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them as their king, according to the oath they had made to Nina
It was long before the notable wife and the family of the Settler knew of his fate. When they did it was too late to recover his body, which, after hanging until it was frightfully disfigured by carrion birds, had been humanely hidden beneath the earth by the Indians who had assisted in capturing him.
The rough children of the wilds mourned not their father or their brother with outward signs of grief. The farm affairs went on as before, no difference was to be perceived. It was only when the family were gathered, remote from strangers, on the hearth in the winter evenings, or at the door in the summer evenings ; when the daughters and their mother sat by their sugar troughs under the maple trees in the early spring morning, or the sons in their fishing boats at midnight; it was only at such times that they spoke together of those they had lost, and let fall a tear, or breathed a sigh to their memory, cursing the hour which had first brought Clinton to their house.
“ One thing more, my child,
The ivory miniature of Lady Hester which Clinton had always worn was found shattered on his heart. At the back of it was a piece of worn paper, on which appeared the affecting farewell verses of Lucy Lee, in her own hand writing. Under them Clinton had penned, apparently recently, these words :
“ Sweet, ill-used girl! living I could not be thine, but in death thy grave shall receive me. My bones shall moulder on the coffin, Lucy, in which thou liest, who loved me but too well! I was the cause of thy early death, for which I feel there is yet reserved for me some unforeseen punishment. But for me, thou mightest have lived to bless some faithful heart with thy young beauty, thy unsullied innocence, and thy exquisite tenderuess. But for me, the fair blossom of
thy girlhood might have ripened into the full flower of womanly perfection, whose fragrance should now have been shed around some blissful bower which angels might have looked upon with delight. Yes, I fear it cannot be that I, who wilfully broke the heart of her who loved me, should be allowed to live happy long with her whom I love."
This foreboding of a restless conscience we have seen Lut too fearfully realised.
And now the terrible event made known to the Pirate, he felt half the bitterness of death past. So strong a tie to earth cut, he held it with a looser grasp. All the day after he sat meditating, not willingly allowing himself to be disturbed even to speak to the Pastor.
At the sight of him the good clergyman broke into tears. Memory flew back on wings as swist as light through the long vista of years to the hour when he saw this man in the early prime of manhood, bearing away his daughter whom he was never to meet more.
My Fanny !-I think I see her by your side,” faltered the old “Ah! had she lived to see this day of misery! God was merciful to her, and removed her out of the way of the heavy sorrows that her less fortunate father is called upon to bear in his old age. Yes, God be thanked !-He does all things well."
“ I wish you could persuade me of that,” said the Pirate, abruptly. “ Is this murder well ?”
“ Let us upon our knees, my son," was the Pastor's indirect but solemn rejoinder, “ and pray that heaven will give us faith to trust in Eternal love even while all is darkness around. Come, let us throw ourselves be
fore the throne of grace, for nothing but Almighty grace can preserve us from impious distrust and despair under our present painful trials.”
With eyeballs dry and burning, with parched tongue and flaming brain, the Pirate reluctantly knelt down by the side of his aged father-in-law, who poured forth a broken but fervent supplication for his condemned son and his afflicted grandchildren. At the conclusion the Pirate gradually bowed his head on the bench before which he knelt, and there burst from him a storm of tears that seemed to open up all the long-sealed floodgates of his heart, and to shake strong nature to her base. The Pastor broke off, and supported the sufferer in his arms. Long did that storm of grief continue, and when it passed away the Pirate's soul was softened and relieved. Then he listened to the persuasive arguments of the Pastor for repentance, faith in the Son of God, a resurrection, and everlasting felicity.
“ Would that I could hope !” exclaimed the Pirate, despairingly. Here his countenance grew black and distorted, he ground his teeth in some acute bodily agony, and rolled over and over on the ground.
The Pastor summoned the turnkey in affright. The man looked conscience-stricken, and his knees knocked together.
“ Good sir,” said he to the clergyman, “pray do not betray me! The Marquis managed to get some poison in here, and when I found it out he begged so hard for me to let him keep it that I-1-could not deny him.”
“ Poison !” interrupted the Pastor, “ has he taken poison?”
“I have,” groaned the Pirate, speaking between the fierce paroxysms of his pain. “ Nothing can save me. Alarm no one. Turnkey-father--do not stir. I am beyond the reach of medicine-let me die, therefore, in quiet.”
" What horror is to light next upon my hoary head !” cried the Pastor, staggering to a seat. “O for a grave, my God! that I may see
no more of this wretched world. Now I am quite overcome! I have hitherto struggled well against the pressure of calamity, but this is the end of my patience, if more grief comes my worn out heart will crack under it."
· My daughter !--my Jenny!—fetch her hither, I must speak with her. Hasten! or it will be too late," gasped the Pirate.
She was already in the prison and approaching the cell. The turnkey met her in the passage, and acquainted her with what had happened. She immediately rushed to her writhing father, and fell into his arms, as he reclined on his elbow on the floor.
“ A few words are all I can say to thee, my darling Jenny!” he pathetically but with difficulty articulated. “ You have been the balm of my life! The comfort you have given me, may it be returned into your own bosom! Mr. Lee, on that bench is my will, which I have written since I heard of my son's death. Jane inherits all my estates, excepting only the mansion itself and its furniture, which is Lady Hester's in right of her husband. I can say no more.
These horrible tortures prevent-”
The turnkey re-entered to say, that a messenger had just come from Madame Barry to inform the Marquis