“No, my Emmy, we must not use the general’s gold in doing what he might not wish; it would be ungenerous.  I will try to get somebody to lend me what I want—­say Mrs. Sainsbury, or the Tamworths.  And as for leaving you, my love, have no fears for me or for yourself; situated as we are, I take it as a duty to go, and make you happier, setting you in rights, whatever these may be; and for the rest, I leave you in His holy keeping who can preserve you alike in body, as in soul, from all things that would hurt you, and whose mercy will protect me in all perils, and bring me back to you in safety.  This is my trust, Emmy.”

“Dear Charles, you are always wiser and better than I am:  let it be so then, my best of friends.  Seek out good nurse Mackie, I can give you many clues, hear what she has to say; and may the God of your own poor fatherless Emily speed your holy mission!  Yet there is one thing, Charles; ought you not to ask your parents for their leave to go?  You are better skilled to judge than I can be, though.”

“Emmy, whom have I to ask? my father? he cares not whither I go nor what becomes of me; I hardly know him, and for twenty years of my short life of twenty-one, scarcely believed in his existence; or should I ask my mother? alas—­love!  I wish I could persuade myself that she would wish me back again if I were gone; moreover, how can I respect her judgment, or be guided by her counsel, whose constant aim has been to thwart my feeble efforts after truth and wisdom, and to pamper all ill growths in my unhappy brother Julian?  No, Emily; I am a man now, and take my own advice.  If a parent forbade me, indeed, and reasonably, it would be fit to acquiesce; but knowing, as I have sad cause to know, that none but you, my love, will be sorry for my absence, as for your sake alone that absence is designed, I need take counsel only of us who are here present—­your own sweet eyes, myself, and God who seeth us.”

“True—­most true, dear Charles; I knew that you judged rightly.”

“Moreover, Emmy, secresy is needful for the due fulfilment of my purpose.” (Charles little thought how congenial to his nature was that same secresy.) “None but you must know where I am, or whither I am gone.  For if there really is any mystery which the general would conceal from us, be assured he both could and would frustrate all my efforts if he knew of my design.  The same ship that carried me out would convey an emissary from him, and nurse Mackie never could be found by me.  I must go then secretly, and, for our peace sake, soon; how dear to me that embassy will be, entirely undertaken in my darling Emmy’s cause!”

“But—­but, Charles, what if Julian, in your absence—­”

“Hark, my own betrothed! while I am near you—­and I say it not of threat, but as in the sight of One who has privileged me to be your protector—­you are safe from any serious vexation; and the moment I am gone, fly to my father, tell him openly your fears, and he will scatter Julian’s insolence to the winds of heaven.”