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Updated: May 15, 2025
"Soon after coming into my uncle's estate I moved to New York, and took up my residence at the St. Nicholas Hotel, determined to see a little life before settling down as a steady man. I had been at the hotel but a few days when I made the acquaintance of a gentleman about my own age. His name was George Darville and he was a first-rate fellow.
"Sir," said she suddenly; "you are a friend of Viscount Devenham." "I count myself so fortunate." "And therefore a gentleman." "Indeed, it is my earnest wish." "Then you will promise me that, should you ever hear anything spoken to the dishonor of Beatrice Darville, you will deny it." "Yes," said Barnabas, smiling a little grimly, "though I think I should do more than that."
"My father!" she exclaimed, speaking in a whisper. "You have seen my father? You know him?" "Yes. I met him not long ago. His name is Ralph Darville, he told me, and he goes up and down the countryside searching for you has done so, ever since he lost you, and he preaches always Forgiveness and Forgetfulness of Self!" "My father!" she whispered again with quivering lips. "Preaching?"
So, talking thus, they reached a gate, and, beyond the gate, a road, white beneath the moon, winding away between shadowy hedges. "You are for London, I fancy, young sir?" "Yes." "Then we part here. But before I bid you God speed, I would know your name; mine is Darville Ralph Darville." "And mine, sir, is Barnabas Beverley." "Beverley!" said the Preacher, glancing up quickly, "of Ashleydown?"
The steamers fired for many hours shot and shell without intermission, which destroyed and set on fire the enemy's stockades and other defences. A small naval brigade, commanded by Lieutenant Darville, HMS Rattler, did good service on shore. For three days the Burmese garrison held out; stockade after stockade was stormed and taken in a most gallant way by the troops.
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