 Nor less severe the destiny of its hapless 
 tenant. In the pride of intellect, in the 
 bloom of youth, in the splendour of 
 female loveliness, she perhaps graced the 
 gayest assemblies of the gay j but now, 
 doomed to mental darkness, she raves 
 away her slowly departing hours in soli- 
 tude, consigned even by humanity to a 
 lonely prison. 
 
 He listened for the sounds which had 
 formerly appalled, but he heard them 
 not. The roaring of the winds, which at
 
 t CALTHORPE. 
 
 this moment seemed to select the deso- 
 late ruin as the peculiar object of their 
 wrath, would probably have prevented 
 them from reaching his ear, had they 
 continued to issue from the apartment of 
 the maniac. His mind still dwelt on the 
 awful vicissitudes which the poor im- 
 mured being had known, and from 
 these, by a quick transition, his thoughts 
 passed to the awful reverse of fortune 
 experienced by one, whose name and 
 whose image he fondly cherished, though 
 without entertaining a hope connected 
 with them, but that of one day seeing 
 her happy in the arms of another, re- 
 stored to that station, comfort, and 
 society, from which she had in a moment 
 been snatched by a catastrophe not less 
 horrible than unexpected. >d bus 
 
 And now it occurred to him, as he was 
 to all appearance settled for many 
 months, if not for years to come, that 
 it was fitting he should make known 
 to Mrs. Burleigh and her daughter his
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 good fortune, and enable them to com- 
 municate with him. From them he 
 hoped to receive news of his friend 
 Henry, and he reproached himself for 
 not having written before. When he 
 last saw Harriet, he remembered the 
 request that he had made. He had en- 
 treated her, if he could in any way serve 
 her, not to go through the form of soli- 
 citing his aid, but to favour him with the 
 initial of her name. After this, he felt 
 that he ought not for many weeks to 
 have left her without the means of ad- 
 dressing a letter to him. But he con- 
 soled himself by reflecting, that the visit 
 which she had been about to make, was 
 likely- &o detain her from home till the 
 time at which his mind was thus engaged; 
 and he also felt, that to assume that he 
 was likely to remain the secretary of 
 Sir James, considering all the circum- 
 stances of his introduction, immediately 
 on his being placed in that situation, 
 might have been premature.
 
 216 CALTHORPE. 
 
 Resolved that no farther delay should 
 take place, he determined instantly to 
 return to the house and prepare a letter. 
 He had advanced but a few steps, when 
 a faint shriek, coming from the tower, 
 seemed to mingle with the blast. Pierre- 
 point supposed it to proceed from tin- 
 maniac, but the cry was very unlike tin- 
 sounds which he had formerly heard. 
 His eyes were fixed on the building, 
 when he perceived a hand passed through 
 one of the narrow apertures, originally 
 constructed to give a passage to the hos- 
 tile arrow, without exposing the person 
 of the archer, from whose bow it w:i> 
 sped. The hand was soon withdrawn, but 
 a moment after he perceived something 
 falling, which he supposed to have been 
 dropped from it. It was carried nearly 
 out of sight by the wind, when a sudden 
 gust wafted it near the ruin, and it rested 
 on the grass, within thirty yards of 
 Pierrepoint. 
 
 As it fell, it appeared to be some trifle, 
 
 
 
 i
 
 CALTHORPE. 217 
 
 thrown away as useless, and he felt little 
 curiosity to examine it. He, however, 
 directed his steps to the spot where he 
 perceived it to lie, when, to his infinite 
 astonishment, he beheld the letter H, 
 ingeniously formed of straw. The coin- 
 cidence was striking ; he had just re- 
 called the request made to Harriet, that 
 she should bring that very letter under 
 his observation, if distress should assail, 
 or if his assistance should in any way be 
 wanted, and now a communication, like 
 that which his eccentric delicacy had 
 suggested, came from the lonely tower in 
 which he understood a maniac to be 
 confined. Strange ideas chased each 
 other through his bewildered mind. The 
 mysterious power which Calthorpe exer- 
 cised over Sir James the hints thrown 
 out by the former, that the new secretary 
 would do well to conceal from his em- 
 ployer that he had been acquainted 
 with the Burleighs, he could not help 
 connecting, though he hardly knew 
 
 VOL. II. L
 
 2-1 8 CALTHORPE. 
 
 whv, with the singular incident which had 
 filled him with amazement. His 
 gaze was now eagerly directed to the 
 summit of the tower ; the hand was 
 again thrust forward ; and a second com- 
 munication appeared on its way. The 
 wind opposed its descent j a sudden blast 
 carried it over the neighbouring trees, 
 and it was irrecoverably lost. Its fate 
 had hardly been decided, when another 
 was dispatched, which was lost in the 
 same manner. A fourth more fortunate, 
 reached its destination. This presented 
 to the view of Pierrepoint the letter P. 
 He was embarrassed how to connect that 
 letter with what had previously come to 
 hand. After some pause, it struck him 
 that this was the initial of his own name, 
 and that Harriet, if indeed she could be 
 his unknown correspondent, might by 
 possibility, have sent the first to announce 
 her distress, and the second to prove that 
 she recognised her former deliverer. But 
 then, what was he to think of the twt
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 that had been lost, which were inter 4 ;d 
 to come between, and possibly ta 
 nect what he had received. This again 
 staggered him ; but, faithful to the hypo- 
 thesis which he had adopted, he imagined 
 that Harriet, acting on the feeling which 
 he had supposed to be hers, might, in 
 the first instance, have sent the letter H, 
 which he had received, next his own 
 initial, with the motive before supposed, 
 and then repeated the operation. This 
 seemed to account for the letters which 
 had been lost. 
 
 Another fell almost close to him, while 
 his thoughts were thus engaged, which 
 went to confirm the idea that he had 
 taken up. It was the letter H. The 
 wind began to abate, and he now anx- 
 iously hoped that a very few moments 
 would prove beyond doubt that he was 
 correct in what he had surmised, or 
 destroy the illusion altogether. A new 
 communication was on its way : he was 
 watching its progress with the most in- 
 L 2
 
 CALTMORPE. 
 
 tense curiosity, when he heard his own 
 
 
 
 name pronounced. 
 
 " Mr. Pierrepoint, Mr. Pierrepoint," a 
 servant hastily called out. " Sir James 
 desires to see you this instant. Come 
 Sir." 
 
 Surprised at the unusual impatience 
 manifested by the servant, he was still 
 looking at the object which had before 
 claimed his attention, while he asked, 
 hardly knowing what he said, 
 
 " Is Sir James arrived?" 
 
 " Yes Sir ; iust now and here he 
 
 ' j 
 
 is, coming to look for you." 
 
 He turned round, on receiving this 
 intimation, and perceived Sir James 
 rushing forward, almost as much out of 
 breath as the servant. 
 
 " Pierrepoint 1 my dear Pierrepoint !" 
 said he, ' I have a particular favour to 
 request. But what induces you I 
 mean what has attracted that is, why 
 do I find you here ? and what have you 
 in your hands ?"
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 3*1 
 
 My coming -here was wholly a matter 
 of chance." 
 
 ** Was it merely chance?" enquired 
 Sir James, as if anxious to hear the 
 assurance repeated. "And what have 
 you there ?" 
 
 r? ^* Some letters, curiously worked in 
 straw, that-- 1 found" ' 
 
 " Letters !" exclaimed the Baronet, 
 with a strong expression of surprise, and 
 as Pierrepoint thought, with an air of 
 confusion: " O! is that all," he added 
 in a calm tone j " but what are they 
 how many have you ? let me look." 
 
 Pierrepoint regretted that he had not 
 destroyed them, and reluctantly sur- 
 rendered them to the extended hands of 
 Sir James. 
 
 there 
 
 nothing more ? no connecting vowels?" 
 " No, Sir James ; I have seen but the 
 two letters H. P." 
 
 Poor, dear, benighted being!" Sir 
 James exclaimed, raising his eyes to the 
 
 L 3
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 tower whence the letters had descended, 
 with a look of grief. " You see, my dear Sir, 
 how hopeless the case of my unfortunate 
 relation but her distress makes me al- 
 most forget the occasion on which I sought 
 you. I have just received intelligence 
 that poor Calthorpe is so alarmingly ill, 
 that he is not likely to live through the 
 night. You know how I respected him 
 with all his oddities. 1 hastened to him 
 on the instant, but found him speechless. 
 
 " Indeed," Pierrepoint exclaimed, " is 
 his case so alarming ?" 
 
 " It is. Now, my dear fellow, a horse 
 is saddled ; will you mount it and proceed 
 to Nottingham with all possible ex- 
 pedition. There is a physician of the 
 name of Fitz Osborne in that town, whom 
 you will easily find, and who, if it be in 
 the art of man, or the power of medicine 
 to restore him, will afford the sufferer 
 relief." 
 
 " I'll instantly take my departure." 
 
 " Fly my friend, and let^ all that 
 human means can accomplish, be done
 
 CALTHORPE. 223 
 
 to preserve a life dear to us both, but 
 incalculably so to me." 
 
 " Your benevolence shall not fail 
 through the tardiness of your messenger," 
 Pierrepoint replied, hastening towards 
 the house to proceed on the errand. 
 
 " Stay !" cried Sir James, tell Dr. 
 FitzOsborne that the sufferer is speechless, 
 and to be prepared with every thing that 
 may, by possibility, relieve him in this 
 respect, even though recovery should be 
 hopeless. Now away ; and if you value 
 his life, if you value mine, fly with the 
 swiftness of the wind." 
 
 Pierrepoint was too much interested in 
 the preservation of Calthorpe's life to 
 require such re-iterated admonitions to 
 use all possible dispatch. He was soon 
 mounted on the fleetest horse belonging 
 to the Baronet, and urging the animal to 
 its greatest speed, on the road to Not- 
 tingham. 
 
 Amidst all the hurry and agitation of 
 those moments, Pierrepoint could not 
 L 4
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 prevent his thoughts from recurring to 
 the inmate of the tower. He could not 
 persuade himself that it was the maniac 
 who had communicated with him. Yet, 
 to suppose that Harriet was there, con- 
 fined as such, was to impute to Sir James 
 conduct so monstrous, that it seemed 
 perfectly incredible. The maniac too 
 had been there for years : she had been 
 seen by all the servants, and was 
 known to amuse herself by working in 
 straw. For a moment, then, he would 
 persuade himself that it must be the 
 relative of Sir James, who had thrown 
 out the letters which he had found, 
 without meaning or object. The hu- 
 manity of his employer, he could not 
 venture to call in question. It was 
 proved, by his kind anxiety to aiford 
 relief to his persevering tormentor, Cal- 
 thorpe. Other men would have felt 
 little regret, if they had not even rejoiced 
 when death seemed about to withdraw 
 an individual, who, having the power
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 (however that power was acquired) of 
 extorting money, had used it so mer- 
 cilessly, and with so much insolence as it 
 had been exercised by Calthorpe ; but, 
 on this interesting occasion, Pierrepoint 
 considered that Sir James had proved his 
 heart true to those sensibilities which 
 connect themselves with the purest, 
 noblest ingredients of human existence. 
 This raised the character of his employer 
 higher than it had ever stood before in 
 his estimation ; yet after all, admiring 
 his generosity as he did, and in the 
 midst of his anxiety to prolong, if pos- 
 sible, the life of Calthorpe, on whose 
 existence his own future fate seemed 
 mainly to depend, he could not dismiss 
 from his thoughts the letters so strangely 
 thrown in his way, (as he had for a 
 moment supposed, in conformity with, 
 the request pressed on Harriet,) by the 
 inhabitant of the ruined tower. 
 
 L 5
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 sxd m esW 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 wteemodt ^nigi/mc 9igw oilw 
 
 *' Her beautie (not her own but Nature's pride), 
 
 Should I describe, from every lover's eye 
 All beauties, this original must hide,'/ i)XBv<3l O.J 
 Or, like scorn'd copies be themselves laid by." 
 
 n ttr T*V 
 
 SIR W. DAVENAMT. 
 
 bvoa s f)9DfjJ>oiq it doirfw 9fjaud 
 WHEN Henry Burleigh received the 
 fatal tidings which annihilated the hopes 
 he had been for some time encouraged 
 to indulge, he left the hotel, and wandered 
 through the principal streets, urrzuj aaw 
 He soon found himself near the smok- 
 ing ruins of the building, in which, but 
 for the melancholy event which had .re- 
 duced it to a heap of ashes, he might 
 even at that moment, have been use- 
 fully, honourably, and happily employ- 
 ed. Agaping crowd stood before the 
 spot, observing the efforts of a number ot 
 workmen, who were labouring to accele- 
 rate the fall of part of a wall which
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 threatened danger. Some exulted that 
 the late v wealthy proprietor was in his 
 turn, taught to know distress from 
 experience ; and a set of profligate idlers, 
 who were amusing themselves with frag- 
 ments of the demolished house, appeared 
 to regard what had happened, but as a 
 bonfire of rejoicing; and saw, in the 
 bustle which it produced, a novel ex- 
 hibition, which for them, had all the 
 charms of a general holiday. 
 1)9 ^Disgusted at the insensibility which he 
 witnessed, Henry heaved a deep sigh, and 
 was turning away, when he perceived, 
 at the distance of but a few paces, his 
 late travelling companion and his daugh- 
 ter. Brinkman had for some moments 
 observed Henry, and was struck with his 
 altered deportment and disconsolate air. 
 ;" What!" said he, " do you sigh 
 already? that is wrong. Hereafter 
 you will doubtless have sufficient reason 
 to sigh, and groan too ; but that a stripling 
 of twenty should begin to entertain the 
 L 6
 
 2:28 CALTHORPE. 
 
 woes of life, is almost as ridiculous as if 
 he should call, by anticipation, for the 
 crutches of age." 
 
 Henry felt embarrassed. He endea- 
 voured to smile, and offered to pass on. 
 Brinkman detained him. 
 
 " Step this way," said he, " and allow 
 me a few moments conversation. I de- 
 test that prying impertinence, which 
 leads most men to annoy their fellows, 
 by enquiring into matters with which 
 they have no concern. Having said this, 
 you will perhaps suppose, from the 
 general conduct of mankind, that my 
 next step will be to ask you to recount 
 your history, from the time of your birth 
 to the period of our first meeting. But 
 this 1 have no right no wish to hear. 
 From your manner, I perceive that you 
 have experienced some reverse. It is 
 just possible that we may be of service to 
 each other May I then ask to be in- 
 formed, in general terms, of your present 
 ituation and views? Made acquainted
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 with these, I can judge whether or not 
 what I could propose would be accept- 
 able." 
 
 The sympathising expression which 
 sat on the stern features of Brinkman, 
 and the earnestness of his manner, made 
 a forcible appeal to the feelings of 
 Henry, who ingenuously replied, 
 
 " To a question so cautiously delicate, 
 I can have no objection to answer, that 
 I have indeed experienced a most afflict- 
 ing reverse. My prospect of success 
 depended upon being employed in that 
 concern, whose ruins lie before us, and 
 whose proprietor is now insane. I can- 
 not den^, that in consequence of an event 
 so unexpected, my situation is one of 
 difficulty, reduced as I now am." 
 
 " You have said enough." 
 
 " I have known affluence. The sud- 
 den death of my father* But of that 
 no more." 
 
 " The death of your father !" exclaim- 
 ed Brinkman, and his glance fell .on his
 
 230 CALTHORPE. 
 
 daughter while he spoke a tear trem- 
 bled in his eye, and his whole frame was 
 agitated by the reflections suggested. 
 " For one in your situation I know how 
 to feel," he continued. " What may be 
 the fate of Louisa, when I sink into my 
 grave ! May I ask if you will accom- 
 pany me and my daughter to Berlin?" 
 rif<W. Willingly, if you can hold out to 
 me any prospect of finding occupation 
 when I arrive there ?" 
 
 " Would you like to be employed on 
 a mission to England ?" 
 firf I should." 
 
 " When we know one another better, 
 I may probably so employ you. In the 
 mean time, if you choose to join me, you 
 shall remain at my house as a visitor. 
 I cannot at present hold out any thing 
 more eligible j but if you have firmness 
 and address to execute properly the task, 
 which I may one day request you to take 
 upon yourself, I shall then be enabled to 
 offer you a remuneration, that will fully
 
 CALTHORPE. 231 
 
 compensate for any loss of time that may 
 occur in the first instance. Decide on 
 what I have said, and at once give me 
 your negative, or take your place in the 
 post- waggon, by which we are this very 
 hour to leave Hamburgh." 
 
 The condition of Henry was such, 
 that any arrangement which offered a 
 home, was acceptable. He without 
 hesitation, gave his consent; and the smile 
 which it called forth from the fascinating 
 Louisa, and which she took no pains to 
 conceal, would have consoled him, even 
 if he could have persuaded himself that 
 he was making a sacrifice. 
 
 At the suggestion of Brinkman, Henry 
 waited on the Prussian consul and the 
 Russian commandant in Hamburgh, and 
 procured their signatures to the vouchers 
 with which he had been provided, to 
 show that he was a British subject. This 
 business adjusted, they hastened to de- 
 part. The post- waggon was long and 
 narrow, and of clumsy construction. It
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 had three or four seats slung across ; the 
 top was covered in, and the back was 
 closed up, so that the travellers in case 
 of bad weather, would have experienced 
 but little inconvenience from cold or 
 rain. 
 
 " This shabby moving dungeon," said 
 Brinkman, as he took his place by the 
 side of his daughter, " must appear to 
 you, Sir, a very beggarly conveyance, if 
 you have not travelled on the Continent 
 before. Here however, being covered, 
 the people consider it respectable. I 
 am afraid that to you, our journey will 
 prove tedious ; but our tardy motion will 
 suit my crippled limbs, and infirm state 
 of health." 
 
 " And surely," Henry replied, " that 
 which an invalid can endure, may be 
 borne with cheerfulness by those who 
 are in good health." 
 
 " I hope," said Louisa, " that we shall 
 find the journey pleasant. If we do not, 
 I think it will be our own fault. We 
 14.
 
 CALTHORPE. 233 
 
 ought to be prepared to smile at every 
 thing, and regard any little inconvenience 
 which we may sustain, but as a trifling 
 incident, that will provide us with some- 
 thing to converse about hereafter. When 
 it has passed^ away, even this day will 
 sometimes be remembered with interest." 
 
 Brinkman smiled indulgently at the 
 joy and satisfaction which glowed on 
 the rosy cheek of Louisa ; but it was not 
 a smile of mirth. 
 
 " Happy, thoughtless girl !" he ex- 
 claimed : " Born in sorrow, reared in 
 adversity, ripening in poverty, your 
 heart itself a treasure a kingdom to 
 you supplies from its own resources 
 all that the rest of the world seek in 
 mirth, repose, and wealth. Undepressed 
 by every thing that might have been 
 expected to oppose such buoyancy of 
 spirits, you are happy in spite of ca- 
 lamity, and know how to 'set destiny at 
 defiance. This giddy prattler," he con- 
 tinued, addressing himself to Henry,
 
 234 CALTHORPE. 
 
 " reminds me of the tender crocus, the 
 first of Spring's flowery train, which I 
 have seen flourish in the most inhospi- 
 table soil, beholding with equal won- 
 der and admiration, its delicate corolla 
 burst through the flinty mass which 
 seemed peremptorily to forbid its expan- 
 sion, and shine in unsullied lustre to 
 announce the retreat of Winter." 
 
 " And happy, Sir, thrice happy, the 
 human being, who can thus triumph over 
 the difficulties that would check the 
 exertion of its faculties and wither 
 hope !" 
 
 " Surely, my dear father, I should be 
 very foolish, if I were to cry because you 
 cannot keep a carriage for me, have foot- 
 men to walk before or behind me, and 
 persuade people to call me * My lady.' 
 When at home, my limbs will carry me 
 without fatigue, almost to every place 
 that I have any wish to visit. I require 
 so little assistance, that a train of ser- 
 vants would only be in my way ; and 
 then, for a title, I am so unconscious of
 
 CALTHORPE. 235 
 
 the want of it, that I can hardly under- 
 stand its value. It seems to me only a 
 oiece of finery to be worn on holidays. 
 The possessor of it, I dare say, often 
 throws its dull formality aside when with 
 those she intimately loves ; and I am 
 juite certain that Lady Louisa could not 
 oe more happy than Louisa Brinkman 
 is with you." 
 
 The lively manner of the young lady 
 dispelled much of the gloom which had 
 previously hung on the mind of Henry. 
 It had not the same effect on her father, 
 who as they proceeded was again buried 
 in that abstraction, which had distin- 
 guished him in the packet. In the even- 
 ing they arrived at a post-house decorated 
 with the royal arms of England. This 
 place was called Escheburgh; and from 
 the display of the King's arms, Henry 
 concluded it to be a part of the German 
 possessions of the House of Hanover ; 
 but it was not till the next morning that 
 they crossed the stream, which separates 
 Mecklenburg from Hanover.
 
 236 CALTHORPE. 
 
 .'-' * 
 
 Brinkman for some hours evinced no 
 consciousness that he had companions, 
 and the presence of his lovely and inter- 
 esting daughter was wholly lost upon him. 
 Finding that he wished to be left to him- 
 self, she addressed her conversation to 
 Henry, and spoke with much vivacity of 
 the pleasures which she hoped to enjoy at 
 Berlin and at Leipzig. From her he col- 
 lected that her father was returning to re- 
 side on a small estate which he possess- 
 ed in Saxony, after having lost a very con- 
 siderable property which he had expected 
 to enjoy. This, and the indisposition 
 under which he laboured, accounted to 
 Henry for the melancholy which generally 
 marked his deportment. 
 
 The driver and conductor of the wag- 
 gon stopped at a miserable inn to obtain 
 snaps, as the Germans call spirits j and 
 here Henry and Louisa took refresh- 
 ment ; but Brinkman could not be per- 
 suaded to join them in their repast. 
 When they again moved forward, he took
 
 CALTHORPE. 237 
 
 his place near the conductor or guard. 
 Henry and Louisa occupied the next 
 seat. As the night advanced, a drowsi- 
 ness came over her, which she in vain 
 strove to resist. She often attempted to 
 shake it off, but, a moment after, her eyes 
 closed and recollection fled. The mo- 
 tions of the waggon caused|her to recline 
 her head sometimes on her own bosom, 
 sometimes against the side of the vehicle, 
 and sometimes on the shoulder of her 
 companion. Henry insensibly shifted his 
 situation, so that the interesting burden 
 might repose more secure against any 
 sudden shock from the jolting to which 
 they were incessantly exposed, on the 
 rugged and neglected road which they 
 were travelling. It was a fine night, and 
 the rays of the moon falling full on the 
 placid countenance of the sleeping Louisa, 
 as she sat near the front of the waggon, 
 gave him an opportunity of contemplat- 
 ing at leisure the charms on which he 
 had not dared to fix so stedfast a gaze
 
 238 CALTHORPE. 
 
 during the day. Though the soft, intelli- 
 gent blue eye, the playful glances of 
 which had delighted him before, was 
 now concealed from his view, there was 
 an expression of sweet tranquillity in her 
 face, which harmonised with the hour, 
 and inspired if possible even warmer ad- 
 miration than he had previously known. 
 Henry's arm was passed half round her 
 taper waist, and when the motion of the 
 conveyance in which they were seated 
 threatened to change her position, the 
 gentle tremulous pressure of his hand 
 counteracted the rude impulse. His form 
 had slightly receded, and Louisanow slept 
 on his breast. Feelings new, but inde- 
 scribably delicious, came over him ; and 
 exulting in his situation at that moment, 
 he could not but sigh from the reflection 
 that his felicity must so speedily terminate, 
 while the wish was mentally confessed, 
 that hismightbe thehappybosom on which 
 she could ever repose. The chilly breeze 
 of the morning agitated her flaxen ring -
 
 CALTHORPE. 239 
 
 lets, disposed of them in new situations, 
 and varied the expression of her features, 
 but only to make her, under each change, 
 more truly beautiful. [He was appre- 
 hensive that the cold winds might in- 
 jure his fair companion ; but, fearful of 
 risking the loss of the happiness which 
 he enjoyed, he wanted resolution to re- 
 quest Brinkman to protect her from the 
 possible danger, by veiling her features 
 from his view. 
 
 While feelings like these occupied his 
 mind, day broke. Louisa still slept. 
 Brinkman, though awake all through the 
 night, had not spoken, nor taken any 
 notice of what was passing around him. 
 On a sudden his attention was arrested 
 by the attitude of Louisa, and the fond 
 admiration imprinted on the countenance 
 of Henry. He started from his reverie, 
 threw an impatient glance on his new 
 friend, and snatching his daughter from 
 her seat, placed her by his side, and sup-
 
 240 CALTHORPE. 
 
 ported her himself, as she had been pre- 
 viously supported by Henry. 
 
 Louisa awoke to all her wonted cheer- 
 fulness. She remarked, with playful 
 vivacity, on the uncouth wooden imit- 
 ations of horses' heads, which decorated 
 the Hanoverian hovels on either side of 
 the road. They perceived women with- 
 out shoes or stockings, and without any 
 substitute for them, engaged in perform- 
 ing the labours of the field. One of these 
 stood apart from the rest, and her attire 
 was so singularly ragged, that it moved 
 the pity of the young lady, and she peti- 
 tioned her father to afford the poor 
 creature relief. 
 
 " When we come up to yonder unfor- 
 tunate being, my father will, I hope, give 
 her a trifle. Such abject poverty I never 
 witnessed in my life- Ah, Sir 1 when 
 you complain of our lot, you ought to 
 bear in mind the frightful situation of 
 these unfortunate people." 
 
 " I believe you are right, girl," Brink-
 
 man answered, and his features relaxed 
 into a smile ; " but, alas ! I am not philo- 
 sopher enough to think my own fate 
 tolerable, because I am not quite so 
 miserable as the unhappy wretch to whom 
 you have directed my attention." ?. 
 
 By this time the waggon was near the 
 poor woman. She was working but a 
 short distance from the road, and singing 
 in a tone of careless gaiety. k$ 
 
 " You see," Louisa remarked, " she is 
 not so unhappy as you supposed. Now, Sir, 
 I hope you will promise not to be so undu- 
 tif ullysadiany more, on account of fortune. 
 This poor creature, doomed to hard work, 
 hard fare, and scanty clothing, is light 
 and merry. Shall not we then, who know 
 nothing of the numerous privations to 
 which she must submit every day, laugh 
 at our little embarrassments, and rise 
 superior to what the world calls distress, 
 but which we are not obliged to recognise 
 as such." 
 
 Brinkman's smile almost expanded into 
 
 VOL. II. M
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 a laugh, while he replied, " You do well 
 to take this view of what we have just 
 seen and heard. But do you not perceive 
 that in making me throw money to that 
 merry wretch, you have prevailed on me 
 to commit an act of cruelty ?" 
 
 " Why of cruelty?" 
 
 " Because the running to pick it up 
 interrupted her song: she has not re- 
 sumed it ; and now, instead of that joy 
 which she lately knew, I dare answer for 
 it, she is comparing her situation with that, 
 of those who could afford to throw away 
 what to her appears an important sum, 
 and repines at our happier destiny." 
 
 '' I hope you wrong her, and think that 
 you are now throwingthe hue of your own 
 mind, disturbed as it has lately been, on 
 the ideas which you ascribe to the poor 
 labourer whom we have just passed." 
 
 From the allusions made to Brinkman's 
 private affairs in this conversation, Henry 
 had feared to take any part in it. The 
 former now appealed to him, and with 
 
 i
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 an air of pleasantry, enquired if he 
 agreed with what had just fallen from 
 Louisa. 
 
 " I agree," Henry rejoined, " with the 
 sentiments Miss Brinkman has expressed, 
 (bating the playful reproof which she 
 has bestowed on you ;) but I cannot help 
 feeling, that after falling from a superior 
 situation, to forget what we have lost 
 and rejoice that we are not yet in so 
 humble a situation as we might have 
 filled, though it would be wise, is almost 
 impracticable. These poor people, born 
 to their present condition, see no hard- 
 ship in that to which they have been 
 accustomed from infancy." 
 
 " But if it were really painful," said 
 Louisa, " do you not think they could 
 feel ? The truth is, we fancy pain, and 
 by imagining distress, produce the sad 
 reality." 
 
 " J Tis habit makes us all," Brinkman 
 gravely remarked. " Our ideas de- 
 pend on our early associations ; these 
 M 3
 
 244 CALTHORPE. 
 
 fashion our minds and bodies, our 
 thoughts and actions, to the situations 
 which we fill; and it is when we are 
 thrown out of those situations to which 
 our plastic clay and its inhabiting ideas 
 have conformed, that we feel the sharpest 
 misery." 
 
 " There Sir," Henry said, " I per- 
 fectly concur with you. The African, 
 left to himself, complains not of his 
 pathless wilds and inhospitable climate, 
 though the visiting European finds them 
 the causes of severe suffering, sickness, 
 and death. ? ' 
 
 " And," replied Brinkman, " look at 
 the female sex, and see how they vary 
 from early habit and situation. The 
 delicate ornament of a drawing-room, in 
 St. James's, you would hardly suspect 
 to be of the same species as the rude, 
 toil-enduring basket-women of Covent- 
 garden, or the cultivators of the eartl 
 where we now are. In Wales, I have 
 seen females rowing boats, or rathei
 
 CALTHORPE. 24<5 
 
 barges, against a strong tide ; and I have 
 beheld the same naturally timid beings, 
 which, in some states of society, shrink 
 almost appalled from the gently stirring 
 breath of Heaven ; I have seen women, 
 I say, boldly cross the rapid stream of 
 
 the Euphrates, sitting on a bundle of 
 
 r . & 3 
 
 rushes." 
 
 jf j". And cheerfully perhaps, as well as 
 
 boldly." 
 
 ..." As cheerfully as the poor creature 
 just now disturbed by what I mistook for 
 kindness, was digging the soil." 
 
 The remarks made by Brinkman, called 
 forth from Henry some enquiries re- 
 specting the countries in which he had 
 travelled j and on such subjects Brinkman 
 was more communicative than on any 
 others. He described himself to have 
 been a wanderer all his life, and to have 
 visited most parts of the known world. 
 The conversation was continued till a 
 late hour, when all from fatigue, slept 
 as if by common consent. It was re- 
 M 3
 
 246 CALTHORPE. 
 
 sumed on the following morning, and 
 Henry and Louisa listened with equal 
 delight to the interesting accounts which 
 it was in the power of her parent to 
 supply, of the inhabitants of the various 
 regions which it had been his fate to 
 traverse. 
 
 They had now passed Kletzke, and 
 were within a few miles of Kyritz, when 
 they were met by a party of Cossacks, 
 who came up to the waggon, and inter- 
 rogated the travellers on various points, 
 demanding whence they came, and to 
 what place they proposed to go. They 
 enquired with still greater anxiety, whe- 
 ther they had a supply of snaps with them. 
 Though they had had but little time 
 to study the German language, all were 
 perfectly well acquainted with the term 
 used to ask for spirituous liquors j anc 
 upon receiving an answer, the opposite 
 that which they desired, there was a mani- 
 festation of displeasure, which at first 
 seemed to be incompatible with the
 
 CAL THORPE. 
 
 safety of the travellers. Brinkman, upon 
 this, addressed them in their own tongue, 
 and succeeded in making himself known 
 to the officer who accompanied them. 
 The danger was instantly at an end. 
 
 Proceeding through Wusterhansen and 
 Fehrbellin, through pine woods and sandy 
 plains, heartily weary of the delays to 
 which they were obliged to submit, 
 on the following day, they beheld with 
 great satisfaction the capital of Prussia. 
 At the Hamburgh gate their passports 
 and. vouchers were demanded, and care- 
 fully inspected j and these proving, satis- 
 factory, they soon took leave of the 
 vehicle in which they had been the only 
 passengers ; and Brinkman, who seemed 
 regaining his strength, conducted them 
 on foot from the post-office to a lodging, 
 which he had taken care should be pre- 
 pared for their reception. 
 
 M
 
 248 CALTHORPE. 
 
 ^febul mor' - 'after'?:; 
 
 iir 
 
 CHAP XVI 
 
 orf a ?B 
 
 " Oh Fortune, thou didst threaten misery, 
 And thou hast paid me comfort ! need we aught 
 That we should seek the suffrage of the court ? 
 Are we not rich ? HEYWOOD, 
 
 ort ?rd.t icrfl pmioocpco rir^iesu 
 .H.ENRY found much to admire in Berlin ; 
 
 and the first few days of his residence 
 in that city, were most agreeably filled 
 up in promenading its broad and mag- 
 nificent streets j in visiting its palaces 
 and public buildings, and in viewing the 
 bridges and commerce of the Spree. 
 
 On the Sunday after their arrival, at 
 the request of Brinkman, he accompanied 
 Louisa to the church of St. Nicholas. 
 They were on their return, when a Rus- 
 sian infantry officer, struck with the ap- 
 pearance of Louisa, thought proper to 
 make a display of that gallantry, which 
 some military heroes seem to think quite 
 as essential to form a character, as valour
 
 CALTHORPE. 249 
 
 in the field. From rudely staring with 
 an unmeaning smirk, he proceeded to 
 take his place close by the side of Miss 
 Brinkman as she walked. Henry ob- 
 served it j but unwilling to get into a 
 quarrel, he merely changed places with 
 the young lady, and put himself next 
 to the Russian, expecting that this mani- 
 festation of displeasure would be suffi- 
 cient to induce the officer to give up 
 the pursuit. It however had only the 
 effect of producing a ferocious look, 
 which indicated surprise, that a stripling 
 in plain clothes should dare, under any 
 circumstances, to oppose his will and 
 pleasure, and he forthwith crossed, and 
 again placed himself close to Louisa. 
 Henry upon this, repeated, the evolution 
 he had resorted to before, and with such 
 impatience, that he jostled the officer 
 with violence, who instantly drew his 
 sword. Burleigh, before irritated, now 
 sprang impetuously forward, and seized 
 the soldier with both hands. The latter 
 M 5
 
 250 CALTHORPE. 
 
 was a tall powerful man, and would pro- 
 bably have overpowered his antagonist 
 in a close struggle, had not his foot slip- 
 ped, and procured him a fall, almost suf- 
 ficiently severe to requite his misconduct. 
 Some Russians approached, with a dis- 
 position to espouse the cause of their 
 countryman ; but a crowd of the towns- 
 people came up, and though Henry 
 could but very imperfectly describe what 
 had happened, the appearance of the 
 drawn sword made so strongly against 
 the Russian, that all united to condemn 
 his violence ; and Henry was advised to 
 lodge a formal complaint with his com- 
 mander. But this he declined. The 
 humiliation to which the officer had been 
 subjected, and the reproaches lavished 
 on him for drawing his sword ori 
 an unarmed man, in which his own 
 countrymen joined, seemed a fair punish- 
 ment for his presumption with respect to 
 Louisa j and for the attack on himself
 
 CALTHORPE. 251 
 
 Henry was very sincere in declaring that 
 he felt no resentment. 
 
 Brinkman testified the warmest satis- 
 faction and gratitude, at the manner in 
 which his young friend had repelled the 
 intruder. 
 
 " This, 1 ' said he, " is one of the evils 
 growing out of the present unhappy 
 state of Europe. War, in my opinion, 
 is almost as great a curse, on account of 
 the number of wretched coxcombs of 
 this description, which it brings into ex- 
 istence, as on account of the multitudes 
 it sends out of the world." 
 
 " I hope the evil is not quite so great 
 as you suppose : surely, a man may be 
 brave and polite modest and intrepid." 
 
 " Yes, and the truly brave and intre- 
 pid, are so. But the mob of foolish boys 
 that a long war sends forth, to strut in 
 boots and regimentals, is a nuisance so 
 great, that if I were a sovereign, I would 
 give one half of my kingdom to save the 
 M 6
 
 252 CALTHORPE. 
 
 population of the other half from a ca- 
 lamity so degrading." 
 
 " That Sir, would be paying a high 
 price for peace. 'HaJri^ 
 
 " I do not think so. However, there 
 is no reason to fear that my ideas will 
 ever be acted upon. War is become so 
 mournfully familiar with every nation 
 in Europe, that multitudes think it as 
 necessary as commerce, to employ the 
 population of a state. Why in the arsenal 
 here, the government, to make men's 
 minds familiar with slaughter, have de- 
 corated the key-stones of the windows 
 with representations of the countenances 
 of dying men, in all the varieties of 
 agony." 
 
 t f~r\l ft/lli>'"***"\ 1* 1 TT 
 
 " These onraments," replied Henry, 
 
 . 
 
 " have perhaps been fantastically sup- 
 plied by the taste, or want of taste, of the 
 architect, without any motive. There 
 is hardly any accounting for the varieties 
 of fancy, or the freaks of those connected 
 with the arts. At church to day, in a
 
 CALTHORPE. 253 
 
 solemn representation of the last judg- 
 ment, I was surprised into a smile by 
 perceiving, that the painter had thought 
 it necessary, to heighten the dignity of 
 his subject, by introducing a child riding 
 into heaven on a stick." 
 
 " I have often noticed it," said Brink- 
 man, " and wondered that the same 
 ingenious pencil, had not effected the 
 salvation of the child's other playthings j 
 his marbles and whipping-top, might 
 as well have come in with the stick. 
 You seem pleased with Berlin, and will 
 perhaps be sorry to learn, that I find it 
 necessary to proceed immediately to 
 Leipzig. Thence, if you feel disposed 
 to venture on a new journey, I shall 
 probably have occasion to dispatch you 
 to England. The business on which I 
 want a messenger there, can be entrusted 
 only to one, in whom I place implicit 
 confidence. Though our acquaintance 
 has been short, I feel satisfied that you 
 are precisely the man I want. Till this
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 day, I doubted whether you had the 
 firmness, energy and promptitude, ne- 
 cessary for the execution of the arduous 
 task, which I must find some one to per- 
 form. Now, all apprehension on that 
 score is removed." 
 
 Henry felt his curiosity excited by 
 what had just fallen from the father of 
 Louisa. He was impatient to prove that 
 he deserved the confidence about to be 
 reposed in him, and begged to ask the 
 nature of the mission on which he was 
 to be sent. 
 
 " There are circumstances connected 
 with it of a melancholy of an awful 
 nature." Brinkman uttered these words 
 with unusual solemnity. He paused for 
 a moment, and then proceeded : " Before 
 J say more, have I your promise, that 
 you will observe the most inviolable 
 secresy ?'* 
 
 Henry was about to answer in the af- 
 firmative, when Louisa entered, and he 
 was silent.
 
 CALTHORPE. 255 
 
 Brinkman immediately changed the 
 conversation, and seeming to reply to 
 words that had not been spoken, said, 
 
 " Well, 1 am glad that you are par- 
 tial to travelling. Louisa, we must be 
 ready early in the morning." 
 
 In the course of the day, though more 
 than once alone with Henry, Brinkman 
 did not recur to that which he was about 
 to communicate when their conversation 
 was interrupted. On the following day 
 they left Berlin. No incident of import- 
 ance occurred on the road. Brinkman 
 was as reserved as ever ; but Henry was 
 consoled for his abstraction by the charm- 
 ing gaiety of Louisa, which afforded him 
 pleasure such as he had never experienced 
 before. 
 
 A little cottage, charmingly situated in 
 the environs of Leipzig, received the tra- 
 vellers. The ancient paintings, the re- 
 mains of splendid furniture repaired with 
 cheap materials, and associated with 
 articles of the humblest, poorest descrip-
 
 256 CALTHORPE. 
 
 tion, and the family arms, which appeared 
 on one of the walls, and which survived 
 on some few pieces of plate, that re- 
 mained in use, while the greater part of 
 Brinkman's stock had no such embellish- 
 ment ; all gave Henry an idea of his 
 friend's decayed fortunes, that power- 
 fully reminded him of his own. 
 
 But returned to this lowly retreat, and 
 returned with her father, Louisa was 
 happy. Those objects which excite the 
 ambition, and disturb the repose of the 
 multitude, she had learned to regard 
 with perfect indifference ; and her only 
 grief was, that the recollection of his 
 losses caused her father to cherish regrets 
 on her account, which she was incapable 
 of indulging for herself. 
 
 But in her happiness there was one 
 ingredient, which she herself knew not 
 how to name. It was an emotion, supe- 
 rior to all she had known before, and it 
 consoled her for every thing, or at least, 
 it made her forget, what under other
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 circumstances, would have marred her 
 felicity, and proved the fruitful source of 
 sorrow. Her father preferred solitude, 
 to the society in which he had most de- 
 lighted before, and for weeks together 
 he would be visible but for a few hours in 
 the course of the morning: the remainder 
 of the day, if not called abroad by business, 
 he would consume in his own apartment, 
 to which he admitted no one. This once 
 would have been for Louisa, a severe 
 affliction ; but in the society of Henry, it 
 was not often that it disturbed her re- 
 pose. He, with the permission of her 
 father, frequently accompanied her to 
 the Kohlgarten, and the various pleasant 
 scenes which are found near the inner 
 city walls ; and music, reading, and con- 
 versation, filled up their afternoon, in a 
 manner to them so interesting, that they 
 complained of no lack of entertainment. 
 It was only when one was absent, that 
 the other felt uneasy, and at a loss how 
 to accelerate the march of time. Bv the
 
 258 CALTHORFE. 
 
 secluded life which was the choice of 
 Brinkman, they found themselves alone 
 in Leipzig j and the result it requires no 
 great stretch of mind to guess, was, that 
 they soon became all the world to each 
 other. 
 
 Since they left Berlin, nothing had 
 been said on the subject of the projected 
 mission. Henry had written to his mo- 
 ther, and to Pierrepoint, that he expected 
 shortly to return to England. At first 
 he had felt eager to set off ; but his impa- 
 tience had sustained great diminution ; 
 at first he had been reluctant to press 
 the subject on Brinkman, lest it should 
 betray an unseemly anxiety to return on 
 his own account ; now he abstained 
 from mentioning it, because he wanted 
 courage to propose that, which must 
 separate him from Louisa. To her 
 he made no secret of his feelings in this 
 respect, and she did not conceal from 
 him her wish, that his departure might 
 be long deferred.
 
 CALTHORPE. 259 
 
 " But yet," said he, " it must take 
 place ; and better, perhaps, for my peace 
 of mind, that it should not be postponed- 
 When I see you no more, I shall never 
 be able to banish you from my mind. O 
 that it were my happy, happy lot, to re- 
 main with you for ever." 
 
 " I fear your patience would be ex- 
 hausted before many years were passed. 
 Such a madcap as I am, would disturb 
 your melancholy." 
 
 " No ; your gaiety would dispel it. 
 In fact it could not survive for a moment 
 in the bosom of the man, who had the 
 happiness to call you his. But I am not 
 naturally melancholy " 
 
 " Indeed ! Well, till this moment, 
 I did not suspect you of affectation j but 
 now I must conclude, that it is volunta- 
 rily assumed." 
 
 " Not so, Louisa." 
 
 " Then, flatterer, you are caught! 
 What becomes of my power to dispel 
 melancholy, if you, exposed to it, as you
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 - - 
 
 have been, for many weeks, are really 
 so sad as you generally appear. Though 
 you often smile, it is not the smile 
 of mirth, but of benevolence, that 
 plays on your cheek ; and a tear, even 
 when I have been most solicitous to pro- 
 voke you to gaiety, has generally ap- 
 peared peeping from your eye, and only 
 waiting till I turned my head, to burst 
 forth." 
 
 " I cannot deny it ; and though I ex- 
 pect that you will tax me with inconsist- 
 ency, when I state the truth ; of that 
 tear you were in part the cause." 
 
 ' Worse and worse. O you Goth ! 
 Why, now, from being a flatterer, you be- 
 come ruder than those Cossacks of whom 
 we hear so much. But go on this is 
 your riddle : I give it up. Now for 
 the solution. How am I the cause of 
 
 ,,j IlJ & -fli DiLGIi 
 
 your tears? 
 
 " Because I cannot gaze on you 
 without feeling the deepest sorrow, from 
 the reflection that past calamities doom
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 me for ever to admire you at an humble 
 distance, and repress every hope in which 
 I might otherwise have presumed to in- 
 dulge." 
 
 " How can you be so barbarous ! See 
 * 
 
 what a situation you place me in ! I can- 
 not say a civil thing to you without 
 exposing myself to the reproach of being 
 a very forward girl. However, I must 
 say, I do not see what past calamities 
 have to do with the matter." 
 
 " From them results my present lowly 
 condition." 
 
 "And what," said Louisa, " is there 
 in your present condition that should 
 repress hope, (believe me, I speak not, 
 think not of myself now,) that should, in 
 any case repress hope, or discourage 
 ambition ?" 
 
 " Lovely comforter!" exclaimed Henry, 
 pressing her hand in a transport of gra- 
 titude. 
 
 At this moment Brinkman enteredfrom 
 a door behind, which opened without
 
 262 CALTHORPE. 
 
 noise, and he was wholly unperceived. 
 He started at seeing his daughter's hand 
 clasped, with an appearance of passion, 
 ate love by a man ; and he with diffi- 
 culty repressed his rage sufficiently to 
 listen while Henry proceeded. 
 
 " But you know not all. What if 
 besides being poor, I were the heir of 
 disgrace what, if I were to tell you, 
 that imputed crime attached to the me- 
 mory of my father ; and that vengeance 
 and ignominy pursued him, even beyond 
 the limits of existence." 
 
 Louisa sighed. " Why then, I should 
 say, if unrevoked the stern decree of 
 Heaven, that the sins of the fathers shall 
 be visited on the children, enough for 
 mortals the victims of to-day; and having 
 punished the offender against human 
 laws, it is not for man to pursue the off- 
 spring of the sufferer, and add his mite 
 to the awful volume of Almighty wrath." 
 " Dearer, lovelier than ever !" cried 
 Henry, pressing her hand with fervour
 
 CALTHORPE. 263 
 
 to his lips. It was violently withdrawn, 
 and the tall form of Brinkman now in* 
 terposed between them. His eyes rested 
 sternly on Louisa, and then glanced 
 angrily at Henry. Surprised and abashed, 
 he attempted no explanation; and for 
 some moments, the indignant father 
 continued to gaze on them in silence* 
 
 " Is it well," he at length said, " that 
 I find you thus that in my absence you 
 should give yourselves up to idle and fan- 
 tastic dreams of love? Is it well, that my 
 presence should thus overwhelm you with 
 guilty confusion ?" 
 
 Henry started at the last words, and 
 replied with energy, " Sir, you have 
 witnessed no guilty confusion. If you 
 had heard our previous conversation, you 
 would know that the spontaneous but 
 innocent freedom, I have used for the 
 first time with your daughter, was but 
 the sudden boundings of gratitude, re- 
 sponding to the language of exalted pity." 
 
 Brinkman paused. The indignation
 
 264 CALTHORPE. 
 
 which had flashed from his eyes, was no 
 more ; a tear fell on his rugged cheek ; 
 the whole expression of his countenance 
 changed from fierce resentment to in- 
 dulgent kindness ; and in a tremulous 
 voice he proceeded to reply, in language 
 very different from that which Henry 
 had expected to hear, 
 
 " The stamp of truth is on your words. 
 I remember enough to be satisfied that 
 my first impression was wrong. My 
 tempest-tossed heart at length reposes. 
 I see you love my daughter. The sen- 
 timent which I have heard her express, 
 is mine, and the feelings and prejudices 
 of the rest of mankind are to me as no- 
 thing. She shall be yours, and your 
 courage and address will gain for her a 
 part of what 1 have lost, and in some 
 measure, atone for my - my -- errors. 
 I now unite you for ever ; and oh ! vain 
 thought! if a prayer of mine could find 
 acceptance at the throne of grace, the 
 measure of your happiness would be com-
 
 CALTHORPE. 265 
 
 plete, and I but I can say no more. 
 God bless you." 
 
 While speaking, he joined their hands. 
 A sob, that seemed bursting from a 
 broken heart, convulsed him, and he 
 staggered out of the room. 
 
 
 VOL. n.
 
 266 CALTHOKPE* 
 
 <>d ~Aosw /, 
 
 rrs's'i bw{ rjttuf &b 
 -uitui 9iii 'llosmnl 
 
 pTTAT) VXrTT 
 
 UrlAr. AV11. 
 
 T^ 8iii m 
 
 " Deck not for me a wreath so gay, 
 
 Nor picture phantoms to my view, 
 That fly in sportive spite away, 
 And smile to see a wretch pursue." 
 
 GRATTAV, 
 , 
 
 1 HE sudden manner in which the hope 
 Henry had hardly dared to cherish, had 
 been encouraged and almost realised in a 
 moment, was like a dream ; and he knew 
 not whether surprise or gratitude predo- 
 minated in his bosom. The vivacity of 
 Louisa was not proof against such a vicis- 
 situde: though unshaken by the former 
 reverses of fortune, it yielded to the near 
 view of happiness, and some days elapsed 
 before her usual flow of spirits returned. 
 But Brinkman, satisfied with what he 
 bad done, was more at ease than he
 
 CALTIIORPE. 
 
 had been at any period, since Henry had 
 known him. A week had passed after 
 the latter had been authorised to consider 
 himself the future husband of Louisa, 
 when he was summoned to attend her fa- 
 ther in his study. 
 
 " The time is now come," said Brink- 
 man " when I think it desirable that you 
 should proceed to undertake the delicate 
 task, which I long since announced it to 
 be my wish that you should perform. 
 It is no common mission on which you 
 have to proceed, and where you are to 
 present yourself, with the papers which 
 I am about to confide to you, I can ven- 
 ture to predict that you will witness a 
 scene not easily to be forgotten. If you 
 acquit yourself as I feel assured that 
 you will, there may be some hope of 
 happiness for you and Louisa. But in 
 the first place, you will have to reduce 
 a proud wretch, who little dreams on 
 what a frightful precipice he stands, 
 to beggary. 
 
 N 2
 
 268 CALTHORPE. 
 
 " Indeed ! I hope, Sir, that may be 
 avoided. It cannot be necessary to 
 Louisa's hanpiness or mine. My industry 
 will, I doubt not, preserve us from want j 
 and luxury, and splendour will rot be 
 required to render our felicity complete." 
 
 " Fond boy ! you are dreaming of 
 bliss and beauty, and see but little be- 
 yond the present moment. Louisa is 
 handsome, you admire her, and believe 
 that when she is yours, happiness must 
 follow as a matter of course. Ah ! 
 young man, has your present existence 
 been so blissful, that you can fearlessly 
 venture to encumber yourself with ano- 
 ther ? I have perhaps been too precipi- 
 tate in encouraging your passion. But 
 it is not yet too late for reflection. Look, 
 
 and consider well what you do, before 
 
 * 
 
 you finally decide." 
 
 " The determination come to, on my 
 part, I am sure needs no revision." 
 
 " You speak the language of ena-
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 moured youth. Again I say, look well 
 to what you do, while yet your steps 
 may be retraced. I gran" you that 
 Louisa is fair, her figure elegant, her 
 countenance full of expressive harmony 
 and love. Her face, her form, her play- 
 fulness, and lastly her health, the un- 
 doubted offspring of cheerfulness and 
 innocence, present an image of beauty 
 and purity, ori which a seraph's eye 
 might love to dwell. But these charms 
 which now captivate your heart, may 
 fade almost in a moment. Long before 
 old age shall approach, sickness may dis- 
 miss those roses from her cheeks ; care 
 and sorrow may banish those exhilarating 
 smiles, on which you fondly calculate ; 
 and those eyes, which now pour forth 
 their mild radiance in a rich flood of 
 unfailing splendour, bereft of all their 
 brightness, may feebly glimmer in their 
 darkening orbits, the dull and heavy ap- 
 pendages of premature decay." 
 
 " Undoubtedly Louisa is mortal. Dis- 
 N 3
 
 270 CALTHORPE. 
 
 ease and sorrow may assail her ; but what 
 created being is exempt from the same 
 danger ?" 
 
 " I would only guard you against tak- 
 ing upon yourself a permanent charge, 
 from your eagerness to possess a transient, 
 perishing flower. Look on this, pic- 
 ture." 
 
 With these words, Brinkman produced 
 from his bosom, the portrait on which 
 Henry had seen him gaze, on their pas- 
 sage from Harwich to Heligoland. 
 Henry looked again on the well-known 
 features of his mother, and exclaimed, in 
 a tone scarcely audible ? 
 
 " What 1 what of this ! " 
 
 " Behold a faint resemblance of as 
 perfect an image of human beauty, as 
 ever graced the orb on which we tread, 
 since the spirit of God first moved on. the 
 face of the waters. Gaze on it with 
 uie ; but while I gaze, my fevered brain 
 bounds through the melancholy inter- 
 vening years, and contemplates with burn-
 
 CALTHORPE. Qfl 
 
 ing anguish the scenes of other days, when 
 this bright straggler from a better world 
 seemed born for me, and born to consum- 
 mate a gay and glorious destiny. I see 
 her, not as the fair lifeless toy we hold, 
 but smiling with all the native ease of 
 unconscious beauty ; glowing with chast- 
 ened hope, yet modestly receding from 
 the advances to which she was ever ex- 
 posed ; gay, soft and bright, as the bud- 
 ding blossom of spring, while greeted 
 by the early morning sun, it tremblingly 
 .shrinks from the approaching zephyr. 
 
 " She was indeed most fair." 
 
 " Fair ! 'tis sacrilege to say it. She 
 was celestial ! but oh, what fiend gave 
 me to look upon her, and look upon her 
 with hope, only to see her snatched away 
 by a wretch, I will not say a vil- 
 lain " 
 
 " How!" interrupted Henry. " Of 
 whom do you speak ?" 
 
 " Bear with me if incoherent ; I lose 
 myself when I think of her. I have no 
 N 4-
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 command of my tongue ; but, like a 
 wretch I once saw on the wheel in his 
 second day of torture, who asked me for 
 water, which I was not allowed to supply, 
 I could in one moment of delirious agony, 
 run through all the varieties of blas- 
 phemy and prayer." 
 
 " But of whom did you speak ?" 
 " No matter. I wander from my 
 object. This being, such as I have de- 
 scribed her, or rather such as no man 
 shall ever describe, was, in person as in 
 mind, all that you can imagine of per- 
 fection. But in a very few years, though 
 apparently happy, I saw her reduced by 
 sickness to an emaciated spectre of her- 
 self. Now all that I would say, ( for- 
 give my wandering as I did,) is this 
 suffer not your hopes and your destiny, 
 to rest on the evanescent bliss which ex- 
 ternal charms may promise ; seek to 
 ally yourself with no one whose mind, 
 whose heart, is not the superior object of 
 attraction."
 
 CALTHORPE. 27-3 
 
 With these words Brinkman replaced 
 the miniature. 
 
 " I feel," said Henry, " the force of 
 what you say, and know that Mrs. Bur- 
 leigh was such as you " 
 
 " Ha ! did you know her ?" cried 
 Brinkman ; and a stare of wild constern- 
 ation accompanied his words. 
 
 " Well. And her husband also " 
 
 " Mention him not ! He was the 
 wretch who but let me not pursue him 
 in the grave." 
 
 " He was a man of whom the world 
 might be proud. His eloquence was " 
 
 " Brilliant as the glare of a volcano ; 
 but blasting as its desolating lava !" 
 
 " His eloquence," Henry warmly an- 
 swered " in itself sublime, was rendered 
 transcendantly so, by its never bein t j> m 
 wittingly exerted but in the cause of 
 justice. His heart was the sacred home 
 of every human virtue." 
 
 " You speak from vague report. Such 
 N 5
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 indeed, was the belief of the mad mis- 
 taken world." 
 
 " And such he was. From the evi- 
 dence of my own senses I speak ; from 
 having known him, and enjoyed his be- 
 loved society from my earliest infancy till 
 his lamented death." 
 
 " What then was Burleigh to you ?" 
 
 " He was my father." 
 
 " God of Justice !" exclaimed Brink- 
 man, retiring with terrific emotion as he 
 spoke. " Can it be possible !" 
 
 He sunk into a chair, reclined his 
 head, covered his eyes, and spoke 
 not for some minutes. He at length 
 revived. 
 
 " I would not war against filial piety 
 like yours. No ; God forbid. But your 
 father destroyed all my hopes. I had 
 recently returned from France, when I 
 aspired to your mother's hand. I flat- 
 tered myself with visions of success, 
 when a base and groundless report was 
 raised, that I had acted an atrocious part
 
 CALTHORPE. QJ5 
 
 in the French revolution. Its horrors 
 had just then commenced. My suit was 
 in consequence rejected, and Arabella 
 became the wife of your father. To him 
 that report undoubtedly owed its rise." 
 
 " You knew him not. Of such con- 
 duct he was utterly incapable. At a time 
 when he little thought that I could ever 
 mention it to you, he, (alluding I doubt 
 not to this circumstance,) most solemnly 
 declared to me, that you had without 
 cause suspected him of having injured 
 you. Till this moment, it never occurred 
 to me that you had at any time been the 
 subject of our conversation ; but now 
 from your name, which, as it is not a 
 very uncommon one, either here, or in 
 England, did not before challenge par- 
 ticular attention, I conclude that you 
 were the defendant in a cause which he 
 conducted, but a short period before his 
 death." 
 
 " Your conjecture," said Brinkman, 
 " is not erroneous. I was the defendant 
 N 6
 
 276 CALTHORPE. 
 
 in the case you allude to; and there again 
 liis malice burst forth in a flood of elo- 
 quence, which, as he had before blasted 
 ray prospect of bliss, now gave to the 
 winds my last chance of comfort." 
 
 " Till the verdict was returned, he 
 believed that you had long since been 
 dead, and suspected not that you were 
 the person whose interest had formerly 
 been opposed to his. Then sincerely 
 pitying you, he would himself, have 
 hastened to offer you assistance, but that 
 he knew it would not be accepted. He, 
 however, caused enquiries to be made 
 respecting your abode, and attempted 
 to supply relief in such a way, that it 
 should not appear to come from him. 
 Did you receive no communication about 
 that time from an unknown hand ?" 
 
 " What new surprise would you pre- 
 pare ? You have turned my thoughts to 
 a terrible moment. O yes ! I remember 
 I was sitting in my apartment, ruminating 
 on the decision which made me a beggar. 
 4
 
 CALTIIOUPE. 277 
 
 I felt myself fast hastening to the tomb, 
 and the image of my child of my 
 Louisa, seemed to stand before me, such 
 as I believed she must soon be, alone in 
 the midst of a merciless and persecuting 
 world. It was midnight ; a storm raged 
 without, and the winds were alternately 
 heard, now hoarse and loud as the thun- 
 der of heaven, now soft and sad as the 
 sigh of a dying infant." 
 
 " Were you alone ?" 
 
 " I was alone ; and while the tempest 
 of the night seemed but faintly to image 
 the storm that agitated my lonely and 
 disconsolate heart, I exclaimed aloud, 
 It is not that my limbs become feeble, 
 it is not that my eyes grow dim, and 
 that general debility invades my frame 
 it is not that my future days must be 
 passed in hopeless poverty, that I com- 
 plain ; but it is for thee, lovely one ! on 
 whom I have inflicted life, that my tears 
 flow, that the unutterable pangs I now 
 feel arise.'"
 
 Q78 CALTHORPE. 
 
 While I thus spoke, my door opened. 
 The servant had knocked ; but receiving 
 no answer, had ventured to come in. 
 She gave me a letter which had just 
 been left, with strict injunctions that it 
 should be delivered immediately. I 
 opened it, and found it contained three 
 notes for one hundred pounds each, 
 which were accompanied by a scrap of 
 paper, on which were written these words : 
 * From one whom you have unintention- 
 ally wronged, but who sympathises with 
 you in your present distress. 1 J 
 
 " Did you preserve that paper ?" 
 
 " Most carefully. It Is here, with 
 others that I always bear about my 
 person ?" 
 
 Brinkman produced the paper. Henry 
 looked at it, and immediately said, 
 
 " This is not my father's writing ; but 
 I recognise the hand of one who was 
 then in his employ." 
 
 " Look again. Are you certain ?" 
 
 I am."
 
 CALTHORPE. 279 
 
 Brinkman turned away his face to con- 
 ceal his emotion, and groaned deeply. 
 
 " I knew," Henry went on, " that he 
 had endeavoured to afford you relief." 
 
 " Would to God he had withheld it !" 
 
 " Did it not come at a seasonable mo- 
 ment?" 
 
 " I thought it did. The perishing suf- 
 ferers of Israel's race welcomed not the 
 heaven-descended manna, with warmer 
 transports of mingled wonder, joy, and 
 gratitude." 
 
 " Why then regret that it came ?" 
 
 " Because, instead of being the good 
 it seemed, it proved my ruin. Ruin, did 
 I say ? it proved my annihilation my 
 everlasting perdition !" 
 
 " I do not understand " 
 
 " It is not fit you should. No more. 
 Leave me now. The business I talked 
 of before is no longer of consequence. 
 I have nothing to communicate to you., 
 that is, at present. Leave me leave 
 me to myself." 
 
 Henry obeyed the request in silence.
 
 280 CALTHORPE. 
 
 ' 
 
 'fffffj O* Jtfct} 
 Hi' ^OOJ Off 910*1 
 
 of ei/ft&ife' fev? sH 
 CHAP. XVIII. 
 
 i i rote akfM^'K kfr moni 
 
 We then -- 
 
 Despoiled straight his breast, and all we might, 
 Wiped in vain with napkins next at hand, 
 The sudden streams ofblood, that flushed fast 
 Out of the gaping wound. O, what a look 1 
 Oh what a ruthful, stedfast eye, methought, 
 He fixed upon my face." 
 
 NORTON mid SACKVILLE. 
 
 AT this period, all Europe waited in 
 awful suspense, the result of that tremen- 
 dous contest, which was to decide the 
 fate of Germany. Every one talked of 
 the impending battle ; and Leipsig, rilled 
 in every part with French soldiers, was 
 further encumbered by the captives they 
 had made in some recent skirmishes, and 
 by the suttlers and vagabonds of every 
 description, that invariably follow or ac- 
 company the movements of a large army. 
 The residence of Brinkman, though
 
 CALTHORPE. 281 
 
 without the walls of the city, Henry be- 
 gan to think, would not be safe ; and be- 
 fore he took his departure for England, 
 he was anxious to prevail on the father 
 of Louisa to remove to a greater distance 
 from the probable scene of action, if his 
 affairs would not admit of immediately 
 retiring from Saxony altogether. 
 
 He was prevented from speaking on 
 this subject, by what occurred in the 
 scene last described. When he left Brink- 
 man, he walked out alone, recalling what 
 he had heard and seen, and attempting, 
 but in vain, to fathom the meaning 
 of some of the expressions which had as- 
 tonished him. Brinkman, however strange 
 his conduct, had, in the intervals between 
 those fits of abstraction to which he was 
 subject, been most kind and attentive j 
 and Henry could not witness his distress 
 but with feelings of acute sorrow. Yet 
 his manner and some of his words seemed 
 to indicate a guilty consciousness, that 
 inspired sensations of awe, and associated
 
 282 CALTHORPE. 
 
 fearful suspicion with that respect and 
 gratitude to which he conceived him to be 
 entitled. 
 
 It was evening, and Henry thought- 
 fully directed his steps towards the church 
 of St. John, which had been some months 
 before converted into an hospital. The 
 burial-ground had become a prison, in 
 which Prussian and Austrian captives were 
 confined. To shelter themselves from tUa 
 heavy rains which frequently fell at this 
 period, they had recourse to the miser- 
 able expedient of disturbing the remains 
 of the dead, and ejecting the coffins, with 
 their contents, from the vaults in which 
 they were supposed to have found a last 
 resting-place. An altercation at this mo- 
 ment attracted the attention of Bur- 
 leigh j and some words pronounced in the 
 English language made him soon under- 
 stand, that among the prisoners a few of 
 his countrymen were to be found. There 
 were several stragglers from the Rocket-
 
 CALTHORPE. 283 
 
 corps, that were now at variance with 
 some of their fellow-sufferers who had 
 attempted to invade a tomb which the 
 British had been the first to open. An 
 Englishman, who was most active on this 
 occasion, observed that it was very un- 
 gentlemanly conduct, for one officer to 
 attempt to force himself into another's 
 grave. 
 
 -.'A Prussian undertook to prove that 
 the vault was sufficiently capacious to ac- 
 commodate them all comfortably. 
 
 This the Englishman denied ; and ob- 
 serving that every Englishman's house 
 was his castle, which he had a right to 
 defend against every one, expressed him- 
 self determined to act on this principle 
 by those who should attempt to enter his 
 tomb. 
 
 " And so will I, dead or alive," cried 
 a young Irish ensign ; " but, to make 
 every thing pleasant, suppose we contrive 
 to get up a bit of a duel or two. That, you 
 know, will make plenty of room for the
 
 284- CALTHORPE. 
 
 survivors, and the dead men can have no 
 occasion for a grave." 
 
 From this mixture of the dismal and 
 the ludicrous, Henry turned with impa- 
 tience, and the depredations which he 
 saw committed in the public streets, on 
 the property of the citizens of Leipsig 
 by the soldiers of Bonaparte, made him 
 feel that there was no time to lose in 
 pressing Brinkman to remove with Louisa 
 from the scene of operations. He de- 
 termined to urge this strongly and imme- 
 diately, and to endeavour to prevail on 
 the former to leave him at Leipzig, to 
 manage any affairs that might otherwise 
 detain him and his daughter in the midst 
 of danger. 
 
 In the meantime Biinkman had joined 
 Louisa. She saw that he was sad, and 
 that more than usual care appeared to 
 cloud his brow. She endeavoured to 
 rally him into spirits, but in vain, and 
 as a last effort, had recourse to her harp 
 and sought to enliven him by singing the 
 following song.
 
 CALTHORPE. 285 
 
 : r, 
 
 THE SHADOW. 
 
 I saw the black shadow pursuing my track, 
 
 " Advance ye or swiftly, or slow," 
 He angrily seemed to say, " Close at your back 
 
 I'll follow, wherever you go." 
 Flight proved unavailing. To face him, at last 
 
 I turned, in a petulant whim ; 
 Then shrinking from me, he retreated as fast 
 
 As ever I bounded from him. 
 
 " Ah, now" exclaimed Mirth, "henceforth governed by me, 
 
 Dismiss weak regret and despair, 
 And banish vain terrors ; for do you not see 
 
 That impudent shadow is Care ? 
 Delighting irresolute mortals to chase, 
 
 Retreat, he comes daringly on ; 
 But meet him with laughter, it alters the case, 
 
 The coward is glad to be gone." 
 
 As the song ceased, an unusual sound 
 was heard. It was repeated ; and they 
 soon found that it was caused by the 
 application of an axe to the door of 
 their dwelling, which happened to be 
 wanted to contribute to the fire of a party 
 that bivouacked at a short distance. It 
 was presently demolished, and with its 
 frame carried off, without any regard to
 
 286 CALTHORP2. 
 
 the remonstrances of Brinkman. More 
 wood was required, and the marauders 
 entered the cottage, seized on the chairs, 
 and these not being sufficient, they next 
 laid hands on the harp. This had been 
 long in the family, and had soothed its 
 present owner in many a melancholy hour. 
 He could not see it thus borne away 
 without feeling more than common sor- 
 row; but resistance was useless. As it was 
 lifted from the ground, one of its chords 
 was accidentally touched. It sent forth 
 a sad and solemn sound, a sound so 
 mournfully appropriate, that, to the fever- 
 ish imagination of Brinkman, it almost 
 seemed to become a living being, and to 
 implore protection, or reproach him for 
 his supineness. He could bear no more, 
 but rushing forward, attempted to ar- 
 rest the robbers in their course. The 
 effort was vain, and he received on the 
 instant a wound in the right breast. He 
 sunk bleeding to the earth, and the de- 
 predators retired with their booty, which
 
 CALTHORPE. 287 
 
 was forthwith added to the rest of the 
 fuel collected for their fires. 
 
 The blow was so suddenly inflicted, 
 that Louisa, though her eyes were fixed 
 on the actors of this scene, had no idea 
 of the injury her father sustained. On 
 seeing him fall, she sprung to his assist- 
 ance. She perceived the blood bursting 
 from his wound, and, overwhelmed with 
 agony and alarm, was sinking to the 
 ground when Henry entered, and re- 
 ceived her in his arms. 
 
 " My father, my father !" she faintly 
 exclaimed, and the sound of her own 
 voice, when pronouncing that name, 
 seemed to restore her failing senses. 
 " Not me," she cried ; " heed not me, 
 but assist my father ;" and with these 
 words she disengaged herself, and de- 
 clined all further aid. 
 
 Henry was not slow to discover, that 
 the situation of Brinkman, was such that 
 prompt assistance was necessary. He 
 forthwith dispatched the only domestic
 
 CALTHORPE, 
 
 which had been retained, to endeavour, 
 amidst the general confusion, to procure 
 the assistance of a surgeon. He then 
 conveyed the wounded man up stairs. On 
 entering Brinkman's apartment he per- 
 ceived a person in the attire of a soldier, 
 in the act of lifting the bed towards the 
 window, with the intention of throwing 
 it out. Henry was before incensed at 
 the brutal outrage committed in his ab- 
 sence ; but his rage knew no bounds, 
 when he saw that the work of depreda- 
 tion was still going on. Suffering Brink- 
 man to fall on the clothes, which were 
 strewed about the floor, he snatched the 
 bed from the plunderer, and seizing him 
 by the shoulders, precipitated him head- 
 long into the street, by the way which 
 he had intended that the bed should de- 
 scend. The attack was so sudden, that 
 the fellow had no time to attempt resist- 
 ance in the room ; and a stone whicli 
 encountered his forehead, when he reach-
 
 CALTHORPE. 289 
 
 ed the ground, took from him, for that 
 time, all thoughts of resentment. 
 
 Henry reflected with pain, that the 
 step he had taken from the impulse of 
 the moment, might possibly be attended 
 with the most fatal consequences. He 
 feared that the comrades of the recently 
 expelled ruffian might return to revenge 
 his fate, by firing the house or destroying 
 its inhabitants. 
 
 But the act was not to be recalled ; 
 and he had little leisure to dwell upon 
 its probable effects. He applied himself 
 to restore the apartment to something 
 like its former state ; having done this, 
 he lifted the wounded man from the 
 floor, placed him still bleeding on the 
 bed, and then pressed a handkerchief 
 against his breast to stop the blood. 
 
 Brinkman revived, and looked mourn- 
 fully round the apartment. His eyes 
 were then fixed for some moments on 
 Henry j but he spoke not. He made a 
 feeble effort to dismiss the tears which 
 
 VOL. ii. o
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 dimmed his sight; and after a further 
 pause, he broke silence by enquiring, 
 " Are we quite alone ?" 
 
 "Yes, Sir. Louisa retired r into an- 
 
 i ' / t 
 other room, while I was employed in 
 
 putting you to bed." 
 
 " 'Tis well. I feel that I am near my 
 end : I have but few moments to exist, 
 and those I wish to devote to you.'* 
 
 ' Do not exert yourself so much in 
 your weak state.*' 
 
 " It can be of no importance. I be- 
 lieve the wound is mortal. My blood 
 flows fast; my hours I should rather 
 say my minutes, are numbered." 
 
 " Not so. I trust with timely assist- 
 ance, you may yet recover." 
 
 " Do not flatter me. I grow fainter. 
 I fear that I am nearer death than I sup- 
 posed; but ere I breathe my last, I 
 would wish to unfold what it much im- 
 ports you to know." 
 
 He paused from weakness. Henry, 
 however anxious to hear what he was
 
 CALTHORPE. 291 
 
 disposed to communicate, could not 
 help suggesting that it would be bet- 
 ter to defer what he had to say till the 
 morning. 
 
 " No, no," Brinkman replied ; " to- 
 morrow I shall be an inanimate heap of 
 clay. Let me employ the little life I 
 have, in making known what I have seen. 
 Before the last throb arrives, I would 
 fain gasp a confession of my guilt." 
 
 " Of guilt ! Henry exclaimed, start- 
 ing with surprise and horror. 
 
 " Of guilt. Destiny has strangely 
 thrown us together. When I first met 
 you it was my object to send you to 
 England. The task I proposed to as- 
 sign to you but I have not strength 
 to go into details. Let me hasten to the" 
 most important point at once. Your 
 father your respected father " 
 
 His voice here sunk j and from emo- 
 tion as well as from loss of blood, he was 
 unable to proceed for some time. He 
 at length went on
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 " Your father is supposed to have laid 
 violent hands on himself, and " 
 
 " Proceed sir O, proceed !" 
 
 " The sentence pronounced by the law 
 against those who commit suicide, has 
 been carried into effect against him and 
 against his family. He was no suicide." 
 
 How t" 
 
 J..LUW . 
 
 " He was murdered." 
 
 Henry shrunkfrom thaappalling sound 
 with a shuddering sensation not to be 
 described. He had before suspected, 
 but was notwithstanding unprepared for 
 this -frightful confirmation. Brinkman, 
 overpowered by the effort which he had 
 made, lay silent and almost lifeless for se- 
 veral minutes. 
 
 " He was murdered," he repeated. 
 
 " And the assassin?" Henry wildly en- 
 quired, and feared to add another word, 
 lest the time consumed by uttering it 
 should occupy the last moment in which 
 
 Brinkman could reply. 
 

 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 S{ 1 was there," he added ; and the 
 words that followed were inarticulate. 
 
 " Name the assassin." 
 
 " I I " Brinkman replied, and at- 
 tempted to say more, but death seemed at 
 that moment impatient for its victim, 
 who sunk back on his pillow in a state of 
 insensibility. As the last response was 
 given, the surgeon appeared. Henry 
 could restrain himself no longer, but 
 rushed from the chamber. 
 
 " My dear father ! how is my dear, 
 kind, unhappy father ?" cried Louisa, ar- 
 resting his steps as he passed rapidly 
 across the adjoining room. 
 
 " Your father !" exclaimed Burleigh ; 
 The monster is hastening to that But 
 what am I saving. It is not into that 
 ear that I should pour such sounds." 
 
 " Nor into any other. O ! Mr. Henry, 
 what means this altered deportment ? Is 
 he dead ?" 
 
 "I know not. But his victim is," 
 he added, bursting into tears, as the re-
 
 CALTHORPE. 
 
 -mo 
 
 collection of his father's fate came over 
 
 his mind. " Farewell, Louisa ! -I must 
 
 IfJTV/K Dm ;v 
 
 see you no more. ' 
 
 J , 
 
 ^>oj 4< What ! can you leave us now !" 
 ,4}*' Angelic being ! Why is it decreed ! 
 Why must I must J But the horri- 
 ble crime was none of thine. O no ! had 
 but thy image been present to his mind, 
 that angel face had turned the dag- 
 ger's point aside my father still had 
 lived I had not been the destitute 
 
 exile I am, nor thou " 
 
 T to essnayoio 
 
 " What ! what ! for Heaven's sake 
 what !" 
 
 " The daughter of a murderer !" 
 The words thus extorted from the 
 agonised Henry, fell sadly on the startled 
 senses of the trembling, delicate being 
 before him. She heaved no sigh she 
 uttered -no exclamation of pain, of sur- 
 prise, of incredulity, or of horror. But 
 the fatal sounds seemed to destroy, in the 
 moment they reached her j and thought, 
 sensation, and life itself receded before
 
 CALTHORPE. 295 
 
 them. The tender, fond, and accom- 
 plished daughter of Brinkman, sunk be- 
 fore the awful intimation which it was 
 her affliction to receive from the lips of 
 her lover. Annihilated by that voice 
 which had till then been her music, with- 
 out a groan she fell prostrate at the feet 
 of Henry, before, in the horrible confu- 
 sion of that moment, he was conscious of 
 the effect of what he had said; and her 
 peaceful spirit was to all appearance re* 
 moved for ever from all anxiety, from 
 all consciousness of danger, and all sense 
 of pain. 
 
 <*r 
 
 ' a 
 
 mo-ft bo,froto emit ,afno 
 
 ti no ^Ibaa M ,; { ia3H foaim.. 
 
 END OF THE SECOND VOLUMK. 
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