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Updated: May 1, 2025
I walked down Pall Mall in a very unhappy mood, so deep in thought, that I ran against a lady, who was stepping out of her carriage at a fashionable shop. She turned round, and I was making my best apologies to a very handsome woman when her ear-rings caught my attention. They were of alternate coral and gold, and the fac-simile in make to the chain given by Nattée to Fleta.
Drawing her an easy-chair close to the cheerful blaze I knelt on the rug beside her, the easier to stroke Fleta, the pretty Angora cat, who with her rough tongue licked my hand with affectionate welcome. Presently Mr. Winthrop joined us. His presence at first unnoticed in our busy chat, I happened to turn my head and saw him calmly regarding us.
I felt confused for a moment, as the scrutiny was unexpected from that quarter; but a few moments' reflection told me, that if Sir Henry de Clare and Melchior were the same person, and this man his agent, in all probability he had not been sent to England for nothing; that if he was in search of Fleta, he must have heard of my name, and perhaps something of my history.
She hastened to Nattee, and folding her arms across her breast, stood still, saying meekly, "I am here." "Know these as friends, Fleta. Nattee smiled, and left us. I observed she went to where forty or fifty of the tribe were assembled, in earnest discourse. She took her seat with them, and marked deference was paid to her.
I know who Fleta is, and who you are." "Indeed," replied Melchior; "perhaps you will explain?" "I will. You, Melchior, are Sir Henry de Clare; you succeeded to your estates by the death of your elder brother, from a fall when hunting." Melchior appeared astonished. "Indeed!" replied he; "pray go on. You have made a gentleman of me." "No; rather a scoundrel."
Lord Windermear then took me aside, and I narrated what had happened. He recollected the story of Fleta in my narrative of my life, and felt that I was right in trying to find out who the lady was. The magistrate now apologised for the detention, but explained to his lordship how I had before made my appearance upon another charge, and with a low bow we were dismissed.
There were, however, several other articles to be purchased, such as a trunk, portmanteau, hat, gloves, etcetera, all which we procured, and then went back to the inn. On my return I ordered dinner. Fleta was certainly clad in her best frock, but bad was the best; and the landlady, who could extract little from the child, could not imagine who we could be.
Kathleen has proved to me that Fleta is the daughter of the late Sir William; and if I escape this snare, Melchior shall do her justice." Pleased with my having so identified Melchior and Fleta, I fell into a train of thought, and for the first time forgot my perilous situation, but I was roused from my meditations by an exclamation from Kathleen.
"As you please; now will you make a lady of Fleta?" "Yes, I will. She is your niece." Melchior started back. "Your agent, M'Dermott, who was sent over to find out Fleta's abode, met me in the coach, and he has tracked me here, and risked my life, by telling the people that I was a tithe proctor."
Nattée looked very melancholy, but resigned; on the contrary, little Fleta was so overjoyed, that her face, generally so mournful, was illuminated with smiles whenever our eyes met. It was delightful to see her so happy. The whole of the people in the camp had retired, and Melchior was busy making his arrangements in the tent.
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