CHAPTER XIV.

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"After leaving Downash," said Eastwood, "I went, as was reported, to sea, and what passed there I would willingly hide from all my friends; suffice it to say, though I always wished to be considered as a gentleman, my manners were so different from what properly belongs to that character, that none would admit me into their company; and I associated with the lowest of the crew; spending my time as they did, and oftener drunk than sober. But let me pass over what it pains me to remember; I was more than once or twice nearly drowned by my own temerity; and two of the ships in which I was, were wrecked, from which I narrowly escaped with my life. For nearly eighteen years I lived this miserable life; discharged from ship to ship on account of my behaviour, till at the end of that time I contracted a very severe illness, which brought me a little to my senses. I was confined to my bed with a rheumatic fever nearly twelve months; three of which I was on board a vessel which put me on shore at Hull, in Yorkshire; and though it was in this country that I was born, I did not know I had any relations left there, for I am ashamed to say, I had never inquired for them. On my first setting out in life, being taken from home very early, and the favourite of my schoolmaster, who overrated my abilities when he recommended me to a medical friend of his, to teach me the profession; I thought myself much above the rest of my family; and on coming to London with my new master, I soon forgot them all. But I am departing from my story, and relating the follies of my youth instead of those of riper age. Alas! what a retrospection is mine! You, Mr. Campbell, can look back on a well-spent life; I only on infamy!" His silence spoke his distress; and Mr. Campbell, wishing to relieve it, said:—

"I think I have heard you mention a brother."

"And it is to that brother," replied Eastwood, "next to Divine Providence, that I am what I now am. When I first knew you I was ashamed of him, and my pride made me tell you an untruth (Oh, that pride should descend to such meanness!) in saying that he was in business for himself; but at that time he was only a shopman, and not being of so dissipated and idle a turn as I was, we never met during the time I mentioned. When I was put on shore at Hull, quite a stranger, though within a few miles of my native place, very ill, and without the use of my limbs, or any money in my pocket, except a very small overplus of my pay, which was left after discharging the surgeon's bill, who attended me on board; my conduct had not been such as to gain me any friends in the ship, and but for the humanity of one of the common sailors, who got me a lodging at a small public-house, I must have perished in the streets. But what I suffered was little, very little to what I deserved. And now I had time to look back and reflect on the past, though I would have drowned reflection as I had often done before, had not the people of the house refused to bring me any liquor. I wish to shorten my tale as much as I can, and will only say, that my brother, who had opened a shop in Hull, and was very prosperous in business, heard my name; and his compassion induced him to come and see if it was his brother, who was formerly ashamed to call him by that name; but, poor and wretched as I was, he was not ashamed of me. He removed me to his own house, where both himself and his wife treated me with the kindest attention.

"Oh, how is it," said he, interrupting his narrative, "how is it, that all my life through I have met with the kindest treatment from those of whom I least deserved it? and now again I experience it; what can I say for myself?

"The best medical aid was procured me, and I had sufficient time, as I said before, to reflect on my past life; and bitter reflections these were. I seemed now for the first time to recollect that I had a daughter; and when sufficiently recovered to undertake the journey, I told my brother I was determined to find her, if she was alive. I preferred coming in person to writing, because I could say nothing good of myself; but my brother told me, that, contrary to every appearance in our younger days, my father had prospered in the small farm he rented when I left him, and had left what little property he died possessed of, between us. 'Your share, and the interest due upon it since his death,' said he, 'shall be yours on your return to Hull; and should you be so fortunate as to find your child alive, let me advise you to settle it on her; and if my hopes of your reformation are realized, it may still be in your power to add to it by an attention to business, in whatever line you choose to enter.'

"I thanked him for his generosity and advice, determined not to accept the former, unless I found my child in a situation that needed it.

"I only arrived in this village about six hours back, and, ashamed and afraid to make any inquiry, my first visit was to the grave of my wife, thinking that if my child was also dead, I should see her name upon the same stone; and then whether I should have proceeded to your house or not, I cannot tell, but accident threw my child in my way at the very spot I went to look for her, though I had not the least idea of who she was, but thought my appearance had alarmed her, as she was passing by."

"Your words, my dear father," said Anna, "assured me who you were, before you saw me; and it was seeing you indistinctly on that spot, which has always been dear to me, and will now be much more so, which led me nearer to it, that I might discover what it was."

And now the father and daughter, and indeed the whole party, rejoiced at their meeting, and the evening was far advanced before Mr. Campbell recollected that his wife would be anxious to hear who the stranger was, and hastened home to inform her. A bed was provided for Eastwood in Mrs. Meridith's house, and a servant sent to the public-house for the things he had brought with him. Bella and Syphax were informed who he was, and it was soon spread through the village, that "Miss Anna's father was come, and that he was quite a gentleman, and seemed very sorry for his past behaviour."

Most of the old folks who remembered his marriage, repaired the next morning to Mr. Campbell's, to know if it was really so; and nothing but his declaring that he had forgiven him, and hoped that he was a reformed man, could have prevented their bestowing some invectives on him, for his conduct to such a nice young woman as poor Anna Campbell was, and his neglect of his daughter: but when in about an hour afterwards, they saw him walk through the village, with Anna on his arm, and observed his dejected and melancholy looks, they altered their opinion, and thought farmer Campbell was right.

"It is a long lane that has no turning," said one old man; "he looks very sorrowful, and may be a good father yet; we, have all something to be forgiven."

"But will he take Miss Meridith away?" was the eager inquiry of all the younger ones: "What shall we do then?" And great was the anxiety and consternation in the village, till they knew what would be the result of this strange occurrence.

Anna after accompanying her father to the farm, left him there, and returned to Mrs. Meridith; while all her movements were as minutely watched by the young villagers, as those of the Emperor Alexander and our other illustrious Visitors, when they lately honoured England with their presence.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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