ce
you of it, you were educated and known as a natural son of Geraldin
Neville of Neville's-Burgh, in Yorkshire, and I presume, as his destined
heir?"

"Pardon me--no such views were held out to me. I was liberally educated,
and pushed forward in the army by money and interest; but I believe my
supposed father long entertained some ideas of marriage, though he never
carried them into effect."

"You say your supposed father?--What leads you to suppose Mr. Geraldin
Neville was not your real father?"

"I know, Mr. Oldbuck, that you would not ask these questions on a
point of such delicacy for the gratification of idle curiosity. I will
therefore tell you candidly, that last year, while we occupied a
small town in French Flanders, I found in a convent, near which I
was quartered, a woman who spoke remarkably good English--She was a
Spaniard--her name Teresa D'Acunha. In the process of our acquaintance,
she discovered who I was, and made herself known to me as the person
who had charge of my infancy. She dropped more than one hint of rank to
which I was entitled, and of injustice done to me, promising a more
full disclosure in case of the death of a lady in Scotland, during whose
lifetime she was determined to keep the secret. She also intimated that
Mr. Geraldin Neville was not my father. We were attacked by the enemy,
and driven from the town, which was pillaged with savage ferocity by the
republicans. The religious orders were the particular objects of their
hate and cruelty. The convent was burned, and several nuns perished--
among others Teresa; and with her all chance of knowing the story of my
birth: tragic by all accounts it must have been."

"Raro antecedentem scelestum, or, as I may here say, scelestam," said
Oldbuck, "deseruit poena--even Epicureans admitted that. And what did you
do upon this?"

"I remonstrated with Mr. Neville by letter, and to no purpose. I then
obtained leave of absence, and threw myself at his feet, conjuring him
to complete the disclosure which Teresa had begun. He refused, and, on
my importunity, indignantly upbraided me with the favours he had already
conferred. I thought he abused the power of a benefactor, as he was
compelled to admit he had no title to that of a father, and we parted
in mutual displeasure. I renounced the name of Neville, and assumed
that under which you knew me. It was at this time, when residing with a
friend in the north of England who favoured my disguise, tha