“A fever and strong delirium seized me, and my life was despaired of. At length nature, overpowered with fatigue, gave way to the salutary power of rest, and a quiet slumber of some hours restored me to reason, though the extreme weakness of my frame prevented my feeling my distress so acutely as I otherwise should.
“The first object that struck me on awaking was Lucy sitting by my bedside; her pale countenance and sable dress prevented my inquiries for poor George: for the letter I had received from him was the first thing that occurred to my memory. By degrees the rest returned: I recollected being arrested, but could no ways account for being in this apartment, whither they had conveyed me during my illness.
“I was so weak as to be almost unable to speak. I pressed Lucy’s hand, and looked earnestly round the apartment in search of another dear object.
“ ‘Where is your mother?’ said I, faintly.
“The poor girl could not answer: she shook her head in expressive silence; and throwing herself on the bed, folded her arms about me and burst into tears.
“ ‘What! both gone?’ said I.
“ ‘Both,’ she replied, endeavoring to restrain her emotions: ‘but they are happy, no doubt.’ ”
Here Mr. Eldridge paused: the recollection of the scene was too painful to permit him to proceed.
IV
Change of Fortune
“It was some days,” continued Mr. Eldridge, recovering himself, “before I could venture to inquire the particulars of what had happened during my illness: at length I assumed courage to ask my dear girl how long her mother and brother had been dead: she told me that the morning after my arrest, George came home early to inquire after his mother’s health, stayed with them but a few minutes, seemed greatly agitated at parting, but gave them strict charge to keep up their spirits, and hope everything would turn out for the best. In about two hours after, as they were sitting at breakfast, and endeavoring to strike out some plan to attain my liberty, they heard a loud rap at the door, which Lucy, running to open, she met the bleeding body of her brother, borne in by two men, who had lifted him from a litter, on which they had brought him from the place where he fought. Her poor mother, weakened by illness and the struggles of the preceding night, was not able to support this shock; gasping for breath, her looks wild and haggard, she reached the apartment where they had carried her dying son. She knelt by the bedside; and taking his cold hand: ‘My poor boy,’ said she, ‘I will not be parted from thee: husband! son! both at once lost. Father of mercies, spare me!’ She fell into a strong convulsion, and expired in about two hours. In the meantime, a surgeon had dressed George’s wounds; but they were in such a situation as to bar the smallest hopes of recovery. He never was sensible from the time he was brought home, and died that evening in the arms of his sister.
“Late as it was when this event took place, my affectionate Lucy insisted on coming to me. ‘What must he feel,’ said she, ‘at our apparent neglect, and how shall I inform him of the afflictions with which it has pleased Heaven to visit us?’
“She left the care of the dear departed ones to some neighbors, who had kindly come in to comfort and assist her; and on entering the house where I was confined, found me in the situation I have mentioned.
“How she supported herself in these trying moments I know not: Heaven no doubt was with her; and her anxiety to preserve the life of one parent in some measure abated her affliction for the loss of the other.
“My circumstances were greatly embarrassed, my acquaintances few, and those few utterly unable to assist me. When my wife and son were committed to their kindred earth, my creditors seized my house and furniture, which, not being sufficient to discharge all their demands, detainers were lodged against me. No friend stepped forward to my relief; from the grave of her mother, my beloved Lucy followed an almost dying father to this melancholy place.
“Here we have been nearly a year and a half. My half-pay I have given up to satisfy my creditors, and my child supports me by her industry: sometimes by fine needlework, sometimes by painting. She leaves me every night, and goes to a lodging near the bridge; but returns in the morning to cheer me with her smiles, and bless me by her duteous affection. A lady once offered her an asylum in her family; but she would not leave me. ‘We are all the world to each other,’ said she. ‘I thank God I have health and spirits to improve the talents with which nature has endowed me; and I trust, if I employ them in the support of a beloved parent, I shall not be thought an unprofitable servant. While he lives, I pray for strength to pursue my employment; and when it pleases Heaven to take one of us, may it give the survivor resignation to bear the separation as we ought: till then I will never leave him.’ ”
“But where is this inhuman persecutor?” said Temple.
“He has been abroad ever since,” replied the old man; “but he has left orders with his lawyer never to give up the note until the utmost farthing is paid.”
“And how much is the amount of your debts in all?” said Temple.
“Five hundred pounds,” he replied.
Temple started; it was more than he expected.
“But something must be done,” said he: “that sweet maid must not wear out her life in a prison. I will see you again tomorrow, my friend,” said he, shaking Eldridge’s hand: “keep up your
