again. John
Wyatt will attend you."

"I want no refreshment," said Edmund; "and I cannot eat or drink till I
have told my business to your honour."

"Well then," said Sir Philip, "come along with me." He took the youth by
the hand, and led him into another parlour, leaving his friends in great
surprise, what this young man's errand could be; John Wyatt told them
all that he knew relating to Edmund's birth, character, and situation.

When Sir Philip had seated his young friend, he listened in silence to
the surprising tale he had to tell him. Edmund told him briefly the most
remarkable circumstances of his life, from the time when he first
saw and liked him, till his return from France; but from that era,
he related at large every thing that had happened, recounting every
interesting particular, which was imprinted on his memory in strong and
lasting characters. Sir Philip grew every moment more affected by the
recital; sometimes he clasped his hands together, he lifted them up to
heaven, he smote his breast, he sighed, he exclaimed aloud; when Edmund
related his dream, he breathed short, and seemed to devour him with
attention; when he described the fatal closet, he trembled, sighed,
sobbed, and was almost suffocated with his agitation. But when he
related all that passed between his supposed mother and himself, and
finally produced the jewels, the proofs of his birth, and the death of
his unfortunate mother, he flew to him, he pressed him to his bosom, he
strove to speak, but speech was for some minutes denied. He wept aloud;
and, at length, his words found their way in broken exclamations.

"Son of my dearest friend! Dear and precious relic of a noble house!
child of Providence! the beloved of heaven! welcome! thrice welcome to
my arms! to my heart! I will be thy parent from henceforward, and thou
shalt be indeed my child, my heir! My mind told me from the first moment
I beheld thee, that thou wert the image of my friend! my heart then
opened itself to receive thee, as his offspring. I had a strange
foreboding that I was to be thy protector. I would then have made
thee my own; but heaven orders things for the best; it made thee the
instrument of this discovery, and in its own time and manner conducted
thee to my arms. Praise be to God for his wonderful doings towards the
children of men! every thing that has befallen thee is by his direction,
and he will not leave his work unfinished; I trust that I shall be his