Be yours the task he assign'd me.--Go instantly to the friends you revere;--go to Mr. and Mrs. Powis, the poor unfortunate parents.--Abroad they were to you as tender relations;--in England, your first returns of gratitude will be mournful.--You have seen Miss Powis:--it could be no other than that lovely creature whom you met so accidentally at ----: the likeness she bore to her father startled you. She was then going with Mr. Jenkings into Oxfordshire:--you admired her;--but had you known her mind, how would you have felt for Darcey! Be cautious, tender, and circumspect, in your sad undertaking.--Go first to the old steward's, about a mile from the Abbey; if he is not return'd, break it to his wife and son.--They will advise, they will assist you, in the dreadful affair;--I hope the poor old gentleman has not proceeded farther than London.--Write the moment you have seen the family; write every melancholy particular: my mind is only fit for such gloomy recitals.--Farewel! I go to my dying friend. Yours, MOLESWORTH. LETTER XXX. Captain RISBY to the Honourable GEORGE MOLESWORTH, _Barford Abbey_. What is the sight of thousands slain in the field of battle, compar'd with the scene I am just escap'd from!--How can I be circumstantial!--where am I to begin!--whose distress shall I paint first!--can there be precedence in sorrow! What a weight will human nature support before it sinks!--The distress'd inhabitants of this house are still alive; it is proclaim'd from every room by dreadful groans.--You sent me on a raven's message:--like that ill-boding bird I flew from house to house, afraid to croak my direful tidings. By your directions I went to the steward's;--at the gate stood my dear friends, Mr. and Mrs. Powis, arm in arm.--I thought I should have sunk;--I thought I should have died instantly.--I was turning my horse to go back, and leave my black errand to be executed by another. They were instantly at my side;--a hand was seiz'd by each,--and the words Risby!--captain Risby!--ecchoed in my ears.--What with their joyous welcomes,--and transported countenances, I felt as if a flash of lightning had just darted on my head.--Mrs. Powis first perceiv'd the alteration and ask'd if I was well;--if any thing had happen'd to give me concern? Certainly there has, said Mr. Powis, or _you_ are not the same man you _was_, Risby.--It is true, Sir, return'd I;--it is true, I am not _so_ happy as when I last saw _you_;--my mind is disagreeably situated;--could I receive joy, it would be in knowing this amiable woman to be Mrs. Powis. You both surprise and affect us, replied he.