THE SMUGGLER. 277 



disapproved, yet at first, and from the first, I determined, if I 

 saw the attachment continue and prove real and sincere, to 

 sacrifice all feelings of pride, and all considerations of fortune, 

 and when you were of a fit age, to confirm the idle ceremony 

 which had passed between you, by a real and lawful marriage." 

 " Oh! that was kind and generous of you, my dear father. 

 What could make you change so suddenly and fatally? You 

 must have seen that the attachment was true and lasting ; you 

 must have known that Henry was in every way calculated to 

 make your daughter happy." 



" You shall hear, Edith ; you shall hear," replied her 

 father. "Very shortly after the event of which I have 

 spoken, another occurred, of a dark and terrible character, 

 only known to myself and one other. I was somewhat irri- 

 table at that time. My views and prospects with regard to 

 yourself were crossed; and although I had taken the resolu- 

 tion I have mentioned, vexation and disappointment had their 

 effect upon my mind. Always passionate, I gave way more 

 to my passion than I had ever done before; and the result 

 was a fatal and terrible one. You may remember poor Clare, 

 the gamekeeper. He had offended me on the Monday morn- 

 ing ; and I had used violent and angry language towards him 

 before his companions, threatening to punish him in a way he 

 did not expect. On the following day, we went out again to 

 shoot ; he and I alone together ; and, on our way back, we 



passed through a little wood, which lies " 



c "Oh, stop; stopl" cried Edith, covering her eyes with her 

 hands. "Do not tell me any morel" 



Her father was not displeased to see her emotion, for it 

 answered his purpose. Yet, it must not be supposed that 

 the peculiar tone and manner which he assumed, so different 

 from anything that had been seen in his demeanour for years, 

 was affected as a means to an end. Such was not the case. 

 Sir Robert Croyland was now true, in manner and in words, 

 though it was the first time that he had been entirely so for 

 many years. There had been a terrible struggle before he 

 could make up his mind to speak; but yet, when he did begin, 

 it was a relief to him to unburthen the overloaded breast, 

 even to his own child. It softened him ; it made his heart 

 expand; it took the chain off long-imprisoned feelings, and 

 gave a better spirit room to make its presence felt. He did 



