Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 349: what you’re looking at

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336 JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. answered impressively. ‘ Prepare yourself to hear | and herself was complete. Idescended the stairs - 3 good tidings—your fortunes are turning ‘Oh, speak !—what mean you?” she cried, her suspense now becoming painfully feverish. “Come with me—hasten and put on your bon- net and shawl—I am going to conduct you tu a place where you will see some one that same gentleman who sent you the money a month ago PP “Who is he?” she inquired. *T am in his service,” was my answer. “ He is a very old man Prepare yourself for a re- velation ¥ “Ts it—is it—my uncle?” she gasped forth, trembling visibly from head to foot. “Tt is!’ I rejoined. “Sir Matthew Heseltine is a resident in this town. He will receive you with open arms—he will grant you his forgive- ness !”’ The poor creature sank down upon a chair; and if I had not hastened to give her a glass of water, I believe that she would have fainted. The tears streamed forth from her eyes: she was over- come by the weight of happiness itself. “O Joseph, what do we not owe you!” she murmured, pressing both my hands in her own. “From the very first moment I ever saw you, you have been so good—so generous—so kind! Good heaven! if I were a woman untainted with wickedness, I would proffer you such love as a sister might bear towards a very dear brother!” “T shall see you happy yet,” I responded, deeply affected. ‘“ But come—come quickly—and in a few minutes you will be in your uncle’s arms —-and all shall be forgiven!” Mrs. Foley hastened up to her own chamber, and quickly re-appeared with her bonnet and shaw]. She was trembling with suspense; and as we proceeded through the streets, I said’ all I could to reassure and encourage her. I gave her, too, a hasty sketch of how it had been brought about that her identity with Sir Matthew’s niece came to my knowledge. When she reached the door of the house, she quivered so that she leant against the wall for support: but I implored her to summon all her fortitude to her aid. I had provided myself with a latch-key previously to issuing forth: I opened the door, and gave her admittance. Then I opened the parlour-door; and Sir Matthew, starting up from his seat, cried, “What the deuce, Joseph how dare you hey-day! what is the meaning of this ?” His niece had thrown herself at his feet,— murmuring amidst convulsive sobs, “ Pardon me, uncle—pardon me !” ‘Joseph, you young rascal,” cried the Baronet, 6c iy | ee y= *) “Your niece, sir, is at your feet,” I exclaimed ——and then hurried from the room, closing the door behind me. Procuring a light, I ascended to my own chamber ; and I was melted to tears by the very luxury of my feelings. I felt that heaven had rendered me the instrument of a good action ; and I rejoiced unfeignedly. An hour passed; and at the expiration of that time, I heard the front door open and close gently. I made sure that it was the Baronet’s niece who had gone forth; and I was equally sure, from the length of the inter- view, that the reconciliation between her uncle and was proceeding to the kitchen, when the Baronet called forth, bidding me enter the room. The next instant I stood in his presence. That he had been deeply affected, was visible in his looks: but yet that sort of cynical pride which had become habitual to him, still prompted him to conceal as much as possible the real state of his feelings. “So you have done it,’ he said; “and you have acted in contravention of my strict orders? Very well, young man—you will take the conse- quences—that’s all I have got to say. But I sha’n’t tell you in this house how I mean to punish you. Of course I shall discharge you: but not till your month is up. Don’t irritate me more than you have done, by going and blabbing in the kitchen. And look you, sir—pack up all your things, and mine too, in readiness for a journey. We set off early to-morrow morning. Good night to you, you young scamp !” With these words, he abruptly seized my hand —for a moment pressing it in his own. : “ By heaven, 1am making a fool of myself!” he screeched forth. “Don’t run away with the idea that I meant to do it. You are—you are—a —self-willed youpg rascal; and by Jove Vil—Tll write to Mr. Rowland to-morrow. There!—go along with you—and good night.” For a moment he patted me on the shoulder— and then pushed me out of the room. CHAPTER LXIl HESELTINE HALL THE reader has seen that Sir Matthew Heseltine entertained not the remotest suspicion of the identity of his own niece being concealed under the pseudonym of Mrs. Foley, until the truth was so suddenly made apparent to myself and pro- claimed by me to his knowledge, Yet all along the old Baronet had entertained a certain degree. of sympathy towards the afflicted wife, whose romantic attachment and unswerving devotion to her guilty husband had been the talk of the town of Reading. The reader has seen, too, how Sir Matthew endeavoured to conceal that sympathy beneath an air of cynicism, which though real, or at least habitual, to a very great extent, was nevertheless not so complete as to choke up all the avenues of his heart and render them inaccessible to an occasional good and kindly feeling. That sympathy which had been more or less excited in his mind on behalf of Mrs. Foley, was no doubt fostered by the frequent allusions which I had made to her condition, as well as by the example of the feeling which I myself entertained towards the unfortunate creature. Yet though this sym- pathy had all along a certain existence in the Baronet’s heart, it did not appear ever to have risen into a presentiment, nor to have been asso- ciated with any mysterious inward promptings to the effect that the highwayman’s wife was in reality his own niece. The intelligence had come upon him as abruptly and: as unexpectedly as I have described it to the reader ;—and therefore, striking him as it were a sudden blow, and giving Connicloookks (CO