“CHARLOTTE GRANDISON.”

What we learnt from the honest man who brought the letter is, briefly, as follows: 

His master is Sir Charles Grandison; a gentleman who has not been long in England.

Sir Charles was going to town in his chariot and six when he met our distressed cousin.

Sir Hargrave is the villain.

Sir Charles had earnest business in town, and he proceeded thither, after he had rescued the dear creature and committed her to the care of his sister.  God forever bless him!

VII.—­Mr. Reeves to George Selby, Esq.:  In Continuation

February 18.  I am just returned from visiting my beloved cousin, who is still weak, but is more composed than she has hitherto been, the amiable lady, Miss Grandison tells me.

Sir Charles Grandison is, indeed, a fine figure.  He is the bloom of youth.  I don’t know that I have ever seen a handsomer or genteeler man.  Well might his sister say that if he married he would break a score of hearts.

I will relate all he said in the first person, as nearly in his own words as possible.

“About two miles on this side Hounslow,” said he, “I saw a chariot and six driving at a great rate.

“The coachman seemed inclined to dispute the way with mine.  This occasioned a few moments’ stop to both.  I ordered my coachman to break the way.  I don’t love to stand on trifles.  My horses were fresh and I had not come far.

“The curtain of the chariot we met was pulled down.  I knew by the arms it was Sir Hargrave Pollexfen’s.

“There was in it a gentleman who immediately pulled up the canvas.

“I saw, however, before he drew it up another person wrapped up in a man’s scarlet cloak.

“‘For God’s sake, help—­help!’ cried out the person.  ’For God’s sake, help!’

“I ordered my coachman to stop.

“‘Drive on!’ said the gentleman, cursing his coachman.  ’Drive on when I bid you I’

“‘Help!’ again cried she, but with a voice as if her mouth was half stopped.

“I called to my servants on horseback to stop the postilion of the other chariot; and I bid Sir Hargrave’s coachman proceed at his peril.  Then I alighted, and went round to the other side of the chariot.

“Again the lady endeavoured to cry out.  I saw Sir Hargrave struggle to pull over her mouth a handkerchief, which was tied around her head.  He swore outrageously.

“The moment she beheld me, she spread out both her hands—­’For God’s sake!’

“‘Sir Hargrave Pollexfen,’ said I, ’by the arms.  You are engaged, I doubt, in a very bad affair.’

“‘I am Sir Hargrave Pollexfen, and am carrying a fugitive wife.’

“‘Your own wife, Sir Hargrave?’

“‘Yes, by heaven!’ said he.  ’And she was going to elope from me at a damned masquerade!’

“‘Oh, no, no, no!’ said the lady.