Mrs. Loudon

“The darts of death,
Are but hail to me, so oft they’ve bounded
From my shield!”

“No boy’s staff his spear!”
“No harmless beam
Of light, his sword.”

The next day, according to appointment, Edmund went to dine on board the Erina. Arriving rather early, he found Lord Fitz-Ullin alone in his cabin, reading a newspaper.

His lordship received our hero with the greatest cordiality, saying, he was happy to have it in his power to show any mark of attention, however trifling, to the young friend of Lord L.; “particularly,” he added, smiling, “as my office of patron is, I understand, to be quite a sinecure, I am the more called upon to discover minor modes of proving my friendship. You have already, I am informed, Mr. Montgomery,” he continued, “by your gallant conduct, so far cut your own way, that you are to receive your commission immediately, without any interference on my part. But, remember, my interest is only laid up for the first occasion on which it may be required, when you shall command it in a double proportion.”

Edmund was commencing a speech of thanks, but was prevented by Lord Fitz-Ullin, who said, “By the bye, Ormond is going up to the next examination, which will take place in a day or two. Had you not better go with him? You can then pass, and be made, without any unnecessary delays; and, if you have no objection to sail with me, we can have you appointed to the Erina on your promotion.”

Edmund was delighted with this arrangement; and, as he smiled, and made his grateful acknowledgments, and even when he had concluded, he observed Lord Fitz-Ullin’s eyes resting on his features with a lingering expression of interest which surprised him, and therefore made him look grave. For a moment or two Lord Fitz-Ullin continued to gaze at him, as if waiting for something; and then, with an air of disappointment, sat down, and resumed his newspaper.

Ormond entering, and joining Edmund, the young people conversed with animation, but apart, that they might not interrupt the admiral’s reading. Edmund, however, saw that the newspaper was little regarded, and that Lord Fitz-Ullin’s eyes were generally turned on his countenance. He felt rather embarrassed by so strict a scrutiny, but contrived to maintain the appearance of not noticing it, except that he coloured a little.

Lord Fitz-Ullin rose, came forward, and joining them, asked Edmund if he thought Ormond like him.

“I have scarcely ever seen a likeness so strong as that of Lord Ormond to your lordship,” answered Edmund.

“Such is the general opinion,” said Lord Fitz-Ullin; “but it is a stationary likeness, consisting in feature. What a fascination there is about that gleam of resemblance, found only in expression, which comes and goes with a smile, particularly when the likeness is to one who has been dear to us, and who no longer exists! We wait for it, we watch for it! and, when it comes, it brings momentary sunshine to the heart, and is gone again, with all the freshness of its charm entire, the eye not having had time to satisfy itself with a full examination into its nature or degree.”

Letters were at this moment brought in, and the admiral opened one, which he excused himself for reading, saying, it was from Lady Fitz-Ullin. The entrance of the rest of the company now diversified the scene, and dinner soon followed.

During the remainder of the day and evening, the intimacy between our hero and his young friend, Oscar Ormond, such was Lord Ormond’s name, made rapid progress; and both the lads looked forward, with equal pleasure, to the prospect of Edmund’s being appointed to the Erina.

There was an innocent openness about the manners of Oscar Ormond, proceeding from perfectly harmless intentions, which, to one so young as Edmund, and, himself of a disposition peculiarly frank, was very attractive. In Oscar, however, this winning quality, never having been cultivated into a virtue, had remained a mere instinct, and was even in danger of degenerating into a weakness—we mean that of idle egotism. While Edmund’s native candour, equally, in the first instance, springing from an honest consciousness of having no motive to conceal a thought, had, during that earliest period of education, so vitally important, been trained and sustained by the skilful hand of Mr. Jackson; and, therefore, already was accompanied by undeviating veracity on principle, and a consequent firmness of mind, worthy of riper years. This gave our hero an ascendancy over his young friend, which might be said to have commenced at their very first interview; and which, in their after lives, frequently influenced the conduct of both, though neither, perhaps, was conscious of its existence.