The Mysterious Wanderer, Vol. I

ensive landscape. In passing along a bank from which the ancient walls of the church-yard rose, a groan, replete with anguish, assailed their ears. The heart of Frederick ever fe

hat showed the wreck of every manly beauty, whilst his hair, gently waving in the evening breeze, shaded, and added a softness to the settled grief impressed on his countenance. A

d, when the Captain (who, with Mr. Talton, had followed Frederick) took the hand of the unhappy man; the softened accent of commiseration hung on his lips, but, the mourner mu

, perceiving her scarcely able to support herself, again hastened to her assistance, and the

o their host, who said-"Ah, your Honour, it was Lieutenant Booyers. Poor gentleman-he is the pity of

d the Captain, "to what misfortun

compassionate Jarvis, "never, I believe, did any ma

cting him. I remember a Francis Booyers, who some years since served, at the time I did, on board the

e, there are few circumstances of h

had the happiness to save his life! It was by that, indeed, I was disabled; for I had my knee broken, and received a musket shot in my side; but that I did not regret, for, wounded as I was, there was not a man left of the regiment but envied me an action I shall ever regard as my greatest glory: Aye, your Honours, or who would

orbade him his sight, and passed from one act of unkindness to another, till at last he disinherited him! The Colonel, at first, sought a reconciliation by means of their common friends; but, finding it of no e

ved the least interruption: but our regiment was then again ordered abroad; and leaving his family in this village, under the pro

from the field. Many times had I faced death, regardless of the carnage which surrounded me-but the sight of my noble master's corpse made me a coward! The shout

m, whom the day before I had beheld in the pride of health; surrounded with honour; whose words the oldest officers listened to with respect, and whose presence could animate and lead his men to the greatest dangers, then bereft of life, and hurried to the dust-to think of his wife-his children!-My heart already swelled with anguish to the utmost, could bear no more-I threw myself in the half-filled grave-in bitter terms lamented his unt

ing to my master was therefore entrusted to my care, and I once more returned to Wales; when I found an account of his death had reached his wife by means of the public papers. She bore her loss with that meek resignation which marked her character, and, being then destitute of other support than he

herited from a relation: but they, like the old gentleman, were deaf to her claim of relief or protection; their p

wishes rather than your hopes depress you. In Lady Elvyn, you have a sincere and affectionate friend: your hearts are congenial: stay then with her, and let her attentions and commiseration soothe the sorrows of your widowhood: as for your

and respect the fidelity and attachment you have ever evinced for my unfortunate friend and his wife; and, as I believe you wish still to be near their children, I now offe

fer, and as butler passed t

eed ever loved them as though they had been his own: himself had only three daughters, the lov

Sir James, however, scarcely allowed them to be conscious of the loss; his wife, he wo

he fairest prospect of promotion was before them. An active war then called them abroad; and well I remember the morning they bade Sir James and the young ladies farewell. My master took a hand of each, as they were preparing to step into the carriage which was to convey them away, and, pressing them to his bosom, said-'Farewell, my dear boys; and remembe

their return, and for six weeks we had nought but feasts and merriment. About that time Mr. Corbet disclosed a passion he entertained for Miss Eliza; and Sir James instantly wrote to Sir Horace, who a few days after likewise arrived. Ah! all then was truly a scene of happin

rovide themselves another habitation; and Sir Horace, who had pretended the greatest friendship and affection, instantly changed, and peremptorily told his son, he must cease his addresses to Miss Eliza. This, Mr. Corbet refused, and declared his resolution to espouse her, whatever consequence might ensue: but Sir Horace hurried him away to his seat in Ca

d the Captain and Mr. Ta

s brother used every means to discover what was become of her; but, though they entertained not the least doub

quire a competence more adequate to the expenses of a family; and, finding all endeavours to alter their resolution ineffectual, my young masters at las

ajor; when Miss Mary yielded to his solicitations, and they were married. But her happiness

was ordered abroad, where, like his father, he lost his life in the field; le

iage was still and still deferred, in hopes fortune would prove more favourable; till the ship he served in was put out of commission; and, after having been many times wounded, and lost an arm, he is now returne