ne or
the other considerable, it was deemed advisable that they should separate;
and the priest betook himself to other places of retreat known to him,
whilst my lord passed over from Bristol into Ireland, in which kingdom
King James had a Court and an army. My lord was but a small addition to
this; bringing, indeed, only his sword and the few pieces in his pocket;
but the king received him with some kindness and distinction in spite of
his poor plight, confirmed him in his new title of marquis, gave him a
regiment, and promised him further promotion. But titles or promotion were
not to benefit him now. My lord was wounded at the fatal battle of the
Boyne, flying from which field (long after his master had set him an
example), he lay for a while concealed in the marshy country near to the
town of Trim, and more from catarrh and fever caught in the bogs than from
the steel of the enemy in the battle, sank and died. May the earth lie
light upon Thomas of Castlewood! He who writes this must speak in charity,
though this lord did him and his two grievous wrongs: for one of these he
would have made amends, perhaps, had life been spared him; but the other
lay beyond his power to repair, though 'tis to be hoped that a greater
Power than a priest has absolved him of it. He got the comfort of this
absolution, too, such as it was: a priest of Trim writing a letter to my
lady to inform her of this calamity.

But in those days letters were slow of travelling, and our priest's took
two months or more on its journey from Ireland to England: where, when it
did arrive, it did not find my lady at her own house; she was at the
king's house of Hexton Castle when the letter came to Castlewood, but it
was opened for all that by the officer in command there.

Harry Esmond well remembered the receipt of this letter, which Lockwood
brought in as Captain Westbury and Lieutenant Trant were on the green
playing at bowls, young Esmond looking on at the sport, or reading his
book in the arbour.

"Here's news for Frank Esmond," says Captain Westbury; "Harry, did you
ever see Colonel Esmond?" And Captain Westbury looked very hard at the boy
as he spoke.

Harry said he had seen him but once when he was at Hexton, at the ball
there.

"And did he say anything?"

"He said what I don't care to repeat," Harry answered. For he was now
twelve years of age: he knew what his birth was and the disgrace of it;
and he felt no love towards the man who had m