CHAPTER III.

The Strangers' account of themselves, and the kind providence of their arrival to all the parties explained.

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WHAT followed after this violent shriek I hardly know, for all seemed to be confusion to me-one and another were embracing each other, neither could I understand whether the tears which I saw were tokens of joy or sorrow, for I had never witnessed a scene like this;the venerable father groaned—the daughter sobbed— and the mother remained long insensible, and at length when she opened her eyes, she shrieked again and sunk on the breast of the young man who had first flown to her. After a while, however, she spoke, and looking up in his face, "My William," she said, can it be! Oh no, no; it cannot, my old eyes deceive me, and yet it is my William, my long lost William; my child whom I have mourned as dead so long; God be praised," she added, "but (clasping her hands and looking upwards), but he knows my gratitude; words cannot express it," and she became so agitated, so hysterical, that they were obliged to carry her into the inner room, where she was with difficulty kept from another fainting fit, by the application of water to her temples, and open windows, and every thing else which could be devised.

In the mean time the whole party were becoming more composed, and I was enabled to make out that the two young men whose arrival had so affected the family, were no other than William Finchley, whom we had all supposed to have perished some years since, and James Wilmot, the husband of Martha; but there was a third person, and this person was dressed as a gentleman, was a middle aged man, and looked as if he was no uninterested spectator of the present scene. had taken Mr. Finchley's great chair in the kitchen, and there had sat taking now and then a pinch of snuff quite at his ease, till at length seeing Mrs. Wilmot so much recovered from her agitation as to be able to give some attention to ordinary things, he took two gold pieces from his pocket, and showing them to her, requested

He

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her to go to the next inn and order as good a supper for eight persons as that money would fetch; " and let it be brought here," he said, "for we will have one meal together, at least, before we part; and mind," he added,

that we have no salt meat, or ship provisions, but good Europe beef-steaks and fresh potatoes; let us have some porter too, and English cheese; none of your Dutch pine-apple, but good double Gloucester, if any is to be had."

I heard all this, and saw Mrs. Wilmot go out with her husband, and could not help wondering who this good gentleman might be, who called about him so decidedly and yet so good-humouredly; but I soon forgot him, for my attention was again drawn to William Finchley, who being seated by his mother, and holding her hand, was telling her how he had been saved from the waves after he had fallen from the ship's side, by a small country craft belonging to Madras, adding many other circumstances to his story, of great interest to his parents, and to all who heard it.

William's narrative was not, however, half finished, when it was interrupted by the reappearance of Wilmot and his wife, followed by two waiters, bearing trays, and then what a bustle were we all in, in removing the teacups, setting out a large table which had long stood disregarded under the kitchen shelves, and putting all things in order for the supper; while the old gentleman above-mentioned gave his directions and called about him in such a manner, that it was no longer even in Mrs. Finchley's power not to notice him.

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Sir,” said she, “I beg your pardon, I hope, however, that you will excuse me, but I did not observe-"

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Ay, ay," said the gentleman, "I thought as much, you actually did not see me; I thought how it was, very well, very well; I am half-offended, however, and yet you ought to be very thankful to me, for had it not been for me you would not have seen your sons for some weeks to come, I can tell you that, and they must be off with me in a day or two for London, but they will not be long away.

"Bless you, sir," said Mrs. Finchley, "bless you, my dear good sir,-"

"Oh, I am a dear good sir, now," replied the old gentleman, smiling; "but mind this, my good woman, you never saw me till you began to smell the beef-steaks,

and here they are smoking instantly set himself down that we should all place o that we would cut away and

The gentleman had fallen giving thanks, nevertheless be bribed, even by the smok ample; but rising up, and ca "My children," he said, "if for this our happy and unho table, we are undoubtedly Oh, my God, never I trust, m for the happiness of this b thus spoken, we were all dire notwithstanding our late viol to our repast, which was su us had tasted for some years

The stranger, in the mean t self thoroughly, and when h his appetite, "Mrs. Finchley anxious to know who I may b you without invitation for much as once asked me to wal I was in; well, but I won't be if you are not civiller the n trouble you again."

"Sir, my good sir," said M I meant no manner of offence and am so still, that I hardly a-doing."

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Very excusable, very excu tleman, "such things as sons have been dead three years, do I believe I must pass over you this once, because I know yo but now for my name, if you w must tell you it, as well as my asked.

board: no matter what I suffered there, not half what I deserved; however, I went through many adventures, and was in the China Seas for several years; at length, however, I got a footing in Bengal, entered into some little mercantile concerns, married a woman who brought me some lacks, and am now as rich a merchant in my line as any one in India.

"For many years I heard nothing of my own family, though I was so happy as to have written and received a kind answer from my father, before his death, but I knew nothing of my brother's history till I met with your son, Mrs. Finchley, at Calcutta, and hearing that he was a native of Falmouth, I questioned him about my poor brother; heard he was dead, and had left a daughter, who was then actually under his aunt's care.'

Mr. Townley had no reason to complain of want of attention to his story, as he proceeded, for we all looked eagerly at him, though no one spoke.

"As soon as I heard of my brother's child," continued he, "I resolved to come to England, and adopt her, if I could find her, for I have never had any child of my own; and accordingly I took my passage in the same ship with your son-in-law and son, and this evening, as you know, am arrived here, where, by-the-by, I can't boast much of my reception," added he, with a smile, "for there was not one among you who as much as said, Welcome to England, sir."

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Oh, sir," said Mrs. Finchley, "you must please to forget that; if you had intended for us to have made much of you, you should not have sent our dear William before you :" and the good woman in this part of her speech was unable to refrain herself from throwing her arms again around the sun-burnt, yet fine youth, who sat by her side.

"Come, come, Mrs. Finchley, do try to forget that wild boy, and pay some attention to your guest," said Mr. Townley; "and now, my good lady, can you tell me any thing of my niece? where is the little girl?" and he looked at Anna and me, and perhaps seeing something in our countenances which indicated more than he quite understood, "Surely," he said, "surely she is not present;" adding, as he looked at Anna, "my tender lily, surely you can't be my niece! No, I am mistaken, I see; then it must be the little dimpled one who clings so fast to Mrs. Finchley; tell me, my ex

cellent woman, is this daughter?"

She is, sir, yes, she is child is Ermina Townley, deed the brother of Mr. J guess how destitute the p to have been reduced so s "A happy, happy home, Finchley; and I whisper away from you, my dear, d

My uncle seemed instan state of the case; for he child, don't make yoursel better acquainted by-andlittle niece, and give me on and now back again to Mrs called for another draugh money to pay for the suppe next morning, walked off to behind to recover ourselv into which the various e thrown us.

The proposed voyage to IndiaFinchley Family-Ermina and A the subject of their conversation.

THE next morning my u Finchley, and had a long co which I was called, and asked him to India. The idea of le going with a total stranger, v therefore answered that I w was.

I was then reasoned with me many fine things, among w and horses, if I would go with I would go if I might take An out; "But perhaps," said my Anna would not go with you.'