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Penny Dreadfuls, 1856 · page 144 of 399

Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 144: what you’re looking at

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Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 144: Penny Dreadfuls, 1856

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ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS. was first mentioned to him at Paisley. The incli- nation had seized upon him to accompany Henry : it had been growing stronger and stronger within him, until at length it developed itself sufficiently to be fathomed by me, I remember that it was on the third day after our return to London, and on an occasion when I happened to be alone with my father, I said to him, “‘ You have something upon your mind; and I think—at least I fear I can surmise what it is.” * Ab, Ellen !” he said, with an abrupt start : but instantaneously becoming calm and collected again, he added, “ But why should you fear ?— because if you do indeed divine what is passing in my thoughts, you might perhaps be rather inclined to look favourably upon the project: for should I not be a friend and protector for him whom you love so well ?” “ Ah, then I am right!” I ejaculated ; “ and you do really dream, my dear father y But without being able to finish the sentence, I burst into tears. ‘Weep not, dear Ellen—weep not!” said my sire, affectionately embracing me. “ The period is at hand when great sacrifices of feeling must be made by each and all of us; and believe me, it will prove for the best! ‘You have abandoned your magnificent fortune—and you are about to return to the stage. Henry is on the point of setting out for a far-off Jand in quest of a fortune to supply the one you have so nobly ceded; he is very young to go alone—it is far different from a mere commercial visit to New York———In a word, dearest Ellen, [ haye made up my mind to ac- company him!” * * Oh! my dear father !”’—for I could not bid him go, and yet on the other hand I dared not bid him remain and thereby deprive Henry of his companionship. . “ Ellen,” continued my father, in a lower and still more serious tone, “ I owe everything to you. You have raised me up from the mire and dirt, to place me in a position of comfort: you have rescued me from peril—you have done everything but the single act which you could not perform— and this is to redeem my name from infamy! But in every other sense you have been my saviour and my good angel. In our case the usual cir- cumstances of the world are reversed; and in- stead of the daughter owing everything to the father, it is the father who owes everything to the daughter.” “Oh, speak not thus!’ I said. “ Wherefore use this language ?” “ Listen, and I will tell you, Ellen,” resumed my father ;—“and I am all the more anxious to give you certain explanations, because while they develop my own views, they are also calculated to infuse hope and comfort into your soul. In the first place, dear Ellen, I have the firm convic- tion that Henry is pursuing no phantom, but that he is on the track of a substantial reality. Yes— I am certain that the little American peninsula bearing the name of California, wiil prove a veri- _ table El] Dorado—not of romance, but of history ! Well then, Ellen, Henry will become rich— and I also may enrich myself; and sweet will it be for me to possess the means of lavishing those boun- ties and charities that may go far to make a com- plete atonement for the past! But these ideas, a — 131 Ellen, are puny iv their selfishness, and miserably insignificant in juxtaposition with the other motives which are now inspiring me. For have I not told you, and do I not feel, that I owe you everything P—the bread I eat, the garments I wear, the personal safety I enjoy, the experience of the sweet happiness of knowing that there are yet beings in this world who care for me! Well then, Ellen, how illimitable is the debt of gratitude which I thus owe you !” “ Knough, dear father !” I exclaimed ; “ how can & parent veritably owe anything to his child? I have but fulfilled a duty ? The case is not as you put it, Ellen,” inter. rupted my father, ‘You can owe me no duty, for I never performed mine towards you; and as I never showed you any kindness, you owe me no debt of gratitude. On the other hand, I owe you everything !—and all the more so because a parent has no right to expect aught at the hands of his children. It is he who should give to them, and not they who should give unto him. Well, Ellen! do not interrupt me, my dear girl you see that I feel the immensity of the obligation which I owe you; and now an opportunity pre« sents itself for me to prove that I am not ungraie-= ful, but that I am only too ready and anxious to do a service unto my daughter. Listen, Ellen! He whom you love so well—your future husband— is about to visit a far-off land, in search of trea: sures which are not to be won without encounter- ing toil and peril, difficulty and danger. Iwill go to watch over him. I will follow in his footsteps, Ellen !—I will be ever vigilant to warn him of the approach of danger—and I swear to you that if it present itself, I will throw myself in front of Henry so as to shield him from harm! When he lies down to slumber, I will remain like a wakeful sentinel at his post to watch over and protect him. I will succour him in all his undertakings : I will be his servant—his slave, if needful a faithful friend and adyiser—not merely a relative, but a father! Ina word, my darling daughter, I shall hold myself bound, if heaven spares my life, to bring back Henry safe in due time to England, saying to you, “Hilen, I never left him! By night and by day did I keep my promise: I watched over him for your sake !’—And this is the principal reason for which I have resolved to ac- company Henry to California.” I threw myself into my father’s arms, thanking him most sincerely for the kind feelings which he was thus demonstrating towards Henry and my- self. I assuredly thought it hard to lose my parent and my lover at the same time: but not for a moment did I outwardly repine—not a syllable did I utter that could have the slightest effect of deterring my father from his purpose. No!—it seemed to me as if he would prove a safe- guard to my Henry, and that there were now a thousand additional guarantees for the success and security of him who was dearer to me than life itself. My father’s project was speedily commu- nicated to Henry, who assented to it with joy when he found that I had already given my con- currence. The reader will remember that I had presented to my father the entire sum of three thousand pounds which Mrs, Oldcastle had left me about a year back. With this amount he had purchased Gboo cS (E)