te, a worthy, but infirm and elderly man,
fast sinking into his grave, and whom, out of Christian charity, he
would not remove from his situation, as it would have deprived him of
the means of support.

Edward, the younger brother, naturally sought that happiness abroad
which was denied him at home. The house of the curate was one of his
most favourite resorts, for the old man had a beautiful and only
daughter,--poor Ellen, whose fate we have just recorded. It is
sufficient for the present narrative to state that these two young
people loved and plighted their troth; that for two years they met with
joy and parted with regret, until the approaching dissolution of the old
curate opened their eyes to the dangerous position in which they were
placed. He died; and Edward, who beheld her whom he loved thrown
unprotected and penniless on the world, mustered up the courage of
desperation to state to his father the wishes of his heart.

A peremptory order to leave the house, or abandon Ellen, was the
immediate result; and the indignant young man quitted the roof, and
persuaded the unhappy and fond girl to unite herself to him by
indissoluble ties, in a neighbouring parish, before the vicar had
possession of the facts, or the opportunity to dissuade him from so
imprudent a step. He immediately proceeded to the hall, with a faint
hope of appeasing the irritated parent; but his endeavours were
fruitless, and the admiral poured forth his anathema against his only
child.

Edward now took his wife to a village some miles distant, where, by
their mutual exertions, they contrived for some time to live upon their
earnings; but the birth of their first child, the hero of this tale, and
the expenses attending her sickness, forced him at last (when all
appeals to his father proved in vain) to accept the high bounty that was
offered for men to enter into his Majesty's service, which he did under
the assumed name of Edward Peters.

CHAPTER SIX.

I disclaim all my paternal care,
Propinquity and property of blood.
The barbarous Scythian,
Or he that makes his generation messes
To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom
Be as well neighbour'd, pitied, and relieved,
As him.
SHAKESPEARE.

In a lofty room, the wainscoting of which was of dark oak, with a high
mantelpiece, elaborately carved in the same wood, with groups of dead
game and flowers, and a few choice pictures let into the panels,--upon
an easy-chair, th