Chapter LVI: A History of the Past (2)

On the very next day Tamar wrote a long and most affectionate letter to her sister; and Esther was compelled to inform her, in the reply, of the harsh command issued by their father. But that very severity on the part of Mr. de Medina to some extent—at least in this particular instance—destroyed that frank and open-hearted confidence which Esther had hitherto manifested towards him, and which was inherent in her nature. She could not make up her mind to break off all correspondence with her sister; and yet she dared not receive any future letters at the house in Great Ormond Street. The idea of having Tamar's letters addressed elsewhere, naturally suggested itself, therefore, to her imagination; and she accordingly made an arrangement at the post-office in Southampton Row, by which the woman who kept the shop consented to receive and keep for Esther any missives that might be thus addressed:—"_A. B. C., Post Office, Southampton Row. To be left till called for._" That same evening Esther wrote another letter to her sister, acquainting her with this arrangement; and we should observe that Tamar duly communicated all these circumstances to Tom Rain, who was delighted to find that she whom he so fondly loved had experienced so much happiness by thus meeting and corresponding with her sister. The highwayman was not, however, a little astonished when he had learnt from Tamar that Mr. de Medina was about to become the tenant of the Earl of Ellingham; and it was then for the first time that he communicated to his mistress the full particulars of all that the gipsy Miranda had told him, and which had made him acquainted with his parentage,—particulars already so well known to the reader.

The seventh day after these events was the 31st of October—a date rendered memorable, so far as this narrative is concerned, by the affair of the diamonds. It was about five o'clock in the afternoon of the day named, that Tamar called on Mr. Gordon, the diamond-merchant in Arundel Street, to dispose of her ring. Rainford would have transacted the business for her, but he was occupied at the time in effecting his negotiations with Old Death; and, moreover, Tamar considered it to be a matter exclusively regarding herself. We must confess that the idea of possessing the means of procuring a beautiful locket shared in her mind the place that ought to have been entirely occupied by the proofs she had received of her sister's devoted attachment. But Tamar was passionately enamoured of resplendent jewellery; and when, in Mr. Gordon's apartments, she beheld a beautiful set of diamonds lying in an open case upon the table, the temptation became irresistible. It cannot be supposed that she had been very nearly three years the companion of a highwayman without having her notions of _mine_ and _thine_ considerably shaken; and through her brain instantly flashed the thought——"Wherefore should not I make myself the mistress of those charming jewels, as well as Tom render himself the possessor of a purse on the main road?" Scarcely was the idea conceived, when she resolved to execute it; and she haggled with the diamond-merchant relative to the price which he was to pay for the ring, merely to gain an opportunity to self-appropriate the diamonds. That opportunity served; and she departed alike with the produce of the ring and of the theft!

But scarcely had she reached the street, when her sentiments underwent a complete revulsion; and she would have given worlds to be able to recall the last ten minutes. For an instant she paused, hesitating whether she should not return into the presence of Mr. Gordon and restore him the diamonds. Fear, however, prevented her,—a fear lest he might consider her deserving of punishment for having abstracted them at all. She accordingly hurried away towards South Moulton Street. But during her walk thither, she reflected that Rainford might be much annoyed with her for the deed she had committed; and the more she pondered thereon, the more powerful became her conviction that he would be more than annoyed—in fact, deeply incensed. She accordingly made up her mind to conceal the circumstance from him, and seek the earliest possible opportunity of sending back the diamonds, by some safe means, to Mr. Gordon.

On her arrival in South Moulton Street, she found a letter from Esther. It contained assurances of ardent affection, but apologised for its brevity, on the ground that it was then already one o'clock in the day, and that at two Lord Ellingham's carriage was to be at the door to convey his lordship, her father, and herself to view the mansion and estate near Finchley. She added that they were to dine at the mansion, and were not to return until late in the evening. Tom Rain was present in the room when Tamar read this note; and she communicated its contents to him. Two nights afterwards he departed on a little expedition; and on this occasion Lady Hatfield was robbed by the highwayman near Bedfont.

On the ensuing morning Rainford was arrested, and conveyed to Bow Street; but he escaped with impunity, in the manner already described. But how great was his astonishment when he heard the name of Esther de Medina pronounced in the court; and with what interest—with what respectful admiration, did he survey the sister of his Tamar—that sister who loved her whom the father had disowned! When Mr. Gordon was called forward, and stated his name and calling, Rainford began to grow uneasy; for he knew that Tamar had sold him the ring three evenings previously. But as the diamond-merchant gradually explained the details of the robbery of the diamonds, the highwayman's heart sank within him—for he had no difficulty in penetrating the mystery. He was still meditating upon the course that should be adopted to prove Esther's innocence, when it suddenly struck him that she must have been at the estate near Finchley, at the very moment when the theft of the diamonds occurred. The reader knows the rest: Lord Ellingham's attendance at the court was ensured by the intervention of Rainford, and Esther was discharged. Her father, it will be remembered, appeared at the police-office just as the case was about to terminate; and the expression which he made use of to his daughter,—"_Oh! Esther—Esther, I can understand it all! You have brought this upon yourself!_"—is now accounted for. When Esther turned _an appealing glance towards her father, as if to remind him of some duty which he ought to perform, or to convey some silent prayer which he could well understand_,—it was to beseech him to satisfy the diamond-merchant for the loss of his jewels, and thus save Tamar from any unpleasant consequences which might ensue were the theft traced to her. But, as we have seen, _he affected not to notice that rapid but profoundly significant glance_.

During the few minutes that Mr. de Medina remained in the court, Rainford was concealed as it were—or at least shrouded from observation—amongst the crowd; and thus he escaped the notice of the Jew. We should also state that it was on this occasion Rainford first beheld his half-brother, the Earl of Ellingham, _whose fine blue eyes indicated a frank, and generous disposition_, and in whose favour the highwayman was immediately prepossessed; for it must be remembered that _his eyes were also of a deep blue, and indicated not only good humour, but a certain generosity of disposition_. Indeed, it was only in respect to the eyes and the brilliant teeth, that the Earl and Rainford possessed the slightest family resemblance to each other. Yes:—it was on this occasion that Rainford first saw him whom he knew to be his half-brother; and the Earl noticed him also,—noticed him amongst the crowd of spectators who thronged the court;—but he knew not then how nearly that good-looking man, with the florid complexion and light hair, was related to him!

When Rainford returned home to South Moulton Street, he upbraided Tamar for the deed which she had perpetrated, and which had involved her sister in such a cruel embarrassment. But he did not reproach her in harsh nor brutal terms: of such conduct he was incapable. He spoke severely and coldly—manifesting his displeasure in a way which touched her to the quick, but provoked no recriminations. She was almost wild with grief when she heard the narrative of her sister being dragged to a police-office upon so degrading a charge; and, producing the diamonds, she implored Rainford to hasten and send them back to their owner. He intimated his intention of performing that duty in person; and ere he went away, Tamar implored his forgiveness. "I have no right to assume to myself the power of pardon," he answered; "seeing that my example has done this. But, oh! Tamar—if not for _my_ sake—if not for _your_ sake—at least for that of your estimable sister who is so devoted to you, abstain from such deeds in future!"—He then embraced her, and issued from the house.

In the meantime Esther de Medina had succeeded in persuading her father to advance the money,—advance to _her_ the means wherewith to liquidate the amount of the value at which the jewels were estimated. But in giving the sum required, Mr. de Medina said sternly, "Esther, it is to _you_ only that I concede this favour—and not for the sake of her who was once my daughter, and whom the infamy this day brought to light has estranged more remotely than ever from my heart!"—He then retired to another room, as was his wont when he wished to avoid an unpleasant topic: moreover, he thought that his daughter had suffered enough that day to render any further reproach on his part unnecessary—indeed cruel; and he knew that were the subject of conversation persisted in, he should not be able to restrain his ire.

The reader has already seen how Esther de Medina called upon the diamond-merchant, and paid him the sum of six hundred pounds—the amount at which he valued his jewels. He offered her a receipt; but she declined to take it—for she thought that as she was settling the affair from motives purely honourable and through regard towards _another_, it would appear as if she were really interested _personally_ in the transaction were she to reduce it to a mere matter of business. Not that she meditated a revelation of the fact that she had a sister so like herself that, when seen apart, they might well be taken for each other, and that this sister was the real culprit:—oh! no—she would not, even if she had dared, admit that her father had _another_ daughter! And if she _lingered—as if anxious to say something more_—'twas merely because her feelings of natural pride prompted her to exclaim, "Oh! sir, believe that I am innocent of this dreadful charge!"—but a second thought convinced her that such a declaration would not be credited, unless supported by a feasible explanation; and she _abruptly quitted the house_—bearing the stigma, in Mr. Gordon's eyes, of having committed a deed of which she was utterly guiltless!

Scarcely had Esther quitted the diamond-merchant's dwelling, when Tom Rain called to restore the diamonds; and great was his surprise upon learning _that Miss de Medina herself had called and paid the six hundred pounds at which they were valued_. He, however, left the diamonds, with the certainty that Esther would hear of their restoration either from Mr. Gordon himself or direct from Tamar. Rainford then returned to South Moulton Street, where he found Tamar in a very excited state. The occurrences of the day had made a profound and most painful impression upon her mind: the indignity offered to her sister—the certain indignation of her father—the upbraidings of Rainford, who had never spoken to her so severely before—and the bitter regrets which she experienced when she contemplated her conduct,—all these circumstances had combined to madden her. Thinking that Rainford was absent longer than the business on which he had set out seemed to warrant, she was filled with the most fearful misgivings. At one moment she fancied that, in disgust at her behaviour, he had abandoned her for ever: then she imagined that he must have been arrested as the possessor of the stolen diamonds. Her mind was agitated like the ocean in a storm. She went out in a fit of desperation, and purchased some arsenic at a chemist's shop. She returned;—Rainford had not yet arrived. She sate down, and tried to wrestle with her maddening thoughts: but an invincible idea of suicide dominated them all. She struggled—Oh! she struggled bravely against that terrible sentiment; and at length Rainford came back. He exerted himself to calm her—said all he could to tranquillise her mind. He declared that he forgave her from the bottom of his heart, and lavished every token of tenderness upon her. She endeavoured to triumph over the fearful excitement under which she was labouring; but all she could do was to _appear_ calm. Two or three hours passed away, and Rainford hoped she was recovering her equanimity. But a species of delirium suddenly seized upon her: she rushed to the bed-room, and, before Rainford even knew her intention, she swallowed the poison. By the time he had followed her into the room—alarmed at the precipitate speed with which she had hurried thither—the deed was accomplished; and the paper which he picked up, as she threw herself frantically at his feet, explained to him the whole truth.

Not a moment was to be lost. Entrusting Tamar to the care of the servant-girl, Rainford rushed from the house; and, as a hackney-coach was fortunately passing at the moment, he leapt into it, desiring the driver to take him to the nearest physician of eminence. The name of Dr. Lascelles was best known to the honest jarvey, and to Grafton Street did the vehicle accordingly proceed. The physician accompanied Rainford to South Moulton Street, and Tamar was saved. But ere Lascelles took his departure, the highwayman had resolved on adopting some plan to prevent any disagreeable consequences occurring in respect to Esther de Medina on account of this attempted suicide on the part of Tamar. For Rainford naturally reflected, that as the physician was constantly moving in society, and must necessarily have an immense circle of acquaintance, it was more than probable that he might, sooner or later, encounter Esther, whom he would mistake for the sister—his real patient. Hence the solemn promise which Rainford exacted from Lascelles—_that when once his professional visits had ceased in South Moulton Street, he would forget that he had ever beholden Tamar; and that, should he ever meet her, alone or in company, he would not even appear to recognise her—much less attempt to speak to her—unless formally introduced, when he would consider his acquaintance with her to be commenced only from the moment of such introduction_. On the ensuing morning, at seven o'clock, Rainford and Tamar took their departure from South Moulton Street, and repaired to Lock's Fields, where the highwayman had already engaged lodgings previously to the affair of the diamonds, as he was anxious, for many obvious reasons, to dwell in a spot as secluded and retired as possible. Tamar then wrote a long and pathetic letter to her sister, imploring her forgiveness for the indignity which she had undergone on account of one so worthless as herself; and requesting her to address all future letters to her (until further notice) in this manner:—"_T. R., No. 5, Brandon Street, Lock's Fields_."

On the same day that Rainford and Tamar thus removed to the vicinity of the Elephant and Castle Tavern, Mr. Gordon called upon Esther de Medina in Great Ormond Street. Esther was much embarrassed when the diamond-merchant was announced; for she feared that if her father were at home, he would naturally hasten to the drawing-room to learn the object of this call, and a renewal of many painful reflections, as well as of much unpleasant observation, would follow. It was therefore with a feeling of pleasure that Esther found, upon inquiry of the servants, that Mr. de Medina had gone out a few minutes previous to Mr. Gordon's arrival. When the diamond-merchant mentioned _the particulars of the visit which he had received from the light-haired gentleman_, Esther instantly comprehended that the individual alluded to must be Rainford; for though she had never seen him to her knowledge, yet she had heard a few details relative to his personal appearance, three years previously, at Liverpool. Mr. Gordon acquainted her with the restoration of the diamonds, and _her countenance suddenly assumed an expression of joy_, because she could not help recognising a certain evidence of good principle, and of kind feeling towards herself, in the fact of such restoration.

Two days afterwards Tamar and Esther again met; and the younger sister breathed the most tender expressions of forgiveness in the ear of her whom, though so guilty, she loved so tenderly. On the following evening they met for the third time; and then Esther used all her powers of persuasion to induce Tamar to accompany her home—to throw herself at the feet of their father, and implore his forgiveness. But Tamar answered in a firm tone, while tears nevertheless streamed down her countenance,—"It is impossible, Esther! Rainford loves me so devotedly, that I should esteem myself the veriest wretch upon the face of the earth to desert him; and on this condition alone could I hope to obtain my father's pardon. No: my destiny is fixed; to him I am linked until death shall separate us! Think not, dearest Esther, that I love thee the less because I cannot, dare not, take a step that would probably unite us again at the blessed domestic hearth, and beneath the sacred roof of our father's dwelling. Oh! God knows how sincerely, how earnestly, I wish that such happiness was in store for me! But it is impossible, Esther,—impossible!" And the sisters parted again, each weeping bitterly. Mr. de Medina had noticed that Esther was absent from home a long time on those two occasions; and he taxed her with having seen Tamar again. She did not deny the charge; but falling at her father's feet, she implored him to leave her that source of consolation. Her grief was so excessive, that Mr. de Medina, who in his heart admired these evidences of sisterly affection, gave no reply on that occasion: a negative trembled upon his tongue—but he dared not utter it. He recognised all that was generous and noble in the disposition of Esther; and he felt proud of her as his daughter—the _only_ daughter whom he considered himself to possess. But, when in the solitude of his study, he reflected maturely upon these interviews which were taking place between the sisters, and which, if not at once checked, would naturally become more frequent, his mind was impressed with an idea that Tamar was utterly and irredeemably profligate—abandoned in character beyond all hope: and he feared lest Esther should be corrupted by her conversation. He therefore resolved, painful as the duty was, to put an end to those meetings, and yet mitigate the severity of this blow by winking, as it were, at the continuation of their epistolary correspondence—but still with the firm intention of crushing that indulgence also at a very early period. He knew that oral communication is far more dangerous than written interchange of thought; the former therefore was to be suspended first. He accordingly chose the anniversary of the day on which Tamar fled with Rainford to administer to Esther a solemn oath, binding her never to see her sister again. And to this vow was the unhappy girl compelled to pledge herself. It was the conversation which passed between the father and daughter on this occasion, that Lord Ellingham overheard—or rather, detached portions of which met his ears, producing such strange misgivings in his mind relative to the purity of Esther de Medina.

When the weeping Esther retired to her chamber, after having taken that oath, it struck her that her father had not prohibited her from _writing_ to Tamar: and Esther was too glad to avail herself of this circumstance, to unburthen her grief to her sister through the medium of that epistle which Old Death intercepted and perused, but which he afterwards returned to the letter-box in Holborn. And if the reader will refer to that letter, he will perceive that it was specially addressed to Tamar, although when first glanced at, and while the impression remained unfavourable to Esther's character, it might have seemed to appeal to Rainford himself.

We have now cleared up all the mysteries relating to the family of Mr. de Medina; and we doubt not our readers will be pleased to find that Esther is indeed a model of purity—innocence—and sisterly affection. Oh! despise not, then, the Jewess—for Christians might be proud to emulate her virtues! And Rainford was a man who readily recognised and appreciated all the excellence of her disposition—all the glorious traits of her character, though he knew her not. But he admired—enthusiastically admired the soul that could cling so devotedly to its love for a sister; and from the first moment that the sisters met in London, he vowed that Esther should never again be compromised by any act or deed on the part of Tamar, if he were able to prevent it. Thus was it that, on the night when Mr. Dykes and his myrmidons invaded the house in Lock's Fields, Tom Rain gave such positive injunctions to Tamar not to visit him in prison, should he be captured; for he feared lest any one acquainted with Esther might meet Tamar under such circumstances, the inevitable result being that the one would be mistaken for the other. But on the day previous to his execution, he yielded to the imploring—beseeching letters which Tamar sent to him by means of Jacob Smith; and consented that she should take a last farewell of him, on condition that she concealed her face as much as possible with a veil.

When Esther read in the newspapers of Rainford's arrest, she felt deeply—deeply for her poor sister, whom she knew to be so devotedly attached to the highwayman. And, oh! Esther herself had begun to comprehend the feeling of love; for she had not beheld with indifference the handsome—the elegant—and the generous hearted Earl of Ellingham;—and all that Tamar had said relative to the wondrous influence of that passion, would at times recur strangely to her memory. Yes—Esther loved the good young nobleman; but her soul was too pure—her manners to deeply fraught with maidenly reserve, to betray the slightest evidence of her attachment. Nor had she yet so far admitted, even in the secret depths of her own mind, the existence of this inclination towards him, as to ponder upon it seriously, or to invest it with the aspect of reality. She knew that he was attached, and believed him engaged to be married to Lady Hatfield and she sighed involuntarily—scarcely comprehending wherefore—when she thought thereon. Still she loved him—while she believed, in the innocence of her own heart, that she merely felt interested in him as a friend. Nor did her imagination define the true distinction between the feeling which she actually experienced, and that which she only conceived to animate her,—no, not even when the glowing description of love which her sister had drawn on one occasion of their meeting, presented itself to her mind. But she could yet the more easily understand how it was possible for Tamar to love Rainford so devotedly as she did. Hence the acute anguish that Esther experienced, on account of her sister, when she read the arrest of the highwayman. Mr. de Medina did not of course remain ignorant of the occurrence; but he made not the slightest allusion to it in the presence of Esther. Nor did he put into force his previously contemplated plan of forbidding any future epistolary correspondence between the sisters. He felt deeply for Tamar, in spite of his stern silence respecting her; and he would not deprive her, under the weight of such dire afflictions, of the consolation which he naturally conceived the letters of Esther must prove to her. He even gave Esther, though unasked, a considerable sum of money, casually observing "that she might wish to purchase herself a new piano, or any thing else she might fancy;"—and the young maiden pressed her father's hand, for it struck her that he meant her to be the medium of conveying assistance, in case it should be needed, to Tamar. But Tamar, in reply to the letter which Esther wrote proffering pecuniary aid, gave her the assurance that, though bowed down by the weight of affliction, poverty was not amongst the sources of her deep sorrow.

Day after day did Esther fondly hope that her father would speak to her relative to the now unfriended position of her sister; but Mr. de Medina preserved a profound silence. There were, however, moments when Esther fancied that his countenance looked anxious and care-worn, as if a struggle were taking place in his mind. Still time wore on, and he said nothing respecting Tamar:—he mentioned not her name! But one night, when Esther could not sleep, she thought that she heard a moaning sound in her father's room, which was on the opposite side of the passage communicating with her own; and, alarmed lest he might have been seized with sudden indisposition, she stole silently from her chamber and listened at his door. He was pacing the room with agitated steps, and speaking aloud in a manner indicative of acute mental anguish. "O Tamar! Tamar—my daughter Tamar! wherefore didst thou ever abandon me? God of my fathers! that such misery—such disgrace—such infamy should have fallen upon my race! And yet—though I have disowned thee—though I have cast thee off for ever—though, obedient to a stern duty, I have interdicted thy meetings with Esther, the darling of my heart,—nevertheless, my heart yearns towards thee, my Tamar! Oh! to reclaim thee—to bring thee back to the paths of virtue—to see thee happy and gay as thou once wast,—Oh! to do all this, I would consent to become the veriest beggar who crawls upon the face of the earth!" There was a long pause; and Mr. de Medina continued to pace his room with steps still more agitated than hitherto—while Esther stood in breathless suspense at the door, not daring to make her father aware that she had overheard him, and yet unable to retrace her steps to her own chamber. "But it may not be!" suddenly exclaimed the Jew, in an impassioned—rending tone; for the triumph which he had achieved over his softer feelings, cost him pangs as acute as if his heart-strings were being torn asunder. "No—it may not be! I have pronounced the fatal words, Tamar—I have disowned thee; and I may not recall the _fiat_! But if that man——who led thee astray——should be cut off by the hand of justice——" and the Jew's voice grew tremulous as in broken sentences he uttered these words——"then thou will be alone in the world——friendless——perhaps in want——starving——Oh! my God! my God!"

And Esther knew that her father was overcome with the bitterness of grief. For a moment her hand was raised to knock at the door; but in the next the thought struck her that she would be doing wrong to wound, and even humiliate him, by suffering him to know that she had become aware of the sorrow which he devoured in secret! And it also flashed to her mind that beneath the cold, stern, and severe demeanour which he had maintained ever since the flight of Tamar from the paternal roof,—beneath, also, that unbroken—profound silence which he had maintained towards her in respect to the misfortune that had fallen upon Tamar by the arrest of Rainford,—beneath all this, there agitated within his breast feelings and emotions keenly sensitive, but which were seldom if ever allowed to reflect themselves in the mirror of the countenance. Deeming, therefore, her father's grief too sacred for intrusion—too solemn to be broken in upon, Miss de Medina stole back to her chamber, and moistened a sleepless pillow with her tears. Nevertheless, a gleam of light penetrated the dark clouds of grief which hung upon her mind; for she had ascertained, beyond all possibility of doubt, that Tamar was not entirely unloved by her father—that his heart was not a tomb in which her memory was interred!

For, oh! that heart yearned towards thee, Tamar—lost, fallen though thou wast! and this conviction was an anodyne to the lacerated feelings of thy sister Esther! Time passed on—and still Mr. de Medina remained silent respecting the matter to which the charming maiden daily and hourly hoped to hear him allude. At length the trial took place—and the gallant highwayman was condemned to death. Oh! had it not been for that terrible oath—an oath from which her sire only could release her—Esther would have flown to console her sister at that season of her bitter grief. But, alas! all she could do was to impart solace by means of letters; and how cold is even the most fervent language of the pen when compared with that which the heart feels it should utter through the medium of the tongue! Tamar replied to those letters; and Esther was astonished to perceive that the afflicted woman wrote with a certain degree of calmness:—but she feared that it was indeed the calmness of despair! A second time did Mr. de Medina place in Esther's hands a considerable sum of money, telling her to use it as she thought fit; and the beauteous maiden, while her heart fluttered with hope and anxious expectation, exclaimed in an appealing tone, "Oh! my dear father—God grant that I do not misunderstand thy motives! Thou knowest that I have no need for all this gold; and _she_ requireth a sire's pardon, but not the aid of his purse."—"I do not—I dare not understand you, Esther," returned Mr. de Medina, with difficulty assuming a cold tone, but with tears starting into his eyes:—and then he hastily quitted the room. Esther saw how deeply he was moved: and hope increased—not diminished—within her gentle breast. Then, when she pondered on all her father had uttered aloud, on that night when she had listened at his chamber door,—and when she reflected on all his proceedings since the day of Rainford's arrest,—she fancied that she could fathom his motives and intentions. "Should my dear—dear sister," she thought within herself, "be left friendless and alone in the world, by the hand of justice striking at the existence of him whom she loves—_then_, and only _then_, will the door of the paternal dwelling be opened, and a father's arms be extended, to receive the exile once more."

At length the fatal morning came—the morning on which Rainford was to suffer, and to which date we have now brought up our history. On the preceding Saturday Tamar had written to Esther to say that the hours of her bitterest—most crushing trials were now at hand; and that if she survived the soul-harrowing anguish then in store for her, it would be only with the hope of yet finding herself restored, sooner or later, to the sweet companionship of her sister, and also for the sake of the little boy whom Rainford's kindness had adopted, and who was so completely dependent upon her. "The moment all shall be over on Monday morning," added Tamar in her letter, "my preparations to leave London will commence. It is my intention—my firm intention to proceed to America, and there remain—burying my woes in a strange land, and devoting myself to the care of this boy—until it may please God to move my father's heart to recall me home! Let me receive a letter from thee, then, my beloved sister, on Monday morning—a letter that may console me by the assurances of thy continued love—if consolation there be for me in this life! Let your much-coveted communication reach me, sweetest Esther, at about ten o'clock on Monday. May God bless you, dearest—dearest Esther!"

Accordingly, on Monday morning, at about half-past nine, Esther despatched a letter, by a messenger, to Tamar's lodgings in the City. Need we say that this epistle contained all the tender assurances of love and unvarying affection which the affectionate disposition of the Jewish maiden could suggest, or which were calculated to console where consolation was so difficult? When the messenger, whom she had gone out to hire, had departed with the letter, Esther de Medina felt too restless—too nervous—too unsettled, to return home again immediately. The idea that one whom her sister loved had suffered an ignominious death that morning, and that Tamar was at that very moment crushed down to the earth by the weight of her afflictions,—this idea was more than Esther could contend against. She wandered listlessly about—unmindful whither she was going; and it was in this frame of mind that she suddenly heard her name pronounced. She knew the voice, which somewhat recalled her to herself; for it was the voice of Lord Ellingham, whose absence from home had been made known to her by means of the laconic letter which he had addressed to her father from his dungeon.

The reader knows the rest:—with strange rapidity was she hurried away by the Earl towards Red Lion Street; and in the house to which she was conducted, she found her sister, who had arrived there only a few minutes previously, guided by Jacob Smith.