"Before leaving India, I determined, if possible, to obtain an interview with my mother. I had never met her husband, though I had eagerly sought an opportunity to revenge upon him the death of my father.

"My mother, I found, had been dead several months, and her husband had been appointed to command a division in Spain. I was terribly disappointed that I could not shoot this man, who had been the best and kindest of husbands to the woman he had led astray from the path of duty, and was reported as almost inconsolable for her loss.

"When I returned to England, great changes had taken place. My grandfather was dead. My cousin Sir Thomas was likewise dead, and the present Earl, who had been for some years a widower, had come in for the t.i.tle, and all the immense private fortune belonging to his grandfather.

"Of course, Francis and I felt ourselves very much aggrieved, that we were not mentioned in his will, and my brother who had been living a life of reckless extravagance, and hoping to pay off his debts with his share of the spoil, was terribly disappointed.

"My aunt, Lady Dorothy, for whom I had always felt the deepest regard, invited me to spend the time I remained in England, at her beautiful residence in Devonshire. It was here that I first met her charming cousin, Miss Julia Curzon, with whom I fell in love at first sight.

"Don't be jealous, little one, more episodes of this kind occur in the lives of men than women, and the first love, though remembered the longest, is not always the wisest or the best.

"I did love this fair accomplished girl with all the energy of youthful pa.s.sion, and my love was not only returned, but accepted, and I looked forward to our union, as the consummation of my earthly happiness. I did not then suspect that she loved the world better than she did me, and was more afraid of incurring its censure than of rendering me miserable for life.

"Several months glided away in that earthly paradise, and in constant companionship with the woman I adored, I considered myself the happiest of men. I saw no clouds in my smiling horizon, and never antic.i.p.ated a storm. The dark days came at length, that shrouded the sunbeams of hope in gloom and obscurity.

"The summer had set in with intense heat, and much sickness prevailed in the neighbourhood. A slight cold I had taken was succeeded by typhus fever of the most malignant type. When the nature of my malady was made known to the household, all the leading members becoming alarmed for their own safety, left the house, and fled to the sea-side. Julia deserted me without venturing to bid me farewell. Even my brother, who was on a visit with Lady Dorothy, abandoned me, as all supposed, on my death-bed, to the care of hirelings, who were indifferent about me, and more anxious that I should die than live, as in the former case, it would remove from them the sense of danger and responsibility.

"Oh, Dorothy, selfish and worldly as I had been, unguided by the holy precepts of religion, I hardly think that I could have deserted any one so near and dear to me as a betrothed wife and an only brother in such sore extremity. I was anxious to keep Julia and Francis out of danger, but their selfish conduct went home to my heart. I thought about it continually, and raved about their cruelty during the hours when fever and delirium were in the ascendant.

"One friend, however, remained constant to me in the hour of need, never deserting his post by my bed-side, a most tender and self-const.i.tuted nurse. He was the son of a small yeoman, who for the sake of good wages, with which he helped to maintain his widowed mother and her family, had undertaken the care of my horses, of which I possessed several splendid animals, being a keen sportsman.

"Charles Harley had formed a strong attachment to me, though I often laughed at him for his pious propensities. The young fellow, however, was so conscientious in the discharge of his duty, that he had won my respect, and, for his humble opportunities, was a man of superior endowments, possessing a fine intellect and strong good sense. In my rational mood he took great delight in reading the Scriptures to me. The monotony of his voice wearied me. I was so much indebted to him for his kind attention to me in my helpless state, that I did not like to wound his feelings by telling him to desist, that I wanted faith to believe in his dogmas, but I considered them a great bore, often pursuing my own train of thought without listening to him.

"The first night that the fever took a favourable turn, and my burning eyelids at last closed to sleep, I had an awful dream, or inspiration, I will call it, to rouse me from a state of careless indifference to the future, and set before me the urgent necessity of self-examination and repentance.

"I thought I was travelling with a gay and joyous set of companions, fellows to whom I was well-known, through a beautiful and highly cultivated country. My father and brother and my affianced bride formed part of the pleasure-seeking crowd. Some were on horseback, some on foot, and some in splendid carriages, but all intent on one object, and evidently bound to the same place.

"As I journeyed onward, somewhat behind the rest, there gradually rose before me in the east, the walls of a magnificent city, sloping back from the banks of a wide deep stream, in the depths of whose clear pellucid waters, towers and spires and majestic trees were reflected in golden splendour, the very sight of which created in me an intense desire, and impelled me forward to reach the height on which it stood.

"While feasting my eyes upon the novel spectacle, so different from anything I had ever before seen, a sudden halt took place in the foremost ranks of our jovial company, when noisy shouts and acclamations were changed into groans and shrieks and melancholy wailings.

"I hurried forward to ascertain the cause of the delay, and learn the reason of such frantic lamentations.

"It was then that I first discovered that, between us and the shining river that flowed beneath the walls of the golden city, extended a fearful gulf, of unknown depth, and shrouded in utter darkness, which completely intersected the country, precluding the possibility of any advance in that direction.

"From the yawning jaws of this frightful abyss, a lurid mist continually floated up, hiding the celestial city from my view. Into this hideous chasm, as if driven by an irresistible impulse or dire necessity, the crowd, so lately full of noisy merriment, slowly and surely disappeared.

Some made desperate efforts to escape, and clung to the rocks and bushes, and called upon their comrades to save them from destruction; others plunged sullenly into the awful gulf, with stoical indifference to their fate, without asking a.s.sistance from their companions in misery, or uttering one prayer for mercy.

"I watched them one after another disappear, till my mind was overwhelmed with horror--till my hair stiffened on my head, and my limbs were paralyzed with fear.

"I could not utter a sound, or make an effort to escape from a doom which appeared inevitable. But my soul sent up a cry through that dense darkness, which reached, though unspoken, to the throne of the great Judge--'Save me, Lord, for I perish!'

"A flash of vivid lightning dispelled for a moment the black horrors of the scene, and revealed to me a cross towering above the dreadful abyss, and planted upon a rock, and one bound thereon like unto the Son of Man, pale, bleeding, and dewed with the death-agony, and written above his head, in characters of light, which revealed all the ghastly horrors of that dismal scene, I read these words: 'Look unto me and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth.'

"That light pierced my soul like a two-edged sword, and pointed out the only way by which I could escape. I sprang forward. I toiled on hands and knees up the steep acclivity, and sank down gasping at the foot of the cross, embracing it with desperate energy in my arms.

"I awoke bedewed with a cold perspiration, and trembling in every limb.

"'Thank G.o.d, it is but a dream!' I cried, as I felt the clasp of Harley's hand, who had heard me scream in my sleep, and had hurried to my a.s.sistance. But such a dream--oh, such a frightful dream! So terrible--so real--it looked like truth.

"He gave me a composing draught, and, after a while, begged me to tell him what had frightened me so much in my sleep.

"I was ashamed to tell him my dream, for fear he should think me a coward for quailing before a mere vision of the night. But it haunted me continually. Waking or sleeping it was ever present to my mind. I still imagined myself standing upon the brink of that dreadful precipice--still heard the cries of my lost companions ringing in my ears, as the cloud received them in its sable folds, and the yawning gulf swallowed them up for ever.

"I no longer turned a deaf ear to Harley's prayers, or listened with indifference while he read to me the Word of Life. My heart responded to every pet.i.tion, and I listened with intense interest to his simple exposition of pa.s.sages of Holy Writ. My heart was now opened to conviction, and hungered and thirsted for a knowledge of divine truth with desperate eagerness. A horrible consciousness of guilt pressed so heavily upon my mind that it is a wonder my brain did not yield to the mental pressure.

"After a long struggle with pride, I revealed to Harley the state of my mind, and with many tears besought his advice and a.s.sistance. With what joy he embraced me, and mingled his tears with mine, and a.s.sured me that I was in the right path, that no man without repentance could ever hope to see G.o.d. That my dream was a solemn warning sent by Him, to show me the danger of delay, and called upon me to abandon my wicked courses, and lay down the burthen of my sins at the foot of the cross. He besought me, in the most eloquent language, not to neglect the heavenly vision, lest I should share the fate of those I had seen in my dream.

"I was still too weak to leave my bed or read for myself, and I fear I taxed the poor fellow's strength too much, in making him read to me for hours at a time. And then I prayed.

"Oh, Dorothy, have you ever experienced the mingled joy and agony of earnest, heartfelt prayer. When shocked at the cold indifference of your own heart, you have bowed your head in the dust as one bereft of all hope; when a sudden gleam of light has shot into your soul, revealing glimpses of heaven, and filling your mind with contentment and holy peace. Such a happy moment came for me at last, which repaid me a thousand fold for all my past sufferings, and the image of Christ was formed in my soul the hope of glory. I awoke to a new life--awoke to rejoice in Him for evermore, and cheerfully took up the cross to follow Him, and suffer--if called upon to do so--gladly for His sake.

"The first trial that awaited me after my recovery was the death of my dear friend, Harley, who took the fever from which a merciful G.o.d had suffered me to escape. I nursed him with the same devotion he had shown to me, and it was in my arms he pa.s.sed from earth to heaven.

"If anything had been wanting to confirm my faith, and strengthen the resolution I had formed, of devoting myself to the Master's service, Harley's death-bed would have done it. His faith in Jesus was so perfect, his victory over the last enemy so triumphant, that it left no room for cavil or doubt.

"When my friends heard of my intention of leaving the army, and studying for the church, they p.r.o.nounced me mad; and it was publicly reported through the country that I had lost my senses during the fever. My conversion was a standing joke among my gay companions, and my brother was never tired of quizzing me about it, and making it the subject of ribald jests. This was hard enough to bear; but when Julia Curzon whom I loved so truly, joined with the rest in ridiculing my absurd fanaticism, as she was pleased to call it, and declared that if I persisted in such folly she never would become my wife, I was sorely tempted to step back into the old path, and resign for her sake my new-born hopes of heaven. Fortunately for me I was saved from such wickedness by the young lady herself, who ran off with a rich country squire, with whom she had been flirting desperately at the sea-side during my illness.

"This ended my romance of life. I felt heartily ashamed of myself for having loved such a worldly-minded woman. My love for her was sincere, but I had no other basis to support it than mere beauty, and a certain amount of fashionable accomplishments. My castle was built upon the sands, and the foundations yielded readily to the first shock, and when it fell, though humbled and mortified, I regained my freedom. After this disappointment, I returned to college to redeem the time I had wasted there in the days of my reckless youth, and to study diligently for my profession. It was more than two years before I was satisfied with the sincerity of my belief, and my fitness for so sacred a calling, when I gladly accepted from Lord Wilton the parishes of Hadstone and s...o...b.. as Vicar under him.

"And now, little wife, you are acquainted with the leading points of my history, and nothing more remains to be told, so let us up and be walking home-wards, or we shall be too late for the school examination this evening."

Kissing the small hand that insinuated itself into his own, he lifted her from her lowly seat, and they returned to the parsonage in time for tea.

CHAPTER VIII.

MR. FITZMORRIS READS A TEMPERANCE LECTURE.

Mr. Fitzmorris lost no time in writing to Lord Wilton, and informing him of his engagement with Dorothy Chance, not because he considered that the Earl had any power to influence her choice, but as a matter of courtesy, he having proved himself a kind friend to the orphan girl.

That she was his daughter, he had little doubt. If a legitimate child, such a worldly-minded man, as he knew the Earl to have been in his younger days, would never have consented to see her the wife of Gilbert Rushmere, a man so much beneath him, in birth and education. The idea was preposterous, and fully convinced him that she was the offspring of some unfortunate connection, in which the Earl had suffered loss of honour, and perhaps a woman whom he had pa.s.sionately loved.

Henry Martin represented him as a conscience stricken and unhappy man, who seemed anxious to make atonement for the evil acts of his past life, by deeds of benevolence and kindness.

"He has stumbled upon that great stumbling stone," said the good curate, "in thinking it possible to obtain the forgiveness of sins through acts of charity and self-sacrifice. If this could be done, there was no need of an atonement, and the cross would never have groaned beneath the weight of the Son of G.o.d."

Whatever was the nature of the tie that bound Dorothy to the Earl, it was involved in mystery, which Gerard Fitzmorris cared very little to solve. His love for Dorothy was so pure and disinterested, that had he found her begging along the highway, and been convinced of the n.o.ble qualities of heart and mind with which she was endowed, he would have thanked G.o.d, with all the fervour of his large heart, for giving him such a wife.

He made no allusion in his letter to these matters, but merely stated, that the admiration he felt for Dorothy Chance, and her unaffected piety, had kindled in his heart a sincere and ardent attachment, which had overcome the prejudices of education and caste, and induced him to make her his wife. That having lost her foster-mother, she had no place which she could properly call her home, or any legal protector to silence the shafts of calumny, that were already a.s.sailing her character in all directions. That he was happy in having secured the affections of the woman he loved, and he was certain that his n.o.ble kinsman as a friend to both parties, would rejoice in this happy union.

And Dorothy wrote to her absent friend all that was in her heart.

"Hadstone Parsonage.