University of Virginia Library

27. CHAP. XXVII.
AN OLD MAN'S TALE.

“I AM several years younger than was your father,
and was placed by an old uncle with a wealthy
merchant, with whom he promised to establish me when
I had served my clerkship with honour.

“My master had an only child; she was not what is
usually called a beauty, but she was in my eyes more.
Her features were regular; the gentleness of her spirit
threw a softness over her countenance, which at once prepossessed
every beholder in her favour. Added to the meek
forgiving spirit of a Christian, she possessed all the intripid
fortitude and courage of a Roman matron. The innocence
of her heart inspired her with unaffected cheerfulness,
and a most engaging vivacity was tempered with a
modest simplicity.

Such was Rosa Benson, when at the age of eighteen
she was sent for from France, where she had been educated,
to take the care of her father's house, her mother having

been taken suddenly off by an appoplexy. I was
just two years older, and could not behold unmoved, the
innumerable charms that were daily displayed by this engaging
girl. She performed on the harpsichord with great
taste and execution, had a soft melodious voice, and sung
with judgment. Her mind had been carefully cultivated,
which rendered her a well informed rational companion.

Mr. Benson generally spent his evenings abroad, and
I frequently past many hours in uninterrupted conversation
with the charming Rosa.

I will not pretend to delineate the various imperceptible
degrees by which our hearts became attached to each
other: Suffice it to say, we selt the power of love mingled
with the purest friendship; nor did we once reflect
on the imprudence of indulging our sensibility till awakened
from our dream of bliss by Mr. Benson informing
his daughter, that her hand was solicited by an Earl,
and that he had given him leave to address her; at the
same time he gave her to understand, he did not expect
any opposition to his will, and slattered himself he should
soon behold her a Countess.

When Miss Benson informed me of this unexpected
stroke, I selt as though annihilated: I threw myself at
her feet, and entreated her not to make me the most
wretched of human beings by accepting my noble rival.
She assured me she had too high a sense of honour to
give her hand to one man, while her heart was entirely
devoted to another, but still I was unhappy; nor did I
cease soliciting the dear girl till she consented to be mine
by the strongest of all ties, and by a private marriage I
secured to myself, as I then thought, the most permanent
felicity.

Still the Earl continued his affiduities: but Rosa
found means to evade her father's earnest wishes, and a
more wealthy woman falling in his lordship's way, who
had no objection to making the exchange of money for a
title, she was for that time delivered from farther importunity.

About six months after our marriage, it became necessary
for Mr. Benson to send a person to the West-Indies,

with powers to settle some business with the merchants
there: It was a lucrative employment. He mentioned
to my uncle that I might, if I chose, undertake
the voyage. My uncle acquiesced. There was no alternative,
and I was under the necessity of leaving my
wife, whom I could by no means persuade to accquaint
her father with our marriage previous to my departure.

During my absence I was much surprized at receiving
no letters from my dear Rosa; but as I was sensible there
might be various causes for this apparent neglect, it only
served to render me more attentive to my business, as I
knew the sooner it was finished, the sooner I should return
to the wife of my choice, the freid of my bosom.
At length it was completed, and I returned to my native
land, after being absent from it about thirteen months.

Eagerly did I count the minutes whilst travelling
from Deal to London; and when the chaise stopped
at Mr. Benson's door, my heart throbbed with such violence
that I could hardly speak. I alighted, and ran
hastily up stairs; but was much surprised, on entering
the drawing-room, to see a strange Lady there, young
handsome, and elegantly dressed. Mr. Benson mention
ed her as his wife.

“And where is Miss Rosa?” said I.

“She is not at home,” replied Mr. Benson, coolly;
“but, come Littleton take your tea, and then we will
go into the counting house, and talk over business.”

Conscious as I was of the near interest I took in every
thing that concerned Rosa, I forbore to mention her
again, left the agitation of my mind should be betrayed
by my countenance; I took my tea in silence, and then
descended with my master to the counting-house, where,
in as concise a manner as possible, I gave him an account
of the business I had been sent upon, and delivered to
him all the bills and other papers I had brought with
me from Jamacia; this employed us till near one o'clock
in the morning, and, satigued as I was, I could not but
be surprised that my hitherto indulgent master should
have no thought of the long voyage and journey I had
just arrived from, and that I certainly required rest.

When we had entirely finisshed, he thus addressed me:

“I promised you, Littleton, that this should be a lucrative
business to you, there (opening his pocket
book;) there are bills to the amount of two hundred
pounds; and now, Sir, let me tell you, that you are a
knave and a villain, a designing, deceitful, scoundrel,
who, under the mask of honor and probity, have robbed
me of my daughter, stolen her affections, and encouraged
her in disobedience. It is to your arts I owe her
refusal of the Earl of—, and had she not been your
wise, she would at this moment, have been a Dutchess.”

I had sat as one petrified during this speech; but on
his again calling me by the opprobious names already
mentioned, I roused myself, and endeavoured to answer;
but his passion, like a torrent, bore down all before it,
and I was obliged to be silent. At length he told me
he had disclaimed his daughter, that he had sent her
from his house, and would never give her a single farthing,
no not even to keep her from starving.

“But go,” continued he, “go to her, and may you
both, with your brat, starve together.”

The mention of a child operated on my nerves like a
stroke of electricity. “And where are they, Sir?”
said I, starting from my seat, “where are my Rosa and
her insant?”

“Somewhere in the country,” said he; “but I don't
concern myself with them, nor do I ever wish to see you
or her again. You have disappointed me in my dearest
hopes and I will seek consolation in the company of an
amiable woman, who may, perhaps, yet bring me children
more dutiful than the ungrateful viper you have
married.”

He then flung out of the room, and I too much irritated
to remain in a house where I had been so ill treated,
was preparing to leave it, when the door opened,
and one of the house maids entered, looking carefully
round her.

“I am glad you are come, Sir,” said she; “my poor
young Lady will rejoice to see you.”

“Where is she, Betty?” said I.

“At Windsor,” replied the girl, “at my sister's;
but she has never been well since master was born.”

I took a direction from the girl, and set off immediately,
as I could procure a chaise.

It was between five and six when I arrived at Windfor,
and having ordered some breakfast, though I had
no inclination to eat, I sent for the woman with whom
my love lodged, and finding her a discreet sensible person,
intrusted her with a letter to be dilivered cautiously,
to the dear creature, who I found was in a very
alarming state.

In about two hours I was summoned to the cottage
that contained all my treasure; but, good heaven! how
shall I describe my sensation at the sight of my wife,
scarcely the shadow of her former self—pale—thin—her
eyes sunk heavy—and devoid of luster!”

“George,” said she, putting her dear boy into my
arms, “you are come home in time to receive this
pledge of my love, and to close my eyes; but I shall die
content, sensible that you will be a kind father to my
child.”

I endeavourd to cheer her, and inspire her with hopes
which I could not rationally indulge myself. I procured
the best medical advice, but all in vain; she grew worse
and worse, and expired in less than a fortnight after
my arrival in England.

Previous to her death she informed me that another,
still more splended, offer of marriage, strenuously urged by
her father, had wrung from her the secret of our marriage,
and that she was immediately dismissed from her father's
house in the most disgraceful manner; that
she had wrote to my uncle, claiming his protectionif
not on her own account, for the sake of the unborn infant;
but his answer was, that as I chose to marry without
consulting him, I might maintain my wife as I
could for he would never more do any thing for me;
and as to her he thought she must have behaved very ill,
when her own father had discarded her. From that time
he entirely withdrew his favour, from me, and, though

I went to him soon after the death of my wife, I was
not permitted to see him.

About this time your father, who was then an ensign
in a marching regiment, was ordered to Ireland. I had
not seen him for some years, as he had been stationed at
Plymouth; but could not let him leave the kingdom
without taking a personal leave: I therefore left my
dear boy with the good woman where my Rosa had
lodged, and sat off for that place.

I had not been with my brother above three days,
before I received a letter from the nurse, informing me
that my boy had been carried off by a convulsion fit the
day after I left Windsor. The world now appeared to
me an universal blank. I considered myself as a mere
cypher, without family, connexion or friends, and possessing
but a small portion of wordly goods. I had formed
an acquaintance with several officers belonging to
one of his Majesty's ships going to China; a desire of
roving took possession of my mind. I had, when a boy,
been fond of the study of mathematics, and during my
voyage to Jamaica, had contracted a fondness for a nautical
life, I therefore requested to be admitted on board
the Triton, and was accepted.

In this ship I went to the East-Indies, fully resolved
never to visit England again. This resolution I kept inviolate
for many years, always, changing into some ship
stationed in those parts whenever the one I was in was
remanded home. In his Majesty's service I arose by
degrees to the rank of lieutenant, and my ambition had
led me to hope, during this war, I should have risen
still higher, for the ship I was in, being ordered home,
and I unable to obtain an exchange into one stationed in
India, I returned to England, and was soon after sent
in a cutter with expresses to the fleet at New-York, from
whence I was dispatched to Boston, where I unfortunately
arrived after the evacuation of his Majesty's
troops, and of consequence fell into the hands of the
enemy. I have been detained a prisoner now near two
years, frequently removed from one place to another,
and every removal is still for the worse; but I hear there

is now an exchange of prisoners talked of, so I hope to
be included in the cartel.

“But did you never write to my father?” said Rebecca.

“Yes, frequently, during the first year of my absence
from Europe; but never receiving any answers,
owing, as I imagined, to the unsettled life a soldier in
general leads, I at length ceased to write. When I
was last in England I enquired for him of some of our
old friends, and learned that he was married, and had
one child; but they could give no information where he
was settled, as they had neither seen or heard from
him for many years.”

Rebecca felt a gleam of comfort dilate her affectionate
heart, at having thus unexpectedly found a relation:
“I am not then entirely unconnected,” said she, mentally,
at the same time laying her hand on that of her
uncle, and looking at him with eyes swimming in tears
of filial tenderness, excited by the strong resemblance he
bore to her father.

“My dear girl,” said he, “you have found an old
uncle who will love you with all his heart, and defend
you to the last hour of his existence; but I am as poor,
Rebecca, as when I first put on his Majesty's livery. In
all my long servicce I have not picked up above two
hundred pounds prize-money, and, thinking I had no
one to take it after me, I have spent it as fast, or, perhaps,
sometimes faster than I gained it. But my pay
has been running so long, we shall be quite rich when I
get home, and you shall call me father, and make up to
me the loss of my Rosa and her boy.”

“I will be your daughter in every sense of the word,”
said Rebecca, affectionately kissing his hand.

The conversation now took a more general turn: Colonel
Abthorpe was delighted with the acquisition of a
friend. They could not think of parting till evening,
nor then without a mutual promise of maintaining a frequent
intercourse.