"It is needless to mention to you, Mr. Hardcastle," added Sinclair, "the inducements I had for suppressing those resolutions from appearing, which, as a man, and as the guardian and only prop of an injured sister, it became me to adopt. To comfort and to sooth was my business whilst I remained with her; and her spirits relieved from the oppressive secret with me, became more composed. In the third week of the four which I was permitted to be absent from my vessel, then undergoing some necessary repairs, we were one morning surprised into a state of more imminent danger to Margaret's life than any she had hitherto sustained. A double letter was delivered to my mother by the servant-maid, in my sister's presence. She saw the address, and uttering a faint scream, instantly fainted. The contents of Philip's letter will better please you, than a description of the alarm which it produced," added Sinclair smiling. "To my mother he recommends the utmost caution in the delivery of the one enclosed 'to his beloved wife, to his long lost and only blessing.' To Margaret he writes with incoherent joy. His brother Oliver was stiled 'his saving angel,' 'his more than father:' 'Providence in rescuing him from the blackest treachery, had in its mercy, he confidently trusted, preserved her. She could not, it was not possible that she could have believed him a faithless villain, unless the same wickedness which had been employed to destroy him, had reached her.' This letter concluded with ample instructions, to repair immediately to London; where his brother's agent would receive her, and provide for her immediate passage to him. An unlimited credit on this gentleman, with a draft for two hundred pounds on a banker at Edinburgh, were inclosed, with a positive injunction written by the good old man, to take care of herself as well as of the _dear infant_: to bring with her a female servant, qualified to be useful to her, as well as the nurse; and to be heedful about _fashions_, he having promised some of the girls, who had been unsuccessfully employed in setting their caps at Philip, the pattern of the one which had gained his heart. Poor Margaret on reading this passage forgot for a time her joy; but the hurry of the moment and my presence, checked her useless lamentations. My duty was prescribed. I was resolved never to lose sight of her till she was in her husband's arms. When in London I made some inquiries respecting this Flamall. From what I could collect from Margaret relative to her husband's opinion of this _worthy_ uncle, I made no doubt of his having been the cause of all the mischief. The character he bears in London justifies me in this suspicion; for I was informed, that he had the talents of a swindler, and the impudence to face any danger but the frown of an honest man. I shall put this to the test whenever we meet."--"You would do much, better," observed I, "to turn him over to those as