Ellen left him, and with a slow and heavy step she for the last time mounted the oak staircase. She went to the nursery, and solemnly taking the child away, she carried it into the room which was her own. Bolting all the doors, she knelt as she held the infant in her arms, and offered up for it prayers as fervent and as pure as ever ascended to the throne of grace. Then kissing its eyes, its forehead, its lips, “May the God of mercy bless thee, my babe! may He bless thee with virtue, principle, rectitude! whatever may be thy fate in this world, may He bring thee to that place where the wicked cease from troubling, where the weary are at rest!” She rose from her knees, and carried the child back to the nurse. In a calm and steady voice, she bade her, as she valued her peace of mind here and hereafter, to do her duty by the infant; and begging God to bless them both, she steadily went down the stairs, and without looking to the right or to the left, passed through the hall. When she reached the door, she paused, and turning round, she saw the servants who, half wonder, half sympathy, had collected at the different doors, and were pressing forward. She tried to speak—her voice failed her; she made another effort, and at length uttered,— “You have all done your duties by me, and may God reward you for it!” A burst of tears and sobs, they scarcely themselves knew wherefore, was all the answer they could make. Henry supported her into the carriage. Her elder children and their attendants entered the other, and she was rapidly conveyed from a spot where she had endured the two extremes, of mortal bliss and mortal woe. CHAPTER X. En songe, souhaid, et pensée, Vous voye chacun jour de sepmaine Combien qu’estes de moi loingtaine Belle très loyaument amée. Du tout vous ay m’amour donnée; Vous en povez être certaine, Ma seule dame souveraine, De mon las cœur moult desirée En songe, souhaid, et pensée. CHARLES DUC D’ORLEANS, A.D. 1446. How did poor Hamilton meanwhile pass the time of his weary exile? It would have been wretchedness to him to have been recognised, to have been obliged to answer the usual inquiries after his wife and children, with which a married man is invariably greeted; to endure all the common courtesies of life. Yet his acquaintance was so general, his name so well known, from having on many occasions borne a prominent part in politics, and from having lived much in the world, that he could scarcely find a spot where he would not be exposed to them. He therefore, under an assumed name, retired to the most desolate fishing village he could find in the neighbourhood of M——, and passed his days wandering upon the shore, and mixing with none but the fishers, who plied their dangerous trade upon the wild Welsh coast.