to the vehicle, beheld a man plainly dressed
standing within the court, with his head and body bent towards the earth,
so that his countenance could not be perceived.

Melvil, who supposed him to be some unfortunate man come to implore his
charity, turned towards him, and asked with a humane accent, if he wanted
to speak with any person in the house? To this interrogation the
stranger replied, without lifting up his head, "Overwhelmed as I am with
Count Melvil's generosity, together with a consciousness of my own
unworthiness, it ill becomes a wretch like me to importune him for
further favour; yet I could not bear the thought of withdrawing, perhaps
for ever, from the presence of my benefactor, without soliciting his
permission to see his face in mercy, to acknowledge my atrocious crimes,
to hear my pardon confirmed by his voice, and that of his accomplished
Countess, whom I dare not even at a distance behold; and to express my
fervent wish for their prosperity."

Melvil, whose heart was but too tender, could not hear this address
without emotion. He recognised the companion of his infancy and youth;
he remembered the happy scenes he had enjoyed with Fathom, whose voice
had always such an effect upon his ear, as to excite the ideas of
friendship and esteem; and he was disturbed by this unexpected meeting,
which also discomposed the beauteous Serafina. Renaldo having paused a
little, "It is with pain," said he, "I recollect anything to the
prejudice of Fathom, whose future behaviour will, I hope, erase the
memory of his offences, and justify what other steps I may take in his
favour. Meanwhile, I heartily forgive what is past; and, in token of my
sincerity, present my hand;" which our adventurer bathed with his tears.
The Countess, whose mind was in unison with her husband, repeated her
assurances of pardon and protection; at which the penitent rejoiced in
silence, while he raised his head and took a parting view of those charms
which had formerly enslaved his heart.

Having thus obeyed the dictates of his duty and inclination, he next
morning embarked in the stage-coach, with his faithful Elenor, and in six
days arrived at the place of his retreat, which he found extremely well
adapted to the circumstances of his mind and fortune. For all his vice
and ambition was now quite mortified within him, and his whole attention
engrossed in atoning for his former crimes, by a sober and penitent life,
by which alone he co