Frank Mildmay; Or, the Naval OfficerMarryat, Frederick
History
Frank Mildmay; Or, the Naval Officer
Marryat, Frederick
Great Britain -- History, Naval -- 19th century -- Fiction; Great Britain. Royal Navy -- Officers -- Fiction; Sea stories
In a moment the mystery was unravelled, and conviction flashed in my
face like the priming of a musket. Guilty and convicted on the clearest
evidence, I had nothing left for it but to throw myself on her mercy;
but while I stood undecided, and unknowing what to do, Mr Somerville
entered, and welcomed me with kind, but cool hospitality. Seeing Emily
in tears, and my father's letter in her hand, he knew that an
_eclaircissement_ had taken place, or was in progress. In this
situation, candour, and an honest confession that I felt a _mauvaise
honte_ in disclosing my passion to my father, would undoubtedly have
been my safest course; but my right trusty friend, the devil, stepped in
to my assistance, and suggested deceit, or a continuation of that chain
by which he had long since bound me, and not one link of which he took
care should ever be broken; and, fortunately for me, this plan answered
at the time better than candour.
"I must acknowledge, sir," said I, "that appearances are against me. I
can only trust to your patient hearing while I state the real facts.
Allow me first to say, that my father's observations are hardly
warranted by the conversation which took place; and if you will please,
in the first place to consider that that very conversation originated in
my expressing a wish and intention of coming down to see you, and to
produce to your daughter the memento so carefully guarded during my long
absence, you must perceive that there is an incongruity in my conduct
difficult to explain; but still, through all these mazes and windings, I
trust that truth and constancy will be found at the bottom. You may
probably laugh at the idea, but I really felt jealous of my father's
praises so lavishly bestowed on Miss Somerville; and not supposing he
was aware of my attachment, I began to fear he had pretensions of his
own. He is a widower, healthy, and not old; and it appeared to me, that
he only wanted my admiration to justify his choice of a stepmother for
myself and sister. Thus, between love for Miss Somerville, and respect
for my father, I scarcely knew how to act. That I should for one moment
have felt jealous of my father I now acknowledge with shame; yet
labouring under the erroneous supposition of his attachment to an object
which had been the only one of my adoration, I could not make up my mind
to a disclosure which I feared would have renewed our differences and
produced the most insuperable bars to our future reconciliation. This
thought burned in my brain, and urged the speed of the jaded
post-horses. If you will examine the drivers, they will tell you that
the whole way from town they have been stimulated by the rapping of a
Spanish dollar on the glass of the chaise. I dreaded my father getting
the start of me; and busy fancy painted him to my heated imagination
kneeling at the feet of my beloved Emily. Condemn me not, therefore,
too harshly; only allow me the same lenient judgment which you exercised
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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