Produced by Mark C. Orton, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive) MYSTERY AND CONFIDENCE: _A TALE._ BY ELIZABETH PINCHARD. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON: PRINTED FOR HENRY COLBURN, PUBLIC LIBRARY, CONDUIT-STREET, HANOVER-SQUARE, AND SOLD BY GEORGE GOLDIE, EDINBURGH, AND JOHN CUMMING, DUBLIN. 1814. B. CLARKE, Printer, Well-Street, London. ADVERTISEMENT. It having been suggested to the Author of the following Tale, that its principal event may perhaps be thought somewhat too romantic and improbable, she begs to observe, that it is founded upon a fact well known, and not so long past as not to be in the recollection of many persons now alive, and particularly those in the higher circles. MYSTERY AND CONFIDENCE. CHAP. I. Due westward, fronting to the green, A rural portico was seen, Where Ellen's hand had taught to twine The ivy and Idean vine; The clematis, the favor'd flow'r, Which boasts the name of virgin's bow'r. LADY OF THE LAKE. At the foot of one of the most romantic mountains in North Wales, about a mile from the coast of Carnarvonshire, stands the little village of Llanwyllan: there, amongst trees which seemed coeval with the dwelling, was a very large farm-house, the residence of Farmer Powis. Its high chimneys, and neatly white-washed walls, rendered it a pleasing object to those who travelled on the high-road, about a mile off, which led to the next market-town, if high-road that might be called which merely served to facilitate the journies of the neighbouring farmers' wives to market and back again, or those of the curate, who served the churches in the immediate vicinity. The hand of native taste had removed a few branches from the immense trees which shaded this rural dwelling, and by that means afforded to the inhabitants a view of the road, the spire of the village church, and two or three natural rills of water, which, falling from the adjacent hills, increased the beauty of the scene. At this dwelling a traveller arrived on the evening of a day which had been intensely hot, in the summer of 18--: the dust which covered his shoes, and almost concealed the colour of his coat, declared him a pedestrian; probably, therefore, of inferior rank; yet, under the shade which fatigue had thrown over his features, might be discerned a fine and interesting countenance; and when at the door of the farm-house, where Powis sat inhaling the mixed fumes of his evening pipe, and the fragrance of a fine honeysuckle which entwined around the porch, he inquired the nearest way to----, the tones of his voice, and the fineness of his accent, would, to a practised ear, have proclaimed a man