you wish, I certainly cannot
oblige you to return to your mother--but here you cannot be till you
have previously obtained her approbation."

"Recited respecting me, by Mr. Talton!" repeated Sir Henry, rising
indignantly. "It is well, Captain Howard!" He was leaving the cabin,
but, turning at the door, regarded the Captain with a look expressive of
anguish and disappointment: the tear trembled in his eye--he
faltered--"When the child of Ellenor Worton needed protection, my father
did not refuse it! Edward--Ellenor!"

He laid his hand on his breast,--burst into tears--and rushed in an
instant from their sight.

Surprise, approaching to agony, for a moment bereft the Captain of
utterance; but, recovering, he exclaimed--

"He named my Ellenor and her child! Fly, Frederick, and bring him back.
Oh God! Could he give me information of them--!"

"Be calm, Howard," said Mr. Talton. "Sir Henry, take my word, knows not
of your Ellenor."

"Why then did he name her?" asked the Captain, with quickness.

"That, I cannot say:" answered Mr. Talton: "but, so well acquainted as I
am with every concern of the late and present Sir Henry, the occurrence
he insinuates, could not possibly have escaped my knowledge."

At that moment Frederick re-entered with a letter for his uncle, which
Sir Henry had desired one of the men to deliver.

"It is from Ellenor!" said the Captain, attempting with a trembling
hand, but in vain, to open it. "Take it--read it, Frederick," he
continued; "I am so agitated I can scarcely support myself!"

Frederick obeyed, and read as follows:--

"After seventeen years silence, Ellenor Worton again addresses her
beloved Edward--addresses him whose idea has ever lived in her
heart; nor fears the world should tax her with indelicacy. It is
for a child of sorrow she writes! It is Ellenor sues--nor will
Edward refuse her boon!

"For reasons which I cannot explain, Sir Henry Corbet, the bearer
of this letter, is necessitated to withdraw from the guardianship
of his mother. His father sheltered your Ellenor and her child in
the hour of keen adversity. He has equally been our preserver! To
him I am indebted for the blessings I enjoy--to him, your son (Oh
Edward, can you forgive my hitherto concealing him from your
knowledge?) is beholden for a competency! Will my Edward repay the
obligation, by affording him an asylum? From him you may learn what