Eugene Trevor remained for some time at Montrevor, then returned to the world, to find the general impression apparently continuing as it was before, concerning the derangement and consequent confinement of his brother. Then it was deemed advisable to report that the unhappy young man was so far recovered, that he had gone abroad under proper guardianship; and the world, too busy with its own affairs to keep up any long-sustained interest or inquiry into the fate and fortune of those removed out of their light, were contented to suppose this to be the case; and when some years had run their course, as we have seen, and nothing more had been seen or heard of the unhappy Eustace Trevor, many gave him up as lost for ever to society, and Eugene, gay, prosperous, and invested with all importance and privilege in his father's house, had soon assumed in the eyes of the world a certain--though it might be somewhat equivocal--position as heir, under some few restrictions, to the property and estates of Montrevor. CHAPTER XXI. Fain would I fly the haunts of men; I seek to shun, not hate mankind. My breast requires the sullen glen, Whose gloom may suit a darkened mind. Oh that to me the wings were given Which bear the turtle to her nest! Then would I cleave the vault of Heaven, To flee away, and be at rest. BYRON. On the borders of a lake in one of the wildest and most remote parts of North Wales, stands a rude inn, the resort, during the proper season of the year, of those who for the sake of the fishing the lake affords, are content to put up with the homely fare and simple accommodation it affords. But when that time has passed away--when the calm, glittering lake is deformed by constant rains, and lashed into fury by the driving storms of winter--when those majestic mountains have exchanged their ever-varying glories for mists and blackness, have donned their wintry garb, and are in character with wintry skies--there cannot be imagined a more desolate and dreary scene than that spot presents; and the inn, of course, stands comparatively tenantless. Yet for three whole winter months, a gentleman of whom none of nobler appearance had ever perhaps honoured it with their presence, made that humble hostelry his abode. Alone he came, and alone he remained. He dispatched or received no communication from beyond those mist-covered mountains which surrounded him; but little did those simple, unsophisticated people care to wonder or inquire. Unimportuned by curiosity, the visitor pursued his solitary existence, climbing those bleak and trackless mountains, or tossing upon the stormy lake. No sound of human voice, but in the uncouth and unknown language of the country, scarcely every falling on his ear.