Scotland/Scots > Wilson's tales of the Borders and of Scotland > Volume 3

BILL STANLEY; OR A SAILOR’S STORY. 27
“ ‘ Alas! nothing!’ exclaimed the prisoner bitterly, and
the tears gushed down his cheeks; ‘ but, oh, recal not to
my memory in a moment like this—recal not my mother’s
No! no! my sainted mother!’
“ ‘ O conscience! conscience!’ exclaimed the Captain,
starting to his feet, and gasping in eagerness as he
spoke. ‘ One question more—and your mother’s father
was a dissenting clergyman in the village of name!—
name the place! on that depends your life, and my happi¬
ness or misery.’
“‘In the village of in Westmoreland,’ replied
William; ‘but he survived not his daughter’s broken
heart. You knew them, then? Oh, did you know my
father ? ’
“ ‘ My son! my son! come to a father’s heart,’ exclaimed
the Captain, springing forward and falling on his neck; ‘ 1
am your father! Shade of my wronged Matilda! look on
this! ’
“ ‘ My father! ’ exclaimed William, ‘ have I found him!
and in such an hour! But, if you loved my mother,
wherefore’
“ Upbraid me not, my son,’ interrupted the Captain,
‘ mingle not gall with my cup of joy. Your mother was
my wife—my first, my only one. Circumstances forced me
to exact a promise from her, that our marriage should be
concealed until I dared to acknowledge it, and long cap¬
tivity severed me from her; until, on my return, I could
obtain no trace of either of you. How I have mourned
for her, all who now stand beside me have been the daily
witnesses. My son! my son!’
“ ‘ My father! O my father!’ exclaimed William; ‘ but
at this moment you are also my judge.'
“ ‘ No! no !’ cried the Captain. ‘ Seamen, strike off the
fetters from your commander’s son. Rigby, at another
tribunal I will be surety for the appearance of my son.’