letter containing every minutiae of his escape, which
he had forwarded to her, under cover to Captain Seaforth,
only seven days after his supposed death. Had
the captain received this letter, all anxiety would
have been spared, for as he did not write to Mr. Hamilton
for above a week after Edward’s disappearance,
it would have reached him first; it was therefore
very clear it had been lost on its way, and Edward
fearing such might be the case, from the uncertain
method by which it had been sent, wrote again.
He had quite recovered, he said, all ill effects from
being so long floating in the water on a narrow plank;
that he was treated with marked kindness and attention
by all the crew of the Alma, a Spanish vessel bound
to Rio Janeiro and thence to New York, particularly
by an Englishman, Lieutenant Mordaunt, to whose energetic
exertions he said he greatly owed his preservation;
for it was he who had prevailed on the captain to lower
a boat, to discover what that strange object was floating
on the waves. He continued, there was something
about Lieutenant Mordaunt he could not define, but
which had the power of irresistibly attracting his
respect, if not affection. His story he believed
was uncommon, but he had not yet heard it all, and
had no time to repeat it, as he was writing in great
haste. Affectionately he hoped no alarm amongst
his friends had been entertained on his account, that
it would not be long before he returned home; for
as soon as the slow-sailing Spaniard could finish her
affairs with the ports along the coast of Spanish
America and reach New York, Lieutenant Mordaunt and
himself had determined on quitting her, and returning
to England by the first packet that sailed. A
letter to New York might reach him, but it was a chance;
therefore he did not expect to receive any certain
intelligence of home—a truth which only
made him the more anxious to reach it.
Quickly the news that Edward Fortescue lived, and
was returning home in perfect health, extended far
and wide, and brought joy to all who heard it.
A messenger was instantly despatched to Trevilion Vicarage
to impart the joyful intelligence to Arthur and Emmeline,
and the next day saw them both at Oakwood to rejoice
with Ellen at this unexpected but most welcome news.
There was not one who had been aware of the suspense
Mr. Hamilton and Ellen had been enduring who did not
sympathise in their relief. Even Mrs. Greville
left her solitary home to seek the friends of her
youth: she had done so previously when affliction
was their portion. She had more than once shared
Ellen’s anxious task of nursing, when Mrs. Hamilton’s
fever had been highest; kindly and judiciously she
had soothed in grief, and Mrs. Greville’s character
was too unselfish to refuse her sympathy in joy.