tten to inform the reader by what means General O'Brien
and Celeste arrived so opportunely in England. Martinique had been
captured by our forces about six months before, and the whole of the
garrison surrendered as prisoners of war. General O'Brien was sent home,
and allowed to be on parole; although born a Frenchman, he had very high
connections in Ireland, of whom Lord Belmore was one. When they arrived,
they had made every inquiry for me without success; they knew that I had
been tried by a court-martial, and dismissed my ship, but after that, no
clue could be found for my discovery.

Celeste, who was fearful that some dreadful accident had occurred to me,
had suffered very much in health; and General O'Brien, perceiving how
much his daughter's happiness depended upon her attachment for me, had
made up his mind that if I were found we should be united. I hardly need
say how delighted he was when he discovered me, though in a situation so
little to be envied.

The story of my incarceration, of the action to be brought against my
uncle, and the reports of foul play relative to the succession, had in
the meantime been widely circulated among the nobility; and I found that
every attention was paid me, and I was repeatedly invited out as an
object of curiosity and speculation. The loss of my sister also was a
subject of much interest, and many people, from goodwill, made every
inquiry to discover her. I had returned one day from the solicitor's,
who had advertised for her in the newspapers without success, when I
found a letter for me on the table, in an Admiralty enclosure. I opened
it--the enclosure was one from O'Brien, who had just cast anchor at
Spithead, and who had requested that the letter should be forwarded to
me, if any one could tell my address. I tore it open.

"My dear Peter,--Where are, and what has become of, you? I have
received no letters for these two years, and I have fretted myself to
death. I received your letter about the rascally court-martial; but
perhaps you have not heard that the little scoundrel is dead. Yes,
Peter; he brought your letter out in his own ship, and that was his
death-warrant. I met him at a private party. He brought up your name--
I allowed him to abuse you, and then told him he was a liar and a
scoundrel; upon which he challenged me, very much against his will;
but the affront was so public, that he couldn't help himself. Upon
which I shot him, with all t