extremely to pass a month with her: my heart
yielded too easily to her request; but I had courage to resist my own
wishes, as well as her solicitations; and shall set out in three days
for Berkshire: I have, however, promised to go with them to-morrow, on
a party to Richmond, which Mr. Temple was so obliging as to propose on
my account.

Late as the season is, there is one more ship going to Quebec, which
sails to-morrow.

You shall hear from me again in a few days by the packet.

Adieu! my dearest friend!
Your faithful
Emily Montague.

Surely it will not be long before Rivers arrives; you, my dear
Bell, will judge what must be my anxiety till that moment.

LETTER 163.

To Captain Fermor, at Silleri.

Dover, July 24, eleven o'clock.

I am arrived, my dear friend, after a passage agreable in itself;
but which my fears for Emily made infinitely anxious and painful: every
wind that blew, I trembled for her; I formed to myself ideal dangers
on her account, which reason had not power to dissipate.

We had a very tumultuous head-sea a great part of the voyage, though
the wind was fair; a certain sign there had been stormy weather, with a
contrary wind. I fancied my Emily exposed to those storms; there is no
expressing what I suffered from this circumstance.

On entering the channel of England, we saw an empty boat, and some
pieces of a wreck floating; I fancied it part of the ship which
conveyed my lovely Emily; a sudden chillness seized my whole frame, my
heart died within me at the sight: I had scarce courage, when I landed,
to enquire whether she was arrived.

I asked the question with a trembling voice, and had the transport
to find the ship had passed by, and to hear the person of my Emily
described amongst the passengers who landed; it was not easy to mistake
her.

I hope to see her this evening: what do I not feel from that dear
hope!

Chance gives me an opportunity of forwarding this by New York; I
write whilst my chaise is getting ready.

Adieu! yours,
Ed. Rivers.

I shall write to my dear little Bell as soon as I get to town. There
is no describing what I felt at first seeing the coast of England: I
saw the white cliffs with a transport mixed with veneration; a
transport, which, however, was checked by my fears for the dearer part
of myself.

My chaise is at the door.

Adieu!
Your faithful, &c.
Ed. Rivers.

LETTER 1