THE HOSPITAL OF ST. JOHN. 73 



successful. You knew it not. We fled, and in three short months 

 my harshness had broken a spirit which was too fine for mere mor- 

 tality. You have heard the rest : she died on a foreign shore, with 

 no friend to close her eyes, no voice to speak peace to her in her soli- 

 tude an alien from all she loved, and the victim of a wretch who knew 

 not the nobleness and treasure of a woman's heart. Ere she breathed 

 her last, she said to me i seek Henry Trevanon, I beseech you, arid 

 deliver into his own hands this small ringlet, as a token that in death 

 he was not forgotten. Do this and you are pardoned T This I now 

 perform, and I have found you, despite the tempest, to fulfil her fond 

 injunction ; for the time is coming when I shall be sought for and 

 found wanting. Once more, then, I kneel before you, and by the 

 holy office which my villainy has driven you to embrace, by your re- 

 ligion, in which I have no portion, and by the virtue of which I have 

 no share, I implore you to grant me your forgiveness. " 



It was some time before Father Eustace, (or Henry Trevanion as 

 he was really called) could sufficiently suppress the workings of his 

 feeling heart, which still beat with sincere affection for his first and 

 only love, to answer his entreaty. At length he asked him, "Are 

 you, then, that miserable and most unhappy man on whom our sus- 

 picions fell ? Bear you that name which none pronounce without a 

 shudder, and a fearful recollection of the darkest deeds which Corn- 

 wall ever knew ? " u I am indeed, that man ! " replied the stranger. 

 Nay start not for you cannot serve me now. 1 had, even then, sold 

 myself for a fleeting enjoyment to one who comes to claim me, and 

 the relief which this present interview with you has given to my 

 troubled bosom, is far more precious than the sacred quiet of the 

 mind when you have shrived a penitent. It almost compensates for 

 the bitter knowledge that my name will be a bye word and reproach, 

 as my crimes will be the scorn, and my desolation the dread of ages 

 yet unborn. The midnight hour has arrived and let me, ere we 

 part for ever, hear you grant me pardon. " " It shall not be said, " 

 replied the Father, " that Henry Trevanion was ever asked that boon 

 in vain " ; but before it was possible to add more, a bugle at the ex- 

 tremity of the bridge, blew a blast so loud and bitter, that it thrilled 

 the very soul. The stranger started from his seat, seized his cloak, 

 and while his reddened eyeballs flashed with fire, rushed hastily to 

 the door. He paused an instant, and turning to Eustace said in a 

 softer and more plaintive tone than he yet had used, " My injured 

 Henry, your's is the last mortal eye that shall behold me here on earth , 

 and although I go to suffer, relieve the awful reality of those moments 

 for the sake of Matilda Robson's memory, by assuring me once more 



VOL. i. 1833. K 



