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PAUL LANDER. 



quick knock was struck on the door j springing to the window, 

 Edward demanded, in a hoarse, impetuous voice, the nature of their 

 business. "Does Luke Lander reside here?" "Ah!" replied 

 Edward, " come you here to take us like birds in a snare ? we 

 know you — this is Luke Lander's — what then ?" He could 

 scarcely articulate. The persons seemed to pause a moment, 

 when one of them, stepping in front of the window, said to 

 Edward, with subdued tone, "The person who addresses you is a 

 friend." " A friend," echoed the youth, as if suspecting the truth 

 of the communication. Before he could recover himself, Paul 

 stepped to the door, and, unbolting it, stood before them -, his pale 

 sunken cheeks, shadowed by his thick clustering hair, thrown 

 boldly off from his broad white forehead, looking still more pale in 

 the partial twilight ; he stood calmly before the inquisitors. 

 " Sir," said the gentleman, evidently moved by the appearance and 

 manner of Paul, " I seek Paul, the son of Luke Lander, nor need 

 he fear to give his hand to Sir James Westbery." The stranger 

 bowed low as he spoke. " Sir, I arn the man, I am Paul Lander." 

 *' No, no," screamed the distracted Luke, rushing past his son, and 

 glaring on the stranger with a frenzied eye — " / am Luke Lander, 

 yes, I am the poor old bankrupt ; do you hear me ?" The gentle- 

 man started back, but suspecting the nature of the scene, he 

 passed quietly into the cottage, his servant remaining at the door. 

 Poor Luke staggered after, and stood in dreadful anticipation. 

 The stranger took his son's hand, " You are Paul Lander ? " "I 



am." " You are the author and writer of , directed 



to me on such a date ? " " I am," muttered Paul. " Sir, I rejoice 

 to know you — to offer you my hand and support ; the more so, as 

 my presence, if I may judge from the distressing appearance of 

 your family, will bring joy, and gladness, and honour, to the house 

 of mourning." " Joy ! joy ! " muttered Luke, scarcely compre- 

 hending the meaning of what was said, " vi\\o talks of joy } " 

 " Father, father, peace," said Edward, holding him back. " Yes 

 Sir, of joy," said the stranger, turning to the trembling Luke. " In 

 your son, Sir, behold one of the first men of the age." Paul sunk, 

 gasping, on a chair. "It having been signified by the committee 

 of the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty, that your discoveries 

 and inductions will produce the happiest results to his Majesty's 

 Navy, I, Sir James Westbery, am commissioned to present you 

 with two hundred pounds, and the same to be settled as an annuity 

 for life." " Two hundred pounds ! Good Sir, God bless you. Sir, 

 trifle with me not, I am a poor broken-hearted, ruined man , I am 

 quite ready -, the poor boy meant well." Then, as if recovering a 

 short glimpse of hope, " Joy, joy, two hundred pounds ! " The 

 stranger took his hand, and without saying a word filled it with 

 gold. Luke gazed on the money, then at the stranger, at his 

 sons, his wife, his quiet home — "Ah, ah, Paul, son, joy, joy, 

 wife." The stranger caught him as he fell, overpowered by his 

 feelings. The truth became positive. The poor redeemed family 

 wept blissful tears, in the extacy of their hearts. There sat the 



