Chapter III: Part 3

Philip was greatly surprised and agitated, when, after much unconnected wandering, Lord Robert said: "You, Augustus, always blamed me about that Philip Harley, and said you knew him to be an estimable youth, and that he had been hardly used through a prejudice I had against him; but what would you have thought, Augustus, had you seen him clench his hand and threaten your unhappy brother with personal ill-treatment, when he was too ill to defend himself from his violence?"

Philip blushed deeply when he heard this; for he remembered using this gesture in the vehemence of his last wrathful address to Lord Robert; and now that he found how ill he had been at that time, he felt doubly ashamed of having suffered himself to be so transported by passion.

From these self-reproaches he was again roused by Lord Robert's speaking; but he had wandered to a different subject, and evidently imagined himself at his own home, for he demanded "ices, peaches, and strawberries," in a tone of feverish impatience; and Philip was at a loss how to satisfy these cravings; but when at last Lord Robert mentioned "grapes," Philip remembered those that were ripening on the roof of the hut, and hastened to see if any were fit to eat; though his patient, in a tone of displeasure, called him to return and send a servant to execute his orders, for he did not choose to be left alone. This was, however, unavoidable; and in a moment he returned with a rich cluster, perfectly ripe. Lord Robert eagerly seized them, with an exclamation of joy; but he was reduced to such a state of weakness, that he was unable to convey them to his mouth; and resigning the cluster to Philip, begged him to feed him. Philip obeyed, and attended to all his whims with the greatest patience. At length, exhausted by the volubility of delirium, he sank again into a death-like stupor, in which he lay, without sense or motion, the whole of the night, and till the next day was far advanced.

Philip, who had continued to bathe his hands and face at intervals, perceived by the painful motion of his lips that he wanted something to drink. Philip raised his head, and supported it on his bosom, while he held to his lips a shell full of the juice of limes and grapes. Lord Robert drank this delicious beverage eagerly; then opening his eyes, which Philip thought would never again have unclosed, he looked up in his face, as if to thank him for the relief; and Philip saw by the expression of wonder and astonishment in those eyes, so lately fixed and rayless, that he knew him, and was no longer under the influence of delirium. A deep crimson mounted to his pallid cheek, as he said--"Harley, I don't deserve this kindness at _your_ hands:" and with a deep sigh he again relapsed into insensibility. The sound of his voice, and the manner in which he pronounced this short sentence, thrilled to Philip's heart; and he hung over him with a tender interest, watching the progress of his disorder with the most intense anxiety. Philip had been little accustomed to witness illness: he had scarcely ever watched by a sick-bed, with the exception of the illness of his sister, who had died; but death had laid so gentle a hand on her, that her decease rather resembled the withering of a flower than the passage of a mortal to the grave: far different from the terrific advances of a raging tropical fever, which brought Lord Robert, through stages of exquisite suffering, nearly to the eve of dissolution.

The sight of these sufferings had extinguished the last spark of animosity in Philip's bosom; and it was with feelings nearly allied to those with which he contemplated the death-bed of that beloved sister, that he awaited the termination of Lord Robert's disorder. That it would be fatal he doubted not, for he watched in vain for a second interval of reason; but day after day passed, without the slightest intermission of suffering; but the fever seemed rather to increase in violence, and his Lordship's wanderings from reason assumed a more gloomy character, in which the most unbounded expressions of self-reproach had a principal share. No longer petulant and impatient, he appeared sunk in the deepest despondency; and this turn in the disease alarmed Philip more than his most extravagant fits of raving. It was truly awful to see a fellow-creature, and, alas! a very erring one, on the brink of eternity, without a ray of reason being granted him to prepare to meet his great account. It then occurred to Philip, that many of the faults of which the unhappy sufferer accused himself, had been occasioned by his own pertinacity in throwing himself in his way, and provoking him to violent conduct; by that means setting his fiery temper in a blaze, and causing his evil passions to be ever uppermost, till they prompted him to commit those injuries for which he now suffered the most bitter remorse.

"Had I avoided him half as carefully as I sought him," exclaimed Philip, "he would soon have forgotten an individual so much beneath his own rank. I am accountable for many of his errors. True, he abused his power on board the Diomede; but how have I behaved since our residence on this island?"

Philip pursued these self-accusing reflections as he was kneeling by Lord Robert's side, and fanning him with the wing of a sea-fowl, which Neptune had brought him the day before. The weather had been intensely hot, and attended with thunder and lightning; but as the day declined, some heavy rain descended, which had the effect of cooling the burning earth. This salutary change produced an alteration in Lord Robert, who opening his eyes, gazed round him in indescribable astonishment. At last he said, "Where am I? How came I here?"

"Be composed, my Lord," said Philip, much agitated; for he had long dreaded the moment when Lord Robert would ask this question, and he had meditated to address such words to him as would soothe his proud feelings; but he found that he could not speak; he only regarded his Lordship with a troubled countenance, dropping the feathers with which, till now, he had continued to fan him.

"Harley," said Lord Robert, the flush of fever fading to a deadly paleness as he spoke, "I now comprehend my situation; cease to oppress me with this unmerited kindness!" Then speaking in a less collected manner: "No! it must not be! I have injured you too deeply! Go, leave the oppressor to die alone; I saw _you_ suffering, and did not pity you; and it is not fit for the merciless to receive mercy!"

He turned away his face, and covered it with his emaciated hands; but Philip knew, by the convulsive heaving of his bosom, that he was weeping. Philip, from a feeling of delicacy, withdrew to a little distance, to avoid the intrusive appearance of watching Lord Robert's emotions; and he feared to increase his agitation, or offend his proud spirit, by even offering a word of comfort. Yet his caution was unnecessary, for the tears Lord Robert shed were not those of humbled pride, but they were those of a broken and contrite spirit; they were such tears as would occasion joy in Heaven, for they were those of true penitence; and Lord Robert was not ashamed of indulging in them, neither did he seek to conceal their traces from Philip, when he turned his eyes towards him, and motioned him to approach.

"Harley," said he, "can you forgive me?"

"Ah, my Lord," said Philip, "I have to the full as much reason to ask your forgiveness. We have both erred, from the indulgence of an implacable temper; and if you repent of your offences as much as I have done of my trespasses against you, we may both be, in future, more acceptable in the eyes of our Heavenly Father, to whom 'hatred, malice, and all uncharitableness,' are most offensive."

"Harley," said his Lordship, "you are too generous! How could I so cruelly persecute one capable of such noble conduct!"

"Cease to accuse yourself, my Lord; you are too ill to continue this agitating conversation," said Philip, observing Lord Robert look very pale.

"No," returned Lord Robert; "I feel my thoughts begin to grow confused! This may be the last interval of reason vouchsafed me; and I would willingly make use of it to assure you that I die at peace with you, and blessing you; and may your last hours be sweetened by the remembrance of your generous conduct to your enemy! When I am no more, save a lock of my hair, and give it to my mother when you return to England, which you will soon have an opportunity of doing. Tell her, if I wished to live, it was to see her again, and to confess to my father that I had been guilty of prejudicing him against you, Harley, by misrepresenting the reason of our first quarrel, which was the cause of your being pressed. Tell me, sincerely, can you forgive me for that, Harley?"

"I can--I do!" replied Philip, approaching close to the couch; "and, in proof that your Lordship exchanges forgiveness with me, give me your hand." Lord Robert threw himself into his arms, and Philip felt his tears wet his bosom. Yet at that moment each felt happier than he had done for months before. But Philip became painfully anxious for the invalid, the violence of whose emotions brought on a fresh access of fever. He began again to talk wildly, and Philip strove in vain to repress his ravings, till at length he sank into a death-like stupor, scarcely giving any symptom of animation.

Philip now entertained the greatest apprehensions for his Lordship's life, and was himself surprised at the pain he felt at the idea of losing him. He had evinced such full and noble contrition for his errors, that Philip, forgetting all his injuries, wondered how he had ever borne a hatred so bitter against him. That hatred had, indeed, changed gradually into an affection so warm, that he was ready to impute to his own faulty temper the blame of all that had passed. "And, oh!" said he, as he hung over the couch where Lord Robert lay, apparently unconscious of his presence, "who could think that I, who now watch so anxiously every change of his pallid countenance, could once have taken delight in provoking him to fight with me, and then took a savage pleasure in aiming my blows at his face, and disfiguring his fine features with the marks of my violence? Ruffian that I was!"

Here a gentle pressure from the hand he held in his, convinced him that Lord Robert was sensible, and had heard this soliloquy. Philip started and coloured at this idea; and Lord Robert said in a faint voice:--

"If you, my dear Harley, so severely accuse yourself for what was a just retaliation for my unfeeling arrogance, what must be my feelings of self-condemnation for my conduct on board the Diomede, on which I cannot think without agony?"

"Never think of it again, my Lord," said Philip, to whom the appellation of "dear Harley" had given a sensation of the greatest pleasure; "let me beg you never again to agitate yourself by a painful remembrance of what is past: I would endure much to see you well and happy."

After some time, Philip succeeded in soothing his patient into some degree of composure; and at length he had the satisfaction of seeing him sink into a profound sleep. Then, being worn out with anxious watching and fatigue, he threw himself on the ground, and enjoyed a calm and refreshing slumber. When he awoke, it was about sunrise; and seeing Lord Robert still asleep, he went out to get a supply of fruit and turtle. On his return, he found Lord Robert awake and evidently better; for he was returning the caresses of Neptune, who certainly had deserved his fondness, for he had been almost as watchful and abstinent, and as attentive to his master's sufferings, as Philip himself. The patient extended his hand towards Philip as he entered, who hastened to him and inquired tenderly, "how long he had been awake, and how he found himself?"

"Long enough to miss you, and well enough to thank you for your unwearied kindness," said Lord Robert, with a melancholy smile. Philip respectfully took the hand that was extended towards him; and, after expressing his pleasure at seeing him so much recovered, began to busy himself in procuring him all the comforts in his power. Lord Robert, for the first time since his illness, was able to raise himself to wash his hands and face in some water which Philip brought him in a turtle-shell. After this grateful refreshment, he attempted with his pocket-comb to disentangle his ruffled and matted hair; but his hands trembled so much from weakness, that he sank exhausted on the couch. Philip took the comb from his hands, and with great care and patience succeeded in smoothing and reducing to their natural order these refractory ringlets. Lord Robert repeatedly bade him give himself no farther trouble, but take his knife and cut them off as well as he could. But Philip did not like to spoil the fine hair which Lord Robert had once been proud of; and had the Marchioness herself presided at this operation, it could not have been more tenderly performed than by the hands of this young sailor; and his patient appeared to derive great benefit from this attention to his personal comforts, though reduced to a state of infantine weakness.

Lord Robert now rapidly improved in health, and was soon enabled, with the assistance of Philip's arm, to walk in the Valley of Limes in the cool of the morning. Notwithstanding this improvement, however, Philip continued to attend on him with the most assiduous care; and even when he was in a state of convalescence, still performed for him all those little offices which he knew Lord Robert had been accustomed to have done for him by his attendants, though his Lordship did not wish to consider himself entitled to such services in his present situation.

One morning, Philip arose much earlier than usual. On his return from the beach with a load of wreck, he was much surprised, not only to see Lord Robert up and dressed, but employing himself in preparing the breakfast. Philip threw down his load and ran to him, exclaiming, "Why, my Lord, did you rise till I was ready to assist you to dress? And, above all, why do you fatigue yourself by an employment so little suitable to your rank?"

"Hush! hush! my dear Harley," returned Lord Robert, laying his hand playfully on Philip's lips. "Not a word about my useless rank now! Remember _we are equals here_!"

"Alas! my Lord," said Philip dejectedly, "I perceive you have not wholly forgiven me, or you would not repeat my impertinence."

"Which had much _truth_ in it, though I took it so ill at the time," said Lord Robert, laughing. "However, Harley, without wishing to refer to unpleasant occurrences, or designing to wound your feelings, (which I should be a most ungrateful, cold-hearted fellow, were I to do,) I must tell you, that I cannot consent to be attended on with the same deference as if I were his Britannic Majesty in retirement,--at least, while I have done nothing to merit such distinction."

"Ah! my Lord," said Philip, "if you knew the pleasure which the performance of these little services affords me, you would not wish to deprive me of it: and, indeed, nothing but your absolute prohibition shall prevent me from continuing them."

"You are a noble-minded fellow, Harley; but it is not for me to talk of prohibiting or commanding _here_, where I am your superior in nothing----"

"Again, my Lord!" said Philip, turning away.

"Where," answered his Lordship, "I am your inferior in everything, and am so much in love with your just way of thinking, and noble independence, that I would willingly imitate both; and, my dear Philip, you must not take it ill, if I refuse to live by your labours while I have hands of my own. Tell me, Harley, will you accept such an awkward fellow as I have proved myself to be, for your pupil?"

"I cannot refuse you anything," said Philip; "but while you are so debilitated from your long illness, you neither must nor shall do anything to fatigue yourself."

So saying, he proceeded to serve up the turtle which Lord Robert had stewed for breakfast; reproaching him, as he did so, for demeaning himself by performing the office of a cook.

Lord Robert, laughing, told him that it encouraged him not a little in his design of becoming useful, to observe that his last attempt of that kind had succeeded so much better than his first. "But," continued he, "perseverance overcomes all difficulties; and before long, I may become as good a carpenter as I have this morning proved myself a cook."

Philip shook his head, and looked grave.

"So you doubt my abilities," continued Lord Robert, who would not understand him; "now that is mortifying, Harley! But I forgive you, considering that the circumstance of the three-legged stool could not have impressed you with a very favourable opinion of my genius in such matters."

"Let me entreat your Lordship never to allude to my conduct in that affair again," said Philip.

"Now, on the contrary," returned Lord Robert gaily, "I have serious thoughts of fetching the aforesaid stool from under the tree where I so petulantly flung it; and of soliciting you to lend me that rule and saw, which I so rudely refused when you would have permitted me to make use of them to correct my blunders; which was very generous on your part, considering how awkwardly I handled my only tool, and how easily I might have injured yours."

Philip was astonished at the ease and frankness with which Lord Robert spoke of these circumstances, but again implored him not to allude to the past.

"Had you told me anything but the _truth_," replied Lord Robert, "perhaps I might be excused if I repeated your remarks with displeasure. But the lesson was too salutary to be forgotten. In common with many of high birth, I have been too much accustomed to the language of flattery, instead of that of truth and justice; till, forgetting the relative obligations of society, and never checking the defects of my temper, I was led to commit outrages on every one who did not yield a blind submission to my whims. You, Harley, have opened my eyes to my faults; and it will, in future, be my constant study to correct them, convinced, as I now am, of the folly of trusting to rank and riches alone for influence and consideration among my fellow-creatures."

The day after this conversation, Lord Robert was well enough to accompany Philip to the beach, to seek for turtles' eggs. In this search they wandered to a different part of the island, and Lord Robert discovered, at a little distance, something dark and large heaving among the surf; he called Philip's attention to it, who soon got it on shore; and they found it to be a chest belonging to some of the unfortunate crew of the Diomede: it was heavy, but Philip soon carried it to the hut.

"What do you think it contains?" said Lord Robert, as Philip was forcing the lid.

"Tools, I hope," said Philip; "for the chest is weighty." And as he spoke, he used so powerful an effort that the lid gave way to his force.

"Not tools, but books!" exclaimed Lord Robert, highly delighted at the sight which presented itself on Philip's removing the lid. Philip, however, was disappointed.

"Tools would have been of unspeakable service," said he, almost vexed at the joy Lord Robert expressed at the sight of the books.

"But these will be of infinitely more service," replied Lord Robert, taking one of the books and turning to the title-page; but his lip quivered as he read the name there written, which was "Lucius Cary."

"Alas! poor Cary!" said he, in an altered tone of voice; "was it _your_ chest that we thought ourselves so fortunate in finding, and that we opened with such glee?"

Philip, deeply affected, softly closed the lid: for they both were in too melancholy a mood to continue to examine the contents of the chest; nor was it till several days had passed that they assumed firmness enough to open it again.

They found in this chest a complete set of mathematical instruments, and a small but valuable selection of books, fitting for the library of a young officer; comprising the choicest works on navigation, astronomy, and geometry; and two or three volumes of poetry and history. Some of these were wetted by the sea-water, but Lord Robert carefully spread them to dry. They also found a few changes of linen, an undress jacket or two; and Lord Robert drew forth with much grief, from a corner of the chest, Cary's flute.

"This," said he, "should I ever be permitted to revisit my native country, I will carry to England, and keep as long as I live, in memory of our deceased friend."

Though they were in sad want of linen and clothes, Lord Robert felt a pang of regret when he saw Philip busy in removing his epaulet to Cary's half-uniform jacket, and laying out for his use some of his shirts and cravats, which, however, were of the greatest use to him, and highly beneficial to his health.

Soon after this, the rainy season set in, which is usual to these latitudes; and now they found a source of delight and advantage in the books which had been so opportunely thrown in their way. Lord Robert was an accomplished young man; he had received a most superior education; and was not only perfect in all acquirements befitting his rank, but had made a considerable progress in those sciences which are necessary to be known in order to obtain perfection in naval duties.[5]

[Footnote 5: The sciences requisite to form a complete seaman are beautifully described by Falconer:--

"Him Science taught by mystic lore to trace
The planets wheeling in eternal race;
To mark the ship in floating balance held,
By earth attracted, and by seas repelled;
Or point her devious track through climes unknown,
That leads to every shore, and every zone.--
He saw the moon through heaven's blue concave glide,
And into motion charm the expanding tide;
While earth impetuous round her axle rolls,
Exalts her watery zone, and sinks the poles.
Light and attraction from their genial source,
He saw still wandering with diminish'd force;
While on the margin of declining day
Night's shadowy cone reluctant melts away."

To add to this,

"That never seaman more serenely brave
Led Britain's conquering squadrons o'er the wave."

_The Shipwreck._

Perhaps it will be considered that Falconer's beautiful poem is too generally known to give these extracts the charm of novelty; yet surely every one who is acquainted with the talents and fate of Falconer, will feel almost a tender emotion when his writings are alluded to, from a combination of circumstances. His poem is very interesting, his character and fate are still more so, and his memory is thrice hallowed and will be immortalized by the beautiful allusion to his Shipwreck in the "Pleasures of Hope."]

This knowledge he was desirous of imparting to young Harley, who, at Lord Roberts earnest request, became his pupil in geometry and nautical astronomy, and improved rapidly under his tuition.

This was to Philip the happiest period of his life: he had received from his father a good plain education, which he had improved by reading the best books he could procure; but now he found the acquirement of higher branches of knowledge still more delightful; and the life he led was so calm and peaceful, and Lord Robert's society and manners were so charming, that he tasted on this island pleasure such as he had never before experienced. It is not to be wondered at, therefore, that the event which Lord Robert anticipated with much joy, should give him pain whenever he thought of it; namely, the arrival of some vessel from the coast of Africa, on its way to Brazil, which would take them from the island.

The affection which he had formed for his high-born companion was now far stronger than ever his animosity had been; and certainly Lord Robert had, since his illness, conducted himself in a manner deserving even the unbounded attachment which his lowly but warm-hearted friend testified towards him. No longer proud and irritable, his behaviour was gentle, mild, and considerate; his manners, always elegant and polished, possessed a charm altogether irresistible; and his conversation, pure, refined, and chiefly directed to intellectual subjects, was so delightful, that Philip thought his society would unfit him for any other.

As Philip had passed the greater part of his life in seclusion from those of his own age and station, his manners and mind were free from the taint which impure and corrupt society often gives; and when he was by chance thrown in contact with his equals, he shrunk with horror from vice and coarseness; and preferred, in his leisure hours, to nurse and amuse his suffering sister, or to pore over Baker's Chronicle, Drayton's Polyolbion, or Sir Walter Raleigh's History of the World, (which ancient treasures his father possessed,) to the most enlivening games of quoits or foot-ball.

The taste he had formed for mental pursuits since he had been on the island, brought with it a painful consciousness of the difference between Lord Robert's rank and his own; and he thought it very improbable, that so elegant and accomplished a young man could ever condescend to form a friendship with him, though he might retain a grateful sense of the assistance which he had subsequently rendered him.

Philip had made a pretty latticed porch to the hut, and trained the vine over it, that Lord Robert might enjoy the cool of the evening, without being exposed to the noxious effect of the dews. Here then, after spending the day in study or useful employment, they passed the evening, conversing together, or examining the starry heavens, and noting constellations, which appear very different from those of Europe. Sometimes, Lord Robert would play on Cary's flute; but though it was enchanting to listen to this music in the stillness of a moonlight evening, when all the fire-flies in the island were collected in this only spot of verdure, and were blazing round them, and everything above and around accorded so well with these sweet sounds, yet it was forbidden pleasure; for playing on the flute was injurious to Lord Robert's health; and Philip, though he loved music, and this music most of all, would often take the flute almost by force from the hands of his noble friend, who, being a fine performer, and much attached to music, never knew how to resign it in prudent time.

The happiness Philip now enjoyed was only interrupted by the pain he felt, whenever the probability was mentioned of their leaving the island. Lord Robert expected that, when certain winds set in, some vessel or other would touch at the island for water or turtle; and Philip guessed, that when they were taken from their present abode, this delightful intercourse would cease, and Lord Robert would be for ever separated from him by the forms of society. This made him feel almost pettish when he found that, when these winds commenced, Lord Robert left him for hours, and passed his time leaning against the cross on the hill, making observations through his perspective-glass; while Philip remained in the valley, employing himself for their mutual benefit. But though he felt almost angry with Lord Robert for depriving him so much of his company, yet he never presumed to remonstrate with him on this or any other subject; and when he saw him approach the valley on his return, he would forget all his repinings, and hasten to meet him, and offer his arm for his support, if he seemed faint or fatigued. It is not surprising that Lord Robert returned this tender affection with the utmost regard. He now felt the gratifying conviction, that it was not to the superiority of his rank and power, but to his virtues, his acquirements, and charming manners, that he owed his influence over the heart of one on whom his situation in life had made no impression, and who had denied him the slightest respect till he had proved himself deserving of it; and he could not help remarking, that he had never, when in the height of his pride and power, received half the real deference, or marks of delicate attention, which had been shown him since his residence on the island, by his only companion and former enemy, Philip Harley.

One afternoon, as Philip was employing himself in the valley, and had begun to wonder at the long absence of his noble companion, Lord Robert rushed into the hut, and, with an animation of manner Philip had not observed in him for a long time, said: "Joy! joy! my dear Harley! I have just seen a sail, and have hastened home to bring you the delightful news."

"Is that all?" said Philip in a melancholy tone.

"No, not all," replied Lord Robert: "for I climbed to the top of the cross, and hoisted my handkerchief as a signal of distress. And the lads are now making the island! And we shall see Old England again, my boy!"

But Philip Harley did not seem to participate in his delight; for he looked grave and thoughtful.

"How now!" said Lord Robert; "what are these dismal looks for? Shall you be sorry to see your home again? Or does the name of England recall to your remembrance some of my former exploits? Or do you think, if I found myself on board ship once more, I should feel the temptation of authority, and play the tyrant again?"

"No," replied Philip, sighing; "you do me great injustice if you suppose that I can for a moment form such an opinion of your Lordship."

"My Lordship, too! Very formal, Mr. Harley!--But, Philip, my dear fellow, tell me, what is the matter with you?"

Philip did not speak.

"Nay, then, Harley," said Lord Robert, taking both his hands, "I shall soon begin to think that you are willing to consider our present amity only in the light of a truce, occasioned by the breaking out of a pestilence; and that you are anxious to recommence hostilities as soon as an opportunity offers. But tell me, without more ado, are you offended with me?"

"Your Lordship is very gay this afternoon," said Philip gravely. "But I hope I have seen my own errors in too strong a light, and am too well convinced of my own insignificance, ever to take offence at anything done by a person of _your_ rank and consequence."

Lord Robert now appeared much wounded, and asked him seriously, what was the reason of this strange behaviour; and Philip, who could not bear the idea of giving him pain, replied--

"How can I share in your joy at the prospect of leaving the island, when that event will separate us for ever?"

"How so?" said Lord Robert, laughing. "To be sure, you don't mean to remain here playing Robinson Crusoe or the Hermit Quarl, by yourself?"

"No," said Philip sorrowfully, "that is not my intention; though, perhaps, the wisest thing I could do. But the forms of society, you well know, will as effectually separate us, as if I were to remain here."

Lord Robert's eyes brightened with more than usual animation, as he exclaimed--

"Is that all?--Am I, then, so dear to you, Harley?"

The tears glistened in Philip's eyes; and Lord Robert pressing his hand, cried, "Courage, man! We shall find a way to satisfy the most precise on the article of etiquette?"

So saying, he hastened to the beach; where he had the satisfaction of seeing the boat rowing rapidly towards the shore.

They found that the vessel was a Portuguese merchant ship; and from the knowledge Lord Robert possessed of Spanish, he had no difficulty in making himself understood by the mariners, who agreed to take him to the port of Rio de Janeiro, to which place they were bound; for they only landed to obtain a fresh supply of water.

As our adventurers were now to leave the island in a few hours, Philip bade a mournful adieu to the hut, where he had passed so many happy hours, and conveyed their little property to the beach; while Lord Robert amused himself by engraving the following inscription on the cross.

"On the 3rd of June, 17--, Lieutenant Lord Robert Summers, and Philip Harley, of his Britannic Majesty's ship of war the Diomede, were by the especial mercy of God preserved from the fury of the waves, and permitted to land safely on this island; where, after enduring many hardships, they became reconciled to their situation, and passed six months in a state of great happiness, and were at last removed by the Brazilian ship St. Sebastian."

Their voyage from the island (to which Lord Robert gave the name of the isle of Probation) was short and prosperous; and in less time than they could have expected, they entered the harbour of Rio de Janeiro. Here they began to feel some of the difficulties of their situation. Lord Robert had a few pieces of gold about him; but when they made the coast of Brazil, the Portuguese master did not fail to make such a demand on the young Englishman, as reduced his whole stock to half a moidore and a few pieces of silver; and these the sailors, on some pretence or other, contrived to extort from him; for being of a generous temper, and always accustomed to have money at command, his Lordship knew not how to refuse it, even when the prospect of want appeared before him. Philip thought him imprudent, and asked how he proposed reaching England?

"Oh," returned he, in a careless, light-hearted manner, "we are both able seamen; and, at the worst, we can work our passage in the first Portuguese vessel that sails for Lisbon: and then, you know, my lad, we are within a stone's throw of Old England."

"You work your passage to Europe!" said Philip, regarding him with a look of astonishment. "Does your Lordship mean to degrade your rank and talents by taking the berth of a common seaman?"

"Once, perhaps, I might have been alarmed at such an idea," said Lord Robert; "but since my residence on the Island of Probation, I have learnt the useful lesson, that nothing is really disgraceful but vice; and that no useful employment can degrade a man, let his rank be what it may, if there is an actual necessity for his taking it upon him. Of course, I, Lord Robert Summers, who have the honour to hold the rank of Lieutenant in his Majesty's navy, would not, willingly take upon myself the post of a common sailor in the Portuguese service: but will not that be less disgraceful than applying to some convent here for relief, and living lazily on their charity till some English ship of war arrives, whose officers, even if they disbelieve my noble birth, may, by cross-questioning me, contrive to recognise my rank on the navy-list?"

"But surely it was thoughtless of your Lordship to give away your last shilling to those imposing fellows, when you have no means of procuring necessaries in a foreign land; and, you know, your health is still delicate."

Lord Robert, laughing, still defended his extravagance, pretending that it was not for the honour of the British navy for a young officer who wore an epaulet and the remains of a white lapel, to appear shabby to the crew of a foreign vessel, or behave as if a handful of silver was of the least consequence to him.

"But," continued he, "I never felt the want of money enough to know the value of it. Perhaps, as there is no infliction of Providence sent in vain, I may, in the privations which I shall most likely suffer in the Brazils, be cured of my bad habit of thoughtless extravagance; and if I can contrive to leave one of my follies at every port we touch at in our return, I may chance to arrive at home a very perfect character."

In the afternoon, the vessel approached the town; and Lord Robert's attention was attracted by the appearance of a fine ship lying in the King's dock: slapping Philip's shoulder, he exclaimed--

"Look at that vessel, Harley! I protest, if her rigging were not evidently Portuguese, I should declare it was our old friend the Diomede! But, alas! that brave bark foundered in the heavy gale which we escaped."

Philip did not perceive the resemblance, and tried in vain to restrain the impatient tone of authority in which Lord Robert ordered the Portuguese sailors to lower a boat, and row him and his friend alongside the ship of war, which lay in the wet dock. "If these fellows knew the state of your Lordship's purse, they would not move their oars quite so nimbly," said Philip, when they were in the boat; "neither would they pay such regard to your impatient gestures to quicken their motions; and you might chance to get thrown into the sea, in return for your vociferating, in Spanish, that they are the laziest dogs you ever met with."

"But, Philip, how came you, who are not quite so familiar in the Spanish terms of abuse as I am, to guess what I was saying to them?"

"Truly, my Lord," said Philip, "I guessed, by your tone and manner, that you were not addressing the most polite expressions to them: and it would perhaps be prudent to remember, that you are not _their_ commanding officer; therefore, they are not obliged to put up with any incivility."

"True, Philip; I certainly have no right to abuse them; and I perceive I have already violated one of my good resolutions, by giving way to my usual intemperance of tongue, on a very slight occasion. Tell me, Harley, were you not astonished, after all I had determined on that subject, to see me swaggering and ordering about me, in the boat, quite in my old way?"

"No, my Lord," said Philip drily; "for I have always heard that good resolutions are much easier made than adhered to."

"Well, well! my dear Harley, I must exert all my strength of mind to adhere to mine, though I own this is but a bad beginning."

As he spoke, they approached near enough to the vessel to distinguish her build by the naked eye.

"It is a British ship of the line, though Portuguese rigged!" exclaimed Lord Robert, starting up in the boat.

"It is the Diomede itself!" said Philip, dropping Lord Robert's perspective-glass into the water, through which he had been examining the figure-head.

The sight of this vessel brought a thousand agonizing remembrances to Philip's mind; and he sank on one of the benches, almost annoyed by the ardent Lord Robert; who, as they dashed up the river, besought the rowers in the most moving Spanish he could command, to redouble their speed. He laughed and wept by turns; till the men, shrugging their shoulders, protested by all their saints that the young officer was the maddest Englishman they ever had the honour of rowing.

"Oh, my beloved uncle! My heroic commander! Shall I see you again?" exclaimed Lord Robert, as the sailors rested on their oars under the stern of the vessel: and, in another moment, he stood on the deck of the Diomede, to the inexpressible astonishment of her officers and crew.

The bustle on deck brought Sir Henry Stanley to the scene of action; as he advanced, he was struck by the exclamations of--

"Can it be?--Is it possible?" On his nearer approach, he could scarcely credit the evidence of his own eyes, when he beheld his lost nephew; altered, it is true, from the hardships he had undergone; for he looked pale and thin, and rather consumptive, and was grown considerably taller. He was leaning on the arm of Philip Harley, his former enemy, who now seemed to regard him with the greatest affection. Sir Henry, like the rest of the officers and crew, was inclined to doubt the reality of what he saw; when his impetuous nephew, catching a glimpse of his majestic figure, broke through the group that surrounded him, and, throwing himself into his arms, buried his head in his bosom, and sobbed aloud. Sir Henry, who fondly loved this young man, and had mourned his loss as for that of an only son, now felt himself overpowered by his joy at so unexpectedly beholding him.

"Look up, my dear boy!" he said, at length recovering his firmness. "Look up, and let me once more behold that beloved face, which I never thought to have seen again."

Lord Robert raised his head, and smiled through his tears on his uncle; but again, yielding to the joy of seeing that dear friend alive, he concealed his face on Sir Henry's shoulder, and wept passionately. Sir Henry was at last distressed by his agitation, and forced himself to chide him for giving way to such an excessive indulgence of his feelings.

"Compose yourself, my dear boy!" said he; "or you will give these gentlemen reason to suspect that it is one of your sisters, who has taken it into her head to assume the appearance of my brave young lieutenant."

Lord Robert was ashamed of giving way to his emotions so publicly; till, having in some degree collected himself, he looked in his uncle's face, and was pleased to find that his eyes were full of tears, notwithstanding the reproof he had just administered to him.

"And now," said Sir Henry, "I hope that you will consider how powerfully the curiosity of all present is excited, to learn by what means you have been enabled to appear among us alive and well, when we thought we saw you perish before our eyes, without being able to render you any assistance, and after we had deeply deplored your loss."

Lord Robert stepped back to the spot where he had left Philip, and taking him by the arm, led him to his uncle.

"For this interview," said he, "under the especial providence of God, you must thank my kind preserver, the brave and noble-minded Harley."

Sir Henry graciously presented his hand to Philip, who respectfully pressed it to his lips in silence.

"Ah, my dear uncle," said Lord Robert, in reply to Sir Henry's commendations and grateful expressions to Philip for his care of his nephew, "you know not half his merit yet; nor are you aware," said he, lowering his voice, "of half my unworthiness."

"Aware of your unworthiness! No, my dear boy--that is what I hope I shall never be," said Sir Henry.

"I fear," said Lord Robert, "you will have reason to blush for your nephew soon; for I must summon courage to relate to you a story which will, I fear, deprive me of your affection and esteem for ever."

"I shall be sorry to hear anything that is likely to have such effects," said Sir Henry, gravely: and when he looked from him to Philip Harley, and observed his visible agitation, and remembered the bitter hatred that once subsisted between them, he was convinced that Lord Robert had something to communicate respecting his conduct to the young mutineer, not much to his own credit.

Lord Robert was roused from his meditation by the importunities of the boatmen who had rowed him to the ship; and it was quite with the air of his former gay liberality that he flung into their boat a handful of money he had obtained from his uncle for that purpose.

The appearance of Lieutenant Cary on deck occasioned a great surprise to the young friends.

He was absent on shore when they arrived; and they were the more delighted at finding him alive, from the grief they had felt at his supposed loss. Lord Robert told him the manner in which they had found the chest containing his books, flute, and other property.

"Ah! my poor books!" said Cary: "the chest was weighty; and, in the extremity to which we were reduced, after you left the ship, we threw it overboard, in common with everything else that was likely to lighten the ship."

"And pray, how came my poor Neptune overboard? Did you commit him to the mercy of the waves in order to lighten the ship?" said Lord Robert, patting the faithful creature as he spoke.

"What became of Neptune we never knew," said Cary; "but we supposed that he went away with the pinnace; for in the height of our distress, when all on board expected the Diomede to founder every minute, the boatswain, with one midshipman, and two or three sailors, contrived to lower the pinnace and steal away, selfishly leaving their commander and messmates to endure the worst; and, most likely, Neptune, being uneasy at missing his master, jumped into the boat and went with them."

"They met with a fitting reward for their cowardly desertion," said Lord Robert; "for Neptune was the only creature that reached the island with life: some of the bodies we found and buried. But how came the ship to reach the shore of Brazil?"

"By the mercy of Heaven, we met some Brazilian proas, which took us on board, and the Diomede in tow; and, having favourable winds and a smooth sea, we contrived to get the hulk into the King's dock at Rio de Janeiro; where, being a fine new ship, she was found worth repairing and refitting; and here we have been ever since, the Portuguese workmen being very slow in their operations."[6]

[Footnote 6: Commodore Byron found some repairs necessary at Rio de Janeiro.--"We had six Portuguese caulkers to assist our carpenters, who were paid at the rate of 6s. per diem; though it is certain an English caulker could do as much in one day as they did in three; but, though slow and inactive, they perform their work very effectually."

BYRON'S _Voyage_.]

It was not till late that day that Lord Robert summoned courage enough to disclose to his uncle the whole particulars of his conduct towards young Harley. It was not without reason that he dreaded the manner in which Sir Henry would receive this explanation; for he was a man of the purest honour himself, and was likely to consider with some severity the misrepresentation his nephew had made to his father, which occasioned Philip's being removed from his home.

Lord Robert, when a child, had been treated with ruinous indulgence by his fond parents, by whom his most extravagant whims were considered as a law to which the whole establishment must submit. Sir Henry Stanley was the only person who had ever attempted the arduous but necessary task of controlling Lord Robert; although, with the self-delusion not uncommon in such cases, his noble parents did not scruple to attribute their son's violent temper and petulant conduct when on shore, to his uncle's indulgence. But if there was a man in the world whom Lord Robert feared, it was Sir Henry; yet, at the same time, he was so unerringly just and judicious, that his nephew loved him with the most ardent affection, and was used to consider the displeasure of his uncle as the most serious misfortune that could befal him: and such was the good effect this salutary awe had on him, when on board ship, that Sir Henry was not a little proud of his officer-like conduct, never having had occasion to frown on him for any breach of duty or immorality. Lord Robert knew the high place he held in his uncle's opinion, and the idea of forfeiting his esteem was dreadful. True, he was not actually under the necessity of making a confession so mortifying. Sir Henry need never know the misrepresentation he had made to his father:--a single word to that fond parent would not only prevail on him to bury the whole in oblivion, but induce him to devise excuses to cover his faults and reconcile him to himself. From Harley, he knew, he need feel no fear of its being divulged;--that generous friend would, he was assured, take the whole blame of what had passed on himself to screen him from reproach.

Lord Robert was at first strangely tempted to take these measures, and conceal the worst part of his conduct from his revered commander; but his better principles obtained the victory in the struggle, and, in a private conference with his uncle, he revealed every circumstance,--beginning with his shooting Philip's dog, and relating all that had happened between them till their reconciliation and friendship on the Isle of Probation. And so severely did he blame himself that Sir Henry, moved by his candour, would not increase his mental sufferings by any reprimands.

Lord Robert was in earnest conference with his uncle that evening and the next morning; during which time Philip had resumed his duties on board: but he was restless and unhappy; for he felt his separation from Lord Robert had now commenced, and he conceived he should never more enjoy the pleasure of his society. In this frame of mind, he looked back with the most painful regret to their residence on the island, and the delightful hours he had spent with his noble friend in the acquirement of knowledge. In the midst of these repinings, he received a summons to Lord Robert's cabin. He did not find any one there; but was told by his conductor to wait till his Lordship returned from dining with his uncle. At last, Philip heard a quick and well-known step at the door; and Lord Robert rushed in with more than his usual impetuosity, and, seizing Philip by the hand, he exclaimed:

"Joy, my dear Harley! My noble uncle has forgiven me! For I have confessed everything that has passed between us; and so highly does he approve of your generous conduct towards me, that he has granted my earnest request of placing you on the quarter-deck of the Diomede, where you are now privileged to appear with the other midshipmen."--So saying, he beckoned to his servant who followed him, carrying a full-dress midshipman's uniform. He superintended himself the pleasing task of arraying his friend in this dress; and buckled on the dirk with his own hands, which was the same he had himself worn when a midshipman. When all was complete, he surveyed Philip from head to foot with great satisfaction; and assured him that the dress became him as well as if he had been born a gentleman; and, with much animation, expressed his conviction that he would, after serving his due time as a naval cadet, arrive at the dignity of an epaulet, and fill in progression the highest situations in the navy, to which, he was convinced, he would prove an honour.

The change was so sudden, that it almost took from Philip the power of expressing his joy. Lord Robert could not help smiling to find that he had, for once, overcome that firmness for which Philip generally was distinguished. His agitation was painful in the extreme; but when he did at length speak, it was with a vehemence of gratitude, which showed Lord Robert the dominion he now possessed over the once stubborn and haughty mind of Philip Harley. "It is not," said he, wringing Lord Robert's hand as he spoke, "because I am proud and ambitious, and you have raised me from my lowly rank, and given me an opportunity of distinguishing myself--this is, indeed, much,--but it is not that which makes my heart overflow with joy: it is the consciousness that I shall now sometimes be suffered to be near you, and that my humble situation will not deprive me of your friendship."

"Now, my dear friend," said Lord Robert, "I must leave you, though against my wishes: as the barge is waiting to convey my uncle on shore, to spend two days with the Governor, and it is his pleasure that I shall attend him. You will, in the mean time, find sufficient amusement, I doubt not, among your brother officers." As he said this, he gaily withdrew. Harley pursued his retreating figure with his eyes, as he followed Sir Henry Stanley and Lieutenant Cary into the splendid state-barge, which the Portuguese Governor had sent to convey them on shore. As the sun shone brightly on the gilded vessel, and her silken streamers fluttered in the breeze, it recalled to his mind the remembrance of the Ariel; and he recollected with shame his lawless exploit of sailing in that fairy frigate, in defiance of her owner, and in his very sight.