Edward Barnett; a Neglected Child of South Carolina, Who Rose to Be a Peer of Great Britain,—and the Stormy Life of His Grandfather, Captain Williams - or, The Earle's Victims: with an Account of the Terrible End of the Proud Earl De Montford, the Lamenta by Tobias Aconite
page 58 of 74 (78%)
page 58 of 74 (78%)
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peril and of death. Mr. Elliott doted on his grandchild, and she
remained with him. Those were times that tried men's hearts, and my father-in-law was chivalrous as he was generous--he gave the bulk of his fortune to his country's need, and confiding my daughter, then a child some two years old, to a distant relative, carried his grey head and feeble limbs to join the ranks of those who fought for liberty. He fell gloriously in battle, and when, after years of active service, peace was declared, and I came home to seek my daughter, the lady who had her in charge had died of fever, and my child had been taken away, no one could tell me by whom or where:--all traces of her were lost. I now longed to see my father, peace was declared, the Independence of America admitted, and as I had fought under an assumed name, I anticipated no danger. I was received as one from the grave. I never mentioned my marriage, even to my father, but accounted for my absence and my silence, by saying that, ashamed to come home after being dismissed, I had gone in a merchant vessel to India, and had there been taken prisoner by the Lootees, a species of banditti, while on an excursion inland. My tale was easily believed; to please my father, I married again. The sister of good Mrs. Ally, my second wife, was a good and kind woman, and after the birth of my daughter Mary, I again hoped for happiness. Vain hope. The malice of the De Montford family was again let loose upon me. Your grandfather was dead. I knew nothing of the events that had occurred during my absence, and supposed that his first wife had died in Italy, and her son also. But the countess had found among her husband's papers, so I suppose, at least, for on this point I am uninformed, something which threw light upon the past, and, supposing that I knew of the existence of your father resolved on removing me. I was fond of shooting, and one day shot a hare in a distant part of the manor. I had been watched, by her orders, and a charge of poaching was instituted against me. Her son was absent then, upon his murderous errand, as I |
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