Richard Carvel | Page 5

craft and not overladen she weathered the gale with the
loss of a jib, and was about making topsails again when a full-rigged
ship was descried in the offing giving signals of distress. Night was
coming on very fast, and the sea was yet running too high for a boat to
live, but the gallant captain furled his topsails once more to await the
morning. It could be seen from her signals that the ship was living
throughout the night, but at dawn she foundered before the Sally's boats
could be put in the water; one of them was ground to pieces on the falls.
Out of the ship's company and passengers they picked up but five souls,
four sailors and a little girl of two years or thereabouts. The men knew
nothing more of her than that she had come aboard at Brest with her
mother, a quiet, delicate lady who spoke little with the other passengers.
The ship was 'La Favourite du Roy', bound for the French Indies.
Captain Stanwix's wife, who was a good, motherly person, took charge
of the little orphan, and arriving at Carvel Hall delivered her to my
grandfather, who brought her up as his own daughter. You may be sure
the emblem of Catholicism found upon her was destroyed, and she was
baptized straightway by Doctor Hilliard, my grandfather's chaplain,
into the Established Church. Her clothes were of the finest quality, and
her little handkerchief had worked into the corner of it a coronet, with
the initials "E de T" beside it. Around her neck was that locket with the
gold chain which I have so often shown you, on one side of which is

the miniature of the young officer in his most Christian Majesty's
uniform, and on the other a yellow-faded slip of paper with these words:
"Elle est la mienne, quoiqu'elle ne porte pas mou nom." "She is mine,
although she does not bear my name."
My grandfather wrote to the owners of 'La Favourite du Roy', and
likewise directed his English agent to spare nothing in the search for
some clew to the child's identity. All that he found was that the mother
had been entered on the passenger-list as Madame la Farge, of Paris,
and was bound for Martinico. Of the father there was no trace whatever.
The name "la Farge" the agent, Mr. Dix, knew almost to a certainty was
assumed, and the coronet on the handkerchief implied that the child
was of noble parentage. The meaning conveyed by the paper in the
locket, which was plainly a clipping from a letter, was such that Mr.
Carvel never showed it to my mother, and would have destroyed it had
he not felt that some day it might aid in solving the mystery. So he kept
it in his strongbox, where he thought it safe from prying eyes. But my
Uncle Grafton, ever a deceitful lad, at length discovered the key and
read the paper, and afterwards used the knowledge he thus obtained as
a reproach and a taunt against my mother. I cannot even now write his
name without repulsion.
This new member of the household was renamed Elizabeth Carvel,
though they called her Bess, and of a course she was greatly petted and
spoiled, and ruled all those about her. As she grew from childhood to
womanhood her beauty became talked about, and afterwards, when
Mistress Carvel went to the Assembly, a dozen young sparks would
crowd about the door of her coach, and older and more serious men lost
their heads on her account.
Her devotion to Mr. Carvel was such, however, that she seemed to care
but little for the attention she received, and she continued to grace his
board and entertain his company. He fairly worshipped her. It was his
delight to surprise her with presents from England, with rich silks and
brocades for gowns, for he loved to see her bravely dressed. The spinet
he gave her, inlaid with ivory, we have still. And he caused a chariot to
be made for her in London, and she had her own horses and her groom

in the Carvel livery.
People said it was but natural that she should fall in love with Captain
Jack, my father. He was the soldier of the family, tall and straight and
dashing. He differed from his younger brother Grafton as day from
night. Captain Jack was open and generous, though a little given to rash
enterprise and madcap adventure. He loved my mother from a child.
His friend Captain Clapsaddle loved her too, and likewise Grafton, but
it soon became evident that she would marry Captain Jack or nobody.
He was my grandfather's favourite, and though Mr. Carvel had wished
him more serious, his joy when Bess blushingly told