Henry Smeaton: A Jacobite Story of the Reign of George the First.James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
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Henry Smeaton: A Jacobite Story of the Reign of George the First.
James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
Jacobite Rebellion, 1715 -- Fiction
"Who have you got there? His face does not please me."
"It is, nevertheless, the face of a relation of yours," replied
Smeaton. "I will introduce him to you as soon as we are alone; but let
me see this packet. It may contain news of importance."
At the top of the first flight of steps were two good rooms, one of
which, on the right hand, was retained for the use of the young
nobleman; and here he found the packet which had been mentioned.
Breaking it open at once, he perceived that it contained two letters
for himself, and two for Richard Newark. Giving the latter instantly
to his young friend, he invited Somerville to seat himself before he
opened the letters which bore his own address, although one of them,
in a small delicate hand--more like that of a lady in the present day
than one of those times--seemed too precious to be long delayed. As
soon as he had shown this piece of attention to his guest, he
retreated into the window, and eagerly broke the seal of the letter
addressed as I have mentioned. He was not deceived. Emmeline's name
was at the bottom of the lines that were written upon the page; and,
with a beating heart, he read words which might well have come from a
more experienced mind or a less tender and affectionate heart. Yet
love and tenderness were evident throughout, as the contents may show.
"My beloved Husband,--I snatch a moment and an opportunity to write to
you, knowing what you must feel, but not knowing what you are doing.
Anxious as I am to hear where you are, and all that you can tell me of
your proceedings, I fondly believe that you are more anxious still to
hear of your Emmeline. I am in London, in a small lodging near the
Tower, at number thirty-two, in Tower Street, surrounded by the
servants of my cousin, Sir John Newark, and, as he believes, cut off
from all communication with other persons by their means. Amongst
them, however, is one planed there by her who has befriended us at Ale
Manor, and who has found means to assure me that he is devoted alone
to my service. He will contrive to convey this to Devonshire. The time
allowed me is but short.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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