sband. The calls of her protector, however, became more frequent;
and at length he announced his intended departure for Lisbon, on his way
to England. A small covered vehicle, drawn by one horse, was to convey
them to the city, at which place he promised to procure her a female
attendant, and necessaries for the voyage home. It was no time or place
for delicate punctilio; and Julia quietly, but with a heart nearly broken,
prepared to submit to the wishes of her late husband. After leaving the
dwelling, the manners of her guide sensibly altered; he became
complimentary and assiduous to please, but in a way rather to offend than
conciliate; until his attentions became so irksome, that Julia actually
meditated stopping at some of the villages through which they passed, and
abandoning the attempt of visiting England entirely. But the desire to
comply with Fitzgerald's wish, that she would console his mother for the
loss of an only child, and the dread of the anger of her relatives,
determined her to persevere until they reached Lisbon, where she was
resolved to separate for ever from the disagreeable and unknown guardian
into whose keeping she had been thrown by chance.

The last day of their weary ride, while passing a wood, the officer so far
forgot his own character and Julia's misfortunes, as to offer personal
indignities. Grown desperate from her situation, Mrs. Fitzgerald sprang
from the vehicle, and by her cries attracted the notice of an officer who
was riding express on the same road with themselves. He advanced to her
assistance at speed, but as he arrived near them, a pistol fired from the
carriage brought his horse down, and the treacherous friend was enabled to
escape undetected. Julia endeavored to explain her situation to her
rescuer; and by her distress and appearance, satisfied him at once of its
truth. Within a short time, a strong escort of light dragoons came up, and
the officer despatched some for a conveyance, and others in pursuit of
that disgrace to the army, the villanous guide: the former was soon
obtained, but no tidings could be had of the latter. The carriage was
found at a short distance, without the horse and with the baggage of
Julia, but with no vestige of its owner. She never knew his name, and
either accident or art had so completely enveloped him in mystery, that
all efforts to unfold it then were fruitless, and had continued so ever
since.

On their arrival in Lisbon, every attention was