 to shew him I had played upon his wounded feelings. Revived with the most vague and distant hope, he impatiently drove me away on a search my own soul foreboded to be fruitless. I even debated after I set out, whether I should not loiter the time away in England till I could decently return from my

imaginary peregrination, when a dream, more pointed and singular than that I had feigned, awakened in myself those hopes I had communicated to my Lord: but I will not call it a dream, since, surely the event proves it a visitation.—Oh, gracious God! what joy will my return pour into the hearts that now ach for either! How pure will be the satisfaction derived from their acknowledgments!"
During this long recital, my tumultuous feelings pursued my love through every desperate situation.—My woestruck heart hardly dared to breathe, till finding him at last free and well, it gave a deep sigh, and respired without pain. Essex insulted, endangered, imprisoned;—I cast my eyes round those gloomy walls, I so late thought my prison, and raising them to heaven, adored the power who there confined me, unconscious of the conflicts I could not have supported. Ah, Essex! what were the warring elements, the midnight

wreck, the long, long solitude, the dire uncertainty I bad so bitterly bewailed, to the single idea of seeing thee one moment at the mercy of Elizabeth, one moment in the power of thy enemies! And yet, for me thy generous soul lost all sense of even these inflictions; pride, vanity, and grandeur, in vain assailed thee: a true and noble passion beat unalterably at thy heart, condensing in one favourite sorrow, those mighty powers which once fulfilled every various and active duty of humanity.
But this was not a moment for impassioned reveries. Lady Southampton recalled my attention to the present moment; and we employed it in informing Tracey of the name, character, and situation, we had thought it prudent to assume, as well as of those of our host. Scarce was he master of these important particulars, ere the Laird of Dornock returned, and broke in upon us with an abruptness and anger he took no pains to disguise. The sight of an English

officer a little abated his wrath. Tracey, according to the plan we had agreed on, called Lady Southampton his sister, and with every testimony of gratitude for the hospitable shelter our host had so long given us, offered a recompence still more agreeable; with which happily he had had the forecast to provide himself.—While the Scot stood
