the vilest
instances of unprovoked ingratitude I had ever met with. As we set
ruminating upon schemes of vengeance, Mr. Burchell himself entered and
sat down.

"Do you know this, sir--this pocket-book?" said I.

"Yes, sir," returned he, with a face of impenetrable assurance.

"And do you know this letter?"

"Yes; it was I that wrote that letter."

"And how could you so basely presume to write this letter?"

"And how came you," replied he, with looks of unparalleled effrontery,
"so basely to presume to open this letter?"

I could scarcely govern my passion. "Ungrateful wretch!" I cried.
"Begone, and no longer pollute my dwelling with thy baseness!"

So saying, I threw him his pocket-book, which he took up with a smile,
and left us astonished at the serenity of his assurance.

_III.--The Elopement_

The visits of Mr. Thornhill now became more frequent and longer; but all
the schemes of Olivia and her mother to bring him to a declaration came
to nothing. And although Olivia considered his fine sentiments as
instances of the most exalted passion, it seemed to me plain that they
had more of love than matrimony in them.

One evening as I sat by the fireside, thanking Heaven for tranquillity,
health, and competence, and thinking myself happier than the greatest
monarch upon earth, I noticed that Olivia was absent.

"Where is my darling Olivia?" I asked. Just as I spoke, my boy Dick came
running in.

"Oh, papa, papa, she is gone from us; she is gone from us for ever!"

"Gone, child?"

"Yes; she is gone off with two gentlemen in a postchaise, and one of
them kissed her. And she cried very much, but he persuaded her, and she
went into the chaise."

"Now, then," cried I, "may Heaven's everlasting fury light upon him and
his! Thus to rob me of my child! Bring me my pistols; I'll pursue the
traitor. Old as I am, he shall find I can sting him yet--the perfidious
villain!"

My poor wife caught me in her arms.

"Indeed, sir," said my son Moses, "your rage is too violent."

"I did not curse him, child, did I?"

"Indeed, sir, you did."

"Then may Heaven forgive me and him. But it is not--it is not a small
distress that can wring tears from these old eyes. My child--to undo my
darling! May confusion seize--Heaven forgive me! What am I about to say?
Had she but died! My son, bring hither my Bible and my staff. I will
pursue her; and though I cannot save her from shame, I may prevent the
continuance of her i